DragonQuest (10 page)

         
17
         

P
EACE
?

They traveled on dragons to the Valley of Collumna. Frigid air blasted them as they flew over the southern branch of the Morchain Range. Kale wrapped Toopka inside her moonbeam cape, keeping both of them warm. The little doneel pushed her head out to see the magnificent snow-covered peaks.

Kale noted the splendor of the dragons. The sun glistened off their scales, making them look as if gemstones covered them from head to tail. Their huge wings beat in rhythm. The thurumph of each stroke underscored the whistle of cool wind.

Celisse moved her strong, ebony wings in perfect synchrony with Merlander’s glistening red wings.

Leetu, with Librettowit, Bardon, and Regidor riding behind her, rode just ahead on a massive blue and green greater dragon. Lee Ark, with Wizard Fenworth snoozing in a passenger basket, flew on another of the larger dragons. This one carried even more supply bundles than the first.

Lee Ark rode point, and Kale gathered from his position that he was in charge of the expedition. She looked at the marione’s square shoulders and thick neck, his black, windblown mane, and pictured the kind, serious expression that dominated his features. Everything she knew about him made her feel safe under his command.

Kale put her hand out to rest on the silver scales of Celisse’s shoulder. Beneath her palm the dragon’s powerful muscles rippled in a majestic rhythm. She trusted Celisse to fly straight and true.

A sigh escaped her lips as she stroked Celisse’s strong neck just above the collarbone.
We’re on our way. Another quest. Another adventure. Part of me would like to stay at home, safely reading about others’ escapades. That part is like Librettowit. But I also felt a thrill when the dragons took off from the ground, and we were on our way. That’s more like Dar.

She looked once more at her companions. Her smile widened into a grin.

The excitement continued to bubble inside her as she looked down on the verdant valley. Their first stop would be where the smallest and largest of Wulder’s creations lived side by side. An adult kimen could sleep in either the hat or the shoe of any grown urohm. The two races had a long history of working together.

Dar?

“Yes?”

Do you think we’ll see Brunstetter? Do you think he’ll come with us?

“We might. He might.”

Gazing across the wingspans of the two dragons, Kale encountered Dar’s furry grin. The wind ruffled the white linen cravat at his neck and sent the tails of his fancy jacket trailing behind him.

Kale scowled.
What’s so funny?

“You didn’t want to come on this little excursion.”

This part of the excursion is to a land I’ve heard about all my life.

“In fairy tales and legends.”

Yes! And I’m anxious to find out what is truth and what is make-believe. A year ago I thought gateways weren’t real.

Dar’s face tightened into a frown.
“Some of the things we’ll find to be real won’t be very nice.”

I know, but that’s later, when we cross the Dormanscz Mountains into Creemoor. All the stories about Ordray are fun. And Fenworth says we have to wait here until Paladin sends reinforcements and gives the order to rescue my mother.

With the last two words, Kale shifted her eyes away from Dar. She didn’t want him to see how important it had become to her to find her mother. She had a lot of questions, but most of all, she wanted to know what kind of mother hers would be.

In the village where she was raised, the mariones showed little affection for their offspring. Parents spent a lot of time training children but very little time enjoying them. The mariones she had met in Lee Ark’s home, though, hugged and laughed and played games together.

She forced her mind away from the disturbing image of a mother who ordered her around like Mistress Meiger.

Her friends, all but Fenworth, sat at attention, eagerly watching the beautiful landscape below. The slope of the lead dragon’s wingspan tilted, and Lee Ark guided the small company northward. To the right, Kale caught glimpses of blue-green water along the horizon.

Again, the lead dragon banked, and the troop turned more to the east.

They set down in a pasture through which a stream flowed. Meadow grasses swayed in a pulsating breath of warm air, greeting them with the scent of flowers and fertile earth. Walking away from her friends, Kale followed the sound of water splashing over rocks.

She stopped in her tracks when she saw a miniature three-tiered waterfall. The water flowed over the ledges in an even stream without froth and foam at the base of each diminutive fall. At other points along the brook, water swirled and bubbled as the flow hit rocks and roots. But the water over the falls unnaturally bent to the angles without any disturbance.

