“Winged dragons?” said Badharan with enough excitement to drop a rein. “In the Black Desert? And they take us sailing away into the very sky above?”
Everyone was nodding.
“My!” he said as he turned back about and grabbed up the rein. “My. Maybe this really is a dream.”
***
The vireo in the leaves above gave a rambling medley of whistles as the breeze rocked the mottle of shadow back and forth across everything below. Teeuh put her head against Longbark for a moment to thank her, gave her trunk a pat and rose from the spot where she had been since the morning before. She paused to close and open her great moth wings as she whisked at the knees of her spider silk tights and made her way through the new grass of the orchard and over the frozen ropes of lava at the mouth of the great tunnel which climbed gently the entire long way into the mountain.
When she was nearly up to the far end she was seized by an aroma. “O pye!” she said, and broke into a dainty run for the kitchen. “Pye!” she squealed, coming 'round the corner to a sudden stop on the rag rug. She scurried round with a quick hug for each of the old Fairies before sitting down to her place at the board.
“Hit no thyng but a cobulares pye with no bothem ybe, Ich fere,” said Alvita as she set before her a plate of steaming apples, mounded over with scones, cottage cheese and honey. “Rodon hath nat with hise floure grindinge yben ykepyng up.”
Teeuh grabbed up her spoon. “Hit be goob,” she said, kicking her feet as she sucked back a dribble from her chin.
“Ich wol have thou to knowe hit proynyng and schering and eke the gardyn hath yben,” said Rodon.
Alvita took a seat beside Celeste to enjoy watching Teeuh eat. Nacea set her knitting in her lap and fished for a ball of yarn in her basket.
“Mooder Longbarke to me myn awfull Nasteuh birthe mooder was shewing,” said Teeuh, pausing with her mounded spoon.
“And just why was she doing a thyng lyche un-to that?” said Celeste, sharing a wide-eyed look with the others.
“By cause Ich axed hir...” she said, lunging at the bite. “Ich wanted to knowe what she lokes lyche, or atte leste used to. But that just hit ybe. Ye knoweth how hit with Mooder Longbarke ybe. She that Spitemorta looketh a hool lot lyche un-to me didde shewen me, save that I be smalish and grene heer and wengis do haven. She evene chyrned me al up in-side, shewing me how horrible she be. But I never actuel to seen hir. She told me that ye koude done. Mooder told me that ye koude myn eyn to shewen.
Konnen ye Spitemorta to escrye, Mammas?”
Celeste sat up straight with another look for Alvita and Nacea. “If thou symply mustest, this the righte tyme of day wolde beth.”
“I symply have to seen hir,” she said. “But I do knowe she be horrible. She bethe Nasteuhs mooder, nat myne. Ye mammas and Mooder Longbarke arne my mooderes. Ich am so verray thankfull ye al didde to haven Mooder unmake Nasteeuh and me in to the woreld in stede to bryng.” Suddenly she set down her spoon, slid the length of the bench and threw her arms around Rodon.
“Plese, myn hony,” he said, gently pressing her head to his shoulder. “Plese puttest awey thine gilt atte last. Thou yavest bakke my leg and tail. Ich can hit i-take me a tyme to comen arounde, but now thou art my favour. Oonly thou and Ich knowen just how hit to haven a derke passed ybe.”
With a rattling sniffle and an extra squeeze, Teeuh slid back to her plate of cobbler. She thoughtfully swallowed another spoonful in the quiet room. “Spitemorta be awey to wikked to lyve,” she said suddenly. “If ye al wyssheth, I to Niarg wol fleen and kylle hir.”
“Myn verray soule and bodi, sooteherte,” said Celeste. “Dostow trewly bileve thou koudest?”
“I do ne can,” she said, getting another spoonful, “but ye al to me everych thyng haven yiven. May be hit my torn to buen good ybe.”
“Thine herte stronge and pur ybe,” said Celeste. “But what weo haven doon for thee a yifte un to oure selven ybe. Bysidis, the task of kyllyng Spitemorta bilongeth to tweye twynnes whom profecie seyth arne the oonly oones a-lyve with the power to seen hit ydon.”
