DragonLight

by Donita K. Paul

  Bardon rose from the chair and came to examine the old parchment. “That’s it. What does it signify?”

  “That is a Sellaran, the bird Pretender rode when he first fled from Wulder’s presence.”

  “I’ve never seen one like it.”

  “They are extinct. The eggs they laid rotted in the nests until they laid no more.”

  “And this new society uses this symbol to signify their allegiance to Wulder?”

  Librettowit pursed his lips and furrowed his brow. “It is possible that they came across an etching of a Sellaran and did not know its significance. But somehow, I doubt it.”

  He rolled up the scroll. “I’ll find Holt and put him on their trail. If I find him unsuitable, is there another we can send?”

  “I’ll ask Sir Dar when I see him tonight.” Bardon placed a hand on Librettowit’s broad shoulder and grinned. “Thank you, my friend. When I first located this hidden village, I thought my plans to take Kale away for a while would come to naught. But Wulder reminded me, ‘A leader leads by entrusting those under him.’ I am pleased to be able to entrust this problem to you.”

  “Ha!” said the librarian, blustering but with a smile on his lips. “I’d be pleased to get out of this if I could, but I see you are going to pull principles on me if I try. Where are you taking your wife?”

  “To the northern reaches in search of the meech.”

  For a moment the old man’s eyes lit with the yearning for adventure. Then he shook his head. “I’m a librarian, not meant for questing. Questing is a miserable business. I’ll stay at home, thank you very much, in my cozy dens, with my lovely wife close at hand, and little Taracinabloo to make me feel young again.”

  “Sounds like a good plan.” Bardon extended his hand, and the two men clasped forearms and shook. He started for the door and signaled Mikkai to join him. The little dragon reluctantly left his books and flew to perch on top of the knight’s head. Bardon called over his shoulder as he went through the door. “When Kale’s father arrives, he shall have a new contraption to show you. I’ll be in touch sooner than you would think.”

  5

  SURPRISES

  The chill air in a misty cloud tingled Kale’s skin. She reached behind her neck and pulled the hood up to cover her head and the veil down to protect her face. Celisse soared through another shred of vapor, following Bardon on Greer. Toopka rode in a soft basket woven from strips of cloth. The contraption hung from Bardon’s back as if it were a knapsack. And, indeed, the little girl inside already napped. While awake, Toopka chattered constantly, so Kale was glad for her husband’s sake that the doneel snoozed as soon as the dragon reached a higher altitude.

  Bardon’s minor dragon curled up on top of the knapsack. But Mikkai wasn’t sleeping. Kale suspected the dragon served as an alarm should the little doneel awaken.

  Kale connected with Bardon’s mind, hoping to ask a few more questions, but found rider and dragon deep in conversation. They discussed trade winds. Trade winds! How boring.

  Kale let go of their thoughts and returned to her own musing. She muttered to herself, “How is Father going to handle both his castle in the Northern Reach and all the business of ours?” A breeze tugged at the hood. She held it in place with one hand.

  She smiled at the thought of Regidor’s wide grin. “I really want to see Regidor. Perhaps after we have a short visit, Bardon will be content to return home.” She scowled. “Somehow, I don’t think that’s going to happen. Men like to go questing. It’s in their nature. But I wanted to stay at home. I wonder if Gilda feels the same way.”

  Celisse lifted her neck, covered with ebony scales, and tilted her silvery-white head.

  “You’re listening to me puzzle this over, huh? Well, I don’t mind. You won’t tell anyone what a wishy-washy wimp I am. Really, I do well on my own ground, but I’ve never been all that great at questing. And I’m perturbed. Most of it is because of Bardon rushing me out of our home and not letting me be any part of his plans.”

  They banked, and Bardon pointed to a herd of chigot deer below. “See the newborns. There must be a dozen of them. Amara is recovering very well from the years of war.”

  Yes, I see them. They’re cute. Too bad they grow up to smell like heaps of rotted cabbage.

