DragonSpell

by Donita K. Paul

  I don’t know how I know it, but I do. Not all these people understand. But the kimens do. And Dar and Leetu.

  She looked among the dancers again, this time climbing onto a farmer’s wagon to get a better view.

  She spotted the urohm and their marione leader quietly consuming a quail apiece.

  Brunstetter and Lee Ark know what is right and what is wrong. Do the questers know more because they follow Paladin?

  Fenworth’s voice interrupted her thoughts. “The questers are in the position to learn more, Kale. Because they follow Paladin. None of us knows it all. Only Wulder. Only Wulder.”

  Kale whipped her head around until she caught sight of the wizard. He had a little girl on his knee and held a cup to her lips for her to drink. He winked at Kale.

  “Another thing, o’rant girl, you must learn to control your use of light.”

  Me?

  “Yes, you!”

  39

  MOUNT TOURBANAUT

  Kale stomped up the path, grumbling under her breath at everyone who came to mind. Her night had been filled with bad dreams. She startled awake at every slight sound, thinking another pack of blimmets was outside her tent. Metta had come awake each time, and her soothing voice crooned Kale back into slumber.

  The first morning they had bade Zayvion good-bye. He would travel back to Glim’s homeland and inform the Trio family of their loss, Glim’s gain.

  After days of flying north, the dragons delivered the questing party to the base of Mount Tourbanaut. Their wingspan prevented them from flying into the narrow canyons, and so the large dragons were left behind with D’Shay and Veazey.

  Librettowit beamed as he came across each additional landmark familiar to his youth. He bubbled with enthusiasm to be back in the land of his birth, but even he could not keep up a running commentary on their surroundings. Just like the others in the questing party, the tumanhofer had to concentrate on breathing as they tramped up the canyons. The entrance to Dael, the tumanhofer’s principal city, nestled between two peaks of the same mountain.

  Cold winds, a spattering of sleet, sore feet, and too many questions all plagued Kale’s peace of mind. The moonbeam cape warmed her body, but her cheeks and nose felt like ice. Her fine boots rubbed against her toes and heels and made her limp.

  The worst part of going on a quest is the walking. And not knowing where you’re going. And having cheerful people surrounding you who don’t seem to realize the danger behind us…

  She thought of poor Glim and the hideously beautiful blimmets, attractive even in death. She glanced over the edge of the path and realized a drop-off had formed while she trudged along. She had better watch her step and quit stomping lest she cause the narrowing ledge to crumble.

  …danger beside us…

  Lee Ark said they would reach Librettowit’s city before nightfall, but unless the guard recognized the wizard’s librarian straight off, they would probably have to camp until morning when the tumanhofer would go through the gates alone and secure a pass for the rest.

  …and danger before us…

  Once they gained admittance to Dael, they would briefly visit Librettowit’s family. Then the tumanhofers would provide a guide to take them deep into the mountain beyond where their people built towns. The questers would pass into territory where Risto’s henchmen had taken up residence. Fenworth said there was a barrier of some sort that they would have to break through.

  But when Kale asked who had built the barrier, the tumanhofers or the enemy, Fenworth hemmed and hawed and changed the subject.

  He’s not very good at answering questions.

  Leetu Bends’ voice startled Kale. “What’s the matter, o’rant girl?”

  “Nothing.”

  “You look angry.”

  “I’m not.”

  Leetu said nothing but walked directly behind Kale until they reached a wider spot in the path. The emerlindian lengthened her stride to come up beside Kale.

  “You’re limping,” Leetu said. “Why don’t you let Gymn heal you?”

  “Gymn is little more than a baby. He worked hard after the blimmet attack. He deserves a rest.”

  Leetu shrugged. “Stubborn,” she muttered, but Kale heard her.

  “What?”

  “A comment upon immaturity.”

  Kale narrowed her eyes and turned her face to the wind.

  “You’re mad,” said Leetu, “because Fenworth won’t answer your questions.”

  “You won’t answer my questions either. And Paladin didn’t answer my questions.”

  “He didn’t?”

  “Well, yes, he showed me things, but that was a long time ago.”

