DragonQuest (22 page)

         
39
         

A
RDEO

Kale awoke in the middle of the night. She’d curled herself around a lumpy pillow. One hip hurt where it had settled into a crevice in the poorly stuffed mattress. For a moment she didn’t recognize the room made of rough-hewn beams and plastered walls. Toopka slept in another narrow bed. Moonlight cast a pale glow through the small chamber. Only the corners hid in shadows.

The inn.

Groggy with sleep, she looked at one window. Curtains hung over a single glass pane.

Dibl’s giggle shifted her attention. The three minor dragons perched on the back of a wooden chair, staring at her with joyful expressions. She blinked.
What?
She started to sit up, but a slight weight on her hip stopped her. She craned her neck to see what it was.

A small glowing mass balanced on the curve between her waist and her thigh. It moved. Kale squinted. The ball of white light stretched, elongating into a neck topped with an angular head. Curious dark eyes blinked at her. The small dragon continued to stretch, showing her his small pointed tail.

Kale’s hand flew to the pouch that always hung around her neck. No longer round with the egg, the flattened sides and muffled crunch revealed the broken eggshell within.

A rush of joy caught her off guard. She laughed out loud. Scooping the shining baby into her hand, she sat up. Her fingers glowed as if she were holding a white lightrock. Gymn, Metta, and Dibl soared into the air, expressing their delight with a chorus of trilling noises and fancy aerobatics.

Kale watched as the baby performed an instinctive bonding behavior. Gymn, Metta, and Dibl had done this same thing. The young creature rubbed his entire body leisurely over Kale’s palm, thrumming contentedly.

“What is your name, little one?” whispered Kale.

The dragon lifted his chin from her thumb and peered at her with eyes that looked too large for his tiny head.

“Ardeo! Your name is Ardeo.”

The flying dragons swooped around Kale’s head and shoulders. Their excitement transferred to Kale and the newborn. Ardeo rolled in her hand. The dragon’s luminescence blurred his features. She couldn’t actually see his face other than the dark eyes. A gleaming haze surrounded his entire form.

“Wow!” Toopka whispered her excitement.

Kale looked up to see the little girl standing at the end of the bed. Toopka crawled onto the hard mattress and eased closer to the baby dragon.

“Can I hold it?”

“Him,” said Kale. “And you can hold him tomorrow.”

“He shines.”

The radiance from the newborn reflected off the little doneel’s pale fur. The baby settled down on his back.

“Can I touch him?”

“Yes.”

Toopka stretched out her hand and stroked the dragon’s belly with one finger.

“What do you think his talent is?” she asked.

Kale furrowed her brow. “I don’t remember a description in the books of a white dragon who glows. I still have them, though. They’re in the hollows of my cape. Tomorrow we’ll look him up.”

“Maybe his talent is glowing.”

Kale held the creature up to her chin and rubbed him softly with her cheek. “That would be enough.”

“Oh yes,” said Toopka. “But I didn’t get to see him born.”

“Neither did I. I woke up, and he was already sitting on me.”

Toopka heaved a dramatic sigh. “I guess I’ll never see a baby dragon hatch.”

“I have four more eggs, Toopka. Surely someday you’ll be in the right place at the right time.”

The little girl nodded but didn’t seem to hold out much hope.

Kale scooted over on the narrow bed. “Here, you crawl in with me. We need to go back to sleep. In the morning, you can hold Ardeo.”

Toopka scrambled into the warm bed beside Kale. She squirmed a bit to get comfortable and then lay with her head on Kale’s shoulder. She stared at the little dragon cupped in Kale’s hands and resting on her stomach. “He’s beautiful.”

“Yes, he is. He looks like the moon, doesn’t he?”

A knock on the door woke the two sleeping comrades and four minor dragons. Bardon spoke from the hall.

“We’re leaving early this morning.”

“All right,” Kale called back.

The dragons nested on top of her and the covers. When she shifted, they flew off with grumbles voiced deep in their throats.

Toopka had to be prodded to get up and move. Kale hurried to dress and get both of them ready to go. The dragons crawled into their pocket-dens even before she put the moonbeam cape over her shoulders. After a bite of breakfast, the party of questers boarded the carriage in time to watch the sun rise over frost-covered fields.

Toopka stood behind Bruit’s bench and hung over Bardon’s shoulder. A big bump tossed her forward, but she caught herself by grabbing Bardon’s neck. He disengaged her with a swift movement and placed her in his lap. She snuggled into the warmth of his chest.

