DragonSpell (4 page)

“No,” said Dar. “I was sent to keep you from going to The Hall.”

         
5
         

N
EW
F
RIENDS
, N
EW
E
NEMIES

Kale stood in a panic. This little doneel was not what he seemed. Where could she run?

She’d been told where to go by the elders of the village. To Vendela. She
must
follow their instructions. Should she go to The Goose and The Gander and look for Maye? That was what Farmer Brigg had advised. Always before, she had only to listen to instructions and do what she was told. Nothing complicated ever came her way.

Maybe being a slave isn’t so bad. If I can just get to The Hall, I’ll be a servant. That’s enough like being a slave that all this adventure with grawligs and doneels, running from danger and battles, will just cease to exist.

She looked at Dar and his diminutive frame. His short legs would never keep up with her. She surveyed the forest and wondered which way to run.

A hailing cry came from the sky. Putting a hand at her brow to shield against the sun, Kale scrunched up her eyes and saw Merlander with her beautiful red wings swooping down. Again the dragon called with a round melodious tone. Dar waved a greeting. The whoosh of the last beat of Merlander’s wings ruffled Kale’s hair like a spring breeze. The dragon folded her wings against her sides.

A young woman riding the dragon’s back threw her leg over the arching blue neck and slid down glittering scales to the ground.

“I’m Leetu Bends,” she announced with a nod in Kale’s direction. Then she turned a scowl on the doneel. “Dar, what did you say to her?” And before he could answer, “What foolishness. How clumsy.”

Dar dipped his head, hiding his expression. His ears drooped.

“I’m sorry.” Leetu turned to Kale. “Dar teases, among other disreputable things. Think of him as an older brother who has no sense of decorum. Or no sense, period. Paladin has urgent need of your skill. That is why you must turn aside and leave going to The Hall until later.”

Kale stood rigid in her confusion. This was the commanding voice she had heard as the grawligs battled—the one who said they had come to rescue her. Kale looked back to the repentant doneel and then to the self-assured young emerlindian. She did wear the colors of The Hall. Her tunic was a mellow, golden tan of ripe wheat, and her breeches, the rich brown of the earth.

But how could Kale know for sure who Dar and Leetu were? What did they really want? Were they here to help or hinder her?

Leetu Bends came up only to Kale’s shoulder, yet she had a dominant presence. White-blond and blue-eyed in a slim frame, Leetu did not look a bit delicate, but rather tautly muscled, ready to spring into action. She was a young emerlindian. Chin, nose, eyebrows, and ears all slightly pointed, her beauty was sharp, drawn with clean lines.

Kale had heard stories of emerlindians. The race was born almost pure white. As they aged, their skin, hair, and eyes darkened. They lived a long time, hundreds of years. Wise brown grannies were both male and female and cherished by the younger generations. But even older than grannies were a few black grands, emerlindians who supposedly neared a thousand years in age. Generally thought to be noble, kind, and benevolent, the emerlindians possessed interesting mental powers.

Kale winced at the knowledge.
This Leetu Bends reads my thoughts. She knows I don’t trust her.

Kale cast her eyes down to the forest floor, concentrating on the leaves scattered at her feet.

Is it possible to block her reading my mind?

Leetu laughed. “Yes, it is. And it’s a technique I’ll teach you as part of your training. For now, you can’t throw up a barrier.”

Kale looked up. Merlander had settled, lying down at the edge of the clearing. Dar stood beside her neck, his head just coming to her glistening cheek. He leaned against her comfortably as if welcoming her back. Kale could feel the peace between them.

Leetu Bends had not moved. Her bright face, radiating warmth and friendliness, no longer held the stern and autocratic look she had given Dar when she first arrived. Kale wanted to like her.

Could she trust these two? The elders had told her to go to The Hall. Did she dare put aside Councilman Meiger’s instructions? Why would Dar want to keep her from going where she was supposed to go? Leetu said Paladin needed her skill. What skill? Kale let herself collapse in a rather undignified heap on the ground.

“I know it’s overwhelming,” said Leetu.