  Leetu hummed the chorus of one of Dar’s favorite marching songs before she spoke again. “To demonstrate her anger, the young o’rant girl resorts to sullen behavior toward her comrades, grumbling against her leaders, and stubbornly refusing help.”

  Kale said nothing.

  “Immaturity,” said the emerlindian.

  Kale stopped and faced Leetu. “Yes. All right. I’m immature. I’m tired, confused, frightened, immature. There! Does that help any, now that I’ve agreed with you?”

  Leetu nodded, and Kale resisted the urge to give her a hearty shove.

  “You are still putting one foot in front of the other, Kale.” Leetu stepped around a boulder in the path. She looked back at Kale and gestured for her to come on. “Give yourself credit for not giving up. You haven’t slowed down our expedition, and you’ve been a valuable member.”

  “Most of the time I don’t know what I’m doing.”

  Leetu chuckled. “Most of the time I don’t know what I’m doing. My advantage is more experience. Many times I know what is expected of me, and I do that, whether I am confident of success or not.”

  Kale allowed Leetu to go first as the trail narrowed and rose steeply but came up next to her again as soon as there was room for the two to walk side by side.

  Leetu offered Kale a long, thin breadstick and took one from her pocket for herself.

  “As for being confused, you know what you’re to do now. You are to follow Dar, who is just ahead of you. You trust him to be following Shimeran.”

  “I want to know if I made that light-thing in the sky, and if I did, how? Fenworth won’t tell me anything.”

  “He’s a very old man, Kale, and probably tired. This quest is asking a lot of him. Have some patience and more compassion. Work to make things easier for him, not harder.”

  “But he’s a wizard,” Kale protested.

  “And you think wizards have endless strength, endless knowledge, the answers to everything, and the means to fix all troubles?”

  Kale thought about Leetu’s words. After a minute, she answered reluctantly. “Yes.”

  Leetu did not speak up.

  Kale sighed. “I suppose this is another instance where what I don’t know is greater than what I do know.”

  “It’s hard to unlearn falsehoods, but Paladin knows you can, or he wouldn’t have entrusted you with this quest.”

  The ledge topped a bluff, and to their left stood a small wood of majestic evergreens. Beyond that, another cliff rose sharply toward the sky.

  “Frightened,” Leetu continued. “Well, it is a lie to face scary things and pretend you are not frightened. Just as it is deceitful to look at the beauty of that scene”—she nodded toward the mountain range—“and pretend the grandeur does not stir your soul. Perhaps not false, but folly, to take in with the eyes and deny with the heart.”

  The emerlindian paused and gazed with wonder at their surroundings. Then she turned her attention back to Kale.

  “Immature. You’ve heard Dar say I am young. I am certainly no Granny Noon. But when you beat back that pride that wants to say, ‘I’m big,’ then you are in the position to learn.”

  Kale had an image of a little marione, Dubby Brummer, with his dimpled fists planted on his broad hips, a pout on his face, and one foot about to stamp the ground. How often sh
e had taken care of the troublesome toddler who always wanted to do what the big children did. The image of his grubby, stubborn face made Kale laugh. The path narrowed again.

  “Put your hood up,” said Leetu as she fell behind, “and the veil over your face, o’rant girl.”

  They crossed the small mountain meadow and started up another incline. The wind calmed, and a few flakes of snow drifted lazily around the travelers.

  Kale looked ahead. Lee Ark led them. Shimeran and Dar followed. She held the fourth position. Behind her Leetu helped Librettowit climb over a fallen tree. Brunstetter and a clump of brushwood hid Wizard Fenworth and Seezle. Kale caught her breath and looked again to the front of the line and to the back. Her eyes swiveled to look at the mountain pass—boulders, trees, a cliff in the distance, gray light as the clouds holding snow obscured the sun.

  The mural in the tavern! Even the details of clothing matched exactly the figures in the picture. This scene she walked in was the scene depicted of the members of the seven high races crossing a mountain passage. Kale had seen it every day of her life. She’d dusted it. She’d even wiped ale from the surface when a careless customer had swung his full mug too heartily.