“We have a surprise,” she said, with a mischievous grin lighting her face.

Bardon roughed her hair. “What is it?”

“You have to guess.”

Bardon glanced back at Kale and then down at the little girl in his lap. He grinned at her. “This isn’t exactly fair, Toopka. Kale can’t keep secrets from me.”

“Will you mindspeak with me? Do you think I could learn how to do it? I mean, start it. I can answer when Kale talks to me in my mind, but I can’t start it.”

“After I see this new baby dragon, Toopka, I’ll mindspeak with you. But I don’t think you can learn to do it if Wulder hasn’t given you the gift.” He stood and stepped over the back of the driver’s perch.

Kale pulled out Ardeo as Bardon sat next to her.

“Oh no!” cried Toopka. “He’s dead!”

“No,” said Kale, but worry trembled her voice. “He’s not dead. He’s breathing.”

“But he’s ugly, and he’s not moving.” Toopka clutched Kale’s arm. Her eyes filled with tears.

Blotches of gray mottled the baby’s dull white skin. Kale stroked Ardeo’s side as he snored softly. Metta, Gymn, and Dibl squirmed out of their pocket-dens and gathered around the littler dragon.

“They say he’s all right. He’s just sleeping.” Kale reported the impressions she had from the minor dragons.

“But he’s ugly,” cried Toopka. “He looks like a cold lump of porridge.”

Ardeo stretched, yawning until his little mouth spread wide enough to cover the end of Kale’s thumb. His eyes blinked open, and he gazed around at his audience. He stood and stretched again, arching his back. Spreading his wings, he rocked back and forth on the palm of Kale’s hand.

Metta began to sing. Dibl did an uphill roll from Kale’s elbow to her neck, then hopped, flipped, and skipped on her head and shoulders. Gymn sprang into the air to dance above their heads.

Ardeo trilled and flew from Kale’s hand to her knee and back again. He then pounced onto Toopka, then Bardon, and darted back to Kale.

“He’s healthy enough,” said Bardon as Toopka clapped with glee. He turned to Kale.
“Why were you worried?”

Last night he was beautiful. He looked like a dragon formed out of moonbeams.

“Well, he’s a little worse than plain in the sunlight. What does your book say about this grayish dragon?”

I haven’t looked it up yet.

Kale moved back from the circle of activity and reached into the hollow of her cape. The first book she pulled out was
Training for Performance: An Overall Guide to Dragonkeeping.
She laid it aside and searched again. This time she brought out
The Care and Feeding of Minor Dragons.
Resting the book on her crossed legs, she thumbed through the pages, looking for the list of colors.

“Here it is, Bardon.” She pointed to a paragraph near the end of the first chapter.

Bardon moved to sit beside her. He sat on a higher trunk and looked over her shoulder. Dibl landed on Bardon’s head. Kale read aloud.

“The dappled white is very rare. An unattractive color in strong light, the minor dragon produces radiance in shadows and darkness. Plainly, its talent is to light the way.”

Bardon chortled. “Obviously.”

Kale looked at the twinkle in Bardon’s blue eyes. “Obviously,” she repeated and laughed.

“Is anything about dragons obvious?”

Oh yes. I think most of what they do is logical.

“Only to a Dragon Keeper.”

         
40
         

A L
IGHT ON THE
S
UBJECT

Two more days of travel took them past many scenes of devastation. Evidence lined the roadways where formerly placid dragons had used their mighty strength to wreak havoc. The minor dragons expressed their dismay with long, sad chirrs of reproach.

On a sunny morning with brown, crunchy leaves blowing from the trees, they came to a pasture where four dragons awaited them. Kale rejoiced to see Celisse and Merlander. She wondered why the two other dragons had been sent but knew Celisse would explain. One was blue and purple. The other, shades of brown and copper.

Kale ran into the field and threw her arms around Celisse’s neck. Dar followed and greeted Merlander with more reserved affection.

Kale turned to wave at Bardon who remained seated beside Bruit. His face flushed, and she heard him with her mind as he declared,
“Not me!”

Yes, Bardon, it’s true. Paladin has sent Greer for you. His rider died in the recent battle in Creemoor. He wants to serve again. Greer’s heart will break if he doesn’t find a rider soon.

