Dragons of the Valley

by Donita K. Paul

  Paladin sat down next to Danto.

  “Now, young man, what was your objective in occupying the boat stop?”

  Danto looked to Bealomondore once more. The tumanhofer nodded while wondering why the marione had chosen him as some sort of confidant.

  Danto told only the truth as he answered Paladin’s questions. He and his comrades had been sent to disrupt transportation, to cause shortages of goods, and to detain anyone who might have information that would benefit the commanders of the invading forces.

  Tipper brought a plateful of fish and a bean casserole, a large chunk of bread, and cheese.

  “Thank you,” said Danto. “You people are different.”

  Tipper grinned. “Yes, we are.”

  “You’re the princess?”

  “Yes.”

  “Really the princess?”

  “Yes, really the princess.”

  “What are you doing out here instead of living at your palace?”

  “Well, I’ve never lived in the palace, and I’m not free to say why I’m here instead of in my grandfather’s home.”

  Fenworth spoke up from where he sat by the fire, finishing his meal. “Doesn’t matter. She’s not going to be out here much longer doing what she is not going to tell you, as I am relieving her of the reason she is out here. Now where she goes next is an interesting puzzle.” He tilted his head as he looked her over. “My dear, would you like to take a vacation? An island perhaps?”

  “Decidedly not.”

  34

  A Cavern

  Hollee clamped her eyes shut as Fenworth started them on their journey. She focused on naming the numerous odors that drifted by in the rush of wind.

  Her wizard had taken the two statues from Bealomondore and Tipper and put them in his hollows. He informed Hollee and Librettowit that they were going to build a suitable place for the Trio to be housed. Just before the commotion of whirling commenced, he told his two traveling companions they were going to a cave in the same valley in which Paladin had once lived.

  Hollee could see flashes of light from behind her closed eyelids, but as the smells disappeared, the noises ceased, and the sense of air flowing erratically around her came to an end, she opened her eyes to total darkness. Hollee reached into the dark and grabbed Fenworth’s robes.

  “Are we in the cave?” she asked. “Should I brighten up?”

  “Yes, no, not yet,” said Wizard Fenworth.

  “What? Give us a light, Fen,” Librettowit grumbled. “Keeping us in the dark? No good in that. I’d like to see where I’m going to be spending my time.”

  “Coming, coming.”

  A light flickered above her head, and Hollee saw a sputtering ball grow in her wizard’s outstretched palm. It grew until he had to hold it with two hands. The sight fascinated her so much that she forgot to look around. He placed it on the ground, and it continued to expand until it was as tall as Librettowit. The sphere emitted a series of popping noises and decreased in size.

  “Here now,” admonished Fenworth, “none of that.”

  A sizzle of complaint came from within the light, but the globe again began to expand.

  When it was the same height as the wizard, including his pointy hat, Fenworth smiled. “That will do. Thank you.”

  Hollee danced around the light and spoke to it. “You’re beautiful. Beautiful! Oh, you make my clothes feel tingly against my skin. I like you. I do!”

  “Entirely suitable,” said Librettowit.

  The tiny kimen looked over her shoulder and caught a glimpse of the amazing chamber around them. Color exploded wherever the light hit the walls. She imagined that some collector of fine jewels had come into the plain cavern and embedded his best gems in glorious abandon on every surface. Floor, ceiling, and walls all sparkled as if they stood in a multicolored geode.

  Hollee twirled around, trying to see all of the beauty in the crystal cave. Her whole kimen village would fit inside. And if it were possible to stack villages, then it would take ten, maybe fifteen, of her hamlet to reach the ceiling.

  When she stopped twirling, she saw Librettowit helping Fenworth remove the statues from his robe.

  “Right here in the center, don’t you think, Wit?” Fenworth scooted one statue to face inward.

  “Agreed,” his librarian answered with enthusiasm. “Splendid idea, Fen. I can’t think when I’ve been so pleased to be part of one of your schemes.”