  Kale looked back just as the old wizard and the tiny kimen came around the bend. Now the picture differed from the painting on the wall. But even the brushwood that had hidden the last two members of their quest was in the picture in River Away. She’d always thought the brotherhood of travelers looked eager to face their adventure. She felt tired and weary, eager to find a warm bed.

  Who had painted the picture? Master Meiger said it was a traveling man who paid for his meal and board by drawing the art upon the wall.

  She scurried to catch up with Dar. Maybe he would have an idea. Around yet another twist in the trail, she found those ahead of her had stopped.

  An old o’rant woman dressed in shabby attire stood bent and shivering before Lee Ark.

  “I’ve waited so long.” Her scratchy voice carried a note of pleading.

  Kale felt uncomfortable. Why did Lee Ark look so formidable? Did he have to look angry, as if he would, at any moment, raise his heavy hand and beat the poor ragged soul? One old woman could not endanger them. Surely their leader should be more hospitable. Kale clenched her fists under the moonbeam cape, fighting an odd tremor flowing through her body.

  The old woman bobbed her head. “We knew you were coming—a wizard, Paladin’s choice warriors, and the o’rant girl known as the mighty Dragon Keeper.”

  The old crone held out two mittened hands cradling a large egg. Her withered fingers poked through the holes in the knitted black yarn. The yellowed egg she held was larger than her head and perched precariously in her shivering hands.

  Leetu, Librettowit, and Brunstetter came up behind Kale and then stopped.

  “Who told you we were coming, old woman?” asked Lee Ark.

  “A trader. He said it was important to get the egg to the o’rant girl.” Again the whine in her voice scraped over Kale’s brittle nerves.

  “Then why didn’t he bring it?” Lee Ark snapped. “Why send an old woman?”

  “He didn’t want to come on Mount Tourbanaut. He said the tumanhofers had no love for him. That Risto would know he had carried the egg and come after him.”

  Kale eyed the egg. She didn’t feel the draw that she had felt before, the enchantment that urged her to reach out and pick up a dragon egg. Something dark wavered in and out of her mind as she concentrated on the old woman’s offering.

  Lee Ark’s low voice sent a shiver down Kale’s spine. “Why send you to the top of an unfriendly mountain when the autumn weather is so uncertain? Why not send a strong shepherd, a young man?”

  “I’ve lived on this mountain all my life. My father was a shepherd.” The old woman snorted. “No one else was willing. The trader said he’d taken the egg from someone who’d stolen it from Risto.”

  Wizard Fenworth came up to them and promptly sat down on a rock. He was winded and seemed more interested in opening his flask of water than in the stranger accosting the troupe.

  Librettowit, is it the meech egg?

  “Wrong size. Wrong color. I don’t trust this woman, Kale.”

  Leetu spoke up. “She got the egg from a bisonbeck, Lee Ark.”

  The woman’s head jerked up, and she glared at Leetu. “Not all people are afraid of those unfortunate ones who have not pleased Risto and have been cast aside. Gorrad is a trader and an honest one. He took the egg, because he heard rumors that Risto had stolen it and Paladin wanted it back. But he’s had bad dealings with Risto. Who hasn’t? He was afraid. Who wouldn’t be?”

  Lee Ark broke in. “Yet you, an old woman, are not afraid to bring the egg to us?”

  “My life is almost over. I came slowly. No one would suspect ‘an old woman’ to be carrying something of great value.”

  Fear gripped Kale’s stomach. She wanted to rush forward and knock the egg out of the unkempt woman’s hands. Yet another force told her to run the other way, to order everyone to run.

  “I don’t want that egg,” said Kale. “It has no value. It is evil.”

  The woman stood upright, now more than two feet taller than Lee Ark. She raised the egg above her head and a screech tore from her throat.

  “Run!” screamed Kale.

  The woman hurled the egg down to the rock path at her feet. Kale and her comrades jumped away, bolting for shelter.

  A roar, billowing smoke, and choking fumes erupted as the old woman cackled and shrieked.

