DragonQuest
“You’re right,” she said, stroking the side of his belly with one finger. “I feel sick. But I don’t think it’s anything you can cure.”
Dibl and Ardeo foraged for bugs among the purple fall leaf blanket beneath the tree. But Metta abandoned the hunt and flew to Kale’s other shoulder.
“We’re talking about going into battle, and I’m scared.” She glanced around at the mariones dispersing to do what had to be done and tried to swallow the lump in her throat. “Do you think they know, Metta, how awful it’s going to be? I’ve only been in skirmishes. I can’t imagine a full battle. I don’t want to.”
“Do you remember how I got my medal, Kale?”
She jumped at the sound of Dar’s voice at her elbow.
“Your medal? For fighting the Creemoor spiders at The Hall?”
“Yes.”
“I remember.”
“Do you remember I said I got the medal when I was just trying to stay alive?”
She nodded. “Yes.”
“That’s what it’s like in the big battles. You’ve fought before. You don’t think about your fear. You just try to stay alive. And if you see a chance to help a comrade, you take it.”
She nodded again, but her throat had closed around that lump again, and she couldn’t speak.
Dibl came to roost on her head, his little claws digging into her hair. Dar patted her arm. “Don’t worry. Wulder has given you what you need for this encounter, and He’s given you a place to go if you don’t live through it.”
Dibl pulled slightly on the hair wrapped around his toes. Kale rolled her eyes at Dar and allowed a small smile to lift the corners of her mouth. “Thanks for the comforting words, Dar.”
“Anytime.” He winked at her.
“Come on, Kale,” Bardon called. He and Regidor and the four marione men stood across the road, ready to march to the market field.
She shoved away from the tree. I’ll get right in the middle of that knot of warriors and let them protect me.
“That’s a plan, Kale!” Dar beamed at her. “Your intelligence is a better weapon than your brawn.”
She compared her skinny arms to the muscles rippling over the mariones’ backs and arms. “What brawn?”
“Exactly!” said Dar as he waved her off and headed back to the meeting house.
She took a few steps toward Bardon, stopped abruptly, and turned back. Dar strolled toward the meeting house.
Did you just read my mind?
He didn’t even turn. “Kale, you have more important things to occupy your mind.”
Did you?
“Of course not. Bardon is waiting.”
“Won’t they know we’re coming?” asked Bolley. “That female meech can tell what you’re thinking, right?”
Kale gladly answered. “Regidor can block her ability to know what our plans are.”
Bardon led his men to the potion tent. Without waiting to watch that confrontation, Kale and Regidor entered the fortuneteller’s tent with the minor dragons flying in attendance.
Gilda remained seated and did not move.
Regidor stood by the door. The dragons swooped around the room, inspecting all the darkest corners. Gilda ignored them all.
A surge of impatience rose in Kale. The woman swathed herself in thick clothing, moved only when forced to, spread discontent among people who had done her no harm, and acted as if she were a queen.
But Paladin said the meech dragon must be treated with mercy. She was born into this situation and needs to be rescued. Regidor made an attempt on our last visit. I suppose before we disable her powers, tie her up, and haul her off with us, I ought to give kindness a try as well.
Kale walked around the black table and stood beside Gilda’s still form. “I would like to see your face.”
Gilda didn’t move.
“Really,” said Kale. “I think if I could look in your eyes, I might be able to at least begin to understand you.”
Still Gilda did not respond. Kale put her hand on the female meech’s shoulder, and the clothing collapsed.
Dibl did somersaults in the air, and Metta squealed her surprise.
“Very clever,” said Regidor.
“Where is she?” asked Kale.
Regidor tilted his head and surveyed the room. After turning slowly in a complete circle, he answered, “She’s in this room but not in her own form. Let’s look around and see how she may be hiding.”
“She’s changed herself into something?”
“I don’t know if she has the skill to do it herself, or if this is Risto’s doing. Pick up that pile of clothing and shake it out. See if anything falls to the floor.”