“Kimen falls,” said Lee Ark from behind her. “An amazing sight, isn’t it?”

“I’ve heard about them in songs sung at the tavern, but to see one…”

Gymn and Metta flew from her cape with squeals of delight. They landed in the water and let the stream carry their tiny bodies over the falls. With musical trills, the two minor dragons rose from the water and flapped their leathery wings, showering droplets about them.

Toopka struggled against the confines of the cape and broke away. In only a minute, she had her tiny boots and socks off. She shed her clothes down to her white drawers and splashed into the stream with the dragons. She floated on her back and bumped down the steps like a child on a staircase.

Kale looked up at the general. “Did the kimens make this?”

“No, this is impossible,” answered Lee Ark with a smile. “Impossible creations spring from the hand of Wulder.”

Metta and Gymn teased Toopka by darting at her and shaking water-soaked wings above her head. They tired of the game long before the little doneel and took off looking for a place to sun themselves. They flew around the bare branches of a tree and chittered as if discussing this new oddity.

The rootup tree looked upside down. A dense bush surrounded the base. From the center, leafless branches reached upward, intertwined tightly. From a distance, they appeared to be a solid trunk. At the top, these limbs spread apart, just like a root system waving in the gentle breeze.

Toopka came dancing over the green grass, doing a shimmy every few steps to rid her fur of water.

“I like it here,” she announced as she grabbed her shirt and scrubbed her face dry.

“I like it here too.” Kale rested her hand on the pouch hanging from her neck. The egg within thrummed, reflecting her present mood.

By the time the sun slipped behind the Morchain Mountains, the party of travelers had settled in around a blazing campfire. Leetu Bends had taken the larger dragons off for a feed and returned to eat her own dinner cooked by Dar. Songs and stories followed the meal. Dar played a number of instruments with Metta’s cooing voice harmonizing.

The music fascinated Regidor. The meech dragon insisted on holding each instrument as Dar put it down and pulled another out of his bags. He concentrated on Dar’s every movement and mimicked him when he had a chance. Remarkably, he was soon playing accompaniment to every song Dar performed.

While Fenworth dozed against a pile of satchels and parcels, Librettowit and Lee Ark sang the words to the old ballads. Then they spun tales, trying to outdo each other in a good-natured rivalry.

At last Kale curled up in her bedroll. Though she was tired from the journey and the worrisome anticipation of entering Creemoor, her mind dwelt on an unknown mother and destructive spiders. She couldn’t banish the image of a beautiful, sad woman the evil wizard Risto had once shown her.

The woman looked like a queen sitting in a castle tower and gazing wistfully across the forested countryside. Risto had said the woman loved her, but Risto was full of lies. Kale knew what to expect from Creemoor spiders. She didn’t know what to expect from her parent.

Gymn snuggled against her cheek, but Metta could not relax so long as there might be another song. She skittered up and down Kale’s prone figure from her shoulder to her ankle.

From across the campsite, Toopka suppressed a yawn. She got up from the rock where she’d been sitting and came to Kale.

Kale held out the blanket, inviting the little doneel to crawl in beside her.

Toopka shook her head. “No, I’m not tired yet. It’s just the rock is hard. Can I sit with you?”

Kale patted the grass in front of her, and Toopka plopped down. She leaned her back against Kale’s stomach. The tiny child fit like a small puppy in the crook of Kale’s body.

“What kind of dragon will hatch?” asked Toopka, stifling another yawn and wiggling closer.

“I don’t know,” Kale whispered so as not to disturb Librettowit’s “Fable of the Fortunate Farmer.” She stroked the side of the little girl’s head where long, silky hair grew across her jaw line.

Toopka’s small fingers played with the edge of the blanket, pulling at a loose string. “You could ask Gymn and Metta. They might know.”

“No, they don’t.”

“You could ask Librettowit. He knows a lot of things.”

“I don’t think he can see inside an egg.”

“You could ask Wizard Fenworth. He’d know for sure. He can probably see into the egg and into tomorrow or even next week.”

