Page 10 of DragonFire


  “Now that’s not true. You’ll be with your father—”

  And would you rather be with your father than with me?

  “And that’s not fair.”

  “Children, children,” her mother’s voice interrupted the argument.

  Her father’s voice chimed in. “Are you saying you don’t want to go on this quest with me?”

  “Of course, she wants to go,” said her mother, “but with her husband, not with her father.”

  “That doesn’t make sense,” said her father at the same time Bardon’s thoughts clamored, “I’m not a Dragon Keeper. I’m a knight.”

  Her father harrumphed. “I’m a knight.”

  “Of course,” Lyll’s soothing tone came through as another interrupting thought. “Bardon meant he is just a knight.”

  Another harrumph. “No such thing as just a knight.”

  Lyll answered, “I didn’t mean it that way.” Kale imagined her mother patting her father’s arm. “I meant he is only a knight as opposed to being both a knight and a Dragon Keeper.”

  Both men mindspoke at the same time. Kale covered her ears and straight away realized how futile that was when all the parties of the conversation were not speaking aloud and weren’t even where they could see her gesture. She heard her husband, father, and little comments by her mother as she turned a corner and raced down the hall.

  Regidor, with Gilda on his arm, approached from the other direction. Kale took her hands from her ears and waved aside her friends’ concern as she sped past. She opened the door to the suite and saw her mother was, indeed, patting her father’s arm.

  Kale glared at Bardon. “You want to go fight.”

  “Of course I do.” His voice held a note of umbrage. “That’s what I was trained to do. Defend and protect.”

  She took a few more steps into the room, vaguely aware that Gilda and Regidor followed. “I was trained to fight too. A woman belongs beside her husband. Doesn’t anyone understand that?”

  Lyll moved away from Sir Kemry. “Well, I certainly do.”

  “And I,” said Gilda.

  Kale felt a wave of relief at being supported by the two other women.

  “But,” added Lyll.

  Kale’s heart sank. No question about it. Her mother enthusiastically glowed with youth and vigor. A sure sign Lyll was going to be right in whatever she decided to say, and right now, right was not what Kale wanted to hear.

  Lyll’s chin went up, and her eyes seemed to focus on an exquisite scene beyond their ken. “There are times when we are required to put our personal preferences aside in order to achieve a greater good.”

  “Hear! Hear!” said Sir Kemry.

  “Bah!” said Gilda.

  Regidor clapped, a sardonic look twisting his handsome features.

  Kale burst into tears.

  15

  PREPARATIONS

  Granny Noon’s hands stilled as she stopped midstitch in her knitting. “Are you expecting a little one?”

  Kale sat up straighter on the short footstool by the rocker. “No, I’m not.”

  “Are you sure?” The emerlindian’s eyes wandered around the nursery. She sighed. “I do cherish these sprouts.”

  A marione toddler chose that moment to spit up his milk. A ropma nursemaid rushed to clean up the tyke and the floor.

  Granny Noon giggled. “Although having them around is not always convenient…or clean.”

  Kale tried to smile as the emerlindian turned an experienced eye back to her, a confused o’rant sitting at a wise woman’s feet. She hoped Granny Noon would give her comfort as she faced this difficult separation from Bardon.

  “Kale, sometimes young women get a bit teary-eyed when they’re carrying a child.”

  “I am not! I know for sure. And I’m not crying.”

  “Not now, but your eyes are red and puffy.” Granny picked up her stitch, and her needles clicked at a steady beat again. “You cry because you didn’t get your way. Because Paladin didn’t agree with you. And Bardon didn’t stand up for you and change everyone’s mind so you could do what you want.”

  “That’s not why I’ve been crying. That’s childish, and I’m not childish.” Her lower lip had somehow managed to stick out in a pout. She pulled it in.

  Granny Noon rocked and knitted, her eyes fixed on the stitches gliding from one needle to the other. Kale glanced around the room at crawling babies and small children tottering with ungainly steps.

