Leetu opened her eyes, blinked twice, sat up, and swung her legs out of the hammock.
“Hungry, I bet.” Wizard Fenworth patted her rather awkwardly on the shoulder. “Dar will take care of that.”
He turned to Kale. “You come with me.”
He bolted out the front door with Kale scrambling to make it outside before the door slammed behind him. That was another one of Fenworth’s tricks for disappearing. Grateful that the planking around the castle was tightly woven, Kale scurried to keep up without having to mind her steps too carefully.
“I’m going to answer another question for you.” Fenworth stopped and leaned against a tree, suddenly relaxed, as completely relaxed as he had been energized one second before. “Only fair. No, not the one you didn’t ask, because we’ve forgotten all about that one. This is a bonus question, one for free.”
Kale stood panting. She nodded.
“I have been given information that leads me to conclude the probable purpose Risto intends for the meech egg. I know what he’s up to! No good, of course.
“Part of this information comes from Librettowit’s excellent summation of Risto’s past deeds, which reveal his interests. Part of it comes from my informants, various intelligent animals who can get close to almost anyone without that person, Risto in this instance, being aware.
“Risto thinks he can best Pretender.” Fenworth gave a mirthless laugh and shook his head sadly. “That’s the problem all too many times, ambition, pride. In some cases it’s dangerous to want to be better and prove it. Think of me trying to be better than Wulder. Preposterous! Think of me trying to create something. Foolish beyond measure. I am a lowly wizard privileged to use the gifts of Wulder, and then only in the way He designed them. Yet these imbeciles go about doing evil, and if that isn’t bad enough, they try to top each other in just how evil they can be.”
“What is Risto planning to do?” asked Kale quietly. She dreaded the answer, but she wanted to hear it. She wanted to know what they were facing. She didn’t want Fenworth to talk and talk and never get around to telling her.
“He is going to create another race to do his bidding. Pretender has tried seven times and failed seven times. But Risto thinks with the meech egg he has found the secret.”
“Has he?” asked Kale.
Fenworth tenderly put his old hand against her young face, cupping her smooth cheek.
“There is so much you do not know yet. But you are learning. No, Kale. The secret is you must be Wulder in order to create. Risto will fail, but he will hurt many. His failure may very well walk the world like bisonbecks and mordakleeps. Unless we stop him.”
He moved his hand to gently tap her on the shoulder. “But we’ve got some circumstances on our side. Stumbled on the meech egg, Risto did! Stumbled. Doesn’t have your talent for finding dragon eggs. Very few people do. But he stumbled on it.”
“That’s in our favor?” Kale didn’t think Risto’s finding the egg by accident was a good thing.
“Wasn’t prepared, you see. Didn’t have his geese in order. No, I think that’s ducks in a row. Ducks and geese also lay eggs, as do alligators and a peculiar mammal called a platypus. But dragon eggs. So rare. One must be particular about all the details in hatching. Risto had to keep the egg separate and isolated, so it wouldn’t be quickened by a warm-blooded creature. He has many plans to work out in order to succeed in using the energy of the egg after it quickens and before it hatches. Time’s against him and in our favor. Of course, Wulder is for us and against Risto. Of course, we don’t know where the egg is and Risto does. But of course we have friends to help us find it, and Risto doesn’t have friends. Has henchmen, though. Nasty creatures doing his bidding. Slaves he forces. Other things like him who do evil just because they like to. Don’t understand that. Don’t particularly want to.”
Kale tugged on his sleeve. “Will we be in time?”
“Well, now, that is our hope, is it not?”
36
A NEW START
Kale watched Leetu across the room. The emerlindian sat in a hammock, reading a book. She looked just as she had before the mordakleep attack, except her hair had been moonbeam white. Now it resembled golden honey when the honeycomb is held up to the sun. Creamy skin replaced the alabaster tone of before. And maybe her eyes were a deeper blue. Emerlindians grew darker as they aged and gained wisdom. Leetu was but a few weeks older. How much wiser was she than before? What had she learned while going through this ordeal?
