DragonSpell (13 page)

Kale started to object, then swallowed the words that came to her mouth. Dar was right. For this one time, she had to lead.

“This is my destiny,” she whispered.

“This is only the beginning, and we’re going to miss it if you keep lally-gagging. Come on.”

They marched through the field until they came to a road.

“Which way?” asked Dar.

Kale clearly felt the wounded dragon’s misery and nodded toward Celisse.

Several miles later, the morning mist had still not burned off. Kale took hold of Dar’s sleeve and slowed to a stop.

“We’re close, Dar,” she whispered, “but there are other creatures here.”

“Animals? A barn should mean there are animals around.”

“These aren’t farm animals.”

“Then protect yourself before you reach into their minds.”

“What?” Kale’s fingers dug into Dar’s arm. “Reach into their minds? No.”

“Would you rather walk into a trap?”

Kale was silent.

Dar put a hand on her arm. “Do you remember the words Granny Noon told you?”

She nodded.

“Say them.”

“I stand under Wulder’s authority.”

“Go ahead then,” Dar urged her.

Kale sank to her knees and concentrated. She felt a malevolent force batter her mind, but she repeated the words,
I stand under Wulder’s authority.

“Four,” she told Dar. “Bisonbeck men. They are to guard the dragon and not let her escape.” Kale gasped. “Oh Dar, they shoot her. Twice a day, they shoot her with a poison arrow. They come in with a big, ugly crossbow and shoot her while she’s still helpless from the last arrow. It keeps her docile. Wizard Risto is coming to enslave her with his magic. Tonight. He’ll be there tonight.”

Kale then turned her mind to Celisse, deliberately allowing herself to touch the dragon’s feelings. She recoiled from the encounter. “Oh, Dar. She’s so sick she can hardly move. I’m glad we came to rescue her.”

“Concentrate on the bisonbecks, Kale,” Dar ordered. “Do you know where they are standing guard?”

Kale nodded, her eyes still closed. “One in front, one in back. The other two are sitting by a burned building, a house.”

She opened her eyes to watch Dar as he thought. His serious expression told her he was plotting out what they would do. His mustache twitched. His ears lay back flat against the top of his head, almost disappearing in his mane of hair. She waited patiently.

After a while he nodded, rubbed his hands together, and then turned to look into her face.

“You will sneak into the barn.”

Kale felt her eyebrows rise. A lump formed in her throat.

Dar patted her shoulder. “You’ll be fine. Whenever you get scared just stop and be still. The cape will hide you.”

She allowed her head to bob up and down slowly in agreement, but she couldn’t work up any enthusiasm for his plan.

Dar continued. “Once you’re inside the barn, you and Gymn will heal her.”

“You mean Gymn will heal her.”

“No, I mean you and Gymn.” He let out an exasperated sigh. “Gymn is small and young. Celisse is big and wounded…and poisoned. With your talent, you will magnify Gymn’s gift and be a part of the circle that heals Celisse.”

“Oh.” Kale wanted to ask a dozen questions, but she feared she wouldn’t understand the answers. Maybe she would understand better after she’d been in the barn, been part of the healing, and escaped with Celisse and Gymn.

At the beginning of their journey into Bedderman’s Bog, while she had listened to Leetu explain a hundred different things, she had found all of it together boggled her mind. But at the same time, her simple o’rant mind accepted small things easily if she ignored the overwhelming bulk of ideas. Then as she understood the small things, the larger things began to make sense. As an o’rant slave in a marione village, she had never felt her mind was very useful. Now she began to wonder if her mind was just different, not inferior.

Dar continued explaining his plan. “After you have told Celisse what we’re going to do, mindspeak to me that you’re ready. I’ll create a distraction, you open the barn door, and you and the dragons fly out. Simple.”

“Simple,” Kale repeated, a squeak breaking the word in two.

Dar clapped her on the shoulder like he would a comrade-in-arms.

“Nothing to it.”

“Nothing to it,” repeated Kale, and this time the words barely rasped out of her throat.

“Fine, then. Let’s go,” said Dar. “We want to do this before the sun burns off the mist.”

Kale looked at him with wide eyes. She didn’t
want
to do this before or after the sun burned off the mist.

         
18
         

T
HE
D
RAGON’S
L
AIR

They may not see me in this cape, but they for sure will hear my heart thumping.

Fog obscured everything beyond two feet in front of Kale’s nose. She didn’t feel invisible and therefore safe. She felt as if someone could sneak up on her out of the hazy surroundings.

