DragonLight

by Donita K. Paul

“She doesn’t know Mot Angra is deep in the mountain below that cave.”

  One of the children might have told her.

  “I don’t think Sittiponder would let her go.”

  She can be so foolhardy!

  Kale’s chest contracted into a heavy knot, and she realized how much she loved the exasperating doneel. The intense feeling surprised her on top of the second realization that she had purposely guarded herself from having emotional strings attached to this child.

  She repeated a silent plea to Gymn, and frustration hammered her heart when his soothing thoughts did not respond with an assurance that all was under control. He’s too far away. Where could those three have gone off to? She called to the minor dragons and sent them out as a search team.

  She caught up to Tulanny. “I’ve sent the minor dragons to look for Toopka and Sittiponder. They’ll find them.”

  “Those little beauties are such wonderful creatures. Doesn’t it amaze you what Wulder has made?”

  “Always.”

  They walked a few paces, and Bardon spoke. “Mistress Tulanny, you don’t seem to be put off by the minor dragons, yet I haven’t seen any dragons except the meech here in Bility.”

  “That’s right. They don’t like the cold.”

  Kale and Bardon exchanged a look over the answer they had heard before, recently, but referring to minnekens, not dragons.

  “In Amara,” said Bardon, “there is a group of people who hate dragons and want to eliminate them.”

  “Maybe they fear the dragons will become like Mot Angra.”

  “Other than those in this colony, who among the high races would know about Mot Angra?”

  Mistress Tulanny cast a sharp glance at Bardon, lowered her head, and trudged on without a word.

  As they turned a corner, they heard a commotion.

  Kale hurried her step. “Maybe someone has found Toopka and Sittiponder.”

  They turned another corner and found a sight they least expected to see. Surrounded by children, Brunstetter, Sir Dar, and Lee Ark tried to answer as many questions as were hurled at them.

  “Oh,” said Tulanny. “More outsiders. I’ll go tell the elders that we have more visitors.” The meech matron left in a hurry, heading back to the center of the village.

  Sir Dar extracted himself from the young crowd and came to Kale.

  She grabbed his sleeve. “Toopka is missing.”

  “She always shows up.”

  “No, Sir Dar, this is serious. She’s been ill and acting strangely. It’s that growth in her chest, the one we discovered at Arreach. It hasn’t grown, but Gymn says it’s gotten hard.” She sniffed and wiped a tear from her cheek. “It’s baffled Gymn.”

  Sir Dar patted her hand. “Calm down, Kale.”

  Kale took a deep breath. “Where have you been? All sorts of horrible things have been happening.”

  A grin spread over Sir Dar’s face. “We stormed the palace and cleared the Followers out of Paladin’s hair.”

  Kale squeezed his arm. “Is it true Paladin was a prisoner in one of his own cells?”

  “Ha! Yes. The Followers told everyone that there had been attempts to assassinate Paladin, so he had been put in a ‘safe place’ and was conducting business as usual from seclusion.” Sir Dar winked. “They didn’t realize they spoke a partial truth. Paladin had his own means of communication from the cell, although the Followers meant to cut him off from his people. Paladin coordinated his own escape while they thought he couldn’t contact anyone.”

  “How?” asked Bardon.

  “Animals, mostly the castle cat and birds.” Sir Dar smiled. “We brought N’Rae in to help receive and send messages through creatures. No one thought to hinder their comings and goings. Paladin continued to collect information and issue orders right under the noses of those hypocrites.”

  The ground shook, and the children fell into their protective curl. The tremor eased off quickly. Before the children could jump up, Lee Ark and Brunstetter crossed the short distance to join Kale, Bardon, and Sir Dar. The children ignored the newcomers. At some preordained signal that Kale could not discern, they uncovered their heads and rose to their feet. Then they scampered off in various directions without a word.

  Lee Ark looked around, his brow furrowed. “Should we prepare for an emergency of some kind?”

