DragonSpell

by Donita K. Paul

  Dar clicked his tongue and shook his head. Once again he started after Leetu, speaking over his shoulder, “Oh, to have the horribly deficient olfactory equipment of an o’rant.”

  Kale gave one last look at the place she thought she’d seen something and followed Dar. After only a few minutes, she felt the little hairs on the back of her neck rise.

  Someone is watching us.

  She stopped and listened. She heard the footfalls of Dar ahead of her but nothing from the nimble-footed Leetu. Insects and birds sounded natural enough. Occasionally, she heard a distant splash as if a small fish had jumped, or something fell in the water. Nothing like the human hiccup and the snakish hiss she’d heard before. As if conjured up by her thoughts, a shiny green snake slithered along a tree limb to her right. Her eyes went from the snake to Dar many yards ahead of her. Kale gave up trying to figure out anything but how to keep up with the doneel.

  The trees grew thicker and the water deeper. Less land poked up through the marsh, and Leetu led them upward to walk through The Bogs on the lowest branches of the cygnot trees. At regular intervals on each huge trunk, limbs stuck straight out and twined with the limbs of neighboring trees. This made floors of tightly woven greenery in a network of strong branches.

  Walking over this network was actually easier than walking among the roots and water below. Usually the space from one layer of branches to the one above was five or six feet. Dar and Leetu were both short enough not to be bothered much by the limbs above. Dar, surefooted as he was, had no problems. And of course Leetu’s foot landed without fail on a strong branch.

  Kale struggled. Her skirt and cape caught on twigs and wrapped around her legs. She was just tall enough that her hair got snagged, and occasionally she had to crouch. Between watching where to put her feet and keeping her head out of the upper layer of branches, she fell behind.

  Each time she approached the trunk of the next tree, the thicker limbs provided easier steps, and she hurried. Most often the trees grew close enough together that it was hard to tell where one tree left off and the other began. But a few cygnots were spaced far enough apart that thin limbs interlaced in a shaky floor. Here Kale knew one misstep would send her crashing through to the water below. She had just eased herself over one of these areas when she glanced up to see how far ahead Leetu and Dar had gone.

  A dozen feet ahead, a man stood in her way. She saw his feet first. The brown boots sagged around his ankles. Green-gray robes hung like wrinkled bark from narrow shoulders. His head disappeared into the cygnot branches of the level above. A long moss-colored beard and wisps of scraggly gray hair tumbled over his chest.

  Kale blinked. The man was still there.

  She retreated one step and lost her footing. She fell backward toward the thinner branches. They gave way but snagged her clothing so she hung suspended.

  Kale struggled to hold on to the swaying structure and managed to hook an arm over a branch. Sunk beneath the level of most of the leaves, her vision was obscured, but she could hear.

  “Oh dear, oh dear, tut-tut, oh dear.” The muttering came from the man she’d seen.

  “Help me!” she demanded.

  “Oh dear.”

  Kale managed to get her hand through the foliage and grab a branch to hoist herself higher. She looked in the direction where she’d seen the old man and saw only a tree trunk with a massive cascade of moss where she thought she’d seen a beard.

  Dar and Leetu were running back through the cygnots.

  In moments they lifted her, Dar pulling her up while Leetu unsnagged her clothing.

  “Did you see him?” Kale gasped.

  “Who?” asked Dar.

  “The old man.”

  Dar and Leetu looked around.

  “Where?” asked Dar.

  “He was there.” Kale pointed to the tree trunk.

  Leetu shook her head. “Just a trick of the light. No one’s around.”

  “He spoke!” Kale insisted.

  “What did he say?” asked Dar.

  “Well, he said, ‘Oh dear.’”

  “Is that all?”

  Kale felt her face grow warm in a blush. “He said, ‘Tut-tut.’”

  Leetu reached down and helped Kale to her feet. “Sounds like bird noises to me.”

  “It wasn’t a bird. It was a man. An old man. A tall old man.”

  “Where did he go, then?” asked Leetu, once more scanning the area.

  Kale looked around hopelessly. Where did he go?

  A bird fluttered through the canopy and landed close to the trunk Kale had believed was a man. It preened a moment, running its bright yellow bill over ebony wing feathers.

