DragonFire

by Donita K. Paul

  Bardon sighed and started down again. He looked at the two dozen or so mice still trying desperately to demolish his boots. They’d chewed his pant legs until the fabric was higher than the distance they could leap. He chortled and caught the anxious edge in the tone of his own laughter.

  Oh, Wulder, this would be funny if I were not so exhausted, hungry, and full of aches. I have been chased by a horde of ineffectual monster mice. Did Crim Cropper ever develop a truly functional beast? Yet, I’m glad these creatures are horrendous at their appointed task.

  He came to another door and slipped through. He’d become more adept at getting on the other side and leaving behind the rodents. Now he could count the rodents that remained after he slammed the door. With his eyes downward as he looked to see how many had been eliminated, Bardon sensed the space around him was different.

  He stood at the edge of a great hall. Scattered around the room, large globes rested on pedestals. The ivory columns were uniform in width but of different heights. The orbs atop each one varied from the size of a head to the very large spheres that could not possibly roll through the door. Bardon wondered briefly how Crim Cropper had managed to get these inside the room. Within each translucent glass sphere, small shards of lightning crackled. An uneven rhythm of pops, sputters, and hisses emanated from each large ball. He ambled around the room with his awkward gait, examining the different sizes of the globes and colors of the encapsulated energy.

  I know these instruments. I’ve seen them in Kale’s rooms in our own home. I’ve seen them when we visited other wizards and in the books Kale reads. I wonder what Cropper does with all of these. If Kale were here, she could discern their uses and fill me in. As it is, I can only make guesses.

  Bardon yelped as a sharp tooth met his toe. One of the rodents had finally pierced the leather of his boot. Bardon stumbled and knocked against a pedestal. The sphere toppled and hit the floor with a crash. Holding on to the rocking pillar, Bardon regained his balance. He looked down at the shattered glass and then at the pesky rodents. They had lost interest in him. They scuttled around the floor, whiskers twitching and tails dragging like ordinary mice.

  A door on one of the side walls crashed open.

  The stubby servant Prattack rushed in. “What are you doing here? You can’t be in here! What have you done? Master Cropper will be furious.” He shuffled to a closet and grabbed a broom and dustpan.

  “What do these globes do, Prattack?”

  The servant bustled over to the broken glass and began cleaning up. “Nothing important. Nothing you’d be interested in. It’s the master’s business, not yours. These are important to him, not you.”

  Bardon deliberately knocked another globe to the floor.

  It shattered, and Prattack came scurrying over with his broom. “Look what you’ve done. The master will be so annoyed when he sees his creatures aren’t obeying him. I’m telling him you did it. He’s going to be angry, and I won’t take the blame.”

  Bardon pushed two more to the ground. Prattack turned to him with tears in his eyes. “You might as well do them all, and then shatter me as well.”

  “I have a better idea. Why don’t we both knock them over, and we’ll escape together?”

  “Oh, I couldn’t do that.” Prattack fixed his eyes on a globe that sparkled with green and blue lightning. “I can’t defy the master.”

  Bardon hobbled across the room and picked up the sphere that held Prattack’s attention. The little man gasped. Bardon threw it to the stone floor. Prattack’s eyes grew big, and his face turned purple.

  “Breathe, Prattack,” Bardon commanded and shambled over to thump the man’s back with his hand.

  The servant took a deep breath and charged forward. He hit one pedestal after another, smashing all the remaining globes.

  He turned to Bardon with a gleam in his eye. “Where do you want to go, sir? There’s gateways to anyplace in the world!”

  48

  ONE BATTLE

  Clattering sounds, clanking and banging, intruded on Kale’s peaceful slumber. She stretched and opened her eyes. All the other occupants of the medic tent had disappeared. A tall woman swept into the tent.

  “Gilda!”

  The meech dragon hurried to her side. “Come, Kale.” She helped her sit up. “We have to get out of here.”

  “What’s happening?”