“I’m fine, Kale, just fine.” Leetu looked up from her book. “Quit staring at me.”
Is she really fine?
Gymn jumped from Kale’s shoulder and flew the short distance across Fenworth’s common room. The small healing dragon landed on Leetu’s head, making her giggle and bat playfully at him. He scampered around her head twice and then moved down to her heart. He crisscrossed her body, darting down to where her feet dangled out of the hammock. He perched on her toes for a moment, looking at Kale. He blinked.
Kale’s face broke into a grin, and she laughed. “Gymn says you’re fine. He’s examined your internal organs and found nothing lacking.”
Leetu threw back her head and joined the o’rant girl’s laughter. Kale had never heard the emerlindian respond to humor with more than a gentle chuckle.
Prickles ran down Kale’s arm. Her hand flew up to grasp the bulging red pouch that hung from around her neck.
Leetu sat up abruptly, disturbing Gymn’s balance. He flew off, indicating his displeasure with throaty grunts. He winged over to land on Kale’s shoulder.
“What is it?” asked Leetu, her eyes trained on Kale’s face.
“Metta is hatching.”
“Metta?”
“Fenworth told me her name.”
Kale took the thong from around her neck and carefully removed the dragon egg from her red pouch. Gymn crawled down her arm and perched on her wrist. He tilted his head and contemplated the egg nestled in Kale’s palm. He began a thrum. The vibration tickled Kale, but she didn’t ask him to stop, nor did she move him away from the hatching egg. Leetu eased out of her hammock and crept closer. She maintained a respectful distance, but Kale noticed the emerlindian’s face light up with wonder.
“Why is it that the birth of a dragon is so much more spectacular than that of a chick?” Kale asked her friend.
“The beginning of any new life is wonderful,” answered Leetu in a soft voice. “Dragons are said to carry the heart of Wulder.”
Kale wrinkled her brow. “That doesn’t sound right.”
“It isn’t,” agreed Leetu. “There are a lot of things said that are not true. It sounds nice so people repeat it. Actually, that bit of untruth originated in a fairy tale.”
“How are people supposed to know the difference between fact and fable?”
“Those in Paladin’s service make it a point to study the true tales of Amara. Once you have learned the truth, you begin to hear the false note in a legend of ersatz.”
“Ersatz? I’ve never heard that word.”
“But I’ll bet you have heard many ersatz stories, particularly in the tavern on a Saturday night.”
“The tales told by the traveling minstrels? I thought those were based on true history.”
“Some of them are. That is where the danger lies. Enough truth is mixed with deceit to make the deceit sound truthful.”
Kale shook her head at Leetu’s words, but her eyes remained on the crack widening along one side of the egg.
Leetu lowered herself gracefully to sit cross-legged on Fenworth’s tattered rug. “When you go to The Hall, you will mingle with people who have followed Paladin for many years. You will read works written by those caught up in quests like ours. You will hear tales from master storytellers, and these tales will be the uncorrupted versions. As you begin to know who Wulder is by the evidence given you, your heart will become sensitive to His truth, the only truth. You will then know when someone is trying to deceive you for an evil pur
pose.”
Kale frowned and looked down at her hand. The egg rocked gently as the dragon within struggled to hatch. Leetu’s ideas all sounded too complicated. Kale could hardly believe she had been entrusted with the care of minor dragons; now it seemed she was expected to discern between good and evil.
“I am just an o’rant slave girl, Leetu.”
“Nay, Kale.” Leetu’s whisper was strong with conviction. “You are chosen by Paladin. You have a destiny.”
Kale cupped her hand a little tighter around the soft, leathery egg. It had been a long time since she’d thought of her destiny. Once she thought it was to live in The Hall, wearing pretty clothes, learning from wise and wonderful scholars. Mostly she had thought of what it wouldn’t be: cleaning out chicken coops, walking squalling babies, peeling vegetables, gathering rushes from the banks of the river. She figured if she was to wash dishes, at least in The Hall they would be beautiful china plates, silver cups, and golden bowls instead of the earthen pottery of River Away homes.