“Thanne Ich wysshe hem Fateses spede,” she said, putting down her spoon.
“Als doon weo al,” said Celeste. “Als doon weo al.”
Chapter 191
Just east of the kite field and the row of caverns used by Spark, Lipperella and the Mob, the layer of lava tubes was reduced to a crumbling vitreous crust, a roof of sorts for a smaller series of grey limestone caves and collapsed caverns bordered by a low bluff which faced the rankest vegetation of the oasis, including respectable stands of cottonwood, mesquite and scrub oak. Here, in the mouths of the caves or on the cottonwood leaf litter just outside, was where the diatrymas Lladdwr, Ceidwad and their cockerel Arwr and his wife Meinir usually settled onto their keels to preen and doze in the shade and to allow themselves to be found by those who had tidings for them or for Vyrpudi or Shot 'n' Stop.
Arwr was the first to return from a morning hunt where he had managed to snap up a fat spoon-eared blackrabbit. He found a nice spot near the cottonwood tree where Shot 'n' Stop was sunning and settled onto his keel to shift about, sort through his feathers and at last close his eyes.
Shot 'n' Stop may have noticed him, but it was not easy to tell, since he had not moved a muscle after having strained for the entire afternoon the day before, swallowing a good sized armadillo. A towhee called nearby. A breeze rattled the leaves like raindrops overhead, while Vyrpudi's snores rumbled deeply in the cavern behind them.
Arwr opened his eyes at the rustle and crunch of someone approaching carefully through the leaves. He might have spoken, but Shot 'n' Stop saved him the trouble.
“I ssee a ssight for my lidless eyesses, kid-o,” he said, flicking his tongue. “Where have you been, Abby? I would come down and be polite, but thiss little morssel I sswallowed iss jusst 'way too ponderouss. You have no idea what it took to get it up here.
Sso are you all right? It'ss been a while.”
Abaddon looked up at Shot 'n' Stop, tightly coiled about the bottom limb. “I'm all right all over the place, if having the love of my life about to go off and get killed is as jolly good as this whole place seems to think.”
“Sso you've sspoken to her?”
“She won't change her mind,” he said, snapping off a twig from Shot 'n' Stop's branch. “She says she was born to play her part in the Prophecy and that's that. She even forbids me to talk about it and just walks away if I try. And she won't even speak to me unless I promise not to start in on it. I just think she's afraid that if she hears me out, her resolve will weaken and she won't be able to go through with it.”
“Well Abby. Sshe might not want to lissten because sshe hatess caussing you sso much pain.”
“Maybe...”
“Ssure. Sshe doessn't want to hurt the persson sshe lovessess mosst.”
“Or,” said Arwr with a thoughtful snap of each wing, “she fears that you'll talk her into losing her resolve over considerations for her own safety at the wrong moment and it'll get her killed. To survive a fight with a perilous foe, one's mind must be fixed.”
“You fellows are right,” said Abaddon, flinging his stick into the brush. “I want her safe so bad, I stopped thinking. All I've wanted is to marry her and keep her safe.”
“Sso you're crazsy about her,” said Shot 'n' Stop. “That'ss good, issn't it?”
“Dyrney-brutes no-have this tumble-down,” said Vyrpudi as he yawned and squatted in the leaves below Shot 'n' Stop.
“How's that?” said Abaddon.
“If she-be Dyrney-sow, she-get big-head-nod yank-down hair-drag.”
“Ow! I've never done that.”
“And it be plain easy-to-see,” said Vyrpudy, with a conclusive nod. “A good hair yank-out will soften her up, same as giggle-grab sow.”
“Good grief! She has more power than Razzmorten. Have you seen her bolts of wizard fire?”
“No-see magic.”
“Not at all?”
Vyrpudi shook his head.
Suddenly, Abaddon wheeled aside, throwing a crackling bolt of lavender wizard's fire, blowing a big rock out of the bluff face to land with a thud in the dirt below and roll to a stop, glowing for a moment with a bright purple aura. “So what did you see?” he said.
“Rock fall. That be all.”
“No fire?”
“What fire? Vyrpudi go back to snawk-sleep.” And with that, he got to his feet, gave a rending stretch and ambled back into the cave, pausing to scratch and brush twigs out of his bushy hair.