  She heard Bardon’s answering chortle and turned her attention back to her conversation with Celisse. “Bardon’s very excited about this journey. And if it will keep his mind off the possible deterioration of his health with the stakes, well…”

  The minor dragons wiggled out of their pocket-dens in the moonbeam cape. They crawled to the opening, sniffed the air, decided it wasn’t too cold, and scampered out to run over Kale’s body. She recognized their mood. It would seem they rejoiced with Bardon at the chance to go adventuring.

  Dibl jumped to Celisse’s back behind the saddle. He tucked his wings close to his body to keep from being caught and tossed into the air by a draft of wind. He scurried up and down the prominent scales to perch near Celisse’s tail.

  Metta sat on one of the riding dragon’s broad shoulders, and Filia on the other. They rocked to and fro in response to the powerful wing muscles moving beneath their feet.

  Pat crawled forward to roost between the big dragon’s ears. He held on to the ridge that formed a shield protecting his stout, round body from the wind. Gymn climbed to wrap around Kale’s neck, under the moonbeam cape with only his head sticking out. Artross sat on one of her legs, and Tieto fastened his claws into the back of Kale’s glove, where she rested her hand on the saddle horn.

  Crispin emerged last from the protection of the moonbeam cape. His red skin glistened as patches of sunlight reflected off his scales. Young and inexperienced, he trotted forward, passing the horn and Tieto. With a jump, he landed on Celisse’s black neck. He lost his footing and spread his wings to help regain his balance. The wind caught his kitelike frame and flipped him head over heels. He hit with a thud against Kale’s chest.

  The Dragon Keeper laughed and picked him up, being careful not to squeeze his leathery wings. She felt a twitch in his abdomen and turned him sideways just in time. The little dragon hiccuped, and a small flame shot from his mouth. He blinked in surprise, hiccuped again, and the fire spewed out once more.

  “Oh, dear.” Kale sighed. “I know you can’t help it, Crispin. Don’t fret.”

  The small red dragon kept up the fiery blasts with each rhythmic snag in his breathing.

  “Try to breathe slowly,” Kale suggested. “Try to breathe deeply.”

  The next explosion from his mouth outdid all those before it.

  “Oh dear.”

  Her husband’s voice came into her mind. “Greer says not to start saying, ‘Tut-tut.’”

  What?

  “‘Tut-tut’ like Fenworth, your predecessor.”

  Bardon, this is serious.

  She heard both her husband and his two dragons laugh.

  Well, perhaps not life-and-death serious, but Crispin is most uncomfortable, and if he doesn’t learn to control this…this side effect of—

  “—hiccuping, sneezing, coughing, and even big sighs, he’ll someday burn us out of house and home.”

  He has learned not to sigh in full force.

  Kale caught the sense of where her other minor dragons were and quickly shielded her thoughts from the fire dragon in her hand. She felt Dibl inching up her back, using the moonbeam cape as if it were a vine to climb up the side of a building. She could see Pat approaching along Celisse’s neck. She had no need to wonder who had initiated this attack on Crispin to surprise the hiccups out of him. Dibl would choose this way to do a good deed.

  She tried to act just as nonchalant as the rest of the minor dragons who feigned ignorance of the plan. Tieto, Gymn, Filia, and Metta all ignored the progress of the two mischief-makers. Artross grunted occasionally, as if he could just barely keep either from laughing or giving out unwelcome advice.

  Crispin inquired politely if Artross also suffered from th
e hiccups. As the white dragon struggled to answer, Dibl jumped over Kale’s shoulder and slid down her arm. Pat synchronized his pounce beautifully, and the red dragon screeched out his shock at being attacked. A huge shot of flame accompanied his shriek but fizzled quickly.

  Kale and her friends waited, hoping for the best and counting. When they reached twenty without another eruption from Crispin, they all cheered.

  “What in all of Amara is going on back there?” asked Bardon.

  A cure for the hiccups. I believe Crispin is all better now.

  “Good.”

  Greer turned westward, and Celisse followed.

  Bardon, where are we going? I thought Regidor and Gilda headed north.

  “To visit Wizard Namee.” He hesitated, waiting for her response.

  Kale purposefully did not respond. She projected profound silence to her husband, knowing that would exhaust his patience.

  Sure enough, he couldn’t stand the wait and prompted for a reaction. “You aren’t going to ask why?”

