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GOOD NEWS, BAD NEWS

Kale’s stomach rumbled as she rummaged in a chest for her slippers. She’d removed her sodden boots before tiptoeing into the little room where Toopka slept. Kale shushed her tummy, telling it to remember the hearty meal she’d eaten at The Horn. She didn’t want Toopka to awaken. The little girl slept soundly, occasionally snoring with a soft snuffling sound Kale had grown to love. The o’rant smiled as Toopka grunted and turned over.

With warm slippers on her feet, Kale found the old pair of trousers Dar had once made for her out of a skirt. She slipped those on, picked her discarded wet ones off the floor, and draped them over the back of a wooden chair. She hurried back to the kitchen, not wanting to miss any of the conversation.

Her comrades met by the warm hearth. Dar placed steaming mugs of mallow and a plate heaped with fried mullins and daggarts on the large kitchen table. He also put out poorman’s dessert for the minor dragons. Even with the comforting touches of food and candlelight, the tension around the table could not be ignored.

Librettowit crossed his arms over his chest with his fingers drumming the sleeve of his dressing gown. Bardon held a mug but did not drink. Regidor held his tail in his lap, stroking the scales at its tip. Only the minor dragons seemed unconcerned. They noisily slurped their treat.

Kale looked around the table at her comrades. They all faced the same uncertain future, but they handled the tension differently. Librettowit allowed gloom to settle on his features. Bardon put on a stonelike facade to hide his inner turmoil. Regidor’s nerves caused him to visibly twitch. Dar adopted his debonair host persona.

Only Dar and the minor dragons look comfortable. Who do I resemble?

She surveyed the different faces once more.

Nobody yet. I guess I get to choose. Paladin is always saying to take care of what is right in front of me. And I know what the problem is right now. I’m hungry!

Kale took a toffee daggart from the plate, which she pushed toward Regidor.

His head jerked up, and he looked at her intently for a moment. Then he sighed, grinned, and helped himself to two daggarts before passing the plate to the librarian.

Dar sat at the head of the table. He wrapped his fingers around his drink as if to warm his hands.

“First, I would like an account of the fight at The Horn.” His eyes shifted immediately to her. “Kale?”

“Some of the men took exception to Regidor.” She paused, not knowing how to describe the way Regidor goaded the men into the fight.

Dar’s eyes moved to the lehman. “Bardon?”

“When the men challenged Regidor, he revealed his identity and instigated the fight.”

Dar’s eyes narrowed. “And what provoked you, Regidor?”

Kale had grown so accustomed to the unusual pupils in Regidor’s eyes, she hardly noticed them. But now the black pupils narrowed to a thick line running down the center of each green iris. The green glowed as if a fire burned within. Kale tensed, wondering if the meech would explode once again.

“They talked of dragons, among themselves and in the stupid rumination of their drunken minds.” Regidor’s deep voice rumbled like thunder announcing a wild storm still some distance away. “Dragons are to be blamed for every ill of society. Poisonous slander. Malicious lies. These men plot to murder dragons working side by side with the high races. Their words inflame the fears of ignorance. Kill. Destroy. Maim. Imprison. These are their solutions to a nonexistent problem. Crush the eggs. Slit the throats of newborns. Burn the carcass of any slain dragon. Bounties have already been offered in Northern Trese. The slaughter has begun.”

Kale tried to stem the panic flooding her. The minor dragons left their dessert and crawled into her arms where she cradled them, holding their fragile bodies as if to protect them from this unseen danger.

“Fools,” barked Librettowit. “For centuries Amara’s economy has depended on cooperation between the high races and the dragons. The dragons have always been unselfish in their willingness to facilitate the production and marketing of goods. How do these vigilantes propose to conduct business after they have annihilated our worthy friends?”

“Yes.” Dar spoke with ponderous gravity. “This narrow-minded propaganda is poisoning the thinking of too many people. The problem escalates by careful planning. Rabble-rousers spread these venomous ideas. And the dragons themselves act in an irrational manner that strengthens the rumors.”

Kale cuddled her three dragons. “What are we going to do?” Not even Dibl passed encouragement to her worried mind.

“I have news from my meeting tonight,” said Dar. “We can at last leave this depressing city and go in search of the meech dragon. We have a definite lead.”

They leaned over the table toward the doneel.

“One wagon of itinerant merchants has been noted to have been in each location where an outbreak of radical dragon behavior has occurred. The meech dragon must be traveling with this band of thieves. They sell elixirs, potions, balms, and concoctions to heal, relieve, and assuage any problem you could name. Of course, it’s all a sham. I believe their poison harms men’s minds as well as their bodies. We shall track down these swindlers and see what they carry in their wagon besides chicanery.”

“First,” said Regidor, “we have another issue to discuss.”

All eyes turned to the meech dragon. Kale picked up the suppressed anger emanating from her friend. She cast a glance at Bardon to see if he, too, recognized the danger. The lehman’s body tensed. He pushed his chair a foot away from the table. His focus remained on Regidor’s stern expression.

The dragon glared at the doneel. “Dar, you will not lie to us again.”

“Lie?” The doneel clenched a fist. “Explain this accusation.”

“You told us that you were going into a back room to play cards.” Regidor paused. He ground out his next words. “You were not playing cards.”

Dar nodded. His fist relaxed. “I see your concern, Regidor. I’ll explain.

“I entered the game of cards, hoping to pick up some useful gossip. However, one of the players was the first mate from the frigate Breedoria.

“I knew that a messenger had intended to board the ship in Dascarnavon. So I asked the first mate if they had taken on a passenger from that port. He said they had, but the man was ill. I excused myself from the game and went to the Breedoria. I boarded and found our informer was not ill but wounded. He gave me the news I have shared with you.”

Dar’s cold delivery of the facts made Kale shiver. She did not like this stern, controlled man who had taken the place of her fun-loving friend.

Librettowit slammed his empty mug down on the table. “Good news and bad. Good that we finally have a clear direction for this quest. Bad that we must leave the relative comfort of this house to pursue the reprobates. I prefer my library to the wilds of Trese.” He rose from his chair. “I propose we pack in the morning and leave as soon as the dragons are summoned.”

He shuffled out of the room, shutting the hall door with a thud. Kale saw a quiver of a smile play on Dar’s lips. She relaxed a bit.

“The wilds of Trese?” she asked. “I was raised in River Away in Trese. The countryside consisted of farmland and forest, very tame forest with hardly any wildlife you would call wild. No grawligs, no blimmets, no mordakleeps. In fact, the seven low races are considered to be a fable by most of the citizens of Trese.”

Dar chuckled. “Anyplace that has no libraries, no bookstores, no institutions of higher learning is considered uncivilized and wild to our tumanhofer.”

“Summon the dragons?” Bardon’s eyes glinted with excitement.

“Yes, Celisse and Merlander will fly to meet us, then carry us to our destination.”

Kale’s heart skipped over the dread of their quest and landed with joy at the prospect of being reunited with the two dragons.

“To bed, then,” said Dar.

They stood and cleared the dishes from the table. Each one took a candle to light the way to their chambers.

“Kale,” said Dar as he pushed open the door, “there’s one thing that I should perhaps mention to you. The first stop on our journey is where the wagon of potion peddlers is expected to visit next. That would be River Away. You shall soon be seeing the masters of your youth.”

Kale blinked. Oh, that’ll be just great. The only thing to make this trip better would be if my mother showed up.

Dar winked at her. “And Fenworth will be there as well. He and his companions have rescued your mother.”