10
RESEARCH
“Research.” Librettowit thumped his tankard down on the kitchen table. “That’s what’s needed for a venture like this. Research, plenty of research and planning.”
Kale watched the tumanhofer with interest. She lounged on a sofa in Fenworth’s large common room. Metta sprawled on her lap, and Gymn snuggled on her shoulder against her neck. Every once in a while, the small dragon raised his rough chin to rub affectionately against her cheek.
Librettowit’s commentary on what he already knew about Creemoor continued. He talked of the wind-sculpted towers above ground and the catacombs carved by underground rivers long gone, the history of desolation, and hungry creatures desperately seeking food and water.
“There’s a lot more information needed to aid in this proposed quest.” The librarian eyed the dozing wizard. “Caution, prudence.”
Librettowit grumbled under his breath, but Kale heard him. “Treachery brews in Creemoor.”
He sipped from his tankard and raised his voice. “I’m as eager as anyone to dig out any bit of information. Of course I want to discover who instigated the spider attack on Vendela. But I’ve a librarian’s soul, and I prefer to find out by some means within the strong walls of Fenworth’s extensive library.”
Librettowit turned his short body on the wooden stool and surveyed the room. Regidor sat on the sofa with Kale, his tail pulled around and into his lap where he fingered the scaly ridges. Toopka had been tucked in for the night in a hammock strung between beams opposite the kitchen end of the common room. Bardon sat in a corner next to bookcases and a branch of bright lightrocks. He was reading a book called Knights in Service.
Fenworth snoozed. He sat in a comfortable chair with a yellow light globe suspended in the air over his right shoulder. One hand held a mug, and an open book rested in the other.
Kale watched Librettowit study each of his comrades in turn. She wondered what he was thinking but refrained from reaching into his thoughts. It was bad manners to eavesdrop on private musings. She averted her eyes when the tumanhofer turned his gaze on her, but she still felt a subconscious blush under his scrutiny. She deliberately focused on the homey room.
Pools of cool blue light emanated from lightrocks hanging in fixtures from the wall and sitting on tables. Breezes freely came and went through the open windows, large round holes in the tree walls. The damp air carried the tangy fragrance of swamp flowers. Night birds hailed one another as the moon rose over The Bogs. Kale relished the peace.
Truthfully, I’m siding with Librettowit. I don’t want to explore the caves of Creemoor. For one thing, I don’t feel strong enough. Gymn’s healing has always been quicker than this.
She rubbed her hand. The skin itched.
I wonder if something is wrong this time. It’s been hours now since I awoke, and I still feel like I fell out of a treetop. My arm’s weak, and it aches.
Librettowit cleared his throat and wagged a finger at the wizard. “Mind you, Fenworth, I am not tagging along to be your portable encyclopedia. I’ll give you facts, maps, and the probabilities, but I am not going with you. I’m a librarian, after all, not a knight or a wizard or an adventurer.”
Toopka leaned forward and almost fell out of the hammock. She swung precariously for a moment before her bed settled into a steady rhythm and she could ask her question.
“Who will tell us stories if you don’t come along?”
The tumanhofer offered her a fierce growl, but the child just giggled. He drew his brows together more fiercely. “You’re not going either, so it’s a moot point.”
“Who will sing?” she persisted. “You sing all the old, old folk songs. Metta only knows them if she gets them from you. It will be boring without you and Metta singing after supper.”
Regidor got up from the sofa. His bulky tail knocked over an end table piled with books. While everyone in the room held their breaths, he sat down beside Librettowit without toppling anything else.
Fenworth harrumphed. Opening one eye, the wizard glared at the mishap. The table righted itself. The spilled books leapt back into neat stacks.
With none of his usual buoyant attitude showing on his face, Regidor studied his folded hands. His shoulders slouched as he sighed heavily.
Librettowit ignored Fenworth and placed a hand over Regidor’s. “Don’t worry about him. Truth be spoken, you’ve done the old man a world of good.”
Fenworth grumbled something about “old man” and pointedly stuck his nose into the small volume of woodland lore he held.
Librettowit chuckled. “A month ago it would have taken Fenworth fifteen minutes of concentrated effort to recall the backup spell. Now he does it without thinking. All because of you, Regidor.” He patted the dragon’s hand once more. “You’re good for him. Keeping his mind sharp.”
“Harrumph!” Fenworth put his mug down and turned a page.
“Am I to be left at home?” asked Regidor. “Do I have to stay with Toopka?”
“You get to stay with me, my boy,” said Librettowit. “We’ll study geography. Maybe do some traveling through the gateways. Learn a bit about our country. Go to a festival or two. Autumn is a good time for traveling—weather’s not too bad and lots of harvest galas happening all over the place.”
Regidor pouted. “I want to go on the quest.”
“Me too!” Toopka rocked her hammock wildly.
Metta and Gymn sat up abruptly and let out a trill. Kale forced herself to concentrate. The dragons’ thoughts pushed into her weary mind.