  “As soon as the forest fire was out, Pretender turned on Cropper’s army of bisonbecks. He rode overhead on his black dragon and hurled bolts of lightning at them. His scourge of an army came over the hills and attacked this bedraggled crew of Cropper’s finest. Compared to those under Pretender’s authority, they were the runts of a litter of kittens.”

  Gilda threw an underrobe around Kale’s shoulders. “Help me here. I’m not accustomed to dressing anyone other than myself.”

  Kale shoved her fist through the sleeve. Her hand still held Pretender’s globe. “I thought the armies were evenly matched. I thought that’s why the war had gone on so long.”

  “Stox’s army stood up to Pretender fairly well, but since her death, her men have no leadership.”

  “Crim Cropper?”

  Gilda’s fingers worked to button a tunic over the first garment. “A lunatic hermit. He knows nothing of military tactics, nor how to lead men. Drive animals, maybe. But lead men, no!”

  The meech dragon leaned back and inspected Kale. “Bah! I’ll do this the better way.”

  She squinted her eyes, and Kale felt the material of her clothing shift, twist, and expand. She examined her arms and found the sleeves to be of an elegant cream-colored silk. She stood and yards of soft fabric swirled around her legs. The green fabric shimmered as she took a step.

  “Not exactly my style, Gilda.”

  “More’s the pity. Come on.” She grabbed Kale’s arm and tugged.

  “Where are we going?”

  “We’re escaping! Isn’t that obvious?”

  Kale stopped in her tracks. “I can’t. My dragons. I have to find the dragons. The eggs. I have to find the eggs, too.”

  Gilda turned and put a fist on her hip. The meech dragon’s disgust curled her lip and raised an eyebrow. “Didn’t Leetu Bends come and collect them for safekeeping?”

  “No, it was a bisonbeck woman who…looked…a little…like Leetu Bends.”

  “Right.” Gilda grabbed her arm again. “It was Leetu Bends.”

  Kale still dragged her feet. “She took my moonbeam cape, too.”

  Gilda stopped again and didn’t disguise her anger. “Don’t you realize that anything you own, once you enter an army medic tent, is fair game for anyone who can still walk?”

  “She took them for safekeeping?”

  “Yes.”

  “No! I don’t believe you.”

  “What?”

  “Why should I? What are you doing in the enemy camp? Why did Pretender treat Regidor like a good friend?”

  “What are you talking about? When did Lord Ire treat my husband like a friend?”

  “The night they were here. Regidor came first to soften me up. I know how it works. Then Pretender came and patted him on the shoulder and took over.”

  “Took over? Took over what?”

  “Winning my confidence. Bringing me over to his side.”

  “Whose side? Regidor’s side? Lord Ire’s side?”

  “I was weak and in pain, lots of pain. Pretender offered to take the pain away. All I had to do was—”

  Gilda’s voice became calm. “All you had to do was…what?” She came close to Kale and put a gentle hand on her arm. “What? Do what?”

  “It’s nothing.”

  “Oh, I very much doubt that. What are you supposed to do, Kale?”

  Kale drew her clenched fist closer to her heart. She needed to be strong to stand up to Gilda. Gilda’s gaze shifted from Kale’s face to the closed hand. The meech dragon opened her own hand and held it in front of Kale, palm up.

  “No.” The word came quietly out of Ka
le’s strangled throat. Though nothing touched her, she could barely breathe.

  “Let me see it.”

  “No.”

  “He gave you something to carry.”

  “No.”

  “You just lied to me, Kale. Is it like you to lie?”

  “No.”

  “Now, that was the truth. What did Pretender give you to carry?”

  “I can’t.”

  “You can’t what?”

  “Open my hand.”

  “Oh.” Gilda studied her for a moment. “I don’t know what to do about that.” She gently pulled on Kale’s arm. “Come on. Let’s go find Regidor.”

  “What’s he doing?”