The emerlindian’s comment did little to ease Kale’s mental struggle. Since she’d left Farmer Brigg’s wagon, nothing had gone as she’d expected. Life was much simpler in River Away where Mistress Meiger told Kale whose house to go to, and the mistress of that home ordered her about all day.

Leetu came and sat beside her. “Try to relax. Let us take care of you. Dar’s a good cook…when he doesn’t get distracted and burn everything.”

The doneel jerked to attention, rushed back to the fire, and turned the fish.

Leetu grinned and returned to her quiet talk with Kale. Her low, reasonable voice soothed Kale’s anxiety. “You do need food. You’ve been relying on magic to sustain you, and it won’t, you know. Well, you wouldn’t know that yet, but you’ll learn. Your skill is in finding dragon eggs, and there is an egg that
must
be found.”

Leetu pulled a green parnot fruit from the pouch at her hip and handed it to Kale. “We’ll eat and talk,” she said. “You can ask as many questions as you like, and then we’ll start off on our quest.”

It sounded so rational, and yet it didn’t. Kale bit into the sweet fruit.

The elders had given her instructions to go to The Hall, but the elders were far away. Kale had enough experience to know that ignoring what you were told to do often led to trouble. She trusted the elders, for although they had never acted as parents to her, they had treated her fairly. They saw to it that she had food, something to wear, and schooling, such as it was. They allowed no villager to take advantage and work her too hard.

She was free now. Well, sort of. She still had to go where she’d been told to go, and when she got to The Hall, she would probably
still
have to do what she was told to do. But it was different somehow. Being a servant was better than being a slave. Wasn’t it?

Leetu Bends had said she could ask as many questions as she wanted. In River Away she had never been encouraged to ask questions. That much was different at least. But a problem remained. Would she know what questions to ask?

The small party ate without much conversation. Dar finished first and took out a foot-long metal harmonica. He settled against a tree trunk and began to play quiet tunes.

“Digestive music,” said Leetu. “Doneels believe strongly in the correct type of music to accompany each of their activities.”

Kale nodded and continued to eat the delectable fish. Pretending to concentrate on her meal gave her an opportunity to think over just what she wanted to know. After each thought, Kale examined Leetu’s face for some indication that the emerlindian knew what was going through Kale’s mind. Her stomach knotted. She put her dinner aside. Nothing inside her head made any sense.

I never had big things to think about in River Away. Is this what I really want? To be surrounded by people I don’t know, who might be friends or might be foes?

Her companions set to doing chores. With the few dishes washed and stashed in a canvas pack, Leetu and Dar sat down on either side of Kale. Her thoughts still jumbled every which way, but she couldn’t stall any longer.

“You must ask your questions,” said Leetu. She gestured with a graceful hand at the three gathered around the doused campfire. “We must be on our way.”

Kale looked to the dragon laden with bundles of supplies. “Where are we going?”

“First, to find Wizard Fenworth.”

Kale didn’t know one wizard from another. Weren’t there wizards enough at The Hall? “Why?” she asked.

“He has been chosen to take care of the dragon egg once you have found it.”

“How do you know I can find it?”

“You have the gift,” said Dar. “Didn’t you walk right to the egg you carry in the pouch? Didn’t you put your hand on it before you even knew why you were reaching?”

Kale’s hands clenched on the edge of her tunic. It wasn’t fair that they should know so much about her and be confident in all they did. She didn’t know anything. “How do you know about me?”

Leetu slapped her hands on her knees and shook her head. “Paladin knew. We can’t tell you how Paladin knows things. He just does.”

Kale blinked at Leetu’s agitation, but having been given permission to ask questions, she just couldn’t keep from asking another. “Why am I the one Paladin has chosen to go look for this egg?”

Leetu stood and paced. “Another question that we cannot answer. Once you have been in his service for a while, it will cease to amaze you that he knows so much.” Leetu looked away for a minute as if to summon up words to make it easier on Kale. She sighed her frustration and turned back to her listener. “Let me tell you about the egg, and why it is so important.”

Kale nodded.

“First, it is a meech egg.”

“Meech?”

Dar jumped in. “The highest order of dragon, the most powerful. A female meech may lay three eggs in her entire life span, over five hundred years. The eggs are rare.”

