[ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]
damply around him. A lizard darted in and out of Fenworth’s beard.
The wizard’s words registered.
“Hatch?” She opened the small red pouch and slipped the egg into her hand.
A crack appeared. The wizards sat down with their backs to an armagot tree and
discussed the elements needed for a variety of spells. Kale gazed at the egg as it teetered
in her hand.
A large piece of shell broke away, and the tiny dragon somersaulted out into her palm.
His wet scales glistened in shades of yellow and orange. Kale frowned, trying to
remember what the textbook had said about the talents of the orange and yellow. He
rubbed his chin against the base of her thumb and then turned and wiggled on his back as
if he needed a good scratch.
“Laughter,” said Cam’s deep voice beside her. “His talent is laughter.”
“His name is Dibl,” said Kale.
“A good name.”
“Of what use is laughter on a quest?” asked Kale.
The dragon flipped over and put his small front legs down and proceeded to do a push-
up. He stretched his chin high and yawned. His tiny eyes opened, and he gazed into
Kale’s. The snap of connection secured their bond. Kale sighed with contentment. The
little dragon’s lips pulled back, showing two rows of tiny pointed teeth.
“He’s grinning!” said Kale.
“So he is,” agreed Cam.
Fenworth joined them.
“Best thing to have on a quest,” he announced. “Never know when a good laugh will save
the day. Glad you thought to bring him along, Kale.” He turned to the shorter, wetter
wizard. “She’s my apprentice, you know. A bit impulsive, but trainable, I think.” He
patted his beard, and a moth flew out. “Best we get on with this questing. Right, Cam?
Can’t say I want to spend the rest of my life in this forest. Unpleasant place sprouts
geysers and runaway vines.”
The old wizard took a look at the dragon stretched out in Kale’s hand, then threw back
his head and laughed.
22
A DIFFERENT DIRECTION
As Kale and the wizards returned from the forest, the entire camp came out to greet them.
The dragons knew of Dibl’s birth and spread the word. Paladin’s warriors from the seven
high races greeted the small yellow and orange dragon with smiles, laughter, and songs of
joy.
Kale sat on a log by a small copse of slender heirnot trees. As the troops of soldiers filed
past to look at the dragon, some admirers merely gazed upon Dibl curled in the palm of
her hand. Some stretched out a finger to touch him lightly.
As the afternoon progressed, the camp became quieter. Kale pulled her attention away
from the newborn long enough to notice that most of the troops had departed. The huge
greater dragons carrying supplies and men had spread their wings and lifted into the air
with quiet grace.
A shadow darkened her small spot at the edge of the meadow. She looked up to see
Brunstetter looming over her. His massive fourteen-foot frame completely blocked the
sun.
Brunstetter’s handsome face always looked gentle to her. Laugh lines fanned out from his
clear blue eyes across tanned cheeks. His lips often twitched with suppressed humor. And
Kale had seen this giant man tenderly scoop up a wounded kimen with as much care as a
mother lifting a hurting child.
She smiled back at her friend. “Where have they gone, Lord Brunstetter?”
“To their fighting positions.” His rumbling voice held a note of sorrow. “We engage the
enemy tomorrow.”
“Are you leaving too?”
“In a few moments.” Brunstetter touched the tip of his finger to her cheek. “We shall not
see each other for some time. I have a message from my heart to yours.”
She blinked back sudden tears and nodded.
“The gift of laughter before the storm strengthens our resolve. It is good that Dibl came
to us now.” Brunstetter moved his hand to rest it like a cap over her head. “You, little
Dragon Keeper, are important in Wulder’s plan. I would give you wisdom if it were like a
gem to be plucked from one of my crowns. But I can only whisper caution. I can only
say, ‘Be still when dark clouds threaten. Listen for the word of Wulder.’”
He stroked Dibl, then stood and strode away to his magnificent dragon.
The group around the campfire that night had dwindled to the same number as before the
landing of reinforcements. The peaceful atmosphere occasionally bubbled with friendly
laughter.
Kale held the sleeping Dibl in her hand while Gymn lay curled around her neck. His tail
flicked up to tickle her left cheek as he kept time to the music. Dar and Regidor had
served a cold meal of field greens and sliced jimmin poultry, flavored with a spicy
dressing. Now the two chefs played lighthearted tunes on various instruments from Dar’s
pack.
Toopka danced around them with Metta sometimes balancing on the little doneel’s head
and sometimes doing her own aerial dance above the merrymakers.
Leetu read a book, holding a lightrock to illuminate the text. Bardon, Librettowit, and Lee
Ark played a game of benders. The two wizards rested against Merlander’s massive side
and could be heard to say things like “Remember old Hoobenanny? I wonder where she
is now.”
Kale smiled. “I just thought of something funny, Gymn.”
The green dragon stretched and lifted his chin to rub against her neck.
“If Chief Councilman Meiger and his goodwife, Mistress Meiger, were here, they’d be
scowling and harrumphing and muttering about all these people. Master Meiger would
say any ninny knows that wizards don’t exist, and doneels and tumanhofers keep to
themselves. Mistress Meiger would say emerlindians don’t speak a language anyone can
understand, ’cept themselves.”
Little Dibl rolled into a ball in her cupped hand and spun himself like a top until he
twirled over the edge and fell into her lap.
“Dibl thinks it’s funny too.” She lifted him up and held his cool body next to her face.
She giggled. “I assumed the mariones in the village knew almost everything there was to
know. Now that I’ve been questing, I see they knew next to nothing, just like me. I’d like
to go back and show them who’s smarter now.” [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]
zanotowane.pl doc.pisz.pl pdf.pisz.pl szkicerysunki.xlx.pl
damply around him. A lizard darted in and out of Fenworth’s beard.
