DragonLight

by Donita K. Paul

  “Were you there when that happened, Toopka?”

  She nodded her head and pushed as if she could be absorbed into Kale’s body if she snuggled close enough.

  Kale rubbed the child’s back. “I’m sorry that happened.”

  Toopka trembled, then shook her head. “One day she will deliver what she carries, and everything will be better.”

  Seezle came from inside the camp. “Kale, Gilda wants to see you.”

  Kale left Toopka holding Gymn and followed Seezle back to the tent.

  “How is she?” Kale asked.

  The little kimen shrugged. “I’m glad she’s not my mother.”

  “I meant how is she feeling.”

  “She can’t sit up yet. But she sipped a little broth made from that pork, and she complained that it was too salty. Regidor took some of the salt out.”

  Kale pictured the meech dragon stirring the thin soup with one of his long, green fingers. She couldn’t think of how a wizard would extract salt.

  “He took the salt out?” she asked Seezle. “Did you see him do anything to the broth?”

  “Oh yes. He reached in his hollow, pulled out a potato, and diced it very small. Then he cooked it in the soup.”

  “Oh.”

  “How would you take the salt out?” the kimen asked.

  “Probably the same way. I learned that trick as a child when I helped in the kitchens at River Away.”

  “I thought you might use a wizard method.”

  “A potato’s as good as any wizard method I know of.”

  They reached the tent, and Kale entered by herself.

  With eyes closed, Gilda lay on her soft stretcher. The makeshift bed sat across wooden boxes to raise it off the floor. The swaddling cloth lay in a heap on the floor, and a soft blanket covered the patient. Regidor stood from the chair situated near Gilda’s head and gestured for Kale to have a seat.

  Kale moved the seat and took Gilda’s cold hand. She held it, cupped between hers. Maybe her warmth would flow into Regidor’s wife. Kale watched Gilda’s still, pale face. The meech lady radiated beauty. Her state of rest relaxed her taut features, smoothed away the pinched lines between her eyes, and softened the mulish jaw.

  Gilda opened her eyes. “Kale?”

  “I’m here.”

  Gilda’s fingers tightened around Kale’s. “We need to move more quickly. The egg is almost ready to be presented. We’ve lost so much time.”

  “We’re almost there, Gilda. Don’t worry.” Kale tried to smile with reassurance. “A few more days—”

  “No!” Gilda shook her head. “Not a few more days. Tomorrow.”

  Kale shot a glance at Regidor. He hunched one shoulder.

  “Gilda, I don’t know if that is possible.”

  Kale winced as Gilda clenched her hand. “You’re a wizard,” Gilda groaned. “Regidor and I are wizards. There’s nothing we cannot do.”

  “There’re quite a few things we can’t do.” Kale wiggled her fingers out of Gilda’s clutch. “You need to be reasonable. We’ll get you to the meech colony as soon as we can. You need to be healthy enough to travel and arrive there alive.”

  “If I die, Kale, I want to die among my people. I want to hear the grand orchestra play.”

  “How do you know they have an orchestra?”

  “All meech are talented. Of course there are symphonies and opera and musicales.”

  “You and Regidor are musical. That doesn’t mean all meech are musical. If two out of a hundred meech are musical, then you two might be it as far as musical talent goes.”

  Gilda ignored her. “I want to see the grand architecture, the paintings, the stylish apparel.”

  Kale bit her tongue to keep from blasting Gilda’s dreams with an alternate scenario. She couldn’t help but picture a town full of meech dressed in farm clothes with thick boots on their feet and pitchforks in their hands.

  Gilda sighed heavily, closed her eyes, and turned her head away. “I must see home before I die. I must deliver my egg as a hope for the future to my kinsmen.”

  The urge to chide Gilda’s dramatics prickled Kale’s tongue. She kept her lips clamped together. I stand under the authority of Wulder. My thoughts belong to Wulder and me. Oh, Wulder, don’t let anything come out of my mouth that will hurt Regidor. Gilda is hard to deal with. I don’t want to add to Regidor’s problems. She silently counted to ten. “Is there anything I can get you tonight, Gilda? Would you like a potion to ease the pain?”