  “I believe it must have been around four hundred years ago.”

  “Ah yes, the castle by the towering waterfall.”

  “Exactly. Move Morning a bit to the left, please.”

  “Lightrocks! I see what you’re up to.”

  Hollee joined them so that she could see as well. “You’re going to put them together around those lightrocks? They weren’t here when we arrived.”

  Fenworth grunted as he pushed the farmer statue into place.

  “They were here, just not on the surface.”

  Hollee put her back to the same statue and helped. “Do people come to this cave?”

  “No,” said Fenworth. “There is no way in or out. That shall be our project.”

  “You want people to come? What if they—”

  “Steal the statues? We’ll set up a watch of dragons to prevent that. But this gift of Wulder’s must be seen. We can’t hide the cornerstone now that we have a proper place to display it.”

  “Why not? I thought the idea was to hide them so they couldn’t be taken.”

  “A temporary situation. In the end, these statues will cause thinkers to contemplate the completeness of Wulder’s world. Feelers will experience the solidarity of His love. Doers will be forced to stop and recognize a power beyond themselves, a purpose underlying their many actions.”

  Librettowit gestured to the beautiful crystals surrounding them. “This will be a library of eternal truth, a museum of knowledge of Wulder, and a sanctuary for those who need His healing touch.”

  Hollee clenched her hands together, trying to contain her excitement. Fenworth called for her help, and she let the energy flow into their task.

  With a few small adjustments, they had Day’s Deed situated so that the farmer’s extended hand touched the fingers of the female kimen in Evening Yearns. The o’rant in Morning Glory connected Evening Yearns and Day’s Deed. Fenworth, Librettowit, and Hollee maneuvered the heavy statues until they brushed one another with the slightest of touch in exactly the right formation.

  A hum rose from the statues as if their unity generated an energy force.

  “This is different,” said Fenworth. He looked at his librarian. “They have never hummed before, have they?”

  Librettowit shook his head. “I don’t believe so.”

  “Then we have finally arranged them in precisely the correct formation.”

  Hollee stood back and wondered at the sensation. Like the giant light globe Fenworth had produced, these statues made her clothing shimmy. But the feeling penetrated her body as well, and she began to feel in every ounce of her slim frame as if her nerves were coming awake.

  “Oh,” she said. “It feels like my foot was asleep and is waking up, only all over.”

  Fenworth nodded. “You’ll get used to it. But I hope you never lose the marvel of Wulder that pulse represents.”

  Librettowit came around to where Hollee stood and put his hand down. She immediately took hold of a finger. His smooth skin seemed out of place on such a large hand. Hollee reminded herself that the tumanhofer turned more pages in a book than he built campfires.

  She glanced up to see that he looked down, observing her. She smiled.

  He winked. “It’s a wonderful thing we do. Serving Wulder has taken me many astounding places. I’ve heard songs so beautiful that my heart almost stopped beating. I’ve smelled air more alive than the trees around me. I’ve tasted the foods of many a culture, and I’ve felt the extremes of hot and cold, smooth and rough, weak and strong. The books that I read are amazing, but the rea
l world is incredible. I’m a lazy old fellow who is content in Fenworth’s library. But Wulder knows my soul must be fed, and He brings me to places such as this.”

  Fenworth spoke to his light. “Put yourself out for a moment, if you please. But don’t go far. I’ll have need of you soon.”

  The globe blinked out. Only the lightrocks illuminated the three statues. The eerie blue glow reflected off the stone surfaces.

  Hollee gasped. “They look like they will dance, talk. They look so real.”

  Fenworth pursed his lips as he looked them over. He strolled around them. Librettowit and Hollee followed, enjoying the artwork from every side.

  The wizard cleared his throat. “If they move, I’m leaving. It will be proof that my old brain has overcooked from all the ideas I’ve been brewing in there. Verrin Schope has a rare talent, talent that can only be given by Wulder. But only Wulder can bring stone to life. These rocks start talking, and I’m going into retirement.”