  “Besides fighting Cropper’s crazed troops and Pretender’s forces, who don’t seem to care what they destroy as long as they crush every bisonbeck in the wrong army, Regidor is battling a swarm of vileness that has broken loose. We believe Crim Cropper freed every poor malformed creature from his experimental lair and thrust them out upon the world. Perhaps to even his odds against Lord Ire. Regardless, my husband is fighting against whichever evil steps into his presence. At any moment, it might be any one of the above. He blew our cover as spies.”

  Kale followed Gilda to the tent flap. They both peered out at the chaos. A dragon roared in the sky above them.

  “I almost forgot,” said Gilda. “Your father is here, as well, with a battalion of fighting dragons.”

  Kale felt a surge of love. Her fingers loosened their grip on Pretender’s globe. She gasped and clenched it tighter. She’d almost dropped the gift.

  Gilda no longer looked out of the tent but studied Kale. Kale tried to make her face look calm, unbothered by the panic and confusion churning inside.

  “What does the orb do, Kale?”

  “It took away the pain. Gilda, you can’t conceive how excruciating the burning was.”

  “I think I can. The marks of it are still on your face and through your hair.”

  Kale’s fingertips went to her cheek. She felt new skin healed over her wounds. The skin was ridged, lumpy, and tender. Gilda pulled a hand mirror from her pocket and held it in front of Kale. Tears filled Kale’s eyes. She grabbed the mirror from Gilda and held it closer. Jagged red lines ran across her face. Gaps in her hair exposed the same ugly scars in her scalp. The tears blurred her vision, but not enough to block out what she saw in the looking glass.

  Gilda eased the mirror from Kale’s trembling fingers. She put it away and with her hands formed a hat with a veil, using material she pulled from her pocket. She kissed Kale’s cheek and settled the hat on her head, pulling the veil down to completely hide the scars.

  She put an arm around Kale and squeezed. “We have to go.” Her head swiveled as she surveyed the scene. “Now, Kale.”

  Kale looked at the stragglers rushing through the deserted camp. Most of them were bisonbecks, but a few were from the high races. The panic on their faces masked the differences in races.

  “Yes, we have to go. But where?”

  49

  ANOTHER BATTLE

  Kale and Gilda ran toward the river at the edge of the camp. Once they reached the bank, Gilda turned upstream and ran through the trees. Kale followed. A bluff rose out of the bank, and when they reached it, Kale realized it was honeycombed with tunnels and small rooms. Gilda led her into the network of caves. The place teemed with women and children, refugees from nearby farms and villages.

  “You’ll be safe here.” Gilda avoided looking directly at the crowd but waved her gloved hand in their general vicinity.

  “Where are you going?”

  “To fight beside my husband. He’s a mighty warrior, but even a hero gets tired.”

  “I’ll go with you. I can still fight.”

  “No, Kale. Stay here.”

  Kale started to protest, but Gilda cut her off. “Your dragons are here.”

  “They couldn’t be. They would have flown to me as soon as I entered.”

  “You don’t have your talent anymore, Kale. They don’t sense your presence. You’ll have to look for them.” With a swirl of her fashionable dress and cape, Gilda left, calling over her shoulder, “I’m needed, dear. I have to go.”

  Kale wandered from one room etched out of sandstone to the next, through wide corridors and narrow passageways. At every turn she met other displaced people, people who couldn’t be at home and couldn’t help the fight for their homes.

  She followed the sound of children giggling. In a larger room far into the bluff, she found a bright atmosphere with many lightrocks encrusting the walls. Kale recognized several of the games being played as ones she’d seen children play when she was a slave in River Away.

  I’ve come such a long way since then. But here I am watching, not really part of the community.

  She hovered in the arched doorway and gave herself up to being an observer. She wanted to leave and not see this little picture of fellowship. She certainly did not want to be seen. It hurt that it wasn’t her place to become involved.

  Her dragons played with the children.

  I should leave them here. They’re doing something good for the young ones. I don’t have any great commission in this battle, and even if I did, the dragons and I couldn’t help each other because we can’t communicate.