  Her lips barely moved as she whispered her answer. Kale had to lean over the cot to hear. “Regidor meets all my needs. He provides nourishment and sugar.”

  Kale stood and sidled up to Regidor. “You’re giving her sugar?” she whispered.

  “I believe she said ‘succor.’ I provide nourishment and succor. To succor is to provide help or relief in a difficult or unpleasant situation.”

  “I know what ‘succor’ means. It means she’s well enough to put on airs. I can quit worrying about her recovery.”

  Regidor grinned, a twinkle in his eye. “Yes, my dear wife is almost herself again. We will certainly be able to travel tomorrow. She will have to ride with you on Celisse, I think.”

  “Do you think we can reach the meech colony in just one day?”

  “If my calculations are correct, we should be there in time for noonmeal.” He gave her a swift hug and looked over her head at his wife. “Thank you for all you’ve done for Gilda. I know she isn’t an easy patient.” He squeezed her once more and let her go. “Now off with you. You look tired.”

  Kale turned toward the tent flap and heard Gilda’s gasp. She flew back to Gilda’s side and bent to peer in her wide eyes. “What? What’s wrong? Did you have a pain? Are you ill?”

  “You’re pregnant!”

  Kale straightened. “Yes. Yes, I am.” She glanced at Regidor but got no clue from him as to what horrified his wife. “I guess I haven’t seen you since we found out. It was after the earthquake. We saw Mother at Namee’s—”

  “How could you?” Gilda spoke between clenched teeth. “My child will not share the spotlight with a mere o’rant.”

  Regidor stepped around Kale and knelt by his wife’s head. “One-fourth emerlindian, Gilda. The child has Bardon for the father.”

  “I don’t care if it has Paladin for a father. Our child is destined to be a leader.”

  Regidor stroked her forehead. “I think it is time for you to sleep, dear one. Hush now, close your eyes, remember I love you, and sleep.”

  Her eyes closed, and she slept. Regidor stood and turned to face Kale.

  “What’s going on, Reg?” Kale’s voice wobbled in spite of her effort to remain calm.

  “She’s desperate to be someone of importance. She doesn’t want to impress the people of your world. She believes the meech are from another world, and she wants to impress them.” His shoulders drooped.

  Kale said nothing but put her arms around her friend. He pulled her close and squeezed. “I’ve done all I can, Kale. I don’t know what else to do. I think there’s something left from the time she spent with Risto. Something in her mind that twists and torments her.”

  “We’ll take her to her people, Regidor. Perhaps they do have the wisdom to replace this obsession with a legitimate hope.”

  “I want that to be true, Kale. I can’t wait to find the colony, and I dread finding disappointment.”

  Kale stepped away from him. “Tomorrow. We find out tomorrow, and Wulder knows today. Don’t despair, Regidor. Wait for tomorrow.”

  Regidor chucked her chin. “My funny mentor. I outgrew you too quickly, you know. I will wait for tomorrow, Lady Kale. I have no choice.”

  “I’m not giving you the right words to comfort your heart, am I?”

  “No, but you tried. And your trying comforts me more than you can know.”

  She slipped out the door and turned back once more. “I’m not in charge of tomorrow, Regidor. Thank Wulder, it is in His capable hands.”

>   Regidor chortled. “Kale, I often thank Wulder that you are not in charge of the tomorrows or the todays.”

  She stomped her foot. “Someone should have taught you manners.”

  Regidor laughed out loud. “I believe that was one of the things you were in charge of. Go to bed, Kale. Let tomorrow take care of itself, with Wulder’s blessing.”

  Kale trounced off, glad to hear the spirit of fun in Regidor’s bantering and dreading that the colony would be filled with meeches of Gilda’s temperament. “Nonsense!” she chided herself. “If they are two out of a hundred, what are the chances of the other ninety-eight meeches being duplicates of Regidor or Gilda?”

  She strode forward, passing the fire and seeing Bardon talking with Sittiponder near the other tents.

  “I’m sure I don’t know,” she answered herself. “And I’m not going to worry over it.”

  Bardon looked up and saw her. She forced a smile.

  I’ll not worry over what we will find tomorrow. Not much.

