DragonSpell (12 page)

         
17
         

L
OOKING FOR
T
ROUBLE

Dar wasted no time. With a nod to Kale, he slung his knapsacks across his back again and headed in the direction she had indicated. Kale followed, glad that she had picked up some skill in walking the treacherous planking at this altitude.

Leetu, we’re coming.

No response.

I wonder if she can hear me?

Leetu?

No answer. At least Kale hadn’t been slapped in the face with that horrible darkness.

She blanked out all thoughts and tried to hear Leetu mindspeak. With her mind on her friend instead of the planking, Kale’s foot hit a thin spot. She plunged through the branches, catching herself with her arms. Dar sprinted back, grabbed her shoulders, and helped her struggle back to the level where they were traveling.

“You all right?” He picked a caterpillar off her arm and placed it on a branch.

“Are you asking
me
if I’m all right, or the caterpillar?”

Dar’s eyebrows shot up and his ears flattened. “Not all right.” He shook his head and turned away, already resuming his quick stride. “Definitely grumpy.”

“I’m not grumpy!” she called after him. She glared at him for a moment, then realized she was wasting more time. His back couldn’t see her scowl.

“I’m not grumpy,” she muttered and took three tentative steps after the doneel. The branches gave way under her, and she hopped to a sturdier limb.

I’d better pay attention to my feet. I wonder if we should go down a level. The problem is speed. Where can we travel the quickest?

The problem is me.
She sighed.
Dar could reach Leetu faster without me. I’m slowing him down, falling through the planking.

She followed Dar, wondering if she should suggest moving down. She could move faster on a level below, provided she didn’t step wrong in the dimmer light. Here she could see better, but it was tiring to have to be so cautious.

Too bad there isn’t a river and a boat. Too bad we don’t have riding dragons like Dar’s Merlander. Even a dirt road and a farm horse would move us faster than this.

She came to a thicker patch of cygnot forest and took advantage of the more closely woven planking to catch up to Dar. He moved at the same pace whatever the quality of planking beneath them.

They stopped for a quick meal late in the day. Inside the gauzy wrapping, Granny Noon’s sandwiches were still fresh. Gymn came out of his pocket-den and sniffed at her bread, cheese, and sliced jimmin but didn’t take a bite. He skipped up her arm and perched on her shoulder until she finished eating. When she stood up after her meal, Gymn dashed back into his pocket-den.

“Let’s keep moving as long as we can,” said Dar. “Do you still think Leetu is in that direction?” He pointed through the trees.

She allowed her mind to test for Leetu’s presence and felt a faint nudge, much less pronounced than before.

Is she weakening? Is she farther away? Is she dying?

Leetu?

No response. At least she knew which direction to go.

She nodded in the direction the doneel still pointed. Dar shouldered his pack and struck out.

Soon daylight faded. The moon’s soft glow did little to help her distinguish between dense clusters of leaves and a solid branch. The swamp bugs became more aggressive. She’d forgotten to ask for the stick that discouraged bugs. Dar’s furry covering didn’t appear to be as attractive to them as her exposed skin.

Big and small flying insects tormented her, distracting her from the serious business of putting her feet down in the safest spots. Kale slapped at them and vowed that as soon as Dar stopped for the night, she would ask him for the stick. She wouldn’t ask now. They must reach Leetu.

After Kale stumbled several times, Dar found a place to camp. He said nothing about her clumsiness. She was too tired to even be embarrassed that they had to stop because she was falling on her face every couple of steps. She spread out her cape close to a cygnot trunk where the planking was thick and solid.

Dar handed her the insect repellent. Kale muttered a thank-you. She rubbed the fragrant bar over every bit of skin sticking out of her clothing, even in her hair.

She wanted to talk to Dar, ask him some things. How far? How soon? Would the mordakleeps be there? But her tongue wouldn’t form the questions. As soon as she curled up on the moonbeam cape and pulled it around her like a gray cocoon, she fell asleep.

Kale opened her eyes to a misty morning. Hazy sunlight filtered through the branches above. A small creature scuttled across her shoulder and down her back. The tread of the animal raced down her leg and back up. As it reached her thigh, Kale sat up with a jerk. She relaxed when she saw it was Gymn. He scurried in another direction, made a leap, and caught a bug. He chewed only a second before he swallowed and then went in pursuit of more breakfast. He never ventured more than a couple of feet away from Kale.

The aroma of sweet porridge drew Kale’s attention. Steam from Dar’s cooking pot swirled around his hand as he stirred with a long-handled wooden spoon.

