DragonSpell

by Donita K. Paul

  Dar stepped forward and offered a courtly bow in greeting.

  Granny Noon laughed. “Dar, I can always count on you to bring elegance to my humble abode.” She turned to Leetu Bends. “Bends, how you’ve darkened since I last saw you. I ran into your parents at Summer Solstice Feast Day. Your mother said you still read every chance you get.”

  Even Kale knew that was true. She glanced at the young emerlindian and saw her blush.

  “They were well?” Leetu asked, and Kale figured she didn’t want to discuss her reading habits.

  “Oh, yes, definitely,” said Granny Noon as she linked her arm through Kale’s and gave her a gentle tug toward the opening. “And proud of their offspring.” She patted Kale’s arm. “Come, child, you’re nearly exhausted, and I’ve baked nordy rolls.”

  Kale heard Dar smack his lips behind her and decided the rolls must be something special. Within a few steps, the leaf covering on the walls began to dwindle and packed dirt showed between the sparse vines. The floor gradually sloped downward. Thick roots occasionally crossed the incline and then formed a steep stairway deeper into the ground.

  Light came from rocks similar to the ones Kale had seen in the mountain cave where she had found the clutch of dragon eggs. These luminescent stones were not embedded in the walls but roosted on elaborately carved wooden shelves at intervals. Behind each, a curved mirror reflected the lightrock’s gentle radiance outward. Leetu’s blond hair, as well as the patches of white in Dar’s fur, shimmered a lovely cerulean. Each bit of pale clothing worn by the small party also reflected shades of blue.

  At the bottom of the root stair, the yeasty smell of fresh baking wafted from the dim corridor ahead. They proceeded just a few more yards before coming into a cozy room with a green moss carpet, walls lined with books, a blaze flickering in a snug fireplace, and wood furniture cushioned with plump pillows. In the center of the room, three-legged stools surrounded a table set with elegant china and tall candles in shining silver holders.

  Kale’s stomach rumbled at the sight and smells of delicious food. Granny Noon gave her arm an understanding squeeze. Her milk-white teeth peeked out between smiling bronze lips. Even in the shadowy light of the underground home, Kale could see the warmth and affection in the old woman’s face. For the first time since the o’rant girl had encountered the grawligs, she felt a measure of safety. She allowed the peace to settle in her heart. Her tense muscles relaxed, and she didn’t stiffen as Granny Noon laid an arm across her back.

  “You can wash up in the room through there.” She gestured with a nod to a solid wooden door. “I’ll just put the kettle on for tea.”

  Minutes later, Kale sat down to a table crowded with warm dishes. Rather than snatch up any of the tasty-looking items, she forced herself to exercise self-control. She’d learned manners serving at the better homes in River Away. But now she wanted to gobble the tiny sandwiches of crusty toasted bread filled with thin slices of meat and cheese. Granny Noon lifted the ceramic head off a rabbit-shaped tureen in the middle of the table and ladled fragrant vegetable stew into bowls.

  Dar slurped and Leetu frowned at him, but Granny Noon did not seem to notice. She passed out sweet brown rolls, which must have been those she mentioned at the arched entryway. Dar cut his in two and lathered each half with butter. Granny cleared her throat. Dar looked her way, and then he graciously offered one half to Kale.

  “Thank you.” She took the warm bread and savored a whiff of the aroma rising from the dark portion in her hand. Kale bit into the nordy roll, and a wonderful nutty taste flooded her mouth. She closed her eyes and chewed slowly, wondering before she even swallowed if she would be allowed another, or maybe two more.

  “Eat your fish, dear,” Granny Noon’s voice urged her. Kale opened her eyes to see a new plate before her with a slice of pure white fish and a mound of mashed pink potatoes. Kale had only had the rare pnard potatoes when they were left over from festival dinners. Pnard potatoes were so delicious, most people scraped the bowls clean and left none for the slaves.

  By the time Kale put down her fork, her middle bulged uncomfortably against the blue scarf tied at her waist.

  “Thank you, Granny Noon. That was the best meal I ever ate.”

  Leetu and Dar echoed her appreciation.