Tall, sun-bleached stalks clustered behind her in a field where the corn had been stripped from the plants and the poles left to wither and die. Her head jerked every time she heard a faint rustling in the dried leaves. In the eerie half-light, Kale could not see how far the old cornfield stretched out behind her in acres and acres of cold soil. She knew the dead corn went on for miles. She’d walked around this field, petrified ever since she left Dar’s side. There might not be one living creature hidden among the dry stalks, or there could be thousands. Kale shivered.

Dar had not let her come through the field. He said the noise she’d make as her footsteps crackled on the old foliage would give her away. That started her thinking about who, or what, was out there to hear. While she circled the farmer’s harvested land, she took care every step of the way to make no noise. She’d listened for evil beings prowling around the countryside, looking for easy prey.

Looking for someone like me. Easy prey. That’s what I am. Gullible, too. I shouldn’t have let that crazy doneel talk me into this.

Surprised that she’d made it this far, Kale wasn’t about to let herself get caught now. She knew the barn was close, because from where she stood, she knew exactly where the riding dragon was. She hesitated at the edge of the barnyard, close to the dragon, but also just as close to the four guards.

Kale cocked her head and listened, holding her breath. Her ears strained to pick out a sound, hopefully a normal sound. Did she just hear a whisper in the field? She waited. Nothing. Pent-up breath eased out between her teeth.

Inside his pocket-den, Gymn wiggled.

You just be patient. I’m not ready to step into the open.

The moonbeam cape covered her from neck to toes. She pulled the hood up and let the filmy material drop in front of her face. Blinking, she discovered she could see more clearly through the light fabric.

I should have worn the hood all along. Why didn’t someone tell me the moonbeam cloth would make me see better? Dar or Leetu? Or Granny Noon? They probably forgot how little I know.

She moved her head slowly, looking at every feature of the open space. Cornstalks stood as if looking over her shoulder. A rutted road ran past her into the shrouded horizon.

With trembling fingers, she fastened all the buttons on her moonbeam cape.

I hope I really am invisible.

Two long slits enabled her to reach through the sides of the cape, but she didn’t want her arms exposed. She pulled them inside and wrapped them around her middle, trying to hold the butterflies in her stomach still.

Gymn wiggled again.

I’m not asking your opinion, Gymn. Your job is to be quiet and stay out of the way until it is time to heal Celisse. My job is to help Celisse escape.

Kale rubbed her hands together. The cold came from her fear within, not the damp air without. She would have to be brave.

Her foot responded sluggishly as she tried to take a step. She was
so
close. The barn, hidden under a blanket of moist air, housed Celisse. Kale felt the dragon waiting for her. Two bisonbeck men dozed by a smoldering fire. She smelled fresh smoke as well as an acrid odor rising from the burnt timbers of the house and charred furniture.

One man paced behind the barn, pivoting with military precision as he reached the vacant pigsty and striding back to the empty corncrib where he turned again. Kale knew his thoughts were on battle. He resented guarding a barn. The other guard stood stock-still and thought of food—lots of food…and rich wine and sweet mead…and a certain barmaid.

Kale hoped he concentrated on that maid’s green eyes and smiling lips and didn’t notice one o’rant girl creeping up to the barn.

As she tiptoed into the farmyard, Kale peered into the grounded cloud and finally saw a dark building loom in the mist. She moved silently, following a railed fence. The barn stood gray and battered, its huge front doors closed. Two openings into the hayloft gaped as square black holes. To Kale, they looked like sinister eyes watching her movements.

The front peak of the roof displayed a weather vane tilted at an awkward angle as if it had received a blow. The roof curved down on both sides to about six feet from the dirt, then went off in straight lines to stop abruptly over ramshackle side walls. Here, a normal-sized door offered Kale an entry into the dragon’s prison.

Gratefully, she saw that the heavy wooden doors that allowed wagons and animals entrance to the barn swung outward. The metal brackets that would have held the bar to bolt the door were empty.

These bisonbecks must be pretty confident their prisoner is too sick to break out.

Kale could see the man guarding the front. His massive dark shape leaned against a wagon some distance across the barnyard. He shifted. She heard armor grate, hard leather creak, and boots shuffle in the dirt. His head remained still, his eyes facing front. Kale inched to the edge of the barn. Only three more feet and she would be at the smaller door.

I hope it isn’t locked.

I hope the hinges are oiled.

I hope the guard doesn’t see me.

She sighed.

I hope I don’t die of fright.

She put a foot forward. The guard suddenly stood at attention. Kale lost her nerve. She froze. She felt Gymn stiffen in her pocket.

The warrior flexed his shoulder muscles, bent his head to one side until his ear almost touched his metal armor. He straightened his neck and tipped his head the other direction. Then he marched in place for a minute, lifting his knees high. At no time did his attention leave the barn.