  42

  THROUGH A DARK PASSAGE

  “If you would let Gymn help, we could completely eliminate the last of this wound.” Kale swabbed the red, puckered line that was all that remained of the gash Gilda had received fighting off wild boars.

  “No!” Gilda turned her head on the pillow and glared at Kale. “I won’t be tended to by a beast! I won’t have his dirty feet walking all over me. I don’t like the way his kind looks or smells or behaves in that uppity manner as if they were more than lowly animals.”

  Kale worked to keep her face neutral. She relaxed her mouth, though her lips wanted to squeeze together in a thin, disapproving line. She kept her eyes on Gilda’s side, not daring to meet her gaze. Surely the meech would detect sparks of anger, if not bolts of lightning, ready to shoot out of Kale’s eyes and zap Gilda. Kale wiped the injury site one more time and applied ointment before securing the bandage.

  She stood. “Regidor said you were to ride with me on Celisse.”

  Gilda’s thin lips made a small, wrinkled moue. “Where will the beasts be?”

  Kale snatched up her cape and thrust the small jar of ointment into a pocket. “Riding with Bardon.” She turned and headed out the tent’s opening. “We leave soon. You’d better get dressed.”

  The brisk morning air hit her in the face. “Phew! I thought I’d strangle a certain someone.”

  “Who are you talking to?” asked Toopka.

  Kale jumped. “No one.”

  “Bardon says I’m going to ride with him. I came to tell you, so you wouldn’t be upset and think I was mad at you or something.”

  The lack of spunk in Toopka’s voice prompted Kale to examine the doneel. “Do you feel all right? You look a little droopy.”

  “I have a heavy place. Right here.” She pointed to exactly the same spot she had touched the night before when she had told Kale her story.

  Kale took her hand. “Let’s go find Gymn and have him take a look at you.”

  Gymn assessed the child’s condition and told Kale he detected little change. The growth had not increased in size at all, but it appeared to be solidifying. The mass was no bigger than Kale’s thumb and probably weighed as much as a dense stone of the same size.

  Kale reported the health conditions of Toopka and Gilda to Bardon. He ordered the striking of the camp and divided the passengers between the two riding dragons.

  “I can take a dozen kimens,” offered Regidor. “They’re as light as feathers.”

  Regidor carried Gilda to Celisse, then flew with her in his arms to settle her in the second seat of the saddle. When Kale mounted, the female meech only made one comment. “Riding backward makes me queasy.”

  “Tell me if it gets bad, Gilda, and we’ll land.”

  They flew northeast, toward rippling hills. The terrain changed abruptly with deep crevasses zigzagging between sheer rock formations that thrust toward the sky. The tiers of exposed rock varied between rich purples, reds, and a coppery orange. White streaks sometimes ran between the layers. Thick green vegetation hid the bottom of some of the deep canyons, but most of the landscape consisted of towers of rock in fantastic colors.

  “Stunning,” said Gilda, the first word she had spoken in several hours. “And totally appropriate for the residence of a superior race.”

  Kale didn’t bother to comment. Bardon had signaled their descent. They landed in a broad canyon with a floor strangely vacant of shrubs and boulders.

  Regidor examined the area. “Flash floods carry away all but the heaviest objects.” He pointed to a boulder as big as a house.

  “How long will we rest here?” asked Gilda.

  “We aren’t resting here,” answered Bardon. “We’ve arrived.”

  Both women on Celisse’s back twisted their necks, examining their surroundings.

  “I give up.” Kale swung her leg over the saddle and slid to the ground. “I don’t see a colony.”

  Regidor again pointed to the boulder. “Behind that rock, in the canyon wall, we should find a fissure big enough to walk through as if it were a corridor in a palace. At the other end should be the meech colony according to Woodkimkalajoss.”

  “Help me down,” called Gilda. “Regidor, I want to walk.”

  Kale went to help Bardon remove Greer’s saddle while Regidor fetched Gilda from her perch on Celisse’s back.

  “Why can’t we just land in the right place?” asked Toopka. “Why do we have to walk through a mountain?”

  “Because,” said Bardon, “Woodkimkalajoss said it is difficult to see the settlement from the air. Even from the rim of the valley where he once stood, he had no idea of the colony below. Also, the dragons cannot land in a thicket of trees.”