  The old woman smiled and nodded. “We’ll leave the cleaning up for a while. It isn’t good to scurry around the kitchen when you need to relax and digest your supper. Perhaps Dar will play for us.”

  The doneel beamed at being asked and went immediately to fetch his bag. He sorted through a number of small instruments and selected a flute. Granny Noon settled Kale on cushions in front of the fireplace. Leetu chose a book from a nearby shelf and sat closer to a branch of candles standing among the glowing rocks. Granny lowered herself into a rocker and pulled a piece of knitting from her basket. Within minutes Kale’s head nodded, and she laid her cheek against the velvety soft fabric of the cushion.

  She wanted most to stay here in the cozy underground home of the oldest, kindest person she had ever met. To forget about Vendela, quests, dragon eggs, wizards, and grawligs—especially grawligs. To perhaps stay with Granny Noon and be her servant. That would be a dream come true.

  8

  EXPLANATIONS

  “Kale.”

  Kale didn’t want to wake up. She moaned softly. No bright morning light fell on her eyelids. The room was dark. It must be long before dawn. She shifted and felt the hard floor against her hip. A log popped and hissed in the fireplace. Mistress Meiger didn’t like her to put pine in the fire. The wood burned too hot, and the resin trapped in the wood snapped and sparked when the flames licked it. Kale opened her eyes.

  I’m not at home.

  “No, you’re not.” Granny Noon’s voice came into her thoughts. “I can’t let you sleep any longer, dear. I’ve too much to tell you before you begin your journey. Get up now.”

  Kale sat up and saw the older emerlindian standing across the room. She beckoned Kale to follow and opened a door to another chamber. Light spilled out of the door, falling like a path to where Kale sat among the cushions. Dar’s muffled snores rose from a plush rug across the room. Leetu was nowhere in sight.

  Kale tiptoed to the door and entered cautiously.

  “I’ve a warm bath for you and new clothes.” Granny Noon’s soft voice came from behind a screen. “Come here, child. I’ve packed a bag for you to take, and I put pockets in the lining of a cape for you to carry your dragon eggs.”

  She knows!

  “Of course, dear, and I’m very excited for you. What a treasure! What a responsibility! What fun you’re going to have raising those precious creatures.”

  Kale smiled and felt a ripple of joy in her heart. She approached the screen and peered around the edge. Steam rose from a tin tub. Granny Noon laid out a washrag, a lump of mottled soap, and a huge drying towel. She patted a stack of folded clothes. “Put these on when you’re finished. I’ll sit and spin while you bathe. And I’ll tell you some of the things you’ve been aching to know. Don’t forget to wash your hair. Wait. Sit here, and I’ll cut it first.”

  Granny Noon pulled long, shiny shears out of her apron pocket. She pointed to a wooden stool, and Kale reluctantly perched on it. She cringed as Granny Noon attacked her curly hair. The flashing silver blades clipped at her locks with amazing speed.

  “Sit still,” ordered the tiny old woman. “Let’s see…where to begin? First, don’t be intimidated by your gift. You will gain mastery over the pull dragon eggs have on you.”

  “I didn’t like going through that tunnel to the cavern.”

  “Of course you didn’t, dear. Very sensible of you. Sticking your hand in holes, crawling into unlit underground passages. Risky undertakings. You’d be well advised to be a bit more cautious.” She shook her head and tsked without once missing a beat with the shears.

  “I couldn’t help myself. It was scary. In the tunnel, I couldn’t stop.”

  “Yes, well now you
know more of what it’s all about. Your mind was trying to tell you even then.”

  “It was?”

  “The image of Mistress Avion’s chicken coop was the only thing that your previous experience could identify. If you had been able to relax, you probably would have conjured up an image of the egg you already had, and then by putting two and two together, you would have understood you were going toward a clutch of dragon eggs.”

  “You think so, Granny Noon?” Kale shook her head. “I don’t think I’m that smart.”

  “Keep still.” Granny Noon lightly thumped her on the head with the side of the shears. “Yes, I think so. All you need is experience in the service of Paladin.”

  Granny ran her fingers through Kale’s curly hair, and then sharp scissors snapped around her ears. Kale squeezed her eyes shut as if that would protect her from being nipped by those shiny blades.

  “Discernment is what you need,” said Granny Noon.