  Hollee giggled. “On that island?”

  “Maybe.”

  Fenworth restored the light globe and pulled off his traveling wizard mantle. “We’re going to need to set up camp. We’ll be here a long time. A comfortable night nourishes a busy day.”

  Hollee left Librettowit’s side to watch the pile of things grow as her wizard unloaded his hollows. “Is that in Wulder’s Tomes?”

  Wizard Fenworth’s attention snapped to her face. He held up the hammer he’d just pulled out. “This? This from Wulder’s Tomes? Did you eat something unusual today? Poison berries? Had a drink of tainted water? Your mind’s gone wandering. First you’re expecting stones to dance and sing. Now you’re thinking hammers come out of books. Librettowit, the child’s cracked.”

  Librettowit shook his head slightly at Hollee. Only a bit of alarm had disturbed her at the wizard’s words, but the librarian’s expression told her not to worry.

  He began sifting through his own hollows and pulling out things they might need. “She’s hardly a child. A young kimen, yes, but a child, no. She said talk, not sing, and it was a comment of assessment not expectation. And the that she referred to was the comment you made. ‘A comfortable night nourishes a busy day.’ She wanted to know if that came from Wulder’s Tomes.”

  “Well, then why didn’t she say so?”

  Librettowit didn’t answer, and the two men concentrated on sorting the materials they needed to set up a suitable encampment.

  Hollee waited as long as she could before asking a question that niggled at her insides. “What will we do first?”

  Leaving behind the contretemps of their last discussion, Fenworth answered, “We’ll eat. I’m always in favor of eating first.”

  “And then?” asked Hollee, squelching the eagerness to learn everything at once.

  “We’ll see what we’ve brought along to make ourselves at home here in this splendid cave.”

  “And then?”

  “We’ll set up temporary quarters, eat again, sleep. Maybe we’ll have a bit of song and storytelling before we sleep.”

  Hollee scrunched up her face and let out a long sigh.

  Librettowit turned her way. “We’ll dig a tunnel out of here and find dragons to take over as guardians of Wulder’s cornerstone.”

  Hollee squealed and did a hop, skip, twirl, and flip dance. “This is going to be so much fun.”

  Librettowit shook his head. “We didn’t have much success the last time we tried to deal with the dragons of Chiril.”

  “Bealomondore told me that story. You’ll need Paladin.”

  The tumanhofer frowned. “Paladin is busy elsewhere.”

  35

  Reunion

  Since her chaperone had gone off with the wizard, Tipper rode behind Paladin high above the countryside on his white and gold dragon, Caesannede. Tipper loved flying. She tightened her arms around Paladin’s middle.

  “Cold?” he asked.

  “A little.”

  “It’s not much farther. Tuck your moonbeam cape around you. The fabric rebuffs any unpleasant temperature.”

  Tipper did as she was told but kept her arms free to hold on to the man in front of her. Of course, the garments the kimens made would keep her warm, but that warmth was not as pleasant as that generated by the young man. Taeda Bel had tucked herself inside the cape, so Tipper used that as another excuse not to close the front completely.

  Danto Posh rode on the second dragon. Tipper touched his mind with hers and found him sullen and not scared by his first flight. Paladin had persuaded Fenworth not to send Danto to the island with his comrades. Instead, the spiritual leader of Chiril decided to bring him along. The young marione vacillated between excitement over the chance to fly and resentment over the fact that the dragon would not heed his commands. The dragon obeyed Paladin. For the most part, the captured Baardackian wallowed in self-pity.

  Maxon rode with Bealomondore. Tipper dragged her thoughts away from her riding companion and Danto long enough to check on the tumanhofer artist. His initial flying experience had been threatened by fear and nausea. He still had some of the medicine given to him by the proprietors of the Insect Emporium.

  Wondering if her developing ability would let her speak to Bealomondore, she reached out to him with her mind. Are you all right?

  He jumped. “You startled me. I could have fallen off.”

  You’re not wearing the strap across your lap?