Gymn scooted up her arm, circled her neck, took a moment to rub his cheek against her chin, and then raced back down her arm to take up his vigil over the hatching egg. She chuckled in response to his hurried affection.
Part of the shell fell away, and Gymn’s thrum became higher and louder. He stomped his hind feet against her skin.
“Purple,” Kale announced as she saw a bit of the dragon’s skin.
“A singer,” said Leetu.
Kale nodded. The book had said purple dragons sing. “But I don’t see why Paladin would choose a singer. How will a singer help us on our quest?”
Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Leetu shrug. “Perhaps Paladin didn’t choose this dragon with our quest in mind. Perhaps one of us needs the ministrations of a singing dragon.”
“Ministrations?”
“A singing dragon can heal emotions much the way the healing dragon cures a cold.”
The baby dragon kicked a chunk of shell out of her way and stretched her tail and hind legs across Kale’s fingers. Gymn’s thrum changed to encouraging chirps. Kale held her breath as Metta used her tiny front legs to push the rest of the shell off her head. Gymn leapt into the air and gave a triumphant cheer that sounded like the caw of a blackbird. Even without appropriate fanfare, little Metta shoved the covering off her face. Her newborn eyes focused on Kale and then on Gymn. Gymn settled down, lying along Kale’s forearm and watching with rapt attention as the baby stretched and rubbed against the palm she lay in. Kale gingerly stroked her delicate skin with one fingertip.
Kale jumped as the door to Fenworth’s room swung open and banged against the wall. Her hand closed instinctively to protect Metta.
“Time to go,” said the old wizard. He strode across the small room and charged out the front door.
A burst of light filled the room. Kale doubled over, shielding both little dragons with her body. She heard the wind rip through the wizard’s castle. An eerie silence followed. She felt her body being drawn away from her surroundings.
“No warning!” Kale heard Dar’s complaint.
“What? Not me,” Librettowit hollered.
Chickens clucked. A cuckoo clock sounded three times. Kale smelled apple pie rich with cinnamon. She felt a thousand feathers brush against her neck and back. Cold air made her shiver. Warm air washed over her like a major dragon’s breath.
“Come, come now. Don’t dawdle.” Fenworth’s voice sounded far away. “Oh dear. Tut-tut. Do hurry.”
The wind ceased. The light faded. Kale opened her eyes to view her surroundings. They were in the meadow where they had left Brunstetter and the riding dragons. Lee Ark and the urohm stood staring at the new arrivals.
Kale’s stomach felt queasy from the sudden motion and then the abrupt stop. The kimens, Leetu, Dar, Librettowit, and Wizard Fenworth swayed a little as their bodies adjusted to being still again. All around them, bits and pieces of clutter lay strewn across the grass.
Dar shook himself and muttered something about rudeness. He began to pick up his clothing from among the things on the ground. Kale looked more closely and realized all their belongings had been swept up and brought with them. Leetu’s books lay scattered about. Her bow and arrows and quiver poked out of the foot-high grass. Dar’s cooking equipment was spread out over an acre.
Librettowit stamped his booted feet and shook the quill pen he still held in his hand. “See here, Fenworth. I’m not going on this quest. I’m a librarian. I provide information. I don’t go adventuring.”
With a long, steady stride, the wizard marched over and clapped the smaller man on the back. “Ah yes, friend, but I keep forgetting what you tell me. We are going into the Mount Tourbanaut, and I thought you’d like to visit your mother.”
“Leave my mother out of this.” He stamped his feet again and shook both fists in the air.
“You don’t want to visit your mother? Well, of course, I shall explain to her you were busy. I’m sure she’ll understand.”
Librettowit’s face grew redder. “She will not understand. See what you know about mothers? Nothing!”
“Well, of course. Tut-tut.” The old man shook his head sadly. “So many things I don’t understand.” His face brightened, and he again laid a hand on the tumanhofer’s shoulder. “But then, you’re a scholarly sort. You’ll take up the slack, no doubt.”
He rubbed his hands together and started across the meadow toward the waiting marione and urohm.
