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  With a gloating smile, Regidor waved a finger at her. “Fenworth told you to stay out of the pantry.”

  Toopka addressed her adversary, her small fists propped on her hips. “That was to keep me from having too many snacks. Getting food for Kale is different.”

  Regidor let go of Kale’s hand and swung his legs toward the floor. She stared at his tail. It protruded from a slit in his neatly sewn trousers and seemed much too big for the meech dragon’s small frame.

  With a swish of the awkward tail, Regidor knocked several cushions to the floor as he scooted off the bed. Stepping over them, he headed for the door.

  “You’d drop the tray,” he said over his shoulder to Toopka. “You’re way too puny to carry a big tray. I’ll help you.”

  Toopka scrambled to catch up, sprinting over the covers and leaping off the end of the bed. As they reached the door, she slipped her hand into the meech dragon’s. With her head tilted, she grinned at him. “Do you smell nordy rolls too?”

  “Yes, and Librettowit said there is parnot jelly in the top cupboard.”

  “The top? How we gonna get it?”

  “You leave that to me. It will take ingenuity.”

  The two friends turned the corner into the hall.

  9

  PALADIN’S VISIT

  Kale shook her head in disbelief.

  A meech dragon is not at all like what I expected.

  She noticed Bardon staring at her.

  He’s as rude as ever!

  She tried to think of something to say. Her mind was still too fuzzy to come up with much of anything. I wish he’d go away.

  She nodded toward the door where Regidor and Toopka had exited. “How old is he?”

  Bardon shrugged and stroked his chin with his long fingers. “About five weeks.”

  “That’s incredible!”

  “No, typical.”

  She shook her head. “I used to take care of babies in River Away. Babies do not talk at five weeks. Babies do not walk at five weeks. And he said he taught Toopka her letters.”

  “He’s a meech. It’s typical for a meech to mature rapidly.”

  Kale flopped back on the bed, suddenly exhausted. She let out a moan.

  Bardon moved swiftly to the side of the bed and took her hand. “Are you all right? Should I call Gymn and Fenworth?”

  She opened her eyes and frowned at him. “No, I just realized I’m supposed to ‘guide’ Regidor, and he’s probably much smarter than I am.”

  Bardon released her hand as suddenly as he’d grabbed it. “More than ‘much smarter.’ He’s a genius. But he’s still just a child. He needs a friend.”

  “I can’t do this, Bardon.” She put both hands over her eyes as if she could hide.

  “Of course you can do it,” he barked at her.

  The contrast from the more relaxed tone he’d been using shocked her. He sounded like the Bardon who ordered leecents around at The Hall.

  Kale dropped her hands and glared at him. “How can you say that? I don’t have any training. I was a slave. I don’t know anything about anything, and I especially don’t know anything about meech dragons.”

  “Librettowit will help you with knowledge.” Bardon paced around the room. “Paladin gave you this job, so you can do it. Wulder will supply the means.”

  She wanted to argue, but weariness from her illness cloaked her with despair. A tear escaped and rolled down her cheek. She brushed it away, checking to see if Bardon had noticed. Fortunately, he had stopped next to a large knothole window and stared out.

  Kale closed her eyes again, hoping she could sleep. She tried to remember what her dreams for the future had been when she lived in River Away as a village slave. Surely it had been something about growing up and getting married and having a home of her own. She remembered wanting a kitten.

  Never had she wanted special talents. She never dreamed of walking hundreds of miles to go to the biggest, most important city in the realm. Paladin and Wulder were only names people used in storytelling. Now she’d been to the capital city and a lot of other places as well. She’d met Paladin and experienced Wulder’s presence on more than one occasion. She’d met people from each of the seven high races and more creatures from the seven low races than she ever wanted to meet.

  Somehow, she was no longer a slave, but a leecent. She had a destiny, which once she thought was thrilling, but now she often thought was uncomfortable. Having Paladin claim you as his own meant you had to deal with grumbly wizards and tumanhofers, hard-nosed lehmans, precocious meech dragons, and street urchins. Being a slave was simpler.