“He might be able to, but he doesn’t answer questions very well.”

Toopka giggled. She leaned her head back against Kale. “I bet it’s a girl baby dragon. I bet it’s the kind that likes other little girls. I bet it’s not as smart as Regidor and not as hard to play with. I bet it’s a baby dragon who will want to ride with me most of the time ’cause you’re so busy.”

“I’m busy?”

“Yep. You’re learning to be a princess.”

“Princess?”

“No,
a
princess. But I don’t understand why Wizard Fenworth is giving Regidor lessons on being a princess too.”

“The word is ‘apprentice,’ Toopka. It means someone who is learning a trade. Regidor and I are bound to help Wizard Fenworth, and in exchange he is obliged to teach us his trade.”

Toopka was silent for a moment. She shifted slightly, and Kale moved the blanket over the little doneel’s shoulders. The child relaxed into a ball.

“I think it would be more fun to be a princess,” she sighed just before her breathing evened out.

Kale ran a finger over one furry, tufted ear. “It depends on whether the princess can stay at home or must go out to save her country.” Kale let a long breath flow from her lungs and took another one in. “It depends on a lot of things, like who’s the queen, and whether she is good or evil.”

         
18
         

M
OTHER

Kale wandered through the mushroom grove looking for the particular type Dar wanted for cooking. She repeated the description to Metta and Gymn as they flew around her. Metta, in particular, could not keep the image in her mind. Instead, she sang mushroom songs with such a variety of lyrics that Kale had to shush her to keep her own thoughts clear.

Kale repeated the instructions out loud. “The top of the cap is navy blue, mottled with purple. The fleshy underside is a rich brown, and the stalk is creamy tan with veins of green. A mature specimen will be at least four feet tall, and we are only to bring the cap.”

Metta began singing a song about three children afloat on the Pomandando River in the cap of a blue-green mushroom. The words formed clearly in Kale’s mind, although her ears heard only a tune sung in the syllabic language of the minor dragon.

“Metta, stop!” she commanded. “Your songs are beautiful, but they are not helping.”

The purple dragon let out a long trill. Kale tensed in anticipation. A singing dragon who felt unappreciated could sing arias that scraped across one’s nerves.

Gymn flew to hover next to Metta. Kale interpreted the cooing noises Gymn made. The male dragon encouraged the ruffled Metta to put up with the insensitive o’rant.

In mock anger, Kale put her hands on her hips and frowned at the two. “Don’t forget I hear everything you say.”

Gymn poked the she-dragon with his wingtip. Metta giggled and did a sideways maneuver that unbalanced the green dragon enough for her to race off. He chirruped with glee and gave chase.

Kale pushed the moonbeam cape off her shoulders so that it hung down her back in a narrow curtain. Trying to keep an eye on their quick, darting flight, she squinted in the brightness of the late morning sun. She sent a message that only Gymn would hear.

Thank you, my little friend. Keep her happy and out of the way while I find this blue and purple, green and tan, edible delight for Sir Dar.

With a sigh of relief, she resumed her search. She enjoyed walking among the colorful toadstools. Most were as high as her shoulder and had a leathery texture.

Dar said the younger ones would be more suitable for cooking, and those would be closer to the forest edge, under the shadows of the tall trees.

She made her way toward the woods but without any hurry. She had plenty of time since Dar would prepare the mushroom steaks for the evening meal. The colors and shapes of the growth around her enchanted her eyes. Even the rich, earthy smell pleased her.

An unfamiliar feminine voice spoke with hushed urgency into her mind.
“Kale. Kale, is that you?”

Who’s speaking?

“Over here, Kale, under the armagot tree. I dare not come out in the open. I’m not supposed to be here. Oh please, come to me, Kale. I can’t stand the waiting any longer.”

The gentle voice pulled at Kale’s heart. She took a few steps closer to the towering trees and tripped over a smaller mushroom, breaking the cap off as she fell. She rolled to the side, dusted off the knees of her breeches, and picked up the large, bowl-like piece of mushroom. Dark brown folds of moist and tender substance clung to a smooth, dark blue shell mottled with a deep purple swirl. Kale stood with the prize in her hands.