  Bardon shook his head. “It’s the dragon, Mot Angra. The meech colony has sworn to keep the monster under a potent spell. But it has been generations since they first undertook the responsibility, and frankly, they’re losing their power over the beast. Each time he attempts to wake up, his great weight can be felt through the earth. He triggered the earthquake we experienced in Arreach.”

  “And the children?” asked Lee Ark.

  Kale suddenly remembered Lee Ark’s many children and watching him play with them when she visited his house.

  “It’s a sort of safety measure, I think,” she said. “They protect themselves, then when nothing happens, they report to their parents to assure them that no one was hurt.”

  Brunstetter surveyed the town, looking over the roofs from his great height. “It doesn’t look like an earthquake devastated this place.”

  “No,” said Bardon. “The tremors move along a fault line running south. Very little of the quake is felt here.”

  “Is it also true,” asked Brunstetter, “that the scales of this Mot Angra turn into the black dragons?”

  “Yes, and the elders say that when the dragon is fully awake, he can direct where they attack. However, when he stirs in his sleep, they fall off, then fly away with no particular destination.”

  “Unless they see a Dragon Keeper,” put in Kale. “Can we look for Toopka? I am very worried.”

  “Certainly,” said Lee Ark. “We will join the search. Who is already looking, and what area are they covering?”

  “I don’t know.” Kale clasped her hands together, twisting her fingers against one another. “The kimens, the minor dragons, some of the villagers. I don’t know how many or where they’ve gone.”

  Bardon pointed toward the few children who had already reported to their parents and come back to watch the strangers. “Mistress Tulanny said that some children saw Toopka, Sittiponder, and Gymn heading south.”

  Lee Ark looked at the woods. The cold nip in the air had decorated the trees with orange, crimson, and gold. “We just came from the south through that path. We didn’t see them, so let’s concentrate on the western side of the canyon.”

  Kale, Bardon, Brunstetter, Lee Ark, and Sir Dar lined up along the edge of the woods. Lee Ark gave instructions that they were to march forward, staying within reach of one another.

  “Concentrate on the area directly in front of you and at your sides. We’ll sweep through the woods until we find them.”

  Their feet crunched in fallen leaves. The forest smelled of old rain, fresh breezes, and autumn leaves. Occasionally, a small creature, disturbed by their advance, scuttled off through the underbrush.

  In fifteen minutes, Kale’s legs stung. The muscles across the small of her back burned. Every once in a while a cramp across her abdomen claimed her attention. She kept walking, hoping Bardon would not notice how tired she was. They all called for the children and Gymn.

  Through the trees, Tieto flew to meet them, turning somersaults in the air as he twittered joyfully. The minor dragons had found the children, but his excitement tossed the images he tried to send Kale into a whirlwind. She didn’t understand much of what he tried to relay. She got the gist of his news. Toopka slept in a hollow. Gymn said she was all right. They must hurry to see the great thing.

  They followed him through the trees, going quickly now that they had no fear of overlooking the youngsters. They came to a place where trees parted and gave the sun a chance to shine clear to the forest floor. The kimens and minor dragons had gathered in a circle at the tiny meadow’s edge. With them, a smattering of Bility citizens stood in silence.

  Toopka lay in a ball amon
g a bed of dry leaves. Sittiponder sat with his back to a tree, his full attention on the sleeping doneel. His pale, wide-eyed expression drew Kale to sit beside him.

  “What happened, Sittiponder? Why are you out here?”

  “Toopka said Wulder called her to come. And He did.” Sittiponder’s head did not move. Kale was accustomed to the blind tumanhofer not looking directly at her when he spoke. She took his hand. The other hand held something in a tight fist.

  “Tell me what happened.”

  “We stopped here. Toopka wanted to rest. Then He came. I saw Him, Kale. Not really, though. I saw the light. Most of Him was light, but I saw His hands reach out and touch Toopka.

  “Wulder laid her down, and she went right to sleep. He opened her chest. It wasn’t bloody or anything, and the light was too bright to see much. He took out an egg and gave it to me to hold. He passed His hand over Toopka, and she was the same as she had been before. Not even her clothes were torn or moved or anything. Wulder pulled His hands back into the light, so I couldn’t really see Him anymore, just the light.

