DragonFire (3 page)

         
3
         

U
NEXPECTED
H
ELP

On purpose, Sir Bardon and Lady Kale rode right past the burned bower that camouflaged the entrance to Granny Noon’s underground home. They needed to find her quickly, but not at the expense of exposing her dwelling place. The fire had stripped the mountainside of the foliage that would have hidden their entry into the burrow from prying eyes. Filia and Dibl, acting as scouts, guided them to a deep ravine left unscathed by the forest fire.

Kale felt as though she’d been in the saddle for weeks instead of five days. Her soreness and fatigue passed to Bardon through their special bond, and she in turn received an impression of his attitude. His sense of urgency to find Regidor was every bit as keen as hers. He stewed over the inconvenience of being restricted to the ground instead of soaring above the hazardous landscape. In his thoughts, he expressed his frustration by calling the beast under him all manner of derogatory names.

His head turned her way when he became aware that his wife found his tirade amusing. She smiled smugly at Bardon’s chagrin and couldn’t suppress a bubble of mirth. It tickled her each time he realized that she coped with discomfort with less internal griping than he did.

And she always knew what he was thinking. That was one of the beauties of their strong connection. Many times she didn’t have to explain her viewpoint. And his unique way of looking at things popped into her head just before she was about to express total bewilderment over his actions. Her husband outshone her in so many areas, but she was the better rider when it came to horses.

The self-satisfied smirk on her face melted into a warm glow when he winked at her and she heard his next thought. He would never expect her to call an animal a string of unflattering names.

“You are so definitely a lady.”

She blushed and then heard his inward laugh. It settled within her, padding the fierce love she felt for him with a comforting amiability.

Shaking her head, she gestured toward the untouched strip of vegetation. “What happened here?”

“The fire jumped the gorge.”

“Is it safe to leave the horses?”

“If you can convince one of the woodland creatures to stand guard and come get us if there’s trouble.”

She turned her mind to exploring the life around her. The area was sparsely populated. And of those animals she found, not many possessed the intelligence to do her bidding. They’d be willing but would get distracted too easily.

A presence lurked at the edge of her consciousness. She stilled and concentrated. A wolf! The minor dragons caught her delight and chittered.

Hush!
she told them.
Don’t scare him away.

Cautiously, she approached him with her thoughts.

“Will he help?
” asked Bardon.

Shh! I don’t mind your eavesdropping, but he might. He’s nervous.

She closed her eyes and got an impression of the wolf’s surroundings. He lay in the bushes close enough to observe the strangers in his territory.

Would this animal be helpful? Did he know her friend? Kale sent one thought.
Granny Noon?

No response. So he didn’t know her by name. Kale tried again, forming an image of the emerlindian in her mind. The old woman’s skin was as dark as coal, her eyes deep brown, and her straight black hair hung almost to the floor. Small and wiry, Granny Noon looked as if she were made only of bone and muscle. But Kale knew from experience that the wise woman had a comforting embrace, gentle and soothing. Granny Noon’s image filled Kale with peace, and she was not surprised when the wolf echoed her reaction.

Aha!
The wolf socialized with the emerlindian granny. She called him Brite.

Is she all right? Where is she?

Kale breathed a sigh of relief at his answer.

“She’s in her home,” she said aloud. The communication from the wolf could not be interpreted by Bardon without her assistance. “The fire did little damage below. It moved swiftly over the ground.”

Kale returned her attention to the wolf. After a moment, she expressed her gratitude and dismounted. “Brite says he’ll watch over the horses while they’re hidden here.”

She and Bardon took the horses into the ravine, then unsaddled, tethered, watered, and fed them. The rich greens in the shade of the crevasse not only gave relief to their eyes after the stark mountainside but also filled their nostrils with a pleasant fragrance. Here the horses would remain hidden from unwanted notice. Kale and Bardon would hike back to the entrance of Granny’s home.