  She had no desire to cope with Regidor’s needs, Bardon’s stiffness, and Toopka’s odd perception of right and wrong. Kale was supposed to go to The Hall and train for service to Paladin. Instead, she went on quests, had adventures, got attacked by Creemoor spiders, and ended up in a wizard’s castle in The Bogs with too much going on to learn anything!

  “Kale?” Bardon’s voice interrupted her list of complaints.

  “Hmm?” Maybe if she acted as drowsy as she felt, he would go away.

  “He was there. Do you remember seeing him?”

  She opened her eyes. “Who?”

  Bardon whispered the name. “Paladin.”

  Kale shivered in response to Bardon’s reverent tone. In the past, when she’d met Paladin face to face, she, too, had been awed by his presence. “Where?”

  “In the gateway.”

  “That’s impossible. A gateway is too narrow. You step in. You step out. There isn’t enough room to meet someone.”

  “He was there.”

  Bardon turned to look at her, and when she saw his face, she believed him.

  Several emotions caught her by surprise. A touch of anger made her clamp her lips together.

  Why didn’t Paladin wait until I could talk to him? He’d know how much I want to see him again.

  Through her nose, she took a deep breath and blew it out slowly.

  When I met Paladin, I felt wonderful. Bardon looks worried. She sent him a cross look, but he had turned away again. What’s the matter with him?

  She tried to keep the irritation out of her voice when she spoke. “What happened?”

  “He put his hand on my shoulder, and I could breathe. He touched your head, and I could see you were breathing again.”

  “What did he say?”

  “That you would live. That we had work to do.”

  Kale watched Bardon’s face and realized he was laboring to keep that blank mask covering his emotions.

  Is he excited? Scared? No, Bardon wouldn’t be scared. Maybe nervous, but not frightened.

  “Is that all?” she asked.

  Bardon sighed. “No.”

  She waited only a moment. “Well, are you going to tell me?”

  “He told me to be courageous. That Wulder is always with us—and some other things just to me.”

  Kale lay quietly, wondering what she should say.

  Bardon cleared his throat. “He said to trust him.”

  She nodded.

  “He said to trust you.”

  Her eyes grew big, and she smiled.

  “Kale?”

  His tone of voice wiped the grin from her face. “What?”

  “He knew.”

  “Knew what?”

  “That I’m afraid. Not just afraid, right then, of going through the gateway, but afraid of leaving The Hall. Afraid of doing something different from the way I’d planned to spend the next few years.”

  Kale gasped. “Me too! Oh, Bardon, that’s funny!”

  “Funny?” His face clouded over, and he gave her a dark look.

  “Yes! Don’t you see? We’re so different, and yet we both are afraid. I sometimes make it sound like I’m angry, but I’m really afraid. Just now I was griping to myself about having to be here instead of at The Hall.”

  Bardon took several long strides and crossed the space between them. He towered over her with his arms akimbo.
/>   “I’m not a coward,” he said. “I don’t want you to think that. The mordakleeps and fire-breathing dragons, evil wizards, grawligs, and bisonbecks are foul creatures to be fought. I’m trained to fight. I excel with a sword, spears, and a bow and arrow. I’m not afraid of combat.”

  She spoke softly. “You’re afraid of not being good enough. That’s what I’m afraid of. Paladin gave me a job to do, and I’m afraid I’ll fail him.”

  Bardon stared at her for a moment and then nodded in one hard movement. “True.”

  “He said to be courageous, and Wulder is with us.”

  Bardon nodded again.

  “Maybe we should think of that as ‘Be courageous because Wulder is here with us.’”

  Bardon continued to look at her without speaking, but his face began to relax.

  Kale said, “I won’t tell if you won’t tell.”

  He frowned.

  “That we’re afraid,” she explained.

  Bardon grimaced. “Paladin knows.”

  Kale plunged ahead with what she wanted to say. “That’s all right. And maybe after a while, we’ll get as brave as we’re pretending to be.”

  “Maybe.”

