DragonLight (23 page)

“Did you really live in the meech colony?” asked Kale.

“Indeed, I did. Nice folks. Except…”

“Except?”

“They got this secret, and it’s best not to meddle with them or their secret.”

Gilda squared her shoulders. “You will tell us where they are located.”

“I might. I been thinking on it. But then I might not, either. I been asking Wulder, and He ain’t giving me a clue as to whether it’s nay or yea.”

Gilda’s hands went to her hips. “It had better be yea, and it had better be soon.”

“What are you going to do? Blow my house down?” He wagged his head. “You just be patient, missy. Be patient.”

         
29
         

G
O!

Bardon picked up a stack of small boards and felt a twinge in his back.
Not the stakes. I’m just out of shape. Not used to hard labor.

The villagers went to work, determined to rebuild the town on the existing foundation, but first the rubble had to be cleared. Bardon loaded wood into a wagon that another crew would assess to see what could be salvaged. Women sorted the usable pieces into piles. Older children, wearing thick gloves, took the shattered boards to the firewood heap.

By late morning, Bardon could feel his muscles protesting hard labor. He dropped his lumber with the rest, then put his hands against the small of his back and leaned against them, stretching his aching muscles from waist to shoulders. When he straightened, he rotated his head, pulling the soreness out of his neck.

Kale approached, stepping carefully, picking her path through the debris, and holding a cloth-wrapped package. His stomach rumbled. He hoped that bundle held food.

“Tired?” she asked as she traversed the last bit of uncleared space, keeping her eyes on where she placed her feet.

“Sore.”

Her head snapped up, and she eyed him with worry lining her brow.

“I don’t think it’s the stakes.”

“We haven’t been using the ointment.”

“We’ve only missed two nights. Falling onto the mat and sinking into sleep seems more important than ointment at the time.”

“Everyone is working themselves to a frazzle.” She smiled. “Help is coming.”

She unwrapped the cloth and handed him a sandwich.

“Bless you.” He leaned against the open tailgate of the wagon and took a big bite. “Who’s coming?”

“Regidor and I both left messages with Namee in the talking gateway, and we’ve received messages from him. He contacted Brunstetter’s people, and they have already sent a work party through the nearest regular gateway. It’s quite a walk from that point, but they should arrive by evening.”

“Then we will probably resume our journey in the morning.”

“That will please Gilda.” Kale hunched her shoulders and then let them slump. She leaned against the wagon beside Bardon. “Nothing much pleases our dear meech dragon these days.” She fished in a pocket and pulled out a corked bottle. “Here. Water from one of the wells.”

He took it gratefully. “The villagers have made progress if they’ve reopened a drinking well.”

She nodded.

“Are you all right?”

“Unsettled.”

“Why?”

“Gilda is alternately irate that the citizens of Arreach know she’s a dragon, and then she shows off. I’ll never understand her.”

“What did she do now?” He took another big bite of the sandwich. Tomato juice dribbled out the corner of his mouth. He used the back of his hand to wipe the red stain off his chin.

“She lit the cooking fire.”

“What’s so…” Bardon had a sudden image of Gilda pursing her lips and delicately blowing a stream of fire into a pile of tinder. “Oh!”

“Yes. Oh!” Kale put two fingers to her temple and rubbed. “Of course, the children were delighted. They wanted to know how she did it.”

“Did she tell them?”

Kale waved her hand in the air, imitating Gilda. “She said she just opens her mouth and blows.”

Bardon dropped his chin to his chest and chuckled. He then raised his eyes to his wife’s irritated glare. “That isn’t so bad, Kale. It’s entertaining for the children, and Gilda gets to be in the spotlight.” He shrugged. “The villagers realized in the aftermath of the earthquake that dragons had come among them. Regidor was too busy helping to keep up the pretense, and Gymn came to the rescue. For Regidor and Gilda to continue the charade is really pointless.”

“But we agreed to
not
draw attention to ourselves. To travel inconspicuously. That’s the whole reason Celisse and the others are so far away. That’s why only Gymn has been allowed in the village.” She stood as if to pace and then sat back down abruptly. “I sent eight minor dragons out to keep the eight riding dragons company, and she makes a show of her dragon-ness.”

“Dragon-ness?”

She gave him a scathing look but didn’t respond.

Bardon popped the last of his sandwich into his mouth, wiped his hand on his pant leg, and put his arm around her shoulders. When he finished chewing, he spoke.

“You know, this angst you’re feeling may all boil down to a Dragon Keeper being kept away from her dragons. Why don’t you go out and visit them?”

“I’m needed here.”

“Not so much, anymore.” As soon as the words were out of his mouth, Bardon wished he could pull them back. “I meant that you and Gymn have worked hard at the infirmary, and most of the patients are on their feet again.”

He studied her face, but his words did not seem to have had much effect. He opened his mind, hoping to catch what she was thinking. Something she had not shared with him troubled her.

“If she tells me one more time,” Kale muttered, “that she is carrying a meech egg, I’ll explode. Her baby is a meech. Her baby will assure the continuance of a superior race. Her baby will advance her husband’s standing in the community. What community? A colony she’s never even seen. What if it isn’t even out there?”