Kale did as Regidor suggested. The hat fell out of the layer of veil. She peeled a blouse from inside the dark purple jacket. Petticoats slipped out of the purple skirt. The half boots contained empty stockings. She sighed with disappointment.
Dibl abandoned his jovial air dance and set to work. He crawled along the floor, nibbling on bugs as he looked for clues. Metta sat on the back of Gilda’s chair. Kale picked her up. The little dragon shivered with dismay over the disappearance of the meech. “We’ll find her, Metta. It doesn’t look like anyone hurt her.”
Kale continued to stroke Metta as she walked around the room. “What are we looking for?” she asked Regidor.
He spoke over his shoulder as he examined a pillow. “Well, I’m looking for that shimmer of light I sometimes see around people. Hers was a particularly disheveled pattern.”
“I’ve never seen any lights.”
“Then I suppose you should look for something that’s out of place, or something that’s here now that wasn’t before.”
“Wouldn’t it be most logical for her to change herself into a living thing, like a cat or dog, a bird or mouse?”
“That would be the easiest transformation, but Risto is above doing something simple.”
“Still, I’d be happier if Dibl would quit eating those bugs. Dibl, stop it. You might eat Gilda.”
Dibl rolled on the floor and bumped into a table leg. He lay there with his sides jiggling as he laughed.
“It’s not funny!” She pursed her lips and tried not to smile at his antics.
“I hardly think she’s a bug, Kale.” Regidor prowled the room, looking in various boxes, trunks, and under cushions.
“No, I guess you’re right. She doesn’t have the personality to allow herself to be an insect.”
Ardeo and Gymn investigated the corners of the room. Ardeo’s light brightened each dark cranny. Gymn trilled in excitement.
She hurried to where the minor dragons danced around some object. “They found something.”
A coin lay on the canvas flooring of the tent next to the cushions that must have been Gilda’s daybed. Regidor picked up the large disk and examined it as Gymn and Ardeo hovered around his shoulders.
“No, I don’t think so,” said Regidor. He flipped it in the air and tossed it on the table.
“What about this?” Kale pointed to a small, standing mirror on an upright trunk. “This seems out of place. Why would Gilda want a mirror?”
Regidor started to cross the room.
“Never mind,” said Kale. “Metta says it was here before.”
She put her hands on her hips and surveyed the interior of the tent.
“This is hopeless, Regidor. What makes you think she’s still here?”
“I know she is. I can feel a sort of vibration in the air, one that I noticed when we were in the tent before. I thought it came from her.” He shook his head and grimaced. “Maybe I was wrong.”
She almost chuckled. I doubt that! He just needs to focus. “Stop and be still, Regidor. See if you can tell whether that feeling is stronger in one part of the tent.”
Regidor stood motionless for a moment with his eyes closed. Kale watched him breathe in and out. It occurred to her that Regidor, in this almost motionless state, reminded her of Gilda’s restrained presence.
Regidor
moved to the shiny black table. The lantern burned with a flickering yellow flame. A handkerchief of white linen lay on the table where Gilda had been sitting.
Regidor picked up an earthenware jug with a cork stopper. He gently tilted it from side to side. Water sloshed within.
“A plain jug of water,” he said, his teeth gleaming white in the combined light of the lantern and Ardeo’s glow. “Or the essence of one meech dragon.”
Kale smiled. “You found her.”
“Yes, and unless we spill her, she should be easy to keep track of.”
Dibl gave a tiny hoot. Gymn landed on Kale’s shoulder and flapped his wings.
“I believe she did this herself, Regidor,” said Kale as she looked at the finely shaped clay bottle. “If Risto had been here and changed her, wouldn’t he have taken her away?”
“That’s a thought, Kale. But what if he wants her to travel with us and for us to think she is harmless in this state?”
She considered the possibility. “So we’d best be wary.”
“It is always best to be wary.”
50
BUILDING THE GATEWAY
A wide lane built atop a levee stretched into the bog from the main road. Neither the lane nor the levee had existed several hours before. Men, ready to fight for their homes, gathered on the main road. Women and children stood by their men, waiting to say good-bye.