“Come to me.”
A sharp note struck in the command.
“Oh, forgive me for my impatience. It has been so long, and still they keep me from you. But I must see you. Kale, I must touch you, and then I can bear the few more days we must wait before we can be together.”

Mother?

“Here, Kale, come quickly. I must return before my absence is noted. There is danger.”

The soft words soothed her doubts away. The urgent plea ran through her like a shiver of fear. She clutched the mushroom cap to her chest and hurried to the shade of the huge trees.

A dark-haired woman stepped from the shadows to greet her. Her elegant white dress shimmered in the sun with the radiant softness of a pearl. Trimmed with royal blue cording, the formfitting bodice sparkled with silver threads. An embroidered high collar caressed the woman’s pale cheeks. Elaborate sleeves puffed slightly at the shoulder, then followed slender arms to a deep ruffle at the wrists. The full skirt rustled as the woman took a hasty step back into the shadows and beckoned Kale to hurry.

Kale stopped in front of the lady. She wanted to throw her arms around her mother, but the absolute perfection of the person before her stifled the urge.

Her thoughts churned, matching the turmoil in her heart.
I am far too ill-bred for someone so refined as this woman.

“No, never say so.”
The woman touched her cheek with smooth, cool fingertips. Her gray eyes latched onto Kale’s. “I am Lyll Allerion. You were torn from my arms as a babe, but you are nothing less than a noble Allerion. You were born to greatness. Soon we will be together, and together we will follow that road of destiny.”

Kale started to step forward, longing for her mother to embrace her. But the hand that had tenderly cradled her cheek lowered and braced against Kale’s shoulder.

“No, I cannot hold you. You are soiled.”

Kale jerked back as if slapped.

Lyll Allerion tilted her head and laughed lightly. The gesture erased the momentary stern expression. “I must return to the palace, and I would be hard-pressed to explain smudges on my gown when I was supposed to have retired to my room for a moment of rest.”

Kale silently agreed. She’d glimpsed wealthy women, richly dressed, in Vendela. None of them compared to her mother. Her heart squeezed, and she swallowed a lump in her throat. Tears flowed down her cheeks, and she hastily rubbed them away with the back of her hand.

“You’ve left streaks of mud across your cheeks.” Out of her sleeve, the elegant woman pulled an embroidered lawn handkerchief and pressed it into Kale’s grubby fist.

Lyll’s fairylike laugh rang like winsome bells, and Kale’s humiliation increased. Carefully guarding her thoughts as Granny Noon had taught her, Kale fumed. She didn’t want this woman to hear her thinking.

She’s afraid I’ll smudge her fingertips. Granny Noon wasn’t afraid of my dirt.

Granny Noon invited hugs. She lived in a hole in the ground and wore homespun clothing. Granny Noon had trimmed Kale’s hair and provided food, clothing, and valuable tools for the quest. The old emerlindian had given a frightened o’rant girl assurance with her words of encouragement and sage advice. This woman had given Kale nothing.

A smile lifted the woman’s lips. Her eyes shone with affection.

Kale sighed.
I can’t give my mother anything. She came looking for me. She wanted to see me. But I’m not much to look at, am I?

She dropped her head and gazed at the tiny points of blue satin shoes peeking from under the hem of the skirt. Blue satin that hadn’t picked up the forest floor’s accumulation of decayed leaves. A hem that showed no signs of dust or dirt.

“Kale.” A male voice boomed over the grove of mushrooms.

Lyll stiffened.

Again the loud call reached their ears. “Kale, where are you?”

Kale looked up at her mother’s face. “It’s Bardon.”

The woman aimed a cold glare of anger over her daughter’s shoulder.

Kale shuddered.

An irritated growl rumbled in her mother’s throat. “I know this boy.” The clipped words felt like pellets against Kale’s ears. “Keep him at a distance, Kale. He will interfere with our plans.”

Kale whispered, “What plans?”