Bardon climbed down from the driver’s perch and walked slowly into the field. Grasshoppers and drummerbugs scattered before him.

Greer arched his blue neck and swung his head toward his potential rider. The majestic dragon stretched out cobalt blue wings from a royal purple body and beat the air with one mighty flourish. The draft blew Bardon’s hair back from his face.

Kale took in a quick breath. With his hair blown back, she saw Bardon’s pointed ears. She glimpsed this oddity all too clearly. She glanced at her comrades and even tested them with her talent to see if they had noticed. No one seemed to have spotted what was so obvious to her.

The dragon bowed his head to Bardon now that the young man stood close. They looked each other in the eye for almost a minute. She held her breath.

Bardon put his hand forward, palm down. The dragon placed his chin next to the hand and neatly nudged it, causing Bardon to turn his hand over. Bardon stepped forward and stroked the huge beast’s neck. Greer rested his chin on the lehman’s shoulder.

Kale exhaled and squeezed Celisse’s neck.

It worked. They’re going to be good for each other.

She felt the rumble in Celisse’s throat and laughed out loud.
Of course I never doubted Paladin had made a wise decision.

Toopka ran into the field and jumped into Kale’s arms.

“There’s one more dragon. Is that one for me?”

“No, Toopka.” Kale squeezed the little doneel in a tight hug. “The brown one’s name is Bett, and Librettowit will ride him. We need four because we don’t want to overburden our dragons with too many passengers and too much luggage.”

They transferred their belongings from the top of the carriage to the backs of the dragons. Bruit held his horse in check as he watched the questers take off. He waved his hat in farewell.

“I like Bruit,” said Toopka from her seat in front of Kale on Celisse.

“I like him too,” answered Kale.

Toopka leaned back, resting her head on Kale’s chest, and sighed. “Questing means leaving a lot of people behind, doesn’t it?”

“Well, yes. But it also involves meeting a lot of people ahead.”
And tomorrow I’ll be meeting people from my past.

They flew until dusk, then landed in a devastated field. Bardon and Kale walked to a nearby farmhouse to gather news. An hour later, they returned to tell the others that the destruction by dragons was even more widespread and more catastrophic in the north. The farmers in the area were nervous.

After supper, Kale sat under a bentleaf tree, close to the trunk. Long slender branches drooped to touch the ground all around her, creating a private bower. Only the sound of insects and a rhythmic call from a beater frog invaded her solitude.

The four minor dragons followed her into her little sanctuary. Her tense body relaxed as Metta began a trilling song. She laughed as Dibl ran up and down her body in his excitement at being in a new place.

“As long as I have you for friends, I won’t have to worry about being lonely, will I?”

Ardeo sat in her lap, his glow as bright as the moon. Kale stroked his sides. Metta sat on her favorite perch on Kale’s shoulder. The little purple dragon leaned against her neck and nuzzled her chin. She hummed a soothing song that apparently had no words. Gymn sat on the other shoulder, and Dibl chased bugs. Ardeo still hadn’t shown any interest in his first meal.

Kale remembered Fenworth’s tirades about how uncomfortable quests could be. She agreed. Having an unpleasant mother pop in and out of this quest made it even more uncomfortable. Kale wished she could return to The Hall and escape the complications confronting her. But a little reprieve with only the minor dragons was the best she could get.

The other questers sat around a campfire. But Kale wanted to think and sort through her feelings. Tomorrow they would land at River Away. She would see the people who had raised her from an infant.

“You’ll like Dubby Brummer,” she told Dibl as he somersaulted in front of her. “I wonder how much he’s grown. When I saw him last, he was still in wrappers.”

Gymn tumbled off her shoulder and pounced on Dibl. They wrestled for a moment then went after more bugs. “Bolley and Gronmere are fun to watch too. They wrestled in the town square to show off their fighting ability. I wonder if I should offer to go a round with them.” She giggled. “Wouldn’t they be surprised?

“Then there’s Mistress Meiger. If nice means friendly, then Mistress Meiger is definitely not nice. But she’s fair.

“And Master Meiger is busy, too busy to be kind or even interested in what a slave is doing.”

She scooped Gymn into her hands and snuggled him under her chin. “Just think how their eyes will pop when they see me slide off Celisse’s neck and walk toward them in my leecent uniform instead of a slave’s tatters.”

Gymn warbled in his throat.