“Celisse?” Kale straightened. The little dragons leapt into the air and flew out the open window into the night.
“Celisse and Merlander!” Kale exclaimed and struggled to her feet. A smile spread across her face as she went to the window and peered out. The limbs of Fenworth’s castle obscured some of the sky, but she could see twinkling stars and the moon’s soft glow on the towering bog trees.
Kale crowed. “And Dar! Dar’s coming too!”
Toopka twisted over the edge of her hammock, dropped to the floor, and trotted across to the window.
“Where? Where is he?” She pulled on Kale’s sleeve. “Lift me up. I want to see.”
Bending to pick up the child with her stronger arm, Kale shook her head. “You can’t see him. He’s far away, riding on Merlander. They have to land outside The Bogs, and Dar will walk in.”
“The big dragons won’t come here? Why not? Is Fenworth mad at them, too?”
Regidor jumped out of his chair, knocking it over, and shouldered his way into a position where he could look out the window. Kale had to step aside.
Bardon looked up. “Bad manners, Regidor.”
The dragon muttered, “Excuse me.”
He poked his nose out the window and sniffed. “I don’t smell anything but The Bogs. I smell sweet mallow vine, water, wet wood, water, and more wet wood. I don’t smell any other dragons. Or this Dar person, either.”
“He’s too far away,” said Toopka. “Kale said so.”
“Then how does she know he’s coming?”
“The little dragons told her,” Toopka said, sticking her chin out.
“Yes, that’s right,” said Kale. “But I can also feel their presence.”
“Teach me to do that,” demanded Regidor.
“Manners,” said Bardon.
Regidor turned to glare at the lehman. “It’s a waste of time to put in all those extra words just to sound good.”
“If you want to be in service to Paladin, you must follow his example. Article seventeen—‘gracious in every word.’”
Exasperated with Bardon’s rules, Regidor hissed through thin lips, “Please, teach me to do that!”
“I don’t know that I can, Regidor,” answered Kale. “It’s a talent given to me by Wulder. Leetu Bends taught me how to use it, but Wulder gave the talent to me first.”
“How do I know if He gave it to me?”
“Well, close your eyes, then try to reach with your mind to things that are beyond this room.”
The meech dragon obediently closed his eyes and stretched his neck out through the window. “I don’t think this is working.”
“Be quiet. Give it time.”
“It’s not working.”
“You aren’t being quiet.”
“Do you have to be quiet?”
“It works best when I’m quiet.”
A moment passed.
“I still don’t think it’s working.”
She clamped her jaw shut, biting back a sharp retort. Regidor was just like the small children she had tended as a village slave. “You have to wait two whole minutes before you can say it’s not working again.”
Regidor’s eyelids wrinkled as he squeezed them tighter. His thin lips clenched in a determined grimace.
Kale gazed out the window with a contented sigh.
Hello, Dar.
“Hi, there. Guess I’m not going to surprise you.”
I’m surprised. I’m also glad you’re coming, but why?
“We had a battle against an onslaught of Creemoor spiders right after you left. I happened to be in the thick of things and got a medal for bravery. Seems kind of ridiculous to give a fellow a medal for trying to stay alive.”
Oh, Dar! That’s wonderful. Now they must realize doneels are capable of being warriors. Now they won’t be so reluctant to allow you to train at The Hall.
“Actually, I’m not going to continue training there.”
But that’s what you’ve wanted for half your lifetime. You told me so yourself.
“Paladin said the medal shows I don’t need the training, and he has another job for me. He gave me an honorary commission. You may have to call me ‘sir’ now.”
Kale laughed. Sir Dar?
“Exactly.”
What is the job?
“Determining the intent of Risto’s two henchmen, Burner Stox and Crim Cropper. They’ve been involved in some mighty peculiar enterprises of late. Maybe even the spider drop on Vendela.”
We were there.
“When the spiders attacked?”
Yes, we hadn’t gone through the gateway yet. I was poisoned, and it’s taking a long time to get well.
There was a pause. “Kale, very few victims of Creemoor spider poison survive.”
Paladin helped—and Gymn and Fenworth.
“I’m glad you made it. We’re landing now, west of The Bogs. We’ll camp tonight, and I’ll walk in tomorrow. I can’t wait to see you, my friend.”
Give Celisse a hug for me. I’ve already greeted her and Merlander. I wish I could fly out to meet you all.
“I am not going to hug Celisse, but I’ll give her a pat and maybe scratch behind her ears.”
Kale laughed again. It was going to be good to have him around.
“Mordakleeps!” screeched Regidor.
“Where?” Kale searched the shadowed landscape outside the castle window.
“Not here. There. Where that man Dar is and the two dragons.”
Dar! Kale screamed the warning with her mind.
“Mordakleeps!” came the doneel’s cry.
Fenworth came out of his chair in one swift, powerful motion and stretched a sinewy arm into the air. “To the rescue!” he shouted, and the room began to spin.