  Kale wished the old emerlindian would just concentrate on the haircut and not try to talk at the same time.

  “I wish I could give you discernment, but you must learn it. Step by step. Experience by experience. They should have chosen older companions for your journey.”

  “Dar and Leetu are older.”

  Granny laughed. “Leetu is a lot older, but still a child emerlindian. And Dar is no better. Sending three children out to find Fenworth. Of course, he’s as old as the swamp, so that should give you a balance of wisdom.”

  “I’m afraid I don’t understand.”

  “Of course not, dear. That is why I am saying you need discernment.”

  Kale crushed down a remark that sprung to her lips. Didn’t anyone outside of River Away know how to properly explain anything?

  “The two who came to rescue you with Dar and Leetu Bends,” continued Granny Noon, “were Lee Ark, a marione general for Paladin, and Brunstetter, an urohm lord and ruler of a small province in east Ordray. I can’t believe Bends never got around to telling you these things. That girl! And she informs me that she has given you no instruction on your mindspeaking abilities.”

  “Me? Mindspeaking!”

  “Of course, dear.” The shears’ snapping slowed now into a rhythmic beat as Granny Noon circled Kale. “How did you feel when you approached the city of Vendela?”

  “A little scared,” Kale admitted.

  “No no, besides that. Didn’t you feel crowded? As if there was a hum of noise, like bees bumping against your brain?”

  Kale drew in a sharp breath. That was exactly how it had felt as she sat in the wagon approaching Vendela. And in River Away, too, on market days.

  Granny Noon continued as if Kale had answered. “You see, that’s because you’re a mindspeaker. Of course, a mindspeaker is also a mind-listener, so to speak.” She giggled, and the air quivered around Kale as if Granny Noon’s joy actually enlivened everything in the room. “Now look down, dear, so I can get these scraggly wisps of hair at your neck.”

  Kale dropped her chin, and Granny Noon talked as she snipped. “Living among the mariones was a disadvantage. Very few of that race are proficient in conversations of the mind. And they’re among the most difficult to read even if you’re talented. You’ve had no training, but your skills will develop quickly now that you’re with Bends. Just the practice you get listening to her and sending your thoughts will do the trick.”

  “I did that!” Kale jerked around to see Granny Noon’s face. “I did! Right after the last grawlig attack. She said not to worry about being sick to my stomach, and I asked her how Paladin feels about killing.”

  Granny Noon nodded and then placed her hands on Kale’s head, firmly moving it so she could continue shaping the side cut.

  “You see, you’re already picking it up. Now for guarding your thoughts. It’s best to put this little measure in place and keep it there. You never know who’ll be listening.”

  “Is it difficult? Can I do it right away? It is uncomfortable knowing Leetu can hear everything I think.”

  “Well, she doesn’t.”

  “No?”

  “No. Most of the time, Leetu Bends is thinking about something else. Unless a thought is startling, listening to another’s mind requires focusing. Now, to guard against eavesdropping, say this in your mind, ‘My thoughts belong to me and Wulder.’”

  “That’s all?”

  “Did you expect some long chant of mumbo jumbo?”

  Kale quickly repeated the phrase to herself and then answered her mentor’s question.

  “I thought I’d have to imagine walls or something.”

  Granny Noon chortled and put the shears back in her ample pocket.

  “Well, you will learn.”

  Again, I see how right Master Meiger was. I don’t know anything. As soon as the thought crossed her mind, she looked to see Granny Noon’s reaction.

  The old woman dipped a hand in the tub, then shook droplets from her fingers as she pulled it out. She twisted her face in disgust. “Too cold. I’ll add some more hot water.”

  It works! Kale hid her smile by ducking her head. Then she saw the pile of dark curls circling the stool. Her hands flew to her hair, and her fingers explored the soft ringlets covering her head in a snug cap. A small mirror hung on the wall. Kale hopped off her seat to take a look.

  “It’s practical,” said Granny Noon.

  “I look…”

  “Well?” Granny Noon stood with a hand on her hip, and her serious face tipped toward Kale as she waited.

  Kale gazed in the mirror, unable to form exactly what she saw into words.