  The swoosh-creak, swoosh-creak of the rocking chair provided a counter beat to the rapid clicking of Granny Noon’s needles. “You know, all aspects of life are like those infants learning to move. They pull themselves up to the starting position, struggle to stay balanced, and fight to toddle in the right direction. We tackle each challenge in life in much the same way.”

  Kale looked up at her mentor. “And this applies to me?”

  “Yes, in that you are entering a new relationship and a new task. Don’t expect to immediately be able to work side by side with your father. You’ll stumble around a bit before you find a rapport. This new quest is under different circumstances, as is every quest. You have old knowledge to blend with new. You will grow and mature. Kale, although it will seem uncomfortable, in the end, you will be blessed.”

  Kale turned her face away and scrunched up her nose. “I really do know all this, Granny Noon. I’ve heard it before.”

  The emerlindian’s chuckle eased the tension in Kale’s shoulders. “I know you do, my dear. But I don’t see evidence that you’re applying the knowledge.”

  Kale sighed and turned her sour expression to the granny so she could see. Granny Noon laughed out loud.

  Kale allowed her face to relax and giggled. “What should I do, Granny Noon?”

  “You already know. I think Paladin himself once told you.”

  Contentment filled Kale at the memory of Paladin’s tender words and encouragement. “Just what is right ahead of me.”

  “That’s correct.” Granny put her knitting in a basket and stood. “Let’s go down to the herb room and replenish your supply. You never know what you might need in your hollows when out seeking lost dragon eggs.”

  They went down winding stone steps to the lower level of the palace where the cool rooms stored perishable produce. Herbs in glass and ceramic jars on shelves lined the walls from floor to ceiling. Lightrocks were embedded in the wooden beams above their heads. A preparation table stood in the middle of the light, dry room. In each corner stood a porous rock column that absorbed moisture. Lady Allerion hummed as she mixed a compound at the table.

  “Hello.” Kale hugged her mother. “I think we have come to do an identical task.”

  After Granny Noon and Lyll exchanged a greeting, they got busy. Kale found herself being the one to fetch different ingredients. She pushed the wooden ladder around the room and scooted up and down the rungs to reach jars on the upper shelves.

  She set a ceramic pot on the table in front of her mother, who thanked her.

  Wiping the dust from her fingers, Kale waited for another request. She watched her mother dip out a clear, sticky substance. Kale passed her a scraper to transfer the goo from the dipper to a bowl. “When I lived in River Away, I thought magic would be to snap my fingers and things would appear in front of me.”

  “Unnatural,” said Granny Noon.

  Lyll tapped her scraper on the edge of the bowl. “Defying Wulder’s order.”

  “Or sleight of hand,” said Granny Noon.

  Lyll pointed at a jar on the table containing thin rods. “Hand me a…” She shook her finger, indicating the rods. “Oh, that thing. No, a shorter one.”

  Kale handed her the stirring rod. “I saw a magician once at the tavern in River Away.”

  Both Granny Noon and Lyll stopped what they were doing and stared at Kale.

  Kale shrugged. “He pulled doves out of a man’s cape and poured water into a lady’s bonnet.”

  “Sleight of hand,” said Granny Noon. “Visua
l deception, meant for entertainment, not for the gaining of power. This is more like a puzzle. Everyone watching knows that it is a trick, and the pleasure is in the amazement of the sight and the wonder of how the magician manages to fool us.”

  Lyll’s face still held a frown. “But there’s also dark magic, Kale. People and things that none of us should ever have anything to do with.”

  “I know.” Kale shuddered. “Wizard Fenworth took me to a place where women talked to spirits of the deceased. And a man made a dead man walk.” Kale quickly asked Wulder to protect her. Even the memory of the place made her skin crawl. “Fenworth wanted me to see their depravity in the ugliest form so I would know what dabbling in the fringe elements could lure me into.” Shivering again, she avoided bringing to mind the immoral activities she’d seen in the darkest corners of the rooms.