  “Is it far?” asked Toopka. “Will it be dark?”

  “I’ll hold your hand,” said Sittiponder.

  “I’d still want to see.”

  “We have lightrocks, Toopka,” said Kale. “You can have one of your own to carry.”

  “What if they don’t light? What if they’re broken like the kimens’ lights and your light?”

  “Then we’ll use torches,” said Regidor. He set Gilda down and then helped Bardon remove Celisse’s saddle. Kale took off her cape and pulled out the lightrocks. Toopka rushed to pick out two small ones. Then she traded one for a larger, smooth-sided rock. She bent over, trying to make enough shade to see if the rocks would glow in the dark.

  Bardon and Regidor stashed the saddles in a cranny.

  “We won’t be gone too long, Greer.” Bardon stroked the dragon’s purple scales along his neck. “Yes, I’ll call if we get into trouble, but I don’t know exactly how you expect to reach us.” Bardon rested his head against his friend’s side. “I am well aware that you believe we always find trouble when you aren’t around. But I’m not worried. I know you’re close. What better rescue team is there than Greer and Celisse?” He leaned away and grinned. “I am not being frivolous, Greer. How can you accuse me? A dragon rescue team is, without a doubt, a pinnacle of practicality.”

  Bardon joined Kale at the side of the huge boulder. “Is Celisse willing to let you traipse off on an adventure without her?”

  “She’s acting like a brooding glommytuck. If possible, she’d sweep me into a nest and sit on me.”

  “Greer is squawking too. I wonder what is making them so nervous.”

  “I thought it odd as well.”

  Sittiponder and Toopka returned from inspecting the entrance of the tunnel.

  “It stinks,” said Toopka.

  “Sulfur,” said Sittiponder.

  Gilda approached, walking with dignity beside Regidor. “A clever way to discourage outsiders from venturing into their territory. Meech would naturally choose a peaceful rather than a violent way of dissuading curious explorers.”

  Seezle led the kimens to Kale’s pile of lightrocks and passed them out. “We’ll go first,” she said. “We’re used to closed-in spaces.”

  “I’ll go next,” offered Sittipon
der. “The dark doesn’t bother me.”

  “No, you won’t,” said Toopka. “You said you’d hold my hand, and I’m going to walk between Regidor and Bardon.”

  “Shall we cease this inane chatter and go?” Gilda tugged at her husband’s arm as she moved forward.

  “Regidor,” said Kale, “are your light orbs working?”

  “Not even a flicker.” He pointed to Toopka and motioned toward the diminishing pile beside Kale. “Hand me one of those, please.”

  Toopka clutched the two she held tightly to her chest. “I can’t. I can’t put these down.”

  Bardon tossed a lightrock to Regidor, then helped Kale put the remainder back in her cape.

  “Hurry up.” Toopka danced, hopping from one foot to the other. “They’re going to get too far ahead of us.”

  “We’re coming,” said Kale as she put on her cape. “What are you going to do about holding Sittiponder’s hand?”

  “Ooh,” Toopka groaned at her dilemma. “Sitti, you’re just going to have to hold on to me. Grab my arm and don’t let go.”

  “Aye, aye, sir.” The tumanhofer saluted with a silly grin on his face.

  Toopka dragged him around the huge rock and into the narrow opening, all the time urging Kale and Bardon to hurry.

  Kale wrinkled her nose at the strong odor.

  “The lightrocks work,” Toopka hollered from the tunnel.

  “I never thought they wouldn’t,” said Bardon.

  They stepped farther into the darkness, and the rocks glowed a satisfying bright blue. Kale let out a relieved sigh. “The possibility had crossed my mind.”

  The trek through the mountain took little time. The crack in the rock made few turns, no rocks littered the floor to trip them, and other than the unpleasant smell, nothing hindered their progress. They stepped out into sunshine filtered through a mass of green leaves. The kimens silently gathered everyone’s lightrocks and brought them back to Kale, who stored them in her cape.

  “Now what?” asked Toopka. “Where’re the meeches?”

  “North,” said Regidor. “Are you able to make it, my dear? Would you like me to carry you?”

  Gilda’s chin went up. “I shall make it on my own. Thank you.”