  “And He spoke to me. He said to keep the egg until she woke up and then give the egg to her. She would know what to do when the time came.”

  Sittiponder’s head tilted forward, and he opened his fist. On his palm lay a small egg, smaller than most bird eggs. Its white shell contained swirls of palest pink and blue.

  “It’s beautiful,” Kale said. She searched for words to describe its uniqueness to the blind child. Toopka usually came up with fantastic descriptions, but she still slept. “Its surface is more like a pearl than an egg. Or maybe, an opal.” Frustration stopped Kale. How would the boy know what a pearl or an opal looked like?

  “I know.” Sittiponder turned his face up to Kale.

  She gasped. “Sittiponder, you’re looking at me. You’re seeing. You…you see me, don’t you?”

  The boy smiled. “He touched my eyes before He left.”

  He stood and smiled at the fringe of the small glade where the kimens, meech, and dragons waited. He grinned at Bardon and Brunstetter. He winked at Sir Dar.

  The realization that he actually saw them dawned on the spectators. The kimens, with Metta, burst into song and broke from the ring to dance over the brilliantly colored carpet of leaves. The dragons frolicked in the air. Brunstetter picked up Sittiponder and put him on his shoulder. The urohm wove in and out of the trees with the others following in a parade of celebration.

  “Hey!” Toopka’s loud voice penetrated the commotion. “Hey! What’s going on?” She stood where she had been lying, with her fists planted against her hips, and her face twisted up in a scowl.

  “Put me down, please,” said Sittiponder.

  Brunstetter set the tumanhofer on his feet.

  Sittiponder ran to Toopka. “This is yours. Wulder took it out of your chest.”

  He handed her the egg. She took it, but her eyes were on his face. “You…?”

  “Yes!”

  “That’s—” She shook her head, at a loss for words.

  Sittiponder grinned, picked her up in his sturdy arms, and twirled her around.

  Contentment filled Kale as she watched. Toopka would be all right. Sittiponder could see. Her friends had arrived to help with whatever came up. Paladin was back on his throne.

  “Let’s go home,” she said.

  Sittiponder put the doneel down.

  “Home? Not yet,” said Toopka. “We have to go back to the meech village.”

  Kale grinned. “Yes, that is what I meant.”

  Toopka’s head tilted to one side, and her eyes looked as if she were seeing something far, far away. “I think I know where my home is.”

  “You do?”

  She nodded her head decisively. “I do. But I can’t go there yet. I have work to do.”

  “What work, Toopka?” asked Bardon.

  “Saving the world.” She shook her head till her ears bounced. “Someone’s gotta do it.”

  46

  WAR COUNCIL

  A chill breeze blew through the open window. The crackling flames in the fireplace radiated heat in vain. Only one side of the room held the warmth. In the same official chamber where they had gathered earlier, the meech dragon leaders met with Kale, Bardon, and Seezle. Lee Ark and Sir Dar joined them. Brunstetter sat outside an open window. The mothers of the village had to drag their children away. Not only was the giant fascinating, but he encouraged the youngsters to play.

  The impromptu council sat around a huge table with platters of food down the center. The scrumptious meal was largely neglected. The serious prospect of Mot Angra breaking loose dampened their appetites.

  The meech leaders’ attitude puzzled Bardon. He expected them to dominate the meeting. This was their territory and a problem they knew intimately. Yet they hung back, seemingly unwilling to get started. When the outsider Lee Ark took charge, Bardon sat back in his chair and watched, wondering if part of the colony’s problem could be related to a lack of direction.

  Lee Ark’s military bearing shone through even as he sat in the old wooden chair. “The first thing to consider is whether or not we can stop this beast before he wakes. Can he be killed?”

  Laire shook his head. “He can be annoyed greatly by sticking spears into him. He can be made very sick by poisoning his food. The results of that tactic are extremely messy. The last person to cut his throat learned Mot Angra heals quicker than he sheds blood. And that man became Mot Angra’s dinner.”