  Her mother patted her arm. The touch of a loving hand dispelled the dirtiness the image of the dark room had smeared across her heart.

  Sir Kemry entered the room. “Found you! Found you both. I came to kiss my wife good-bye and whisk my daughter off on a grand adventure.”

  He went first to Granny Noon and gave her a bear hug and a kiss on her forehead. “I’ll miss you, too, young lady.”

  The old emerlindian giggled. “Put me down, you big ox.”

  With tears in her eyes, Kale leaned toward her mother. “How do you stand being away from your husband?”

  “Away? He’s part of me. I am never truly away as long as he roams through my heart and mind.” She kissed her daughter’s cheek. “And the time together is so much more pleasant for the time spent apart.”

  “That’s a principle.”

  “Yes, not worded quite as it is in the Tomes, but the meaning is the same.”

  “I thought that referred to our future time in Wulder’s presence.”

  “It does, and it is also referring to any separation from a loved one.”

  “I love Bardon.”

  “And he loves you. Quick, find him and tell him so. I’ll keep your father busy for a while.”

  The twinkle in her mother’s eye reminded Kale that her parents would probably enjoy a private good-bye as much as she and her husband.

  Kale hurried to the door. “I’ve something important to do before we leave, Father. I’ll find you later.”

  “How much later?” her father bellowed after her.

  Kale didn’t bother to answer. She trusted her mother to make her father comfortable with the wait.

  16

  MISSING

  Kale sat on a log and watched her father roam the periphery of the meadow one more time. He meandered, examining the vegetation as if the trees and flowering bushes hid something important. Of course, according to him, they did. She and her father had come through one gateway moments before, and another gateway, her father claimed, existed within a few feet.

  Her father beat at a prism bush with his staff. The multicolored blossoms refracted the light and sent rainbows dancing around the clearing. “Gateways don’t dissolve into nothing.” He moved on to push aside a fragrant bush’s heavy branches.

  “No, not usually,” agreed Kale. She stared at the band of gold encircling a finger on her left hand, then glanced over her shoulder, half afraid the gateway back to her husband would disappear too.

  Sir Kemry cleared his throat. “Well, send your dragons out to help in the search, Kale.”

  “Oh, of course.” She stood and spread the front of her cape open.

  Six dragons crawled out of their pocket-dens and took flight. Kale put her hand on the blue scarf she used as a belt around her waist. Under her tunic, six more dragon eggs rested against her skin. They would quicken and hatch within a month. Now she had other things to attend to.

  Her father might not be able to pick up on her instructions to the dragons. Kale wasn’t sure how much he followed her mental conversations with the little beasts. She addressed the dragons aloud, even though she knew they understood her mindspeaking more accurately. How could they confuse the word gateway? And it was important her father understand what she was doing. “Help us find the second gateway. It’s around here somewhere.”

  They circled her head, chittered at one another, then proceeded to swoop and careen around the forest’s edge.

  Kale gestured at the smaller trees and waist-high bushes. “Pat says this is new growth.”

  Her father stood and put his hands on his hips. “Yes, the clearing seems somewhat smaller than when I was here last. We shall step into the foliage a few feet, search for the gateway once around, and then step another foot deeper into the forest for another round of examination. Methodically, we should be able to locate the gateway.” He started into the forest. “Kale, you take that side, and I’ll take this.”

  Kale clutched her skirts close and then released the material. Poking around the woods would be easier in a different outfit. She spun and attired herself in soft boots, leggings, a blouse and tunic, much like the uniforms of Paladin’s servants. Inside the fringe of the forest, she moved counterclockwise and bumped into her father within moments.

  Sir Kemry laughed. “We’re going to have to develop our teamwork skills. Let’s start again. You go clockwise, and I will go counter. We’ll meet on the other side.”

  Kale pushed down the first thought that came to her mind. She and Bardon would not have been so inept. Every move they made was synchronized. One barely conjured up a thought before the other knew it. She could pause for a fraction of a second and pinpoint his location. Bardon did the same. On the verge of such an important enterprise, why did Paladin expect her and her father to form a new bond? Wouldn’t it have been more efficient to use talent that was already meshed?