“Lee Ark! Glad you’re to join us. Brunstetter! Always good to see you. Let’s get organized, shall we? Got a quest to quest. Got to get moving. Can’t quest while sitting in one spot, now can we? Tut-tut, such a lot of to-do to do, you know. I like questing, generally speaking, except for the uncomfortableness of it all.”
Lee Ark and Brunstetter grinned at the old man. The kimens skipped in the grass, picking up their own things and delivering various items to their proper owners. Dar muttered about the uselessness of ironing when your clothes were transported in such a helter-skelter fashion. Leetu found her quiver first and began to fill it.
Metta crawled up on Kale’s shoulder and lifted her chin to the sun. Out of her tiny mouth came a song. No words formed with the melody, just syllables of smooth tones to match the mellow tune. Kale felt hope rush through her, and joy.
Everyone stopped to listen. It only lasted a few minutes. Joy bubbled in Kale’s heart as the notes trilled through the air. Her spirits lifted and soared, and she thought she would just have to laugh out loud. The feeling embarrassed her some, but not enough to destroy the elation. As the last delightful note faded away, Fenworth raised his hand in a salute to the baby dragon.
“Exactly what I was thinking, little Metta. Good job! Well done! Thank you, my dear.” He turned to survey the rest of the questing party.
“Well now, a new start to the quest. Part two, you might say. Onward. Except that we are going into a mountain. Downward, then. No, that doesn’t sound quite right.” He stopped and pointed to the ground. “Aha! My walking stick.”
He picked up a long, gnarled branch. Kale thought it might have been part of the natural debris of the countryside.
“Glad I didn’t forget this.”
Leetu started to laugh. Dar at first cast her a disgruntled look, but then a grin broke across his face, and he began to chuckle. The kimens tumbled about, doing acrobatics that matched their lighthearted laughter. Even Librettowit succumbed and chortled, his body shaking in merriment. Lee Ark and Brunstetter laughed so hard, they leaned against each other and wiped tears from their eyes.
“Tut-tut. Oh dear. It seems Paladin has assigned me a bunch of flibbertigibbets for a very serious task. I shall make the most of it. Adds to the challenge, no doubt.”
37
BLIMMETS
They rode in comfort high above the countryside. Kale sat in the riding master seat on Celisse with Librettowit, Shimeran, and Seezle as her passengers. The two minor dragons rode for long periods of time on Kale’s shoulde
rs, but they would get cold and dart inside the moonbeam cape to warm themselves in their pocket-dens. Dar carried Leetu with him on Merlander. Brunstetter took the Trio family kimens with him. Lee Ark, the appointed leader of this portion of the quest, escorted Wizard Fenworth.
The old man muttered about his age and his position as leader due to wisdom gained “through the ages, bleak ages, blessed ages, boring ages, and blasphemous ages.” Last Kale had heard of his mutterings, he was trying out other b words that might describe ages he had experienced. “Bothersome. Yes, indeed there were plenty of those. Tut-tut. Bilious. No, not quite the right word. Boisterous? Hmm? Battered. Yes, I like battered. Very descriptive. Must have been some battered ages along the way.”
Librettowit graciously accepted his part in the quest after a period of scowling and stamping about the meadow, picking up his belongings, mostly books and pens and paper, three pairs of reading glasses, and a pot of razterberry jam. After he had said his piece about being dragged along, he turned out to be a delightful companion.
On the back of Celisse, as her strong wings carried them farther and farther from The Bogs, the librarian told stories one after another. The kimens and Kale listened intently as he pointed out landmarks below and related historical facts, tidbits of local tradition, and fables reflecting the citizens’ heritage. His entertaining lecture lasted all day, even when Seezle handed around packets of food prepared by Lee Ark’s wife for their noontime meal. Occasionally, Metta would sing a folk tune.
“Librettowit, how does she do that?” asked Kale. “She’s only a few hours old. How can she know these songs?”
“She plucks them out of your mind. Well, my mind in this case. She’s a mindspeaker, of course. If you have the memory of a song, even one you have only heard once, she will appropriate it. She will also give back to you words you’ve forgotten so you might sing along.”