Satisfied the horses were safe and comfortable, they climbed again to the ridge. To the best of her ability, Kale determined no one was spying on them. The surrounding mountainside seemed to be deserted of high and low races. Her talent did not reach to the forests covering the other slopes.

The sun beat down on the open area, highlighting the black expanse. She and Bardon must stand out like huge, colorful blotches on the dark backdrop.

“Is the area safe?” asked Bardon. “You’re uneasy.”

Kale scanned the surrounding area, hoping she could see with her eyes any danger that her inner sense did not pick up.

“I’m afraid I’ll make an error in judgment and bring evil to Granny Noon’s home. Before this fire, the entire forest camouflaged her front door.”

“What we need is a farsighted bird of prey.”

“Exactly!” Kale scanned the skies with enthusiasm, then wrinkled her brow.

“The fire killed or drove off many of the small animals,” Bardon explained. “The large birds followed them.” He glanced over the sooty skeletons of trees. “And there’s precious little roosting around here.”

Her shoulders drooped.

Bardon turned back to the protected ravine. “We’ll wait until dark.”

The horses nickered nervously.

“One moment, Bardon.” Kale lowered her voice. “The wolf is coming out.”

Bardon came back to stand at her side.

The black nose on a silky tan muzzle poked through the undergrowth. Kale and Bardon breathed softly and did not move. The wolf’s golden eyes peered at them, then he retreated into the bush and moved away.

“Oh, marvelous creature! Thank you.” She started after him. “He’s going to show us a back way into the burrow. No one will see us.”

They followed but at a distance. Brite still didn’t care for their company.

The ravine deepened. The wolf trotted ahead and remained out of sight. Kale trailed him by her sense of his being, knowing his direction without seeing him. Bardon, in tune with his wife’s instincts, kept pace. A mountain spring appeared, and the gorge changed directions, cutting back down the mountain. The wolf quickened his speed.

Bardon helped Kale over crumbling rock terrain. “Not afraid of leaving us behind, is he?”

“He’s hurrying to see Granny Noon. He’s almost forgotten about us.”

They scrambled to catch up.

Kale squeezed Bardon’s arm. “She’s there! He’s seen her.”

They pushed through the last thicket and saw the slight emerlindian stooped over a huge wolf, stroking his head and neck.

Startled, Kale realized Brite had suffered burns in the recent fire. His legs and underbelly displayed patches of pink, scarred skin. Singed fur and bare hide covered one flank.

The wounds had healed much more than one would expect. As Kale watched the wolf and the emerlindian interact, she knew Granny Noon must have found Brite on her doorstep and nursed him back to health.

The wolf pressed his head into the granny’s hand, bouncing on his feet and knocking against her legs.

“Easy, Brite.” Granny Noon giggled. “You’ll push me over.” She looked up and gestured to Kale and Bardon. “Come, I’ve been expecting you.”

Brite backed away and sat on his haunches. With his tongue lolling out, his expressive face looked happy.

Kale ran into Granny Noon’s embrace. “Oh my! You are so tiny.” Kale laughed. “I’d forgotten. Librettowit says emerlindians come in one width and two heights, always lean, but either five feet high or over six.”

Granny Noon’s arms tightened around Kale. “The librarian is right as usual. And I prefer to be shorter. My life in my lovely underground burrows would be complicated by a stretched-out frame.”

Her attention returned to the wolf. She gazed into his eyes for a moment, and then Brite bounded off the way they had come.

“He’ll go now to guard your horses,” she said and leaned back to get a better look at Kale. “You have grown, girl. When I first met you, you were a mere child. Now you’re a woman and married. Seven years? Yes, seven years since you first came to my door.” She patted Kale’s arm.

The seriousness of their mission descended upon Kale. “Granny Noon, we must find Regidor and Gilda.”

The old woman smiled serenely. “Surely finding a meech dragon and his lady should not be so hard. Although Regidor dresses to minimize his more startling features, he does tend to make a stir wherever he goes.”