  Lee Ark considered this for a moment and then asked, “What is it you do to keep him sleeping?”

  Anyeld scooted back in his chair and sat straighter. “We never let him get too hungry. He doesn’t have a tremendous appetite, just a large animal such as a cow or a mountain sheep each week keeps him satisfied. He never fully wakes to gobble the food. The same with water. He receives ten buckets of water each day in a trough. He’s been known to rouse enough to eat one of the carriers bringing the buckets down.”

  Lee Ark scowled. “Surely, there is something else.”

  Bardon looked at the five meech men, hoping one would have the answer.

  Seslie cleared his throat. “There’s the singing.”

  Ellyk scoffed. “The singing? That’s more to keep up the courage of the men who carry down the water or the carcass for Mot Angra’s dinner. Few of us even remember what the words mean.” Ellyk snorted. “It’s not as if our songs are a lullaby.”

  “What do you sing?” asked Seezle.

  “Old relics,” answered Seslie. “Songs from the old world in an ancient language.”

  Seezle’s face lit up. “May I hear one?”

  “Wait,” said Kale. “If this is important, Metta should be here.”

  Lee Ark nodded, and Kale silently called for the purple minor dragon. A moment later she flew past Brunstetter and in the window. She landed on Kale’s shoulder.

  Kale got the impression that the minor dragon was flattered to be summoned to an important council meeting.

  “I don’t understand,” said Ellyk. “Why is this minor dragon needed?”

  “She’s a singing dragon,” explained Kale. “She has remarkable talents when it comes to anything pertaining to music, and particularly to songs.”

  Ellyk’s eyes squinted in skepticism, but he didn’t say anything else.

  Seslie said, “Should I sing?”

  The visitors nodded their heads, while his fellow meech dragons looked bored.

  In a mellow baritone, Seslie sang,

  “O-gitaks to who

  Derfor ess soo

  Foress mur sees

  Indoors forests

  Rivers.

  Ike awl to who

  Der indess

  Rest who

  Der and sir

  Me and set

  Me inbraw de

  Plae sess.”

  “Enough,” said Ellyk. “The words are nonsense to us now, although I am sure they once meant something. Our parents were diligent to teach them to us.
”

  “Metta?” Kale turned her head, and her cheek rubbed against Metta’s outstretched wing.

  “What does she say?” asked Lee Ark.

  “The song is sacred, but she cannot pull the words out of the meech’s memory because these are the only words he knows. She is sure the lyrics are wrong.”

  Lee Ark addressed the meech. “Are the words written anywhere?”

  “It is said,” Laire answered, “that in the old world there were books with words from Wulder in them. None of the books came with us through the portal, so generation after generation learned what we could from what our parents remembered.”

  “Kale,” said Bardon, “have Filia and Metta put their heads together. I think what Seslie has sung is a song that is recorded in the middle book of the Tomes. The tune almost sounds like something I should remember. The words tease me like I should recognize them.”

  Metta landed on his shoulder and trilled notes softly in his ear.

  “Yes, that’s it. Can you find the words?”

  Lee Ark stood. “It is doubtful that our words to a song will be the same as those from another world. But Filia and Metta, I’d appreciate your pursuance of that idea. Gentlemen, I would like to visit the lair of the dragon. It would be good to know if there is some strategic advantage we can gain from the physical setting.”

  Kale caught Bardon’s arm as he started to rise. “I’m going to stay here. Walking through the woods is hard on my back and legs.”

  He kissed her on the forehead. “Fine, just don’t eat all the delicacies while we are away.”

  “Be careful, Bardon.”

  “I will.”

  As Lee Ark led his council toward the cave, Bardon engaged Seslie in conversation. “I’m curious about your history. What did your people do when you first came through the portal?”

  “The first order of business was to subdue Mot Angra. Unfortunately, he ate quite a few of our people in those early days. But once Mot Angra’s belly is full, he chooses a place to relax. He then acts rather like an intoxicated fool until he drops off to sleep. According to the legend, everyone worked together to move him a short distance into the cave.”