Shot 'n' Stop quit moving as a breeze rattled the leaves overhead. Arwr already had his eyes closed. Abaddon sat down on the fallen rock to think about Ariel. “I never will talk her out of it,” he said with a great sigh. “And I might get her killed just because I tried.” But what could he do? After listening to the towhees in the fallen leaves for a time, he decided that there was nothing for it but to tell her as often as he could that he truly believed in her. He took a deep breath of resolution, though he could not quite quit wondering if he was doomed to lose her.
***
At its far end, well west of the New Dragon Caves, the bluff turned to the north and vanished into the desert's black sands, leaving a prominence with a broad vista of black dunes to the horizon. Here, the great limestone caverns had given way to springs and seeping places in the rock face, dribbling endlessly down glistening streaks of algae to warm pools of tadpoles in the willows and agaves below. In the highest part of the rocks, directly above the limestone, was a great lava tube, spacious and broad enough for Laora to fly into and land, though it was difficult to climb to.
Edward paced back and forth, gnawing on a cold joint of roast lamb. He paused to lick his fingers and look out over the vast ocean of orange asters, colored with islands upon islands of purple, red and white cone flowers. “My,” he said. “What a change from barren sand. It's hard to believe what a thunderstorm will do after years and years with no rain. And where did all the brilliant butterflies come from?” He was lifting up his piece of meat for the morsel hanging from its bottom, as a shadow passed over the mouth of the lava tube.
“I'm back,” said Laora, swooping in for a running halt behind him.
“Where have you been?” he said as he turned about. “You flew off right after sunrise. What about picking up that parcel from Minuet and flying it up to Captain Bernard? It'll be dark before we ever manage...”
“Hunting, you poop,” she said as she ran her teeth down a flight feather. “I told you I wanted a deer. You're still eating on that awful cooked stuff.”
“Yea. And wondering. You didn't catch anything?”
“A deer, silly. I told you.”
Edward nodded deeply with his swallow. “Well pardon me, but the sun's straight up overhead. I've never known you to take all morning at something like that.”
Laora rolled her eyes and started after the primaries in her other wing. “I ran into a friend, so we visited a spell. Is that bad?” she said.
“Why would it be? It would merely have been thoughtful to let me know.
Something could've happened. And I don't know what Queen Minuet thinks...”
“Poop!” she said as she took up a lock of his hair to preen. “You knew from outside the room when I needed something, 'way back before my very first pin-feathers ever fluffed out. It's not good for you to worry.”
“Very well,” he said, flinging the bone out of the mouth of the cave. “I'll know next time, when you go off with Eflamm and don't tell me. So let's go see how upset Minuet is. Or are you still too starry-eyed?”
“I am not! We crossed paths, so we hunted together and shared the deer. That's all.”
“Righty-o. Hard not to run into him every time you're out in this fiddly little desert...”
“That's mean! He and I are just friends and not one teensy other little thing.”
“Oh go on Laora. It's not as if we didn't know this was coming. So here's a male dragon. Just enjoy it.”
“You really mean that, don't you?”
“Of course. And I've loved you all your life and I want you to be happy.”
“But you'll hate it if I'm in love with someone else.”
“That's what I thought. But there's no way around you're being a dragon and me being a human. I just had to think about it for a very long time.”
“So Edward, are you telling me that we could each mate with our own kind and not change things between us?”
“Oh, it has to change things. No way it wouldn't. But we're supposed to have this bond for life. Right? Your mother always said so...”
“Yes, but you don't like Eflamm...”
“I never said that,” he said, finding a rag for his greasy fingers. “I just thought it stank when he took the deer. I wouldn't do something like that, ever. And if I love you, shouldn't I worry about your taking up with a sneak or a thief?”
“Oh he knew the deer was ours, all along. He just couldn't think of any other excuse to be with me, is all.”
“That's no way for him to do it. Maybe I need to speak with him.
“About what?”
“Well, someone needs to tell him to quit his sneaking about like some sort of thief, if he's going to court you...”
“You wouldn't!” she gasped as she caught his eye. “Oh you would!”