  Kale and Leetu ran to Fenworth, still sitting on the rock and drinking from his flask. They each grabbed one of his arms, and between them, hauled the wizard back down the trail.

  He muttered complaints at them. “Up, not down. The gate is up. Who is making that hideous noise? Hold on, let me get my feet under me. Where’s my walking stick? Best walking stick I’ve had in ages. Did we lose it?”

  40

  THREE HEADS ARE NOT BETTER THAN ONE

  “I don’t suppose the water spell would work again?” Fenworth pulled at his beard. He’d taken his hat off and crumpled it into a wad.

  “No, probably not,” agreed Librettowit.

  Kale crouched between the tumanhofer and a wall of stone. Two bulky boulders protected her and the wizard and his librarian from the three-headed monster raging along the mountain path. Kale’s eyes darted back and forth between the menacing beast and the two old men. She searched the outside area for the mysterious woman and could not find her. The giant lizardlike creature paced around in a ponderous circle, preventing any of the travelers from getting past.

  Fenworth sat at the rear of their little refuge. He continued to stroke his long gray beard with one hand and clutch his hat with the other. His beard took on the look of swamp moss, and leaves sprouted from his robes. “Fire spell?”

  “Too unpredictable.”

  “Shriveling?”

  “Takes too long.”

  Impatient with their conversation, Kale pulled out her small sword and repositioned herself on her knees so she could peer out beside Librettowit and watch the beast. Her fingers tightened around the hilt until her knuckles shone white. She forced her hand to relax and took several deep breaths. She set about locating each of her comrades.

  Leetu had scrambled to a perch above them beyond the monster’s reach. She straddled an odd bush growing out from the cliff and shot arrows down upon the angry creature. They penetrated its skin and stuck out like quills. Brackish blood drizzled from each wound, but the arrows did not hinder its movements.

  The beast roared and charged Kale. She and Librettowit fell back as one of the monster’s heads abruptly stopped outside their hiding place. The thing prodded at the boulders with its snout, but the small opening prevented it from thrusting any closer.

  Kale sucked air into her mouth with a hiss as she tried to pull herself into a shadow as far from the opening as she could get. A long, skinny black tongue flicked out of the head’s mouth and exp
lored the crevice. The wizard, the tumanhofer, and the o’rant girl cowered, pressing their backs against the rock wall. In desperation, Kale jabbed with her sword and nicked it. The tongue jerked back with a slurping sound, and the head moved away from their shelter.

  “One should never,” said Fenworth, sternly, “transport any monster in the confines of an egg shell. Being cramped like that makes it cranky.”

  Another head hovered over the opening in the rocks near Kale and Librettowit. Kale braced her feet apart in a fighting stance, took a firm grip on her sword, and sliced deliberately as the tongue snaked in. The end of the monster’s tongue fell at her feet and writhed there. With a squeal that did not sound a bit like a soldier, Kale backed away from it as if it were a serpent. Librettowit grabbed the ugly thing and threw it out of their hiding hole.

  “This is not a librarian’s job,” he complained. “This has nothing to do with books and research.”

  While Fenworth muttered about spells—wet, dry, cold, hot—Kale peered over the boulders, trying to locate the other members of their quest. One monster head moved close to a ledge littered with small boulders. A sudden flash of light sent it snapping back.

  At least one kimen is in there.

  Kale saw the third head plunge downward. She screeched as Lee Ark darted from one rock to another. Hideous teeth snatched at his back. Dar’s trumpet blasted the air. At that precise moment, Brunstetter jumped out and drove his long sword into the monster’s neck beneath the jawbone. All three beast heads howled. The wounded one continued to bellow. Then that head and neck fell limply to the ground. Now as the monster moved, it had to drag the lifeless portion along.

  Fenworth had risen and crouched beside Kale.

  “No more heroics.” She heard him mindspeak to them all. “Just be patient a minute. I’ve almost got a handle on this calcification spell.”

  It’s about time! The thought sprang up in her mind, and she jerked around to see if it had been heard by the old wizard. His frown seemed to be for his concentration on the deed at hand. He didn’t seem to notice her at all. Kale breathed a sigh of relief, but none of the tension left her body.