  “Tut-tut,” it twittered.

  Kale stamped her foot on the thick branch beneath her, and the leaves shook in protest all around.

  “Oh dear, tut-tut.” The bird bobbed its head and looked askance at the people invading its territory. “Tut-tut-tut-tut-tut-tut…”

  “Oh, go away, you stupid bird.” Kale balled up her fists and then folded her arms in front of her. I will not cry.

  Dar took a step toward the bird and gave it a speculative look. “Maybe it’s Fenworth,” he said.

  “The bird?” asked Kale.

  “No, not the bird,” said Leetu, and she began examining the area more closely. “But Wizard Fenworth has a reputation…”

  The bird flew away as she walked up to the tree trunk and placed her palm on the bark. Dar took Kale’s hand and pulled her to stand beside Leetu.

  “Fenworth?” Leetu’s voice sounded soft and persuasive.

  “Wizard Fenworth,” said Dar. “We really do need to speak to you.”

  Kale felt she must add to their pleas, but couldn’t think of a thing to say. “Sir?” she croaked.

  From a distant branch the bird watched. “Oh dear, oh dear, oh dear, oh dear, oh dear, oh dear, oh dear, tut-tut-tut.”

  “I think we’re talking to a tree,” said Dar and turned away.

  Leetu sighed. “He’s the master of The Bogs. We won’t find him unless he wants to be found.” She went to pick up the pack she’d dropped when she ran to rescue Kale.

  “So what are we going to do?” asked Kale.

  “Keep walking,” answered Dar.

  “Where to? For how long?”

  “It doesn’t matter where. And how long? Until Wizard Fenworth decides we can find him.”

  “Aren’t there any other choices?”

  “No,” said Leetu and Dar in unison.

  13

  DANGEROUS SHADOWS

  Dusk in The Bogs brought out a multitude of insects. They chirped, chittered, and clicked in the vegetation. They buzzed and whined around the travelers’ ears. Some of them stung and bit. Kale hated it when they crept across her skin.

  Dar, Leetu, and Kale stopped for the night, setting up camp in the thick branches near the trunk of a cygnot tree. The foliage thickly intertwined to make a secure floor. Kale had no doubt she would sleep soundly if she could ignore the bugs. Spreading her cape out over the springy limbs, she settled down to eat her next meal wrapped by Granny Noon in the loose-woven cloth. The lettuce still crispy, the meat as fresh as when first cut, the sandwich satisfied her hunger.

  Dar came over.

  “Tired?” he asked.

  “Yes,” admitted Kale.

  He handed her a waxy bar. “Rub this on your face, hands, and ankles. It keeps the bugs away.”

  Kale gratefully took the thick, sweet-smelling stick and scrubbed it over her exposed skin.

  When she gave it back to Dar, she noticed his clothes.

  “You changed.”

  The doneel wore green trousers that hung loosely on his short legs. Over a crisp white shirt, a long emerald jacket flowed to his knees.

  “I don’t like to wear the same thing at night as I did all day. I don’t sleep well in dirty clothes.” He sat cross-legged beside Kale and fingered the material of her cape. “This didn’t tear when you fell through the cygnot floori
ng.”

  “No, but my skirt has big holes in it.”

  Dar’s ears perked up. “Give it to me, and I’ll mend it.”

  Kale stared at him.

  “Really,” Dar insisted. “I like to sew. Many in my family are tailors.”

  “Is that what you would like to be?”

  Dar shook his head. “No. Unfortunately, I was born with the wanderlust. It happens sometimes with doneels. If you have the spirit of adventure, it’s painful to have to stay in one place.”

  “So that’s why you’re in Paladin’s service?”

  “I’m an adjunct.”

  “I don’t know what an adjunct is.”

  “I am officially accompanying you and Leetu because the meech egg was stolen from the doneel region of Wittoom. I am not officially from The Hall.”

  “Oh, I thought you were.”

