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“Oh no.” She dropped down to her knees, looking for Granny Noon’s gift.
“What is it now?” asked Lyll.
“I lost the coin Granny Noon gave me.”
“You won’t need that either. Honestly, Kale, step out of this dismal existence. Why be at
the beck and call of a motley group of misfits when you can live in the splendor of wealth
and power granted by Wulder Himself to the Allerion family? Come!”
Lyll extended her milk-white hand once more, and Kale saw the pointed tips of nails
painted a purple hue to match her mother’s gown.
She ducked her head and stared at the ground. The coin lay among dry, crisp leaves. A
tendril of smoke spiraled up from the edge of the metal disk. With a crackle, the smoke
expanded and swirled into a thin tongue of fire. Kale’s eyes widened as the small flame
encircled the coin and grew taller.
Gymn and Metta squeaked their alarm. With a whoosh of cold air, Kale’s mother
disappeared. Kale stomped on the fire with her boot. In a matter of seconds, the bower
under the bentleaf tree was dark and silent.
She squared her shoulders and fought the fear that almost buckled her knees. Dibl and
Ardeo peeked out of the cape. Ardeo gave a trill and dove to the charred ground. He
picked up a bug and popped it in his mouth.
Kale gave a nervous giggle. “Roasted roach seems to be Ardeo’s preferred meal.”
She bent over and carefully picked up the shiny metal disk. No heat remained. She
clenched the cold coin in her hand and felt no pain. She tightened her grip and still did
not feel the bite into her flesh that had made her drop it before.
Opening her hand, Kale stared at the small piece of metal. “Now what does this mean?”
41
HOMECOMING
Kale stepped out from under the shelter of the bentleaf tree and breathed the crisp, clear
air. Stars pricked the velvet sky with brilliant pinpoints. The minor dragons danced in the
air, displaying their joyful mood.
She sensed Bardon nearby and searched for him. He stepped from behind another
bentleaf tree. Armed with his sword and a bow, he looked ready to defend the camp.
“Are you on guard, Bardon?”
“It’s always good to be prepared.”
“You were watching out for me.”
He nodded.
“Did you see her?”
“I got a glimpse.” He hesitated. “She certainly dresses well.”
Kale laughed.
Bardon watched the dragons’ aerial ballet. “The dragons are happy. Does that mean you
are as well?”
“I am. Isn’t that odd?”
“Because your mother was here, and she is a…disturbing person?”
“Yes.” Kale surveyed the countryside. The devastated field didn’t look so harsh in the
mellow light of the moon. She sighed at the beauty still visible in the roll of the gentle
hills. “I was contemplating how superior I would feel when I see the people I used to
serve. Then my mother showed up, and she really is important. And I don’t like her.”
Dibl landed on Bardon’s shoulder, then flew off again. Metta’s voice broke into a song of
contentment.
Bardon put a hand on Kale’s shoulder and guided her to sit on a boulder. He crouched
beside her. “So why do you feel so at ease?” he asked.
“Because I didn’t go with her. I knew I didn’t have to. And tomorrow I’m going to like
seeing Mistress Meiger. I’ll be seeing friends, not masters.”
She gasped as a light appeared out of one of the bentleaf trees. “Kimens,” she whispered.
Bardon sat on the grass and leaned against the boulder. They watched as more of the tiny
creatures slipped out into the open. They danced beneath the minor dragons and sang
with Metta. Their clothing glowed in shades of lavender, yellow, and gold.
Unlike the first time Kale had seen the little people dance, she did not feel compelled to
join them. Instead, she basked in the pleasure of their simple song and beautiful dance.
Bardon felt it too. The strong link between them startled Kale out of her reverie. From her
perch on the big rock, she looked at Bardon seated on the grass. She expected to see his
back or shoulder touching her. But six inches separated him from her knee. Still, a steady
vibration emanated from the lehman. The sensation felt like a cat’s purr, and she realized
it matched, thrum for thrum, a similar tremor in her being.
Harmonizing notes to Metta’s song recaptured her attention. Across the stubby field,
Librettowit, Regidor, and Dar stood with musical instruments. The librarian played an
oboe, the meech dragon played a flute, and the doneel drew a bow across the strings of a
violin. Toopka skipped into the open area and joined the dancers.
From the center of the field, among the kimen dancers, a radiance grew. Like the colors
of a rainbow, a pool of light ebbed and flowed, pulsating with the chords of music. With
each pulse, the borders extended out and returned, but the height of the image grew taller
and continued to stretch upward. When the melody ended, a rainbow column soared far
above their heads. For a moment the lights quivered, and then the image streaked upward,
disappearing like a comet into the heavens.
“What was that?” asked Bardon.
“Worship,” Kale answered, her voice still hushed with awe.
Bardon walked with her back to the tents. None of the questers spoke as they went to
their beds. The serenity following the musical interlude hovered over them like a peaceful
blanket.
Toopka settled on her pallet. But as soon as Kale pulled up her own covers and nestled
down to sleep, the little doneel popped out of bed, scooted across the space between
them, and slipped under the blanket. Kale cuddled her little friend, and they slumbered
peacefully through the night.
The dawn exposed a glistening frost upon the ground once more. The sun’s rays infused
thin banks of clouds with rich coral colors. The wood smoke from Dar’s cooking fire
mixed with heavy spices he’d sprinkled in mugs of tea. Toopka hovered close, hoping to
be the first to fill her plate with fried mullins.
The dragons tolerated the cold but preferred warmer weather. They stroked the air with
their leathery wings to stir their sluggish blood. Anyone who did not know this ritual [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]