DragonSpell

by Donita K. Paul

  “Stupid o’rant. Stupid o’rant. We smelled you.”

  The chant grew louder as more tormenters joined the first three grawligs kneeling by the hole. A hairy arm reached down and groped along the sides of the rock. More dirt, leaves, and twigs fell on Kale’s head.

  The young o’rant girl curled tighter, shrinking from the voices above. Her hand searched for her treasure, pulling it out by the leather cord. She grasped the smooth cloth of the drawstring pouch. At first the egg inside lay cold and unresponsive. Gradually, it grew warm. Kale concentrated on the soft thrum in her hand, blocking out the “stupid o’rant” chant of the grawligs.

  Pain and fatigue, fear and panic drained away. She shifted around to find a fairly comfortable position on the stony floor. With the pouch gripped in her hand and pressed against her cheek, she fell asleep.

  When she opened her eyes once more, streams of light shone into the cave at three spots. The first was directly above her. A head covered with matted brown hair lay partially inside the hole. Kale could see a large hairless ear and part of the loose lips of the beast. Rough snores rumbled above.

  A beam no more than a hand’s width descended from a second hole in the ceiling. The third opening on the opposite side of the dismal cave showed more promise. Not only was the hole big enough for Kale to wiggle through, but also large boulders like uneven stairsteps made climbing possible.

  She stood and stumbled across the uneven cave floor. She looked up and studied the hole she hoped to use for her escape. Since the ceiling of the cave sloped upward, it would be a long climb compared to the slide last night.

  “I’m thankful that’s not the hole I fell through,” she whispered.

  Tucking her treasure inside the neck of her blouse, she started climbing. She placed each foot carefully and tested each ledge before shifting her whole weight. She didn’t want to cause a landslide for two reasons: I don’t want to wake those grawligs, and I don’t want to be buried under a ton of boulders. I want out of here alive. I want to get to Vendela in one piece.

  Warm air touched her hand as she placed it on the next rock. Contrasted with the chill air surrounding her, it felt like a breath from the mouth of a huge animal. She pulled her hand back and listened. Faintly she heard the coarse snores of grawligs and the morning chatter of birds in the trees outside, an odd combination. Within the cave, only the drip of water from a far corner reached her ears.

  Cautiously, she eased up to peer over the rock. A narrow passage stretched back into the darkness. Moist air flowed steadily from the opening.

  I wonder what’s back there.

  Again she tilted her head and listened intently. No sound came through the tunnel opening, no sound at all. Curiosity niggled at her thoughts.

  What’s in that tunnel? How far back does it go? Why warm air?

  She found herself crouched next to the hole and leaning in. She’d have to crawl on hands and knees. If she had a light of some sort, she could go in. She put a hand on the floor of the tunnel and placed her head within the opening.

  What am I doing? I don’t want to go in there. I want to get away from the grawligs.

  She drew back as if she’d nearly stepped off a high cliff. Her breathing came in quick, panicked puffs. Clenching her fists, fighting the urge to plunge into the tunnel, she remembered Mistress Meiger’s stern face.

  Focus on what’s ahead.

  Kale stretched a hand up and grabbed a rock ledge. In a minute she’d be out of the cave.

  Still she wanted to turn back and explore the tunnel. The powerful urge to go through that underground passage scared her. It made no sense.

  She climbed the last few feet to the top of the cave with firm determination. Kale cautiously poked her head and then her shoulders above the ground. Squinting in the bright morning sun, she considered the bushes around the rocks where she had fallen into the cave. Her present outlook was higher and a good twenty feet west of the sprawled grawligs. Not all of them had fallen asleep around the hole. That meant some were out of sight.

  Awake or asleep? And how many?

  As near as she could count, eleven uncouth ogres lay in piles in and around the bushes. Last night dozens of grawligs had gathered in the camp.

  Where are the others?

  She surveyed the surrounding area, first the low ground ahead. Then she turned and peered above her. The best route of escape lay over the rocks going west.

  At least that looks like the best way.