  “I know.” Dar looked over to where Leetu sat reading a book. She had a lightrock in her lap, and the glow lit both the pages of her book and her face. He picked a broad leaf from the floor and bent it back and forth in his hands. “Someday I hope to be accepted at The Hall as one of their warriors. But there is a prejudice against doneels. We are considered too fastidious. Our love of music is supposed to be at odds with a desire to fight for right.” He sighed and tossed the leaf away. “How silly!”

  “I agree,” said Kale. “I’ve seen you fight against the grawligs, and you are a brave warrior.”

  Dar winked at her and grinned. “But I do like to look nice.”

  Kale smiled back. She leaned closer to whisper, “I like to look nice too.”

  “Then give me your skirt, and I’ll fix it.”

  Dar jumped up and turned his back.

  Kale stood and untied the cord at her waist. When she removed the torn and stained skirt, the blouse Granny Noon had given her hung down to her knees like a nightshirt.

  “Here,” she said.

  Dar reached a hand back over his shoulder. Kale placed the skirt in his fingers and sat down as the doneel walked away. Dar’s skillful whistling drifted over his shoulder. Fiddlers had played the same elaborate tune at the River Away Tavern. The sound reminded her how far she had come in such a short time. Her old home seemed a different world to her now.

  Will I ever get to my new home?

  Reaching into a hollow in her cape, she pulled out her lightrock and one of the books Leetu had given her at Granny Noon’s. The Care and Feeding of Minor Dragons.

  The first chapter described the different types of dragons, their nesting habits, and the expected hatching patterns. Kale identified her eggs as those of minor dragons. These creatures would hatch thirty-three days after they had “quickened.” To quicken a dragon egg, a warm-blooded creature must provide nurture. As Kale read, she realized she had done this with the first egg. By placing it in a pouch and hanging it next to her skin, near her heart, she had quickened the embryo inside.

  Two weeks? With careful fingers, she touched the spot where her blouse bulged slightly from the egg pouch underneath.

  I found the egg and showed it to the village council. Then they had to think and talk and think some more and talk some more to decide what to do. That took three days. I traveled for twenty-seven days. I spent the night in the cave and traveled another day. And today is one more. Thirty-two!

  Kale pulled the egg pouch from under her blouse and hastily opened the top. When she slipped the egg out into her hand, she saw a fine network of cracks covering the shell. The egg had once been alabaster white. Now it appeared bluish-gray even in the azure light from her rock. As she held the egg tenderly in her palm, she felt movement within.

  “Oh. Oh!” she whispered, barely containing her excitement. She glanced around to see if the others had noticed what was happening.

  Dar bent over his sewing; Leetu’s nose was in her book.

  Should I show them? Kale looked back at the egg. No. This is between me and the dragon inside.

  She held the egg close to her chest with one hand and picked up the book with the other. She needed to read more. What should she do when the shell cracked open? What should she feed the baby dragon? Should he be wrapped warmly or kept cool?

  She read as long as she could keep her eyes open. Finally she tucked the egg back in its pouch, slipped the pouch securely beneath her blouse, and put the book and lightrock away. Even as she closed her eyes, she wondered about the baby dragon.

  Will I be able to take care of it well enough? Did Wulder really decide I should be the one to raise the dragon? Is it a girl or a boy? What do you name a dragon? If Wulder gave me this responsibility, will He also tell me how to do a good job? When Mistress Meiger gave me a new task, she always made sure I knew how to do it. Surely Wulder is smarter than Mistress Meiger.

  Sunbeams filtered through the dense branches above and made a dappled green light in the bower around the three travelers. Kale opened her eyes, touched the pouch beneath her blouse, and sat up. The egg was still whole, Dar and Leetu were awake, and Kale was starved. Beside her, the skirt lay folded neatly. She shook it out to put it on and discovered Dar had remodeled it with his needle. Now she had a pair of knickers.

  “Dar!”

  He looked up at her call and grinned, the comical smile spreading from ear to ear. “Do you like them?”

  “This is wonderful.” Kale stood as he turned back to his breakfast. She pulled the knickers on, then tucked in her blouse. Twirling around on the thickly woven branch floor beneath her feet, she laughed. “This will be so much easier to walk in.”

  “Put on your boots,” ordered Leetu, but Kale saw the friendly smile on the emerlindian’s face. “Eat breakfast, sleepyhead. We have miles to go today.”