***
Ocker landed on the little branch beyond their nest, jostling awake Urr-Urr.
“What do you think this is,” she said, “the old nest on the rocks above Razzorbauch's?”
He gave her ruffled head a quick nibble and flapped to a perch on the far side of the crown of their maidenhair tree. “My!” he thought. “The old nest. What's hit been, a full score year?” He leaped into a hot gust of wind from the Red Desert and swooped down to the fairy ring below. He found his scrying marble at once and began pecking at it this way and that, looking for any sign of their old nest. “Hit's still there!” he awked. He hurriedly grabbed up his stick from under its leaves and vanished.
He appeared in the clouds above their old rock ledge, “Up where Urr-Urr and I used to tumble and dive,” he said. He could see the spot on the rocks where their nest was and the cluster of little stone boxes which made up Razzorbauch'e keep well below that.
He found himself on the ledge in short order, hopping about to hide his stick and marble in their old places, and at last trotting reverently up to the side of the nest with one of its scattered sticks to stand in the wind and sun, remembering. After a spell he sighed and walked to the edge to peer over.
“Blue people!” he awked. “You swyving toute holes are in my keep!” And with that, he sprang into the air beyond the edge. By the time he had nearly reached Razzorbauch's roof, he realized that he knew nothing at all about these people and decided to land on the big gargoyle overlooking the great balcony to see if he could hear anything they might give away about themselves. He could see that one of the little blue men had hauled outside one of Razzorbauch's big chairs and was sitting in it at the edge of the balcony with his chin in his hand, watching the other one pace about.
“So who did you say this Earhole fellow is?” said the seated fellow.
“Goll's first steward calls him his 'steward-orderly,'“ said the man on his feet. “It's as close as I've managed to get. It may be that the muckle witch is seldom there, but the new Castle Goll is one of her castles, so word from inside of it ought to give us something to go on. And I think I do trust what I get from him. I mean, I suspect he wants to see her fall, too...”
“Well what, then?”
“What? I'm sorry...”
“Damn it!” said the seated man. “What has Earhole heard?”
“Nothing, actually...”
“What?”
“It's not at all the way it sounds, Mighty Ru. Spitemorta's had a reward out for Edward for some years, according to him. It's just that no one has heard any tidings at all...”
Ocker leant forward at once.
“Has she no idea at all, Captain?”
“Not that I've got wind of.”
“Maybe it's not important to her...”
“I wouldn't go that far, Mighty Ru. Her reward is Edward's weight in gold. And I hear that she wants to draw and quarter him herself...”
“He's got to be some place,” said the ru, shooting to his feet to pace about.
“Theranholm and Bratin Brute are long gone. He's got to be some place her empire never goes. Here? The Wilderlands...?”
“That is him!” rattled Ocker, leaping into a sweeping glide for the pair on the balcony. He trotted to a halt on the stone balustrade in front of the two little blue men and folded his wings. “Before I fix you two mother swyvers for tresspassing, maybe we ought to make a deal.”
The two Beaks froze wide eyed where they stood.
“Ocker I be,” he said, standing up straight and bristling the feathers on his neck. “I said Ocker...”
“He did!” cried the captain. “I did hear him!”
“Good for you...” said Ocker, flapping a few feet out of reach.
“Bran-Hoodie!” cried the ru. “Bran-Hoodie, who flies away to the afterlife with the flesh of the slain.”
“Good!” said Ocker, keeping an eye on them as he ran his beak down a flight feather. “Maybe we can make a deal. I happen to know where Edward is...”
“What?” chorused the ru and the captain.
“Yea. But I don't make deals without names.”
“Brude Talorg, Ru of Marr,” said Talorg with a deep and sudden bow.
“What? Like unto a ri or a king of some sort?”
“Captain Gart,” said the captain.
“So how about hit? What'll ye give me?”
“What do you have?” said Talorg.
“You don't listen very well,” said Ocker, flapping into the air to hover for a moment before settling down onto the balustrade again. “I said I know where Edward of Theranholm is...”
“Where?” said Talorg, pressing close at once. “Tell me!”
Heart of the Staff - Complete Series Page 201