  The minor dragons buzzed her head as they passed. Clearly, their cheerful moods were not diminished by Kale’s morose thoughts. Pat, she noticed, walked at her heels, chomping on bugs she stirred up from the undergrowth. Kale took care to avoid stepping on her small, round friend.

  She and her father met on the other side of the clearing without uncovering anything resembling a gateway. They both stepped farther into the woods and made the second sweep in the older and thicker vegetation. Pat still foraged around her feet, and several of the other dragons passed her, occupied by their own search. She met her father again after pushing through the denser foliage.

  “Right,” he said, awkwardly patting her shoulder. “Well then, the next round should uncover the hidden entry.”

  Kale offered him a weak smile and started once more to search for the elusive gateway. Again Pat kept her company, but only two of the other dragons zoomed by. She felt a tremor of apprehension as she noted their frantic flight. With her mind, she scanned the area. She located her father and three of her little friends.

  Father!

  “What’s wrong?”

  Three, no four! Four of the minor dragons are missing.

  “What do you mean missing?”

  Missing! Not here! They’re gone!

  “What do the two who are with you say?”

  Kale consulted Pat, who knew nothing. When she reached for the one remaining dragon, dismay wrenched at her heart. The last dragon in the air had disappeared. Pat flew to her shoulder and called out in a series of high-pitched squeaks. No response came from his comrades. He stamped his feet and called again. No answer. He spread his wings, and Kale caught him before he took off. “No, whatever has happened to them might happen to you too.”

  Father, only Pat is with me now, and he doesn’t know where they went.

  “I do.” Her father’s voice sounded in her mind with a deep tone of caution. “To your left, only a few yards away, is a creature cloaked against our discovering it. I can’t tell if it is ropma, bisonbeck, or grawlig.”

  Kale sought the creature with her mind and found where it stood by the emptiness of the spot rather than by its presence. She waited, wondering if her father had a plan. With Bardon, she would not have had to wonder. She bit her lip, angry with herself
for wasting thought on what couldn’t be helped. Her dragons were in danger.

  “He’s moving.”

  Yes, I know. Kale sensed the creature edging deeper into the forest. She stealthily followed and knew her father inched closer from the other side. We’ve got to catch it.

  “I suspect it’s leading us to the gateway.”

  The dragons are more important than that gateway.

  “Calm yourself, Kale. Of course, they are. But I think if we follow our visitor, we shall find both the dragons and the gateway. Cover yourself with your moonbeam cape so it doesn’t know where you are.”

  Kale took the necessary precaution and slipped as quietly as she could through the brush. Her father had also done something to obscure his presence. She had no idea where he was but assumed he advanced on their target from the opposite side.

  The creature’s shield slipped and resettled around it. Kale thought she detected a ropma, but why would one of those gentle creatures snatch the minor dragons? It moved more quickly now, careless and nervous. The shield flickered as if the fugitive could not hold it steady.

  Again her father surprised her. A surge of energy emerged out of seemingly nothing and covered their target. The faltering shield melted into a puddle on the ground, exposing an enormous ropma carrying a cloth bag. A vine sprouted at its feet and quickly trapped it by wrapping the ropma from chin to toes. The captured creature squealed and trembled, tears running down its hairy, unkempt face.

  “No hurt. No hurt,” it begged.

  Kale saw a claw slitting through the bag and knew her dragons would soon be free by their own efforts. As soon as the holes grew a bit bigger, she heard their indignation.

  She nodded at the ropma, indicating the sack it clutched. “Bounty carter. You are supposed to soak the material every night to keep it from getting brittle. Your bounty carter still contains the sounds and scent of your prey, but it is not strong enough to keep them from breaking out.” She stepped forward and placed a soothing hand on the distressed ropma’s arm. “Who gave these to you? Who told you to catch dragons?”