  Kale sat down again and pulled on her soft leather boots, tucking the new pant legs into the tops. “Do we know where we’re going?” she asked.

  “No,” admitted Leetu. “But I aim to waste no time getting there.”

  Dar laughed. He had a bowl in his hand and spooned up what looked like porridge. Kale eyed his breakfast, and her stomach rumbled.

  Again the cheerful doneel laughed. “There’s plenty for you, if Leetu will wait long enough for you to eat.”

  Leetu had her bags packed. She sat down, rested her back against a trunk, and pulled out her book.

  Kale smiled at Dar and winked. “I think I have time.”

  She savored the warm pudding, which tasted of cinnamon and apples, while Dar heated water for washing in a kettle over the fire.

  The doneel took the dishes when she finished eating. “I’ll go below with these and use swamp water to rinse off the worst of the leftovers.” He disappeared through a gap in the flooring.

  Kale put on her cape and then took out the egg to have one last look before they began the day’s journey. As she cradled it, three sharp taps bumped against one palm. Then the dragon within lay quiet for a moment. The taps occurred on the other side of the egg next.

  Just like the book said. He, or she, is twitching and turning. Maybe today the egg will hatch. She looked over to where Leetu still read. Maybe I should tell her. Suppose we ought to stay in one place to let the dragon rest instead of being jostled around all the time? She remembered the page that said dragons traveled well, but she couldn’t help but think of how fragile a chicken egg was. Of course, a dragon egg was more like a stone.

  She ran her finger across the crackled surface of her egg and realized the shell felt more like leather now than rock. Out of the corner of her left eye, she saw movement. Dar had gone down to the marsh level on her right. Why would he be coming up a different way?

  She turned her head and saw only a dark shadow across the leaves. It rippled some, much like the other patches of dark and light cast by the sun and branches above. A shiver of fear ran down her spine. The shadow moved toward her emerlindian friend.

  “Leetu!” Kale screamed.

  Leetu sprang to her feet, a long-bladed dagger in her hand. The shadow rose up and formed a hideous monster. Tall and m
assive, the black shape seemed to fill up the small bower. Now that it stood upright, Kale could see arms reaching toward Leetu, a bloblike head silently wagging back and forth. He stood on two thick legs. A thin tail disappeared through the leaf floor at the spot where the shadow had first appeared.

  Mordakleep!

  Still clutching the precious egg, Kale looked around for some kind of weapon. Dar’s sword lay in its scabbard across his packs. She leapt to grab it. For a few costly seconds, she struggled to release the blade from its sheath. When she turned with the sword in her hand, she saw that two more mordakleeps had oozed up through the floor and were taking shape around Leetu. The mordakleeps made no noise but plodded purposefully. Their grotesque mouths chomped, lips slapping against each other, teeth showing sharp and yellow. They looked eager to take a bite out of anything in their way.

  Swinging the sword wildly before her, she charged the monsters attacking Leetu. Her blade cut through the nearest mordakleep. Black goo spurted, then splattered the front of her cape, her arms, and her boots. The liquid sizzled as it hit the moonbeam material and evaporated in a noxious fume. The globs of black drops pooled and skittered away like mercury.

  The monster whirled around and clipped her chin with a backhanded swing of one of his massive arms. Kale flew backward and landed against a cygnot trunk. She gasped for breath and then shrieked again as she saw the mordakleep bend over and scoop up the egg she’d dropped from her hand.

  Cold terror and then a sick emptiness seized her heart. Tears streamed down her cheeks as she stood to face the monster advancing toward her. Now she could see the features of his face, the gray hollows from which small red eyes glared, the wide mouth with a green tongue flicking over thin lips.

  He silently lurched over the intertwined limbs, his great weight making the whole floor undulate like waves on an ocean. Clenching Dar’s sword around the hilt with both hands, Kale waited for the monster to lumber close enough for her to hit. She saw the flurry of activity beyond. Leetu battled three creatures. Two more mordakleeps emerged from the cygnot floor. Dar had reappeared to help in the fight. But Kale’s attention focused on the ugly mass of black slime menacing her.