  I am using my strength of will to force you to tell me without my asking.

  Kale not only saw Bardon laughing as he looked over his shoulder but also felt the rush of joy as it swept through her husband.

  You’re having entirely too much fun, Bardon, and it makes me feel like you’re up to something.

  He shook his head. “Regidor and Namee have been working on a special project. We’re stopping at Namee’s castle so he can demonstrate a weaving of a strange gateway, one that will come in handy on our quest.”

  Kale raised up a bit in the saddle and leaned forward. Tell me more.

  “No, you have to wait.”

  She heard the laughter in his voice and refused to be baited. She would not beg for details. With her lips pressed together, she scowled at him. He laughed even harder. You wretched man.

  “You are going to have some fun tonight, lady of mine. And tomorrow, some surprises. Then off we go adventuring.”

  I can find adventure in our very own castle.

  He picked up on the hidden meaning in her manner.

  “What are you talking about?”

  The snake.

  “What snake?”

  Oh, I forgot to tell you. You rushed me around so, and I didn’t check…but Artross is here. I can ask him.

  “Kale.” The tone of his thoughts was as clear as a bell.

  She giggled. So it’s all right for you to keep secrets, but not me.

  “If there is a snake in the castle, I need to know about it.”

  There isn’t a snake now. At least, I hope we got them all.

  “All?”

  One mother snake and a nest of hundreds. Well, maybe only one hundred. Artross says ninety-seven eggs, and they were all destroyed.

  “What kind of snake?”

  Anvilhead.

  “Oh, nice.”

  She thought back through the sequence of events. Bardon understood as clearly as if he had stood beside her during the search and rescue of Gally and Mince.

  “I’ll send a message to Librettowit to get one of his tumanhofer friends to inspect the lower regions of the castle.”

  Wizard Namee will have a messenger we can send. But Toopka told Taylaminkadot, and I’m sure she told Librettowit. She’s no more fond of snakes than I am.

  “Wizard Namee will not mind sending the message.”

  Kale caught a hint of humor in Bardon’s statement, and then he shielded his mind from her. She wondered if he hid his thoughts because he was more concerned about the snake incident in their home than he wanted her to know. But that would not account for the ripple of laughter that accompanied his last thought. She sighed. Her husband would tell her in due time. He was not in the habit of being secretive for long.

  The magnificent scenery distracted Kale. They were flying over the region called Tuthoutu. Supposedly, below them, two thousand and two lakes riddled the land, everything from big puddles to lakes too vast to swim across. The lush green vegetation and startling blue of the water made a spectacular view. The eastern slope of the Morchain Mountains swept up from the plains just beyond the wetland.

  Namee’s castle towered out of a chasm between two peaks. He had chosen a traditional architecture with nine towers dominating the roof line. Kale remembered it was Wizard Namee who constructed a formidable tower watching over one wing of their own castle. Daily she climbed to the turret at the top to survey the surrounding fields and observe the dragons.

  The sun dipped behind the mountain peaks, leaving a ragged silhouette against streaks of orange, purple, and a greenish blue. The castle didn’t hide in shadows, though. Namee had summoned what appeared like bursts of starlight perched on slender poles all around the grounds and on the palace itself. As they approached, Kale saw people scurrying about, some servants and some dressed in finery.

  It’s busy here tonight.

  “Namee is having a ball. We shall dance. We haven’t danced in years.”

  Excitement bubbled in Kale, suppressing her former complaints and ill-humor. Bardon, this is a wonderful surprise. Thank you. Thank you very much.

  “You’re welcome, my Kale. It was worth your fussing to bring you here for the surprises.”

  How many surprises are in store for me?

  He hummed a ditty in his mind before he answered. The ploy made Kale more anxious. Just before she demanded he quit trying to drive her mad, he answered, “Several.”

  Bardon!

  “‘Patience rewards twice, once while waiting and once when waiting is no longer needed.’”

  She growled in annoyance. If he was going to quote principles to her, she would give him patience in spades.

  As they drew closer to the lighted castle, Kale saw more activity. She searched the area, pushing her talent to the limits, trying to identify guests and details of the events planned for the ball.