The fiery gaze shifted to Kale’s face, and for a moment Kale withered under its blaze. Then the light under the trees shifted, and with the fickle shadows, Lyll’s expression changed. The tenderness flowing from her mother’s face was so different from the previous venom, Kale doubted she’d really seen hatred in the woman’s eyes.

“Plans for our happiness, dear Kale. We’ve had our share of suffering, haven’t we? It’s time for our reward.”

The woman gathered her skirts and turned away. She took a step into the darker shadows of the forest.

“Tell no one you saw me, Kale. Paladin would be displeased with me for coming here.” Another step, and she was gone. Not just hidden by shadows, but gone.
“Soon, dear Kale, soon.”

“Oh good. You found it.”

Kale whirled around to face Bardon.

“Found it?”

“The mushroom.” He pointed to the cap clamped under Kale’s arm. “Be careful not to damage it. Dar would just send you out for another.”

Kale nodded.

“Are you all right?”

“Me?”

Bardon scowled and looked around her into the trees. Kale stepped forward.

“I’m fine.” She took hold of his arm and turned him toward the colorful grove of mushrooms.

Bardon shook her hand off. “You didn’t sample any of this fungus, did you?”

“Of course not.” Kale gave him a push and started back the way they had come.

“You’re acting strange, and you look kind of odd.”

“I haven’t eaten any of the mushrooms, and therefore I
am
hungry. Very hungry. Let’s get back to the camp.”

She trudged through the shoulder-high mushrooms, no longer admiring the wide variety of colors and shapes. To her annoyance, Bardon made two attempts at conversation.

“The minor dragons came back without you,” he said.

She didn’t answer.

“Wizard Fenworth has been sleeping so much, Librettowit’s worried he’ll turn into a tree and not be able to turn back.”

“Librettowit always frets about something,” she answered and then marched on.

Her mother had said not to get close to Bardon. She wanted to talk to him, to talk about normal things, and avoid thinking about what had just happened. Her mother had said not to tell anyone. Kale wanted most to tell Dar and get his opinion of the episode.

Her mother was beautiful, but that didn’t make Kale feel good. By comparison, she was a worm. Her mother’s eyes had filled with love. But they could also look cold. Her mother’s touch had brought feelings of longing and feelings of dread. Having a mother, having
this
mother, complicated her life with too many confusing emotions.

Back at the camp, the minor dragons flew to greet her but veered off before they landed on her shoulders. They sat instead in a nearby rootup tree and made mournful noises like doves cooing before the rain. When Kale bit into the tasty meat pastry Dar served for noonmeal, the egg hanging in the pouch at her neck bumped and twisted. Her stomach felt the same jitters, and she put the food down unfinished.

After noonmeal, she helped Dar with the dishes and then, alongside Leetu Bends, busily polished the major dragons’ scales. Celisse stretched out her neck, and the dragon’s deep contentment numbed some of Kale’s anxiety.

“Are you all right?” asked her emerlindian friend.

“Yes!” Kale moved to the other side of Celisse so she wouldn’t have to look at Leetu’s puzzled face. Kale concentrated on her dragon and tried to soak in the pleasure emanating from Celisse.

“Kale.” Dar came toward her with the mushroom cap in his hands. He carried it with the brown side up and stopped just a few feet from her. “What color was the stalk of this plant?”

“I don’t remember.”

“Was it a creamy tan with green veins?”

“I said, ‘I don’t remember.’”

Dar shook his head and looked carefully at the cap. “I don’t think it could have been. This smells like a musk melon, and the mushroom I sent you for should smell more nutty.”

She shrugged and went back to rubbing Celisse’s ebony scales. “Does it matter?”

“One is edible, and another might not be.”

She shrugged again and did not look her friend in the eye.

Dar turned the mushroom cap over in his hands, examining it. “This is bruised, and there’s dirt in the folds of the underside.” He took a step closer to Kale. “What happened out there?”

“Nothing.”

“If I could mindspeak, this is one time I’d be tempted to invade your privacy.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about, Dar. Nothing happened.”

Dar gave her a disgusted look and walked away.