  “Yes, I am, but I’m not comfortable up here.”

  Are you sick to your stomach?

  “I’m not riddled with terror, but this is not my favorite mode of transportation.”

  You took the Rowser Remedy for Anxiety?

  “I did.”

  She waited a moment to see if he would mindspeak something else. Instead she got impressions of falling, grasping the saddle horn in a hold that pulverized the leather, and a long, screeching sound she finally recognized as Bealomondore screaming. The artist’s imagination worked overtime.

  A group of men walking north on a wide country lane caught Tipper’s attention. She mindspoke to Taeda Bel and all four men in her party.

  Look, there’s another dozen men going toward the Mordack Mountains.

  “You want me to open my eyes? No, Tipper,” said Bealomondore.

  Paladin’s responding laugh cut short. “I assume they are volunteers to defend Chiril.”

  The reaction from Danto Posh confused her, until she realized his agitation and disbelief linked to the fact that he had heard her voice in his head. He’d never experienced mindspeaking.

  She focused on him. Today has been rather mystifying for you, many unusual incidents.

  “Do I just talk and you hear me?”

  You don’t have to talk, just think.

  “Do you listen to everything I think? Are you constantly eavesdropping?”

  No, I have to intend to observe your thoughts. For the most part, your reflections are private.

  “But you can listen any time you want to?”

  Tipper hesitated before responding. Well … I’m not as good at it as my father or Wizard Fenworth or Paladin.

  “Then you can’t?”

  I actually don’t know what all I can and can’t do yet. I’m still learning.

  Paladin’s voice interrupted her conversation with Danto. “Look below us. A fight has erupted among those travelers.”

  Tipper looked down and saw two of the men pushing at each other as the onlookers formed a ring to jeer them on.

  Paladin made a growling noise. “That is how it has been since this awful business began. Cantankerous men volunteer and then fall into quarreling on the way.”

  Three more men joined the two fighting in the center of the ring. Tipper didn’t know why they had gone forward, whether to break up the fight or to assist whichever one they chose, but the fracas grew. Within the span of time it took Caesannede to flap his wings twice, the dozen men participated in the brawl.

  Tipper stretched up a bit to bring her mouth more d
irectly behind Paladin’s right ear. “If we could just put a few warriors from the enemy’s army in front of them, they’d do a good job of milling them down.”

  “If Fenworth is successful in setting up the statues in a secure place, one of our obstacles will be eliminated.”

  “Father will know. He says he feels it in his being when Wulder’s cornerstone is rightly aligned.”

  “I agree he’ll know when they are set up properly, but a major concern is stability. If the Trio is in a fortress that can be breached, we will eventually have to deal with the problem again.”

  “Fenworth will do something. Probably different from what we expect, but it’ll work.”

  “I agree.”

  Paladin looked over his shoulder, enough for Tipper to catch the wink he sent her.

  “There’s the village.” Paladin pointed to a small town, and Caesannede began a descent. Villagers soon spotted the three dragons and gathered outside of town in an open field, the obvious place for the visitors to land.

  Tipper watched with great interest. At last, she spotted Sir Beccaroon, his bright red feathers obvious among the common browns, blacks, tans, and blues of most of the townspeople.

  She scanned the crowd around him and found her mother and father. Her mother wore a large hat the same color as her dress. Her father had on a conservative wizard’s robe. She’d seen Wizard Fenworth’s formal robes. The material shimmered and had elaborate embellishments, pictures depicting wonders of Wulder’s creation. Her father’s most distinguished robe had depictions as well, but he’d fashioned his with black on black so that the images changed with movement as the threads caught the light in different ways.

  “I see them.” She squeezed Paladin in her excitement. “Oh, I wish I’d taken time to change into something less grubby.”

  “Your parents won’t mind what you’re wearing. They are more concerned with your welfare. All the parents in Chiril are thinking more seriously about what may happen to their children. You know of the unusual effects the three statues had on the landscape and now the populace?”