Kale saw Master Meiger, and for the moment he didn’t have someone demanding his attention.
“You gave a good speech today, Master Meiger.”
He blushed and looked away from her. “Not as fancy as some, but I said what I knew to be true.”
“You said just the right thing, and these people believed you.”
“They’ve known me all my life.”
She wanted to say more, but words didn’t come to mind, and he looked uncomfortable at her praise. She thought of another topic to broach.
“The wizards haven’t called you into the bog?”
“No, they told us to wait here until they had the gateway constructed. Evidently it’s a rather complicated business, and it will take all three of them. That one wizard, Fenworth, he did that road all by himself. Amazing to watch.”
She nodded. “I’ll go in and see how close they are to finishing.”
“Should you?” asked Master Meiger. “I mean, interrupt them?”
“I won’t bother them.” Kale started toward the lane, but turned back. “Master Meiger, it might be a good idea to warn these people about mordakleeps. Remind them they have to cut off their tails to kill them.”
The old marione looked startled. “Yes. Yes, of course.”
She gestured to Regidor and Bardon. “I’m going into the bog. Want to come along?”
The two men exchanged glances. Regidor grinned. “Decided you didn’t want to run into any swamp creatures on your own, huh?”
She grinned back at him. “That’s right. Dar told me to use my brain.”
“We’ll come,” said Bardon. “I’m curious, too.”
They passed several groups of men and a few families before they set foot on the new path. The springy road looked like logs of various diameters woven together with sturdy vines. The minor dragons flew about them as they walked. A feast of bugs swarmed over the murky bog water.
“Where’s Gilda?” asked Kale.
“In my pocket,” answered Regidor.
Kale looked at the smooth lines of his clerical robe.
“It’s a hollow,” explained Regidor before she could ask. “How did you give Toopka the slip?”
“She was helping Cakkue and Yonny. She didn’t even seem particularly outraged that we didn’t plan to take her along.”
“That sounds suspicious.” Bardon laughed.
“I agree,” said Regidor.
Kale shook her head, half agreeing with her friends yet still believing her own eyes. “She was changing beds on the second floor when I left. Mistress Meiger finds Toopka just a bit unnerving because she’s not had any dealings with doneels. But Toopka is doing her best to impress her. I do wonder what’s going on in that furry little head of hers.”
“Well, she can be a good worker,” said Regidor, “but she’s also conniving and too curious for her own good.”
“And what would she say about you?” asked Kale.
Regidor laughed. “That I’m bossy and stubborn.”
Bardon slapped him on the shoulder. “She’d be right then.”
A ballyhoo bird cried out an objection to the invasion of its territory with a distinctive “ballyhoo, ballyhoo.” Kale craned her neck, trying to catch sight of the blue and white bird. The small, quick bird perched on a limb covered with cascading moss. Kale watched as it flitted from branch to branch.
Dry winter leaves rattled as they still clung to vines draped around the trees. With a deep breath, Kale recognized the same damp smells as in Bedderman’s Bog.
But here, no cygnot trees linked together to make planking. These trees stood far apart. Patchy, gray bark hung loosely on the trunks as if the trees were shedding an outer skin.
Maybe the winters are too harsh here for cygnot trees. I don’t think it snows as far south as The Bogs.
The lack of cygnot trees also meant no roots provided natural stepping blocks. Away from Wizard Fenworth’s floating road, the foot-deep water combined with a reedy vegetation. After they were finished with the lane and it was destroyed, the bog would be difficult to trudge through.
But now, Kale almost felt as though she were on an afternoon stroll. A breeze stirred the vines on the trees, and the afternoon sky above provided a blue canopy. The road beneath them creaked and swayed in an easy rhythm.
It all seems too comfortable to be the pathway to war.
“There’s the gateway.” Kale pointed at the three wizards, Librettowit, and Dar gathered at the end of the temporary road. “It looks as though they’ve finished.”