Kale rubbed sleep from her eyes and crossed her legs.

We should get up and move. But Dar’s fixing breakfast, and there’s no hurrying him.
She sniffed the air and smiled as she watched him.
He’d say, “Doneels take their meals seriously.” And, “You can’t expect to think and act your best on an empty stomach.” I know a lot about him and how he’ll act. I think I know more about how he’ll act in a crisis than I know what I’ll do. I’m willing to sit here and wait for him to produce some delicacy. I do want to find Leetu, but I’m afraid of what we’ll find with her.

Her stomach rumbled. Oats fortified with dried parnot fruit tantalized her nose with a savory odor.

“I had a dream last night,” she said, trying to get her mind off food.

“An interesting dream?” Dar lifted his stirring spoon to his lips and tasted.

“I don’t know.”

He took a pinch of white powder from an open packet beside the small cookstove and dropped the grains into the pot. He stirred slowly.

“What was it about?”

“A dragon.”

“A meech?”

“I don’t know. I’ve never seen a meech. This dragon is larger than Merlander, though.”

Dar nodded. “Not a meech.”

Kale tilted her head and thought. “It’s funny, Dar. I can still see her. It’s kind of like the dream is still going on, even though I’m awake.”

Dar’s ears perked up, and he stopped stirring. “What is the dragon doing?”

“Nothing much. She’s sad and lonely. She’s wounded.”

“Where is she?”

“In a barn.”

“What else is in the barn?”

“Nothing. I mean, no animals, no hay. It’s empty. The gray boards in the walls have gaps so I can see outside. The air is cool and dark and damp.”

“That’s not a dream, Kale.” Dar sounded excited. “You’ve connected with a dragon. Don’t lose her.”

“Lose her? How can I keep from losing her? I don’t know how I got her. Or even what it means when you say I connected with her.”

Dar dished up lumpy porridge into a bowl, stuck a spoon in it, and hurried over to serve Kale. “Eat this. We have to go.”

Something about his expression worried Kale. “To find Leetu, right?”

“No, to find that dragon.”

“Leetu is more important.”

Dar hurried back to his cookstove. He extinguished the flame as he ate hasty bites of breakfast straight from the pot.

“Bigger than Merlander, you said. She can probably carry both of us. Kale, if we find this dragon, we can fly to where Leetu is, and just as important as getting to her in time is being able to get away once we rescue her. And we need to get away fast. Doesn’t a dragon sound pretty convenient for this type of mission?”

“But she’s wounded.”

“You have a healing dragon.”

A dozen more arguments popped into Kale’s head. They didn’t know for sure where Leetu was or where the dragon was. What if Leetu died while they made this detour to find a dragon who might not want to help them?

She opened her mouth to speak, but Dar interrupted her before she got out one word.

“What’s her name?”

Kale stared at him, surprised that she knew the answer. She swallowed hard. What was going on? “Celisse.”

Dar whooped and made a leap into the air. “She knows you’re coming, Kale. She’s given you her name. What’s she doing now?”

Gymn slowly settled on Kale’s knee. He stretched out with his body along her thigh. His legs and tail went limp, and he closed his eyes. Kale took one finger and gently stroked his back. He sighed and rolled over. His swollen belly looked like a round pomegranate. Obviously he’d found enough insects to make him content. Kale looked at Gymn, but in her mind a large shadowy image hovered behind the minor dragon. A massive, placid female dragon swayed her head back and forth.

“She’s humming,” Kale answered Dar’s question.

Soon after they began their trek, they had to descend to the swamp. The cygnot forest thinned at the edge of The Bogs. Kale followed Dar, hopping from one root curved up out of the water to the next until they began to find patches of sodden earth and then dry land. Dar and Kale came out of Bedderman’s Bog and clambered up the embankment. Muggy fog blanketed The Midways.

“Which way?” asked Dar.

Kale nodded one direction. “Leetu is there.” She turned and nodded in another direction, not quite opposite. “Celisse is there.”

“Which one is closer?”

“The dragon.”

“Let’s go then.” Dar started off, wading through the tall, dew-drenched grass. He disappeared into the cloud hovering on the ground.

Kale planted her feet and didn’t budge. “We can’t even see where we’re going.”

She heard him stop. He muttered something under his breath and came back.

“It doesn’t much matter if we can see or not,” he said. “It’s not like we know where we’re going. We don’t have to look for landmarks. We just have to follow your instincts.
You
will take us to the dragon, and then
you
will take us to Leetu.”