Leetu put up her hand to stop Dar’s lecture. “This egg was taken by Risto.”

“Who?”

Dar squirmed with his lips pressed firmly together as his eyes darted from Leetu’s face to Kale’s. He just couldn’t keep quiet and burst out with the information Kale needed. “An evil wizard! Risto’s an evil wizard.”

Leetu cut him off with a look. “Risto does not wish to hatch the egg, but to use the power of the egg to cast a grandiose spell.”

“Of course,” said Dar. His ears twitched, and he licked his lips as he stared at Kale. “His spells are evil.” The little doneel’s eyebrows came together in a fierce frown. “If he needs the power of a meech egg to get it done, there’s no telling what contemptible transgression he’s plotting.”

“You mean you don’t know what evil spell he’s going to cast? How can you be so sure it’s dangerous?”

Dar bounced to his feet, flinging his arms wide. “Because it’s Risto. He doesn’t do good things. He has all the evil traits that taint the seven high races. Pride, greed, deceit, faithlessness.” Dar sputtered in his outrage. “He’s cruel, power-mad, cunning—”

“He’s evil,” Leetu interrupted. “In the use of power from the unhatched egg, Risto will destroy the life within.”

“You see,” said Dar, stamping his foot for emphasis. “Evil! No respect for Wulder’s handiwork. Risto must be stopped, and Paladin sends us to do it.”

“With Fenworth,” Leetu reminded the doneel.

Dar screwed his face into a grimace of disgust. “Having that wizard along will lead to disaster.”

“Why?” asked Kale.

Leetu sent Dar a warning look before answering. “It’s best you wait and see, Kale.”

         
6
         

A D
OZEN
D
ELAYS

“Merlander can’t carry three passengers,” explained Leetu. “She’s too small.”

Kale watched as Dar and the emerlindian woman untied bundles from the dragon’s back.

“Dar,” asked Leetu with a frown on her face and a quick shake of her head, “did you bring your entire wardrobe?” She gestured to the piles of parcels at his feet. “We have miles to walk. You can’t carry all that, and neither I nor Kale will carry it for you. These things aren’t necessary.”

Dar bristled and muttered beneath his bushy mustache. “A person needs to look sharp, well groomed. We represent Paladin. Who knows who we’ll run into on an important quest? We may be called upon to negotiate with rulers of distant realms.”

“We’re going through forest and swamp. You don’t need fine clothes in brilliant colors fit for a ball. Pick out sensible clothes in greens and browns, if you have any.”

Leetu left the last canvas bag she’d removed from Merlander’s back and came to stand before the grumbling doneel. With her hands on her hips, she looked over his collection. “Two bags, that’s it. Two bags light enough for you to carry on your own.”

“We could stop at the next village and acquire a donkey,” suggested Dar.

“Two bags,” said Leetu.

Dar turned large, pleading brown eyes toward Kale. “Kale would carry a bag for me,” he said.

“Kale will have enough to carry. Quit this, Dar. Send the extra clothing back to The Hall with Merlander.”

With what sounded very much like a growl, the doneel conceded.

Now that Leetu had won her point, she sat down against a tree and exhibited an amazing amount of patience. She pulled out a book from her pocket and thumbed through the pages until she found a place to begin reading.

Dar fiercely sorted through his belongings, working to pack as much into two bags as he could. He fussed over the bits and pieces of clothing, even trying on a rich, green velvet coat, a silk shirt patterned in blue, and a crimson vest.

“Too bright,” said Leetu, barely glancing up from her book.

Dar sighed as he packed away the vest. He added a matching scarlet jacket, another vest, this one purple, and a green and gold pair of knickers. He muttered about people who did not appreciate the value of being properly attired and not having a mirror to help make important decisions.

Kale watched with amusement for a time. She had to admit the bright colors and fine fabrics attracted her, too. For a moment she allowed herself to hope, envisioning herself walking the marble corridors of The Hall, wearing flowing garments of brightly colored silks.

Eventually, she turned her mind to remembering the geography of Amara. The only map available in River Away belonged to Dame Blezig, the schoolmistress. It had been several years since Kale studied the yellowed parchment, but she recalled the two mountain ranges running north and south, islands off the coast, volcanoes in the southeast, and massive forests in the northeast and southwest. A place called The Bogs covered a large area in the southwest.