  She looked again at the beasts below. The grawligs might sleep for some time. They had feasted late and probably guzzled brillum, a brewed ale that none of the seven high races would consume.

  Five, maybe ten minutes, and I’ll be in and out of that tunnel.

  She slipped back into the cave and into the stone burrow before she could think twice about what she planned to do.

  Thick, moist air settled on her skin as she groped her way in the dark. A sweet fragrance grew heavier as she moved farther and farther away from the cave. The dark, the smell, the damp, all screamed danger in her mind. Her arms and legs kept moving. She argued with herself, trying to force her body to back up and leave both the tunnel and the cave. None of her words, muttered softly in the cloying atmosphere, reached her ears.

  Enchantment! she realized with a groan. She could not resist whatever pulled her into depths of darkness.

  Trembling, she hoped fear would cause her to collapse.

  Then I’d stop. Then I couldn’t go one bit farther.

  But I probably couldn’t scoot backward either.

  I’d be stuck. Stuck until I die.

  3

  BLUE CAVERN

  Darkness in the tunnel pressed against Kale. Each time she tried to stop, her arms and legs ached to move forward. She bit back the whimper that rose to her lips.

  Whining never got me out of a lick of work as a village slave. It won’t help here…Focus on what’s ahead.

  Oh no! Somehow focusing on what’s ahead doesn’t seem the right thing to do. I don’t want to follow Mistress Meiger’s wise advice.

  I mustn’t give up. The things I learned in River Away are a part of me, and those things are good and strong and pure. What did she say? What did she say? ‘Focus on what’s ahead. Use what is behind.’ Use what is behind. There is always something from your past that will help you with your future. Use what is behind.

  Perhaps when she got to wherever this force pulled her, she would have a chance to defend herself.

  She tried to imagine herself swinging fists at some unseen foe. Bolley and Gronmere often fought in the square of River Away, showing off their talent as fighting mariones. She tried to picture how they held their short, muscular bodies as they prepared to lunge at each other. Instead, she saw Mistress Avion’s chicken coop.

  More enchantment. I can’t even see in my mind what I want to see.

  She groaned again and hunched down so that she was almost on her belly. She squirmed through the narrowing tunnel. The rough walls came closer together, and still she crept forward. The heavy smell of minerals choked her, and still she couldn’t stop. Inch by inch she moved into the darkness.

  I’m probably in the middle of this mountain by now.

  Her knees hurt from scraping over the uneven rock surface, and the tops of all ten toes felt raw. Instead of slowing down, she moved faster. The enchantment grew stronger, urging her on.

  I hope there’s no hungry beast waiting for me. I don’t want to be somebody’s breakfast.

  Her own stomach grumbled. Farmer Brigg’s bread and cheese were a distant memory.

  A soft, azure glow appeared ahead. She breathed a sigh of relief.

  The end of the tunnel. Whether it’s good or bad, it’s better than crawling through this tiny space, wondering and worrying.

  The bluish light continued to beckon. Excitement overcame the dread in her heart. The cramped passage abruptly opened up to a vast underground chamber. She twisted to put her legs in front of her. As she hopped down
into the cavern, she saw lights glistening from millions of tiny sapphirelike stones embedded in the rock walls. An additional glow emanated from icicle-like formations hanging from the ceiling and thrusting up from the floor.

  They look like sharp dragons’ teeth.

  The bubbling of an underground hot spring distracted her for a moment. The steam that rose from a foamy surface smelled sweet like syrup boiling in the spring after the trees had been tapped.

  The enchantment pulled her attention away from the odd formations in the cavern, and she walked unerringly through the maze of pointed columns to a niche in the opposite wall.

  Seven small, oval stones clustered together in a nest of hardened broer.

  Dragon eggs! Her hand went automatically to the pouch hanging around her neck. Now I know why I saw Mistress Avion’s chicken coop. This is too much like gathering eggs for breakfast to be real. Am I dreaming?

  She touched one of the glowing stones, felt its cold, rough surface, and saw the light turn part of her hand blue.

  I’m awake.

