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“All right. I’m ready.”

“You’ll come out on the west side of the turret. On the east side, in a courtyard, the grawligs are having a bit of a frolic. Try not to make an excess of noise.”

Kale remained silent.

Bardon looked at her cold expression. Just a moment ago she was all eagerness. “Now what’s wrong?”

“I’d forgotten how full of details you can be.”

“Details can save your life.”

“Details may make us too late to save your tumanhofer’s life.”

Bardon thought for a moment. “Right. Let’s go.”

45

GRAWLIG DINNER PARTY

Kale struggled to remain calm as the pressure of the gateway intensified. She tumbled head over heels and marveled that she felt as if she were falling up.

Bardon’s right. This is a rough ride. I hope the minors are all right.

She catapulted out of the gateway, frantically trying to grab something to hold on to. To her relief, she landed facedown on ground padded with thick, tall grass. She lifted her head and saw statuary blended into the bushes by the shadows of night.

Bardon plummeted out of the gateway and landed on top of her.

“Oomph. Ouch!” Too late, she remembered about being quiet.

The “shh” that followed her exclamation did not come from Bardon. He rolled off of her, and she sat up, looking for the source of the shushing sound.

Regidor sat on a stone bench next to a statue of three dragons. Her minor dragons escaped the confines of their pocket-dens and flew about her head, chittering to one another. Once the six little dragons had determined that Kale was not injured and none of them were hurt, they landed on the statue to examine the artwork.

Cold night air raised goose bumps on Kale’s arms. She rubbed her hands over them.

The squire sat, with his hands on his knees, staring up at the turret.

“You were gone long enough,” said Regidor in a low voice. “I became intrigued with the idea of moving the entry by shifting the edges along a guide wire. The process was meticulous but surprisingly speedy once I practiced a bit. I had time to slide the gateway down to a safer level.”

Bardon stood and dusted bits of grass off his clothes. “Thanks, Regidor. I’m sure you saved us a hard landing.” He turned and offered Kale a hand. “Do you know what he’s talking about?” he whispered as he pulled her to her feet.

“I believe the process would be something like slip-stitching in a piece of knitting.”

Bardon adjusted the scabbard that held his sword on his belt. “I still don’t have a clue as to how he did it, but if he is willing to spend more time here, the inside of that passage could use some work.”

Regidor shook his head. “No, I came to realize as I was finishing the move that I might have defaced a national treasure, a site of historical significance. That gateway must have been one of the first ever constructed.”

The meech focused on Kale. “What are you wearing, Kale? That isn’t exactly an appropriate outfit for a rescue.”

The material of her outfit shimmered in the moonlight.

Kale smoothed the fancy fabric over her arms and grimaced at her best friend. “Hello, Regidor, I’m glad to see you, too.”

He grinned and came to give her a hug. His long, strong forelegs embraced her with brotherly affection. The frown on Bardon’s face surprised Kale.

“Why are you looking daggers at me?” she asked him.

I’m not.

He turned away from Kale and Regidor and looked toward the grawligs’ playground. “They’ve settled down somewhat.”

Regidor gave Kale an extra squeeze and let go of her. “They’ve massed around the food, and their mouths are full. They’re feasting.”

“Not on our friend, I hope,” said Bardon.

“No, they’ve decided to play a game with him. They wrangled for some time over what game and what the rules would be, then decided to eat first. Grawligs are not known for their organizational abilities.”

“Then now would be a good time to rescue Bromptotterpindosset,” said Bardon. “If his captors are busy with food…”

“Right,” said Regidor.

Kale twirled in place, changing her outfit into more serviceable dark green leggings and