  A crackly voice from the door interrupted them. “Good, then, that’s settled.” Wizard Fenworth tugged at his beard. He dislodged a tiny bird, and it flew out the window. Fenworth watched it with a puzzled air, then shook himself as if ridding himself of the distraction. He grinned at Bardon and Kale, then rubbed his hands together. “Now we can explore the Creemoor caves and find out who sent those spiders to plague Vendela.”

  10

  RESEARCH

  “Research.” Librettowit thumped his tankard down on the kitchen table. “That’s what’s needed for a venture like this. Research, plenty of research and planning.”

  Kale watched the tumanhofer with interest. She lounged on a sofa in Fenworth’s large common room. Metta sprawled on her lap, and Gymn snuggled on her shoulder against her neck. Every once in a while, the small dragon raised his rough chin to rub affectionately against her cheek.

  Librettowit’s commentary on what he already knew about Creemoor continued. He talked of the wind-sculpted towers above ground and the catacombs carved by underground rivers long gone, the history of desolation, and hungry creatures desperately seeking food and water.

  “There’s a lot more information needed to aid in this proposed quest.” The librarian eyed the dozing wizard. “Caution, prudence.”

  Librettowit grumbled under his breath, but Kale heard him. “Treachery brews in Creemoor.”

  He sipped from his tankard and raised his voice. “I’m as eager as anyone to dig out any bit of information. Of course I want to discover who instigated the spider attack on Vendela. But I’ve a librarian’s soul, and I prefer to find out by some means within the strong walls of Fenworth’s extensive library.”

  Librettowit turned his short body on the wooden stool and surveyed the room. Regidor sat on the sofa with Kale, his tail pulled around and into his lap where he fingered the scaly ridges. Toopka had been tucked in for the night in a hammock strung between beams opposite the kitchen end of the common room. Bardon sat in a corner next to bookcases and a branch of bright lightrocks. He was reading a book called Knights in Service.

  Fenworth snoozed. He sat in a comfortable chair with a yellow light globe suspended in the air over his right shoulder. One hand held a mug, and an open book rested in the other.

  Kale watched Librettowit study each of his comrades in turn. She wondered what he was thinking but refrained from reaching into his thoughts. It was bad manners to eavesdrop on private musings. She averted her eyes when the tumanhofer turned his gaze on her, but she still felt a subconscious blush under his scrutiny. She deliberately focused on the homey room.

  Pools of cool blue light emanated from lightrocks hanging in fixtures from the wall and sitting on tables. Breezes freely came and went through the open windows, large round holes in the tree walls. The damp air carried the tangy fragrance of swamp flowers. Night birds hailed one another as the moon rose over The Bogs. Kale relished the peace.

  Truthfully, I’m siding with Librettowit. I don’t want to explore the caves of Creemoor. For one thing, I don’t feel strong enough. Gymn’s healing has always been quicker than this.

  She rubbed her hand. The skin itched.

  I wonder if something is wrong this time. It’s been hours now since I awoke, and I still feel like I fell out of a treetop. My arm’s weak, and it aches.

  Librettowit cleared his throat and wagged a finger at the wizard. “Mind you, Fenworth, I am not tagging along to be your portable encyclopedia. I’ll give you facts, maps, and the probabilities, but I am not going with you. I’m a librarian, after all, not a knight or a wizard or an adventurer.”

  Toopka leaned forward and almost fell out of the hammock. She swung precariously for a moment before her bed settled into a steady rhythm and she could ask her question.

  “Who will tell us stories if you don’t come along?”

  The tumanhofer offered her a fierce growl, but the child just giggled. He drew his brows together more fiercely. “You’re not going either, so it’s a moot point.”

  “Who will sing?” she persisted. “You sing all the old, old folk songs. Metta only knows them if she gets them from you. It will be boring without you and Metta singing after supper.”

  Regidor got up from the sofa. His bulky tail knocked over an end table piled with books. While everyone in the room held their breaths, he sat down beside Librettowit without toppling anything else.

  Fenworth harrumphed. Opening one eye, the wizard glared at the mishap. The table righted itself. The spilled books leapt back into neat stacks.