  She whipped the scarf from her neck and stretched it out on the floor. She picked up each egg and held it with wonder before placing it on the soft blue material. When she’d lined up all seven eggs, she sank to the ground beside them, sitting cross-legged and admiring her find.

  “Seven!” She breathed the word. She pulled out her treasure and opened the pouch. She placed the dragon egg she had been carrying next to the others. “Eight. I have eight dragon eggs.”

  Chief Councilman Meiger had had a fit when he saw one.

  “How did you find it, girl?” he’d asked.

  “I went to the stream to gather rushes for Mistress Avion. I waded into the water, and my skin began to tingle.”

  “Tingle?”

  “Yes, tingle.”

  “Go on, go on.” He placed his hands upon his ample hips and glared at her.

  Being a marione, he didn’t have much height, only a few more inches than Kale. But his ominous expression made the village slave feel small and vulnerable. She swallowed hard before continuing.

  “I waded under the bentleaf tree to the boulders. The egg was in a hole there.”

  “Where?”

  “Under the water.”

  “Under the water?”

  “In the rocks. I reached in and pulled it out.”

  “How did you know it was there?”

  “I didn’t.”

  “Why did you stick your hand in a hole?”

  “I don’t know.”

  “There could have been a blattig fish in there with sharp teeth ready to gobble your fingers.”

  Kale didn’t have an answer. She didn’t dare scoff at the fabled fish that ate children when they fell in the river. She hadn’t believed that old wives’ tale since she was old enough to gather reeds for basket making.

  “Humph.” Master Meiger sat down hard on the bench by his front door. “There has to be a meeting,” he’d said after a moment of contemplation. “We must decide what to do with you.”

  “May I keep the egg?”

  “What?”

  “May I keep the egg? It’s mine, isn’t it?”

  “See how much you know? Nothing! No one owns a dragon egg.”

  Kale had been disappointed. Besides her clothes, she didn’t have a thing that was her own. She told herself being allowed to keep the egg had been a small hope, and therefore, losing what wasn’t even hers had to be a small disappointment.

  “You can’t stay here.” The councilman’s words shocked Kale. “You have to go to Vendela, girl. But the village council must meet first.” He had stood and walked away, but more words drifted back to her as he shook his head and glowered at the ground. “Shocking! Never in River Away. Never this far south.”

  Kale looked at the blue scarf and the eggs nestled in its folds. She counted them again. In the pale light of the cavern, each shimmered a faint blue. In the sunlight she thought they would be alabaster white like the egg from River Away. Her breath seized in concern as she spied her treasured egg. She picked it up and examined it more closely. The egg from River Away had tangles of fine, dark lines crackled over the surface. The lines had not been there a month before.

  The council told me not to take it out of the pouch until I reached The Hall in Vendela. Could I have broken it just by taking it out? I thought it was too hard to break. What happens if I did break it? What will the wizards of The Hall do to a village girl who broke a dragon egg?

  She turned the egg over in her hand, hoping she would see some sign that this promise of a new life was not damaged. The dragon egg warmed and began its gentle thrum.

  “Maybe it is just the light in here.”

  She relaxed and enjoyed holding her treasure. After only a moment, her ease gave way to amazement. The weariness and aches that had overcome her body were vanishing. The hunger squeezing her middle was gone as well. Her eyes opened wide as she watched the small scrapes and scratches on her bloody toes and knees heal over. The damage to her body disappeared as if it had never been, but the torn cloth of her trousers was as ragged as ever.

  When the last break in her skin closed, she stared at the egg in her hand as if she had never seen it before. If her clothes hadn’t been tattered and bloody, she would have thought she’d dreamed the injuries. As her excitement grew, the egg jumped. She tightened her grip to keep it from falling.

  “I guess you aren’t broken,” she said with a grin.

  She tucked the egg back in its pouch and pushed the bag inside her shirt. She moved the other eggs onto the rock and tied a knot in the scarf about a foot from one end. She tucked one egg in next to that knot, folded the soft cloth around it. Using a length of thread from the unraveling edge of her tunic, she secured the egg and tied a knot. She placed another egg on her makeshift sling and tied it in. When finished, she had a ropelike object with seven bulges. She tied the egg-bearing blue scarf around her waist, next to her skin, under the tunic and shirt.