  She counted the dragons. Five. Ardeo, of course, was not with them. Kale batted tears back. If she’d been able to mindspeak with Ardeo, would he still be alive? And if she had not burned out her talent, she wouldn’t have been on Alton’s back. She wouldn’t have been the reason he came into harm’s way. She hadn’t done much right on this quest. I’m not even sure I’m on a quest anymore.

  A granny got up from his spot on several cushions and crossed the short space. Kale stepped aside, thinking the man wanted to leave.

  “No, no,” he said, holding out a woven container. “Leetu Bends gave me these to keep safe until you could come to get them.”

  Kale recognized the basket, but she was reluctant to take it. “You don’t know who I am.”

  “Yes, I do. Maybe at this time I know who you are better than you do yourself.” He patted her arm. “Do you need a reminder? You are Kale Allerion, Dragon Keeper of Amara, in service to Paladin.” He pushed the basket into her hands.

  She glanced inside and saw her eggs nestled in the folds of her moonbeam cape. Closing her eyes against the sight, she moaned. She’d have to find someone who could protect and nurture this precious clutch of dragons.

  A familiar chorus of happy chittering filled her ears. The minor dragons had recognized her, even covered as she was in borrowed clothing. Gymn landed on the front of her dress and climbed under the veil to rub his face against hers. Metta sat on a shoulder and sang one of Kale’s favorite morning songs as if this were the beginning of a day. Dibl landed on her waist and ran round and round her middle. She knew if she could hear him, he would be laughing at the ridiculous dress Gilda had chosen for her. After their greeting, Filia and Pat perched on the handle of the basket, examining the eggs.

  “We’re back together.” She sniffed. “Except for Ardeo. Brave Ardeo who was determined to lead me to safety. Do you all know what he did for me?”

  “They do,” said the granny, “and they believe you will do the same for others. You have a giving heart, child, whether you can use your talent or not.”

  “I lost my talent.”

  “At present, you cannot use your talent.” He patted her arm again. “Go, go with your dragons and your dragon eggs. You have work to do.”

  Kale started to tell him she had no work, that she had been told to stay here out of the way. The dark granny gave her a piercing look.

  “We who wait in these caves are not useless, Kale Allerion. We are waiting for our turn to serve.”

  “Of course, you are not useless, Granny.”

  “Go now. You’ve come to get what you require, and you have.” He smiled a white toothy grin. “And as a little extra, you’ve heard what you need as well.”r />
  Kale stroked Pat and Filia with two fingers. Her other two fingers and thumb kept the small globe tightly in her hand. The granny squinted at the orb, gave Kale a scowl, and then went back to his seat.

  “Are you taking the dragons?” asked a little marione child.

  “I’m not taking them. They can choose to stay or go with me.”

  “I hope they stay.”

  Kale caught herself just before saying, “I hope they do, too.”

  Why would I say that? It’s ridiculous. Of course I want them with me.

  She turned and ran away from the happy gathering place. The minor dragons flew with her. She bumped into someone and said, “Excuse me,” without stopping. Getting out into the open, away from all these people, became her only objective. She came up to a group of women talking.

  “Which way is out?” she asked.

  Several pointed down a corridor. Kale raced on. She came to another intersection of tunnels and again asked those nearby to direct her. Finally, she saw blue sky at the end of a passageway and ran straight for the opening. She found herself on a ledge, high above the entrance Gilda had used. From here she could see many aspects of the battle.

  Alone on the ledge, she sat down with her back to the cliff and lifted the veil off her face. It took her a minute to puzzle out who was who and what they were doing. Crim Cropper’s bisonbecks fled across the southern hills with Pretender’s forces right behind them. The dark animals that she had seen from Alton’s back no longer hunted in packs but were scattered. They attacked anything or anyone they came across, including one another. Her father’s dragons fought these beasts, spotting them from the air and swooping down to do battle on the ground. A marching army appeared on the eastern horizon. Kale thought for certain she saw Paladin’s flag. Reinforcements were on the way.

  Where are Regidor and Gilda? Where’s Leetu Bends? My mother? My father? Sir Dar? My husband? Could Bardon be near?