  With none of his usual buoyant attitude showing on his face, Regidor studied his folded hands. His shoulders slouched as he sighed heavily.

  Librettowit ignored Fenworth and placed a hand over Regidor’s. “Don’t worry about him. Truth be spoken, you’ve done the old man a world of good.”

  Fenworth grumbled something about “old man” and pointedly stuck his nose into the small volume of woodland lore he held.

  Librettowit chuckled. “A month ago it would have taken Fenworth fifteen minutes of concentrated effort to recall the backup spell. Now he does it without thinking. All because of you, Regidor.” He patted the dragon’s hand once more. “You’re good for him. Keeping his mind sharp.”

  “Harrumph!” Fenworth put his mug down and turned a page.

  “Am I to be left at home?” asked Regidor. “Do I have to stay with Toopka?”

  “You get to stay with me, my boy,” said Librettowit. “We’ll study geography. Maybe do some traveling through the gateways. Learn a bit about our country. Go to a festival or two. Autumn is a good time for traveling—weather’s not too bad and lots of harvest galas happening all over the place.”

  Regidor pouted. “I want to go on the quest.”

  “Me too!” Toopka rocked her hammock wildly.

  Metta and Gymn sat up abruptly and let out a trill. Kale forced herself to concentrate. The dragons’ thoughts pushed into her weary mind.

  “Celisse?” Kale straightened. The little dragons leapt into the air and flew out the open window into the night.

  “Celisse and Merlander!” Kale exclaimed and struggled to her feet. A smile spread across her face as she went to the window and peered out. The limbs of Fenworth’s castle obscured some of the sky, but she could see twinkling stars and the moon’s soft glow on the towering bog trees.

  Kale crowed. “And Dar! Dar’s coming too!”

  Toopka twisted over the edge of her hammock, dropped to the floor, and trotted across to the window.

  “Where? Where is he?” She pulled on Kale’s sleeve. “Lift me up. I want to see.”

  Bending to pick up the child with her stronger arm, Kale shook her head. “You can’t see him. He’s far away, riding on Merlander. They have to land outside The Bogs, and Dar will walk in.”

&nb
sp; “The big dragons won’t come here? Why not? Is Fenworth mad at them, too?”

  Regidor jumped out of his chair, knocking it over, and shouldered his way into a position where he could look out the window. Kale had to step aside.

  Bardon looked up. “Bad manners, Regidor.”

  The dragon muttered, “Excuse me.”

  He poked his nose out the window and sniffed. “I don’t smell anything but The Bogs. I smell sweet mallow vine, water, wet wood, water, and more wet wood. I don’t smell any other dragons. Or this Dar person, either.”

  “He’s too far away,” said Toopka. “Kale said so.”

  “Then how does she know he’s coming?”

  “The little dragons told her,” Toopka said, sticking her chin out.

  “Yes, that’s right,” said Kale. “But I can also feel their presence.”

  “Teach me to do that,” demanded Regidor.

  “Manners,” said Bardon.

  Regidor turned to glare at the lehman. “It’s a waste of time to put in all those extra words just to sound good.”

  “If you want to be in service to Paladin, you must follow his example. Article seventeen—‘gracious in every word.’”

  Exasperated with Bardon’s rules, Regidor hissed through thin lips, “Please, teach me to do that!”

  “I don’t know that I can, Regidor,” answered Kale. “It’s a talent given to me by Wulder. Leetu Bends taught me how to use it, but Wulder gave the talent to me first.”

  “How do I know if He gave it to me?”

  “Well, close your eyes, then try to reach with your mind to things that are beyond this room.”

  The meech dragon obediently closed his eyes and stretched his neck out through the window. “I don’t think this is working.”

  “Be quiet. Give it time.”

  “It’s not working.”

  “You aren’t being quiet.”

  “Do you have to be quiet?”

  “It works best when I’m quiet.”

  A moment passed.

  “I still don’t think it’s working.”

  She clamped her jaw shut, biting back a sharp retort. Regidor was just like the small children she had tended as a village slave. “You have to wait two whole minutes before you can say it’s not working again.”