Her eyebrows shot up as she realized the only place where they could walk through both forests
and
swamps was in the southwest, nearly a thousand miles away.

We’re going to walk to The Bogs?

Leetu’s head jerked as she looked up from her book and stared at Kale.

“You very nearly shouted that at me,” she said and closed her book. “Seems I’d better pay more attention to you. You’ll need to be able to contain your thoughts before we enter Bedderman’s Bog.”

“Why? What’s in Bedderman’s Bog?”

“It’s best you wait and see, Kale.”

Kale didn’t like the vague answer this time any more than she had the last. What about the promise to answer all her questions? She would try once more to get a straight answer.

“Are we going to walk to The Bogs?” she asked, looking toward the doneel, hoping he would blurt out his thoughts. He seemed more willing to impart usable bits of information than Leetu.

Dar, fretting over his bundles, didn’t interject an answer.

“Yes, we’ll walk,” said Leetu. “But we’ll go through a gateway.”

Kale’s mouth dropped open. Gateways were part of fairy tales. Heroes escaped through gateways or sprang upon unsuspecting foes from gateways. Gateways went hand in hand with talking animals and magic amulets.

Gateways are real?

Kale closed her mouth and slowly shook her head from side to side. Councilman Meiger was right. She didn’t know anything.

“I’m ready,” announced Dar. He gave Merlander a pat on her neck, and the dragon rose to her feet. The doneel stepped back to avoid being struck by her wings. She lifted into the air with his extra packs lashed firmly to her saddle. Dar watched her climb high into the cloudless blue sky and set off toward Vendela. He turned a grumpy face to Leetu Bends and Kale.

The emerlindian sprang to her feet and hoisted a pack into the air. She pitched it to Kale, who caught it with a grunt. Without a word, Leetu grabbed two more bundles and swung them over her shoulder. She started down a path beside the stream. Kale scrambled to her feet just in time to follow Dar as he plodded down the trail.

They trekked on, the sun warming their backs, birds singing in the towering trees, and the brook babbling among the round rocks. Occasionally, the knotted roots of giant evergreens extended into the stream. Here the water frothed and churned through the bare, brown footing of the mighty trees.

Soon Dar began to hum and then sing softly under his breath. He’d regained his good humor. He sang louder, and his songs grew livelier as they marched along. Kale’s spirits responded to the happy tunes of the legendary heroes among the seven high races. Dar also sang of farmers and other ordinary folk caught in funny circumstances. She laughed and gasped at all the trials that could befall a traveler.

They rambled down the mountain, then across a valley, and started climbing again. Dar ran out of breath as the path grew steeper. They could no longer step lively to his cheerful beat. Kale, though used to working hard, was not accustomed to long treks. Her legs protested. She very much wanted to rest.

Dar stopped suddenly, and for a moment Kale thought she’d get her wish. But the doneel lifted his nose to the breeze and closed his eyes. Leetu stopped and turned.

“Grawligs,” she said, obviously reading his mind. “How far do you think?” She looked at Dar.

“Half a mile.”

“Which direction?”

Dar puzzled over that a moment, sniffing the air. “We’re surrounded.”

Kale thought she’d been too tired to go much farther, but now a shiver of fear energized her muscles. She was ready to run as soon as Leetu gave the order.

The emerlindian examined the trees and bushes surrounding the small clearing.

“We’ll make our stand here.”

Surely they should run. Kale opened her mouth to protest. Nothing but a croak came out.

Impatient, Leetu beckoned with a brusque gesture, and Kale hurried to the emerlindian’s side. Leetu threw her own burden into the bushes, then snatched Kale’s bundle from her back and hurled it into the undergrowth as well.

“Dar, you take the center of the clearing,” Leetu ordered. “Kale, climb this tree.”

Kale looked at the thick trunk of a towering evergreen. She’d seen several of these imposing trees on the trail she’d taken through mountain passes. None like it grew around River Away.