“It’s out there.” Bardon stood and brought her to her feet as well. He enveloped her in his arms and kissed her forehead. “Go visit the dragons. Play a little.”

Kale stamped her foot. “I’m going to.” She stood on tiptoe and kissed his chin. “Don’t get into trouble while I’m gone.”

He kissed her lips. “I was just about to tell you to stay out of trouble. Seems to me you’re the one who has a penchant for falling into awkward situations.”

“Well, then.” She leaned back and gave him a saucy grin. “If I don’t come back by nightfall, you can come rescue me.”

Kale had intended to take Toopka and Sittiponder with her, but the two children were more interested in their new friends in the village. Toopka had recovered from her spell, but she still had the hard spot in her chest. Gymn stayed behind as well. He had a patient who still required a healing dragon’s care.

Kale kept an eye on the second large hill along the road. After she passed that point, she would call Celisse to come pick her up. That meant Kale would have to ride bareback, but it would save a lot of time.

The earthquake had marred the countryside as well as leveling the small town. Rocks littered the path. Cracks zigzagged from one side of the road to the other and out across the land. Trees leaned at crazy angles, and some had toppled completely. Small, wild creatures hopped and skittered and chased about in the open. Kale brushed several of the animals’ minds and discovered they were still disoriented from the upheaval but intent on remaking their homes. A rabbit scampered off, still searching for a safe place to dig a burrow.

“Just like the people in the village. Everyone is determined to start anew.”

She ambled along, not in any particular hurry, but enjoying the colors of the fall flowers—rich oranges, bright yellows, and deep reds. A few of the trees bore the markings of chilly nights. High-flying, puffy clouds dotted the azure sky.

Kale topped the first rise and quickened her pace, driven by the urge to be with her dragons. As she came to the low place between the two ridges, she turned aside, following a path that looked as if animals rather than people had worn away the grass. Sheep droppings confirmed her assumption.

She stopped. Why had she left the road? She turned around and, just as quickly, turned back again. She took a deep breath, and as she let it out, a smile lifted her countenance.

“An egg.” She marched forward, allowing the pull to direct her steps.

Most of the trail remained intact, but occasionally, Kale scrambled up the slope to avoid a fresh outcropping of rock. Loose gravel and sharp, broken stones made these sections hazardous. The clouds gathered together and darkened. A wind replaced the gentler breezes.

“Great. I’m going to get wet.”

She kept tramping along the side of the hill. A light sprinkle fell just long enough to get her thoroughly damp. Ahead of her, a portion of the landscape had cratered. She tried to slow her steps, but the pull strengthened. “This egg is going to be in the middle of that crumbled hole. I just know it is.”

Looking down from the edge, Kale decided in the instant before her legs carried her down that she would much rather not retrieve this egg. Of course, she had no choice. The basin looked as big as the village of Arreach. She guessed a cavern had been under the ground and the ceiling caved in.

“This is sure to lead to trouble,” she said even as one foot went forward.

Shale sank under her, covering her feet with gritty dirt. She pulled one foot out, shook the debris off her boot, and hurriedly put it down as the other leg sank. Using the same technique she used to form a shield of protection over her, she laid out a clear sheet before her. The invisible board reminded Kale of the baking pans Taylaminkadot used to cook daggarts in the oven.

Standing on the platform, she jiggled each foot, trying to knock off as much of the gravelly bits of hard clay as she could. The shield slipped, carrying her down a few feet before it dumped her on her backside. Her hands shot out behind as she fell and hit the sharp little rocks.

“Ouch!”

She sat up, dusted her palms on her skirt, and inspected the damage. A few cuts seeped dots of blood. “Ooh. Where is Gymn when I need him?”

Reforming the shield, she made it big enough to sit on, and she arranged the configuration directly beneath her so that she rose out of the shifting shale. The urge to reach the egg overrode her natural caution. She thought she might be able to paddle her tiny craft down the hill. Shifting forward in order to dig her fingers into the fine-grained gravel, she realized her mistake. The shield slipped forward like a sled on snow, fast. She grabbed the frame, and her knuckles scraped the rocks.

“Ow!” Snatching her hands back, she concentrated on keeping her balance. For some reason, flying high above the ground on the back of a dragon was less harrowing than this.

The sled skidded across the few level feet at the bottom and started up the opposite incline. The egg was behind Kale now, and the pull to bring her to its side strengthened.

“I will not throw myself off this shield.”

Involuntarily, she leaned back. Kale screamed. “No! No! No!”

Her unusual form of transportation slowed, stopped, and began slipping down to the center of the crater once more.

She steeled herself, breathing deeply, muscles tensed, ready to roll off the shield during those few feet of level bottom. The front of the sled swung to the right so that Kale slid sideways. Rocks and gravel cascaded all around, racing her to the foot of the slope.

She squinted her eyes against the dust, wanting to close them, but afraid to. She’d picked up speed again, quickly approaching the base. She had to time this properly. She wrapped her arms around her chest.

“One, two, three!” She threw her weight to one side. The sled flipped up in the air and came down directly on top of her.

Kale curled up in a ball with her hands over her head. She had designed the shield to protect her from the sharp rocks. Her device domed and settled. The loose gravel tumbled against the outside of the shell, piling up until it nearly covered one side.