The wizard’s words registered.
“Hatch?” She opened the small red pouch and slipped the egg into her hand.
A crack appeared. The wizards sat down with their backs to an armagot tree and
discussed the elements needed for a variety of spells. Kale gazed at the egg as it teetered
in her hand.
A large piece of shell broke away, and the tiny dragon somersaulted out into her palm.
His wet scales glistened in shades of yellow and orange. Kale frowned, trying to
remember what the textbook had said about the talents of the orange and yellow. He
rubbed his chin against the base of her thumb and then turned and wiggled on his back as
if he needed a good scratch.
“Laughter,” said Cam’s deep voice beside her. “His talent is laughter.”
“His name is Dibl,” said Kale.
“A good name.”
“Of what use is laughter on a quest?” asked Kale.
The dragon flipped over and put his small front legs down and proceeded to do a push-
up. He stretched his chin high and yawned. His tiny eyes opened, and he gazed into
Kale’s. The snap of connection secured their bond. Kale sighed with contentment. The
little dragon’s lips pulled back, showing two rows of tiny pointed teeth.
“He’s grinning!” said Kale.
“So he is,” agreed Cam.
Fenworth joined them.
“Best thing to have on a quest,” he announced. “Never know when a good laugh will save
the day. Glad you thought to bring him along, Kale.” He turned to the shorter, wetter
wizard. “She’s my apprentice, you know. A bit impulsive, but trainable, I think.” He
patted his beard, and a moth flew out. “Best we get on with this questing. Right, Cam?
Can’t say I want to spend the rest of my life in this forest. Unpleasant place sprouts
geysers and runaway vines.”
The old wizard took a look at the dragon stretched out in Kale’s hand, then threw back
his head and laughed.
22
A DIFFERENT DIRECTION
As Kale and the wizards returned from the forest, the entire camp came out to greet them.
The dragons knew of Dibl’s birth and spread the word. Paladin’s warriors from the seven
high races greeted the small yellow and orange dragon with smiles, laughter, and songs of
joy.
Kale sat on a log by a small copse of slender heirnot trees. As the troops of soldiers filed
past to look at the dragon, some admirers merely gazed upon Dibl curled in the palm of
her hand. Some stretched out a finger to touch him lightly.
As the afternoon progressed, the camp became quieter. Kale pulled her attention away
from the newborn long enough to notice that most of the troops had departed. The huge
greater dragons carrying supplies and men had spread their wings and lifted into the air
with quiet grace.
A shadow darkened her small spot at the edge of the meadow. She looked up to see
Brunstetter looming over her. His massive fourteen-foot frame completely blocked the
sun.
Brunstetter’s handsome face always looked gentle to her. Laugh lines fanned out from his
clear blue eyes across tanned cheeks. His lips often twitched with suppressed humor. And
Kale had seen this giant man tenderly scoop up a wounded kimen with as much care as a
mother lifting a hurting child.
She smiled back at her friend. “Where have they gone, Lord Brunstetter?”
“To their fighting positions.” His rumbling voice held a note of sorrow. “We engage the
enemy tomorrow.”
“Are you leaving too?”
“In a few moments.” Brunstetter touched the tip of his finger to her cheek. “We shall not
see each other for some time. I have a message from my heart to yours.”
She blinked back sudden tears and nodded.
“The gift of laughter before the storm strengthens our resolve. It is good that Dibl came
to us now.” Brunstetter moved his hand to rest it like a cap over her head. “You, little
Dragon Keeper, are important in Wulder’s plan. I would give you wisdom if it were like a
gem to be plucked from one of my crowns. But I can only whisper caution. I can only
say, ‘Be still when dark clouds threaten. Listen for the word of Wulder.’”
He stroked Dibl, then stood and strode away to his magnificent dragon.
The group around the campfire that night had dwindled to the same number as before the
landing of reinforcements. The peaceful atmosphere occasionally bubbled with friendly
laughter.
Kale held the sleeping Dibl in her hand while Gymn lay curled around her neck. His tail
flicked up to tickle her left cheek as he kept time to the music. Dar and Regidor had
served a cold meal of field greens and sliced jimmin poultry, flavored with a spicy
dressing. Now the two chefs played lighthearted tunes on various instruments from Dar’s
pack.
Toopka danced around them with Metta sometimes balancing on the little doneel’s head
and sometimes doing her own aerial dance above the merrymakers.
Leetu read a book, holding a lightrock to illuminate the text. Bardon, Librettowit, and Lee
Ark played a game of benders. The two wizards rested against Merlander’s massive side
and could be heard to say things like “Remember old Hoobenanny? I wonder where she
is now.”
Kale smiled. “I just thought of something funny, Gymn.”
The green dragon stretched and lifted his chin to rub against her neck.
“If Chief Councilman Meiger and his goodwife, Mistress Meiger, were here, they’d be
scowling and harrumphing and muttering about all these people. Master Meiger would
say any ninny knows that wizards don’t exist, and doneels and tumanhofers keep to
themselves. Mistress Meiger would say emerlindians don’t speak a language anyone can
understand, ’cept themselves.”
Little Dibl rolled into a ball in her cupped hand and spun himself like a top until he
twirled over the edge and fell into her lap.
“Dibl thinks it’s funny too.” She lifted him up and held his cool body next to her face.
She giggled. “I assumed the mariones in the village knew almost everything there was to
know. Now that I’ve been questing, I see they knew next to nothing, just like me. I’d like
to go back and show them who’s smarter now.” [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]