“And he usually keeps in touch with us,” Kale said. “He drops in to visit. He sends messages. Gifts are delivered from all over the country. Librettowit receives rare books Regidor has stumbled across in his research. But we haven’t heard a thing from him in six weeks.”

Granny Noon tugged Kale gently toward the opening of her abode. “Coming, Bardon?”

“Yes.”

Kale continued, worry lacing her tone, “The last time I saw Gilda she was lethargic and a mere shade of her former self. I feared she would expire before too long. But we’ve found the cure, Granny Noon. And now we can’t find her!”

They passed through earthen tunnels with steps made out of roots, lit by blue lightrocks in lanterns attached to the wall.

“I would think,” said Granny Noon in a deep, soothing voice, “that Regidor would choose to spend the last days with his beloved somewhere safe and secluded.”

“Yes, but where?”

Granny Noon pushed the door to her rooms open. “Perhaps here.”

         
4
         

T
EA
, D
AGGARTS, AND A
M
IRACLE

Kale ran into the room. It hadn’t changed much since her last visit. Earthen walls, wood furniture, colorful cushions, bright rugs, smells promising sweet treats, candles, books strewn around, and Regidor unfolding his long form from a two-seater sofa. Of course, Regidor had not been there before.

As familiar as she was with his appearance, the elegance of her former protégé never ceased to amaze her. At first glance he looked like a tall o’rant, but his leathery skin held a green cast, and he had no hair and no outer ears. His squarish nose was long, and his mouth was thin-lipped and wide. His smile looked either beguiling or sinister, depending on how comfortable one felt with this rare species of dragon. Kale’s heart filled with pride and love.

She hurled herself across the room and dove into his embrace. Her head rested against his broad chest. His arms encircled her and squeezed gently.

Bardon spoke from the doorway. “I’d tease you about manhandling my wife, but we really have come on urgent business.”

Kale pulled back from Regidor and looked frantically around the room.

“Where is she? Where’s Gilda?”

“In her bottle.” Regidor’s voice rumbled in his throat. “She hasn’t come out yet today.”

Kale reached into the hollow of her cape, a small portal to another dimension that she used for storage. She pulled out an ancient book.

She heard Regidor’s sharp intake of breath and saw the arrested look on his face.

He let out a question on a hiss of air. “Is that Sho?”

She nodded and extended her hand, offering the book as if it were the key to all wisdom. “Librettowit found this. It’s the original, third century, recorded in Sho’s own hand.” Her hope swelled, bringing tears to her eyes. “I’ve experimented, and we can do it, Regidor. We can save Gilda.”

Regidor did not take the book. Kale pulled it back, resting the heavy tome against her waist as she opened it to a place marked by a purple ribbon. With force, she thrust it into Regidor’s hands.

He frowned at her before allowing his eyes to examine the book. The meech dragon scanned down the page. His expression changed. “Cohesion!”

He called out the word Kale had finally latched upon after hours of study. Kale grinned, not at all surprised that her friend recognized the significance in a fraction of the time.

His hairless brow furrowed as he concentrated, and he mumbled as he read. “Yes!” He tapped the page with a clawlike fingernail. “Why didn’t I see this before? It makes perfect sense.” A growl emanated from his throat. “Wasted time. So simple.”

Kale bounced on her toes.
It’s going to work. If Regidor thinks it will work, it will. Librettowit and I were right. Gilda doesn’t have to die.

Regidor placed the open book on a plain wooden table. He crossed the room to a bookshelf and retrieved a blue glass bottle inlaid with an intricate silver design. He held it to his chest for a moment, his expression shuttered, then brought it to Kale.

His green eyes twinkled as he removed a cork from the top. “My dear Dragon Keeper, I don’t believe I’ve introduced you to my wife.”

Kale blinked at the unexpected announcement and then grinned. A thin stream of vapor rose from the small opening and floated to the floor. The column retained its misty quality for a moment and gradually began to define the form of a tall female dragon who matched Regidor in exotic magnificence.