This isn’t going to work. He doesn’t see me now, but when I move to the door, he will. I need Dar to create a distraction. But if he raises a ruckus now, then he’ll have to do it again later. And it might not work a second time, and that’s when Celisse and I will be ready to come out of the barn.

Kale watched the guard as he returned to his casual stance, still conscientiously observing the old wooden structure.

Suppose I mindspeak to that guard and tell him to go somewhere. No. Why would he follow my orders? Maybe I could make him think it’s his idea. Oh, I don’t know what to do.

She went over the mind exercises Leetu had drilled into her head.

A picture! I’ll create a picture of something crawling on the other side of the wagon. And a sound! He’ll go look.

Kale imagined a man, a young, strong marione man. As she filled in the details, she realized she was picturing Bolley, one of the best fighters in River Away. When satisfied with the vividness of her image, she projected it to the guard’s mind and, at the same time, imagined the sound of a rock scraping against metal. Only the soldier would hear the created sound.

Kale nearly bounced with delight when the guard crouched. He lifted his battle-ax to a ready position and stealthily crept to the end of the wagon, looked, and then moved around the corner beyond Kale’s vision. She scooted to the door and pushed with her shoulder. The door opened with only a slight protest of rusty hinges. She bolted into the barn and eased the door shut.

The dragon inside crowded the open space between the walls lined with stalls. Her tremendous bulk blocked everything on the other side of the barn. As far as Kale could tell in the gloomy light, the dragon was black and gray with no glistening streaks of vibrant colors like Merlander.

Celisse greeted Kale with a mellow call like a mourning dove’s coo. The dragon’s memories washed over Kale. She tried to comprehend the fast flow of information. Sorrow and rage pulsed in the dragon’s account of the tale.

The people of the house were all dead. Celisse grieved the loss of her “family,” and Kale’s tender heart ached with the dragon’s.

A detachment of soldiers had burned the house. Rough bisonbeck men carried off all the farmer’s crops. Ropmas, another of Pretender’s low races, had driven off the farmer’s livestock to feed Wizard Risto’s people.

Celisse’s torment tangled the account of her defeat into a disordered mess. Now Kale saw images of a battle in the farmyard. Celisse had returned from a trip to town with the farmer and his oldest son on her back. They’d swept into the yard and fought the squad of soldiers left behind to complete the pillaging and torch the farmhouse. The farmer and his son were no match for the ruthless warriors. Soon only Celisse raged against them. She eventually sought refuge in the barn and struck out at those who tried to enter.

Evidently, messages had been sent to the main body of the army. Risto’s men did nothing to keep their plans secret, and Celisse’s keen hearing picked up many conversations. A crossbow marksman had arrived with special arrows. The man had no trouble shooting the cornered dragon with a poison that kept her mind fogged, her body in agony, and her will to live sapped.

Celisse knew Risto himself was coming to claim her for his own fleet of dragons. Her resistance dwindled with each poisoned arrow. Every time she felt her strength returning, the soldiers reopened the barn doors, and the marksman stepped into view, firing another arrow into her flesh.

This had started several days before. Wounded and hungry, Celisse didn’t think she’d last much longer. But with the arrival of Kale, her will revived. If she lived, Celisse wanted to join allegiance with the mighty Dragon Keeper.

Now the dragon’s hope soared and invaded Kale as the o’rant touched Celisse’s thoughts. Kale trembled as she tried to sort through the dragon’s turmoil.

In addition to the emotions transferred from the dragon, Kale’s heart responded to the story of Risto’s callous destruction of the honest farmer and his family. She had to deal with her own feelings of disgust and anger. She understood Celisse’s desire to join forces with those who opposed Risto’s evil. She, too, felt an outrage against his crimes.

However, one aspect of Celisse’s determination to seek revenge puzzled Kale. The o’rant girl had never heard of the “mighty Dragon Keeper” and could only guess his identity.

Paladin?
she quizzed the dragon.

The dragon’s thought pattern rippled with laughter.
“You are the mighty Dragon Keeper.”

Kale’s mouth dropped open, and she closed it with a snap.

“That’s ridiculous. I haven’t even been to The Hall yet.” She spoke sternly to Celisse and moved closer. In the murky gray light, she could see an odd spiny growth on Celisse’s back, over the left wing, and behind a shoulder blade. She studied it for a moment and then let out a horrified gasp.

The poisoned arrows! Long barbs stuck out of swollen flesh like pins in a cushion. Kale’s stomach turned just the way it had when she had to pull a fishhook out of little Dubby Brummer’s thumb.

This would be worse, much worse.