“This is a rock pine,” explained Leetu, again demonstrating she knew Kale’s thoughts. “Its name doesn’t come from growing in rocks. Those prickly pine cones are as heavy as stones. Climb as high as you can. Take off your tunic and wrap it around your throwing hand. When the grawligs attack, start pelting them with the rock cones. Hit anything you can, but aim for the grawligs’ ears. They’re tender.”

Leetu made a boosting step with interlaced fingers. Kale put her foot into Leetu’s hands and felt herself thrust into the air. She grabbed the lowest branch and clambered up the tree. The grunts and coarse mutterings of the approaching grawligs inspired extra speed.

Once perched on a high branch, she could see dark forms advancing from all sides, completely encircling them.

“How many?” asked Leetu from below.

Kale scanned the area. “Twelve.”

“That shouldn’t delay us too long,” said Dar.

Branches in a tree next to Kale swayed. She made out the slender form of Leetu as she climbed to a branch thirty feet above the ground. Below, Dar stood in the center of the clearing with his ears perked, listening to the approach of the marauding mountain ogres. Kale wanted to shout, “Climb a tree!”

“He’ll be all right.”
Leetu’s calm voice reassured her. “
Just watch. He’ll throw up a magic shell and fight from beneath.”

At that moment four grawligs crashed through a line of brushwood and entered the clearing.

Dar hunched over, and a shimmering shell appeared over his body. It hovered above him like an inverted glass bowl. Kale could see the doneel’s movements within. Two daggers flashed in his hands.

The grawligs gave a roar and charged. They beat on the shell and tried to pry it up. Dar’s hands whipped out from the lower rim. His daggers slashed and poked at the grawligs’ toes as well as their fingers when they gripped the edge of his protective armor. The grawligs hopped around amid yips and howls but didn’t give up. As one fell back to suck on his injured fingers, another took his place.

“Now!”
cried Leetu’s voice in Kale’s mind, startling her so that she almost lost her grip on the branch. More of the mountain ogres poured into the clearing. Their massive legs tore through the thick underbrush. They bellowed a war cry, and Kale clutched the tree trunk, thinking the horrendous shouting would shake her out of the tree.

Dar disappeared in the middle of a dozen raving grawligs. Arrows from the emerlindian’s bow rained down upon the ogres’ heads.

I can’t just sit here. I’m supposed to help.

Kale wiggled out of her tunic and wrapped it hastily around her right hand. She grabbed a pine cone and had to twist at the woody, seed-bearing orb to make it come loose. Even with her hand protected, she felt the pricks of the barbs. She hurled the rock-heavy cone down wildly and managed to hit one of the grawligs on his hairy back. The cone clung to the matted hair.

Over the next few minutes, her aim improved as did her ability to twist the cones in just the right way to pull them off the bushy, needle-laden branches. She climbed to different limbs several times in order to reach more clusters of the spiny weapons.

Kale began to see the advantage of Leetu’s strategy. While Dar, in the relative safety of his shell, inflicted grievous wounds on the ogres, Leetu peppered them from above with arrow after arrow.

The rock-hard pine cones Kale threw bruised the ogres but did not impede their attack. Nonetheless, the cones stuck, and Kale saw that was a good thing. Most of the hairy grawligs carried the extra weight of ten to twenty rock cones. She thought the beasts were incredibly stupid. Their focus remained riveted on the doneel they thought they had trapped on the ground.

Eventually, the assault from above bothered some of the grawligs enough that they stopped to gawk at the trees. Leetu took advantage of the upturned faces. Her skillful aim sent several grawligs howling into the woods, pulling at arrows embedded in their flesh.

Kale marveled over each direct hit on a grawlig’s ear. They reacted with shrieks of anger and pain. Often the wounded ogre left the foray with a massive hand covering the side of its head. All the grawligs were limping painfully from the wounds inflicted to their feet by the doneel.

She redoubled her efforts to make a bull’s-eye, then laughed to herself and corrected the phrase. She wanted to hit a grawlig’s ear, not a bull’s eye.

The skirmish was soon over.

Dar was right. They’re leaving! And none too soon. My arm aches from throwing all those heavy cones. I must have thrown a couple hundred. And my hands feel like I’ve been squeezing pincushions.

She reached inside her shirt and pulled out the red pouch to cradle between her palms.