Still watching Gilda emerge from the cloud, Kale reached for her husband’s hand. He came to her side.

Bardon, do you see how long her transformation takes? When Risto first cast this spell upon her, she shifted back and forth without any apparent effort.

“She’s tired.”

She’s almost dead.

“We’re in time, Kale. Don’t despair.”

Why did she have to suffer so? And for so long?

He brought her hand up and placed his other hand over her tense fingers.
“Risto held her in his palm, and when she decided to switch her allegiance to Regidor, he wanted to punish her. Nothing he could do would destroy her love for our meech friend, but Risto determined she would not enjoy that love. Of course, he underestimated both Regidor and Gilda.”

Why didn’t Paladin intervene? The only two meech dragons in Amara, and they couldn’t live normal lives.

“You know the answer to that.”

I do?

“Wulder had a plan.”

Another voice entered Kale’s mind. Gilda’s deep, almost sultry tones whispered in her consciousness.
“I’m listening, Kale. Or did you think I would politely refrain from eavesdropping?”

Kale growled in her throat, a very tolerable imitation of Regidor’s choice means of displaying his displeasure.
Gilda, I would never expect you to comply with rules of etiquette, if by doing so, you would be excluded from any information.
She tried to sober her expression and failed. Her smile grew larger instead.

The translucent appearance of the female dragon’s face held a mocking air.
“Ha! Compared to Regidor and Librettowit, you read nothing heavier than
Tales of the Times.”

A court gossip sheet!
Kale took a step forward, arms lifting, and stopped. She sighed. “I would love to hug you.”

Sadness fell on her friend’s demeanor. Gilda tilted her strange and exotic face and looked at Kale through thoughtful eyes. “And that embrace is impossible in my present state.”

Kale’s throat tightened, and tears pushed at the back of her eyes. What if the information they’d found didn’t work after all?

I mustn’t think like that.
She gestured toward Regidor, who had moved to stand close to his wife. “You married Regidor? How imprudent. He must be a beast to live with.”

Gilda brightened. “Indeed. Paladin himself performed the ceremony.” She set her eyes upon her husband. “It was a simple affair. I wore a cloud. Regidor wore white court dress with silver and gold trim.”

Bardon choked on a laugh. “Simple? Silver and gold?”

Regidor nodded and allowed a small smile to part his lips. “With a touch of amethyst. Gilda’s cloud varied from elegantly understated cirrus to vibrant sunset hues.”

“Oh, you’re jesting.” Kale looked from one to the other. “Surely you can’t be serious?”

Bardon cleared his throat. “That was cirrus, as in wispy and ethereal. Not serious, at all.”

Regidor groaned. “Perhaps you shouldn’t have developed a sense of humor, Sir Bardon. It doesn’t wear well on you.”

Gilda perched on the edge of the table where Regidor had set her bottle. “I tire easily, dear friends. Why have you come? To pay your last respects?” Despite the gravity of her questions, her beautiful features flashed with a slight mischievous sparkle.

A nervous chill ran through Kale. She looked from Regidor to Bardon, then to Granny Noon. The old emerlindian offered her a tilted smile. “Don’t doubt your good news now. You may tell her, Kale.”

She took a deep breath and released it. She almost preferred to continue the pointless banter. Before she saw Gilda, she was confident of the cure. But now…

The expectant look on Gilda’s face pierced Kale’s heart. She had to speak. “We think we have found the process that will reverse the effects of Risto’s spell.”

Gilda spun around to Regidor. “Now?”

He inclined his head. “If you are ready.”

“What do I have to do?”

“Go back into your bottle one last time. When I call you out, you will form into the solid composition Wulder originally created.”

Gilda asked no more questions. The mist that imaged her body thinned and swirled upward, then poured into the blue bottle.