  “Ahem!” said Granny Noon as she turned away. “You look pretty, child. Without all that wild hair taking over the looks of you, you can see the fine eyes, the pert nose, the strong chin, and the lovely smile.”

  The old emerlindian stepped over to the fireplace. With her hand protected by a thick cloth, she picked up a large kettle, one that seemed too big for such a small lady. She had no trouble hoisting it high and pouring steaming water into the tub. Kale had lifted many such kettles as a village slave. She knew how heavy they were and wondered again just how old the dark emerlindian could be. Granny Noon put the kettle aside and sat at her spinning wheel.

  “You get yourself into that tub before the water gets cold again.” Her bossy voice held a mother’s note of tenderness.

  Kale went behind the screen and shed her clothes, listening to Granny Noon’s melodious words as she climbed into the warm water.

  “To get into a mind that is blocked, you think these words, ‘In Wulder’s service, I search for truth.’ If you are going to listen to the thoughts of someone you know is wicked, you must protect yourself. Say, ‘I stand under Wulder’s authority.’ Of course, you don’t have to say these things precisely as I teach them to you, but it’s good to stick pretty close to the original, so you don’t accidentally leave yourself vulnerable.”

  “But what if someone wicked wants to hear my thoughts? Can’t he just say those words and get into my mind? What good does it do to block someone who knows how to unblock the block?”

  Granny Noon’s soft chuckle mingled with the whir of her spinning wheel. “Child, the forces of evil cannot call upon Wulder’s authority and use His power. Now, Kale, repeat the three phrases I’ve told you so far.”

  Kale leaned back in the tin tub. Her head rested against the rim, and she closed her eyes to concentrate.

  “My thoughts belong to me and Wulder. In Wulder’s service, I search for truth. I stand under Wulder’s authority.” I guess Wulder is going to be pretty important in my life from now on.

  “Now, dear, that’s truth, pure and lovely.”

  The gentle hum of the spinning wheel accented the silence that fell over the room. Kale rested in the aura of peace radiating from the old woman.

  Granny Noon’s sigh swept through Kale’s contentment. Her sweet serenity swayed, buffeted by a hint of warning. The vague disturbance didn’t destroy the pleasure the young o’rant felt, be
ing alone and cosseted by the old emerlindian. Kale couldn’t tell if the disquieting sound had come to her through her ears or through her mind.

  “Child, Pretender will also be more active in your life.”

  Kale shivered. Pretender? No one in River Away had talked much of either Wulder or Pretender. The very name Pretender had always made Kale feel he was make-believe, not a real source of evil. But it seemed, like gateways, Pretender was real and not just part of tales told in the evening around the fireplace.

  What have I got myself into, Granny Noon?

  The answering laugh, soft and reassuring, echoed gently in Kale’s mind.

  “Nothing you have to face alone, child.” The quiet room felt like a sanctuary until Granny Noon’s voice returned to Kale’s thoughts with a solemn message. “This quest you go on is nothing you would have chosen of your own free will.”

  Dangerous?

  “And then some.”

  Why me?

  “Because you’ve been given a gift, and those that get a gift must use it.”

  Must?

  “Must!”

  9

  NEITHER HERE NOR THERE

  Kale puzzled over the fine cape Granny Noon had given her. Draped around her shoulders, it fell to the floor and swayed gently as she moved. Something odd happened to the color every time she glimpsed it out of the corner of her eye.

  I’m not used to such elegant clothing, that’s all.

  That could be the explanation, but still something about the cape made her vision kind of muzzy.

  She stood in the center of the snug sitting room, marveling at the feel of her new clothes. Everything—her undergarments, stockings, boots, skirt, blouse, and cape—smelled new. Soft colors of brown, beige, and white enveloped her small frame from shoulders to toes. Kale couldn’t help the grin on her face. She liked looking clean and neat. She’d be warm, and she’d look respectable. But the cape…

  Inside the lining, Granny Noon had sewn pockets in two rows down each side of the opening. From her waist to the hem, eight pockets, four on each side, held one dragon egg each. Two deeper pockets hung in the side seams at her hips. Granny Noon called them hollows and had Kale stuff them with objects she said were essential for a quest. With all the things they’d slipped into those pockets, the cape should have bulges. It didn’t.