  She met with frustration. Wizard Namee had cloaked the area so that his guests could maintain their privacy from prying mindspeakers.

  “How inconsiderate of him,” Kale muttered and turned her mind to designing the fancy dress she would wear to the ball.

  6

  STOPOVER

  They circled the castle once, just to take in the extraordinary beauty of Namee’s domain. Then Greer descended to the dragon field, with Celisse close behind. Kale fidgeted in her seat. Aware that she would get no results, she still stretched her mind to get a glimpse of those who had already arrived. Not knowing whom they would meet added to the thrill. Leetu Bends? Sir Dar? Granny Noon or Granny Kye? She could see spots of light moving among the promenades and knew they were kimens. Would some of her friends from former adventures be there? Unable to contain her delight, she turned to Bardon.

  Wake Toopka. She’ll be so excited. Remember how she danced down all the corridors at the urohm wedding?

  “I remember you dancing with her.”

  Kale watched Mikkai plunge into the knapsack and heard Toopka’s shout of glee when her head popped out from under the flap. Through Kale’s mindspeaking ability, she heard the child begin a one-sided commentary on everything within sight. Greer and Celisse landed on a grassy foothill set aside for this purpose. Toopka finally stopped prattling when Bardon pulled her out of her traveling basket and set her feet on the ground.

  Servants ran to greet them and, after the dragons were unsaddled, took the saddles from Kale and Bardon to store them in a tack house. Greer and Celisse moseyed toward a group of dragons whose riders had already entered the castle. Toopka dogged the workers’ steps, asking questions and mentioning every ball she had been to before.

  Kale only half-listened until she heard Toopka mention a ball in a pink palace.

  “Where, Toopka?” she asked. “Where was this pink palace?”

  The doneel child jerked at the question, blinked her big eyes, and then ducked her head. “I was just making that one up.”

  “It sounded very real. Your description of the music and the dance steps didn’t sound like
a made-up memory.”

  Toopka shook her head so hard her ears flopped from side to side. Then she looked up with sincerity fairly dripping from her serious eyes. “I have a very good imagination, and sometimes when people talk about things, I pretend they happened to me. And when I remember what they said, I pretend I was there.”

  Kale pondered Toopka’s too-earnest expression. She tried to peek at her thoughts, but as she often found, the doneel’s thinking lurked behind a hazy, noisy, and confusing curtain. Add to that the precautions Wizard Namee had made, and Kale didn’t have a chance of deciphering Toopka’s thoughts.

  “All right, Toopka. I understand what you are telling me. Now, understand what I tell you.”

  Toopka’s ears drooped, her whiskers quivered, and she dropped her gaze to the floor. Kale continued. “Misrepresenting the truth is lying. Pretending, when the listener doesn’t know it is pretense, is lying.”

  Toopka nodded harder. Kale continued, even though she knew she had delivered this exact lecture many times before.

  “If you lie to yourself, you can’t help lying to others.”

  By now Toopka’s head bobbed hard enough to rattle her poor brain. Kale wondered how much of this compliance was sincere.

  “No lie will ever stand against even the slightest examination by Wulder. Explaining to Wulder why you chose to lie would be a very, very hard thing.”

  The doneel’s head stilled, and a tear trickled down her cheek.

  Kale turned away, exasperated with herself that even after all these years she still distrusted the little doneel girl and allowed her to unsettle her. Toopka presented a mystery she often ignored, but at moments like this, all the oddities of Toopka jumped to her attention. Where did the child come from? How old was she? Was she cunning or guileless? Why couldn’t Kale penetrate Toopka’s thoughts as easily as she did others’?

  Bardon signaled for her to join him. An elegant coach had arrived to carry them the short distance to the castle.

  “Come, Toopka.” Kale removed the moonbeam cape and draped it over her arm as she strolled toward her husband. The minor dragons flew in a kaleidoscope of bright colors. “Someday we’ll talk, Toopka, and you’ll surprise me by giving me honest answers.” She avoided looking at the girl’s face, knowing the innocent expression that would be fixed there. And also knowing Toopka’s childlike air would annoy her.