Kale and Regidor moved to the table, standing opposite each other. Gymn came to perch on Kale’s shoulder while the other minor dragons settled on Granny Noon, Bardon, and Kale. Granny Noon stood behind Regidor and placed a hand on his shoulder. Bardon stood close to his wife and encircled her waist with his arms. Regidor looked into Kale’s eyes, and she nodded.

“Wulder, guide us,” whispered the meech.

Without discussing the matter, Regidor took the lead and Kale gladly followed. He formed images in his mind of the smallest particles in Gilda’s system. With malformed properties, these elements whirled out of synchronization with the others. Fragments repelled each other. Slowly, Regidor realigned the configurations. Upon occasion he isolated a unit and totally annihilated the foreign substance.

Kale assisted by keeping the images sharp. Her cooperative efforts allowed Regidor to concentrate on minute parts, while Kale sustained a larger picture. The others provided a flow of energy. With Gymn’s presence in the circle, the healing aspect of the procedure progressed swiftly. Filia delved into Regidor’s deepest memories and pulled out any information that would aid him in his task.

Finally, Regidor scanned through the work he had done and tweaked a few minor segments. One last sweep through the whole process, and the meech dragon was satisfied with the natural cohesion reestablished in Gilda’s composition. He pulled his thoughts back from the others.

They broke connection, both mentally and physically, stepping back from the table and exhaling.

Granny Noon sank onto a stool and clasped her hands in her lap. All eyes focused on the blue bottle.

Regidor cleared his throat. “Come out, my love.”

The moment stretched. Kale fought back a surge of panic.

Oh, Wulder, please!

Smokelike billows erupted from the narrow opening of the bottle. Kale held her breath. This did not look like Gilda’s usual controlled, and somewhat staged, entrance. The pillar of cloud speedily descended to the floor. Everyone stepped back as it roiled in place.

Metta burst into song, breaking the silence. Pure, sustained notes in a soothing melody vanquished the tension. The turmoil within the cloud quieted. The mist thickened, coalescing into a recognizable form. Gilda looked as she had before she entered the bottle the last time.

Kale blinked.

No, I can’t see through her. She’s truly solid. It worked!

Gilda’s eyes roamed from one face to the next.

Ignoring her training not to pry into others’ thoughts, Kale plunged into the meech’s mind. Gilda looked for some difference in those who watched her, as if her transformation would be mirrored by them. Kale laughed and spoke to her friend, “We haven’t changed.
You
are different, Gilda. You’re whole.”

A slow smile spread across her lovely features. She lifted a hand to Regidor. He jumped forward and took it. Gazing into her eyes, he raised it to his lips.

She giggled, a sound that seemed inappropriate for the stately Gilda. “The first time you’ve kissed me, and you missed my mouth by a yard.”

He jerked her forward and into his arms. The next kiss did not miss and made up for years of being unable to touch.

“Well,” exclaimed Granny Noon, placing her fingertips on her throat and giving a shiver. “I’d say this calls for a celebration. If we can get the attention of our two lovebirds.”

Regidor threw back his head and howled in jubilance. He swept Gilda up and swung her around the room.

Bardon and Kale laughed, clapping their hands. The minor dragons soared and chittered, adding to the merriment. Regidor paused before Kale and allowed the two women to hug before he twirled Gilda around the room once more.

“Tea and daggarts,” said Granny Noon and moved to her cupboard.

“It’s a miracle,” said Kale.

Regidor put his bride down on the floor but kept an arm around her. “A miracle? Yes, it is! No less a miracle because Wulder used us to perform it. No less a miracle because the answer was already written in His design of the universe. A miracle!”

Granny Noon’s offer of tea and daggarts expanded to a lovely spread of nordy rolls, oaten honey bread, cakes, tiny sandwiches, a pot of stew, and candies made from mordat. The party lasted all afternoon and into the evening. Gilda took delight in touching things, stroking the minor dragons, holding a spoon, and sipping from a delicate teacup.