“No,” said Regidor, “the smaller one is complete, but the larger has one edge that needs to be more tightly woven. Why are there two gateways? I only heard of plans for one.”
Librettowit and Dar conversed solemnly while Fen and Cam sat on logs resembling roughly hewn chairs. Lyll paced in front of the unfinished gateway.
Afternoon shadows stretched long across the makeshift road. Remembering that they had recently been attacked by a peaceful pond, Kale shuddered and kept a wary eye on the dark splotches.
Dar greeted Kale and the others. “We’re just about to send Wizard Fenworth and Librettowit off to summon Brunstetter and Lee Ark. This will be one for the history books. If it works as planned, Librettowit and Fen will bring troops through the different gateways to this central one, which will take them all to the battle. Time is short.”
“And Paladin?” asked Kale.
“He may show up,” answered Dar.
“We can’t summon him?”
Dar shook his head. “Wulder will send him if he is needed. We’ve no authority over either Wulder or Paladin. We cannot command them to appear.” Dar’s expressive eyes brightened. “But we will not be abandoned by them, that I can assure you.”
“Are you coming?” Librettowit called to Fenworth. “I can do this myself if you’re too tired.”
“Tired? Harrumph! I only did a third of the work building these gates, and I could have done it all. Of course I’m not tired.”
Fenworth got to his feet stiffly. Mice, lizards, and bugs skittered out of his hair and beard. He took no notice of their departure, but smiled warmly at a large blackbird flying through the widely spaced trees. He landed on the bog wizard’s shoulder.
“There you are, Thorpendipity.” Fenworth lifted a shaky hand to stroke the bird’s glossy back. “I’d begun to think you’d taken up with some other wizard. I’ll be needing you. Glad you came.”
Fenworth strolled to the smaller of the two shimmering gateways and stepped through, still talking to the bird.
Librettowit addressed Cam and Lyll. “I’ll try
to keep him in the background, but you know there’s no bending that will of his once he’s decided to do a thing.”
Cam’s jaw clenched before he spoke. “We shall hope he doesn’t think of leading the forces on the battlefield.”
Lyll wrung her hands. “Try to convince him of the importance of gathering reinforcements. He’s too frail for the rigors of war.” She pressed her lips together and blinked rapidly.
Librettowit put his hand to his hat and tipped it slightly. “I’ll do my best, my lady.” He entered the gateway and disappeared in sparkling light.
Wizard Cam turned to the large, unfinished gate.
“What do you think, Lyll? Can we finish this off?”
“I think we need help.”
Cam and Lyll turned to look at Kale, Bardon, and Regidor.
“Come,” said Lyll, “we need you three apprentices.”
Regidor and Kale stepped forward quickly, but Bardon hung back.
“Excuse me, my lady, but I am not one of Fenworth’s apprentices.”
“Be that as it may,” said Cam, “come, my friend. You may observe.”
Kale’s head jerked around to see Bardon’s reaction. Wizard Cam had said almost the exact words Fenworth had once said when he wanted Bardon to take part in a wizardry lesson.
Bardon wore his inscrutable expression, and when she reached to his mind, he had a block up that should have had a sign reading, “Go away, Kale!”
She made a face at him, and of course he didn’t respond.
Lyll touched Kale’s arm. “Stand by me. Regidor, you go next to Cam, and Bardon, take the middle position.” She waited only a moment for them to follow her instructions. “Now, look at this wall on the right side. Do you see the threads that have not yet been woven together?”
Kale’s mouth dropped open as she nodded. Always before she had concentrated on the center of the gateway where the air seemed to ripple, distorting the image meeting her eye. Now she could see long, thick strands of almost transparent color dangling as if the edge of a huge cloth had frayed.
She felt Bardon’s excitement surge and knew he saw the threads. His reaction overtook his determination not to share this experience with her, and his guard fell.
“Now watch carefully, children, as Cam and I weave the loose cords. You can join in and help as soon as you see the pattern.”