“No, we don’t have to wear our disguises any longer. Well, maybe Regidor does. But the rest of us will look exactly like what we are—servants of Paladin, sent to help the local populace in their dire need. I intend to look very official and impressive.”

She placed Gymn on her knee and pulled the pouch from around her neck. She shoved two fingers in and pulled out a piece of shell. “The first thing we will do is clean out this pouch. Mistress Meiger gave it to me to carry Gymn.”

She turned the material inside out, and pieces of shell fell to the leaf-littered ground. A glint of metal warned her that the odd coin she’d been given by Granny Noon had fallen too. Gymn climbed up her body as Kale shifted to her knees and ran her fingers through the mulch. She found the shiny disk. Holding it in the palm of her hand, she examined the two pie-shaped notches cut into its sides.

A breeze whisked Kale’s hair. She looked up to see the curtain of bentleaf branches parting. Her mother stepped in. Her velvet dress in shades of purple with gold trim crowded the small bower. She had to stoop, and Kale got the impression this annoyed her greatly.

“Surrounded by your pretty little pets again, Kale? Put them away for the time being. I have important news for you.”

The minor dragons scurried to the shadows. Kale plucked Gymn from her shoulder and placed him on the ground, stood abruptly, and bobbed a curtsy.

“Mother.”

“Yes, our friends have brought me safely out of Creemoor. My work there is done. There’s no need for me to remain in River Away. Fenworth and Cam have the situation well in hand. Now, let’s go.”

“Go? Go where?”

“Vendela. Isn’t that where you wish to be?”

An image of the beautiful buildings, clean streets, and happy people popped into her mind. For two weeks she’d been at The Hall and had a predictable future of training and service. Then she’d followed Dar out the gate.

“No.” Kale shook her head.

Her mother’s eyebrows arched. “No?”

“I’d like to go back someday, but not today.”

“That is neither here nor there. We’re leaving.” Lyll Allerion held out a hand, waiting for Kale to take it.

Metta flew back to Kale’s shoulder. Gymn took up a position on the other. Dibl and Ardeo dove into the front of the moonbeam cape, seeking their dens. The instant Ardeo disappeared under the folds of the cape, the bower fell into darkness.

Lyll’s hand snapped back. She hissed a word Kale did not recognize, and a light exposed the area. The harsh glare made Kale blink and shield her eyes.

Her mother spoke another word, and the offensive light dimmed.

Her mother smiled, but the hard look in her eyes remained, making Kale feel wary.

“As you see,” said Lyll Allerion, her voice smooth and persuasive, “I have no need for those scrawny creatures. Your collection of beasts will not be necessary in our palace. Instruct them to stay here.”

Kale felt a shiver go through her heart, and her hands clenched into fists. The hard metal disk bit into the flesh of her palm. Pain streaked up her arm. Kale released the grip she had on the odd coin and let it fall.

“Oh no.” She dropped down to her knees, looking for Granny Noon’s gift.

“What is it now?” asked Lyll.

“I lost the coin Granny Noon gave me.”

“You won’t need that either. Honestly, Kale, step out of this dismal existence. Why be at the beck and call of a motley group of misfits when you can live in the splendor of wealth and power granted by Wulder Himself to the Allerion family? Come!”

Lyll extended her milk-white hand once more, and Kale saw the pointed tips of nails painted a purple hue to match her mother’s gown.

She ducked her head and stared at the ground. The coin lay among dry, crisp leaves. A tendril of smoke spiraled up from the edge of the metal disk. With a crackle, the smoke expanded and swirled into a thin tongue of fire. Kale’s eyes widened as the small flame encircled the coin and grew taller.

Gymn and Metta squeaked their alarm. With a whoosh of cold air, Kale’s mother disappeared. Kale stomped on the fire with her boot. In a matter of seconds, the bower under the bentleaf tree was dark and silent.

She squared her shoulders and fought the fear that almost buckled her knees. Dibl and Ardeo peeked out of the cape. Ardeo gave a trill and dove to the charred ground. He picked up a bug and popped it in his mouth.

Kale gave a nervous giggle. “Roasted roach seems to be Ardeo’s preferred meal.”

She bent over and carefully picked up the shiny metal disk. No heat remained. She clenched the cold coin in her hand and felt no pain. She tightened her grip and still did not feel the bite into her flesh that had made her drop it before.

Opening her hand, Kale stared at the small piece of metal. “Now what does this mean?”