  “Now, let’s get out of here.”

  She stood and trotted across the floor of the cavern, neatly dodging around the glowing columns. Just as she reached the opening of the tunnel, she had a thought. She turned to search the area around her.

  Spying a fist-sized rock lying on the ground, she rushed to pick it up. Dozens of crystals shimmered from the rough stone. She smiled and carried it into the dark tunnel.

  The way back didn’t seem nearly as long. The enchantment, which had pulled her in, had disappeared when she touched the first egg. No dread of what was ahead plagued her thoughts. The rock glowed in the tunnel. She could see several feet ahead of her, although it was awkward to hold the rock and crawl.

  She pushed on, eager to get to the cave and climb out the top. The thought of the grawligs awakening helped her to hurry. She halted as soon as her head poked through the opening from the tunnel to the dimly lit cave.

  Three beams of light still fell in straight shafts from the outside. They’d shifted with the movement of the sun.

  Her ears told her something else had changed. She tilted her head, trying to identify the clamor. The grawligs no longer snored. Instead she heard metal clanging against metal, angry shouts, frenzied commands, and roars of fury. If she was not mistaken, sounds of battle echoed from all three openings of the cave.

  4

  FRIEND OR FOE?

  This time Kale raised her head out of the hole even more cautiously. Judging from the tumult, she had expected an army to be facing the grawligs. Kale spotted only three attackers—two mounted on dragons. Most of the noise came from the mountain ogres.

  The third attacker stood within a circle of the grawligs and felled them right and left, wielding a sling-type weapon with a spiked ball at the end. She recognized him as a fighting marione like the race of people populating River Away. His muscled frame, short and blocklike, stood solid against the onslaught. Known as farmers and fighters, the mariones could make any ground productive and defend any ground against invader
s.

  The dragons in the air were not as big as the Greater Dragons Kale had seen fly into the city. One large milky-white beast carried a giant warrior in armor and chain mail. As the dragon swooped and soared over the battling grawligs, the rider hurled lances with deadly aim. The insignia of a royal house emblazoned his helmet and riding gear. Two large quivers hung over the dragon’s shoulders just in front of the knight’s knees.

  Kale watched the other dragon’s aerobatics, stunned by her beauty. The red wings glistened as if covered with tiny rubies. Her chest and stomach pulsated in blue and purple shimmers. Sunlight reflected off blue-green scales on her head, tail, and hind feet.

  A small furry rider wore bright colors, almost as flamboyant as his mount. Shouting terse words Kale could not understand, the man cast yard-long lances among the grawligs.

  “I am Leetu Bends. We came to rescue you.”

  A female voice uttered the words directly into Kale’s thoughts. The o’rant girl jerked in surprise.

  A mindspeaker! She looked around trying to decide who had spoken.

  “Go now, while we have the grawligs’ attention. Go west, over the ridge. Follow the stream down the mountainside. We’ll catch up with you.”

  Kale still held the glittering rock she’d picked up in the cavern. She opened the neck of her shirt and dropped the stone under the frayed material. It settled against the bulge of dragon eggs tied to her waist.

  She pressed her palms into the rim of the hole and hoisted herself over the edge. Without stopping to watch the combat, she scrambled over the rocky terrain away from the fighting.

  A battle cry rent the air. Kale turned to see the rider of the smaller dragon slide off his saddle into a knot of grawligs.

  He fell!

  The miniature warrior, dressed in vibrant shades of green and gold, disappeared into the snarling melee of brown and black beasts.

  Kale imagined the little man ripped in pieces as the ogres tore at his arms and legs. She ran toward the clutch of tangled fighters until she stood on an outcropping just above. The grawligs made hideous noises. Dust rose, obscuring her view of the valiant little warrior. She saw flashes of color from his clothing, but not the man, nor how he defended himself.