DragonKnight - Donita K. Paul [143]
Fenworth’s eyes narrowed as if he read the squire’s thoughts. “Well, boy, where do you wish to go? What do you wish to do? And when do you suggest we get started?”
Bardon spoke with authority, “We shall return to the castle and endeavor to free the knights, Wizard Fenworth. And now seems to be an appropriate time to get started.”
“That way, then.” Fen pointed his staff in the direction they had come from and marched off, leaving the rest to follow.
Cam doused the fire Regidor had provided.
“Wait!” Fen came tramping back. “I smell soup. Delicious Regidor soup. Let’s eat before we go.”
Bowls came tumbling out of nowhere, aimed at each member of the party. If they failed to catch the dishes coming their way, they circled around and returned to be caught on the second try. Kale ladled up the brew. The pot emptied only when the last person’s appetite had been satisfied.
Fenworth again set out abruptly, commanding the others to “step lively.” Toopka scampered through the burrows, content to play chase with the minor dragons and to pick up smaller lightrocks of different colors. When they reached the trek through the forest, she slowed some. As they trudged up a mountain path, she began to complain.
Regidor picked her up, swung her around to land on his back, and spread his wings. Toopka giggled and wrapped her arms around his neck. The meech dragon took to the air and soared high, soon disappearing ahead of them.
Fenworth hollered back to Bardon. “Squire, did you say he could do that?”
“No,” he answered.
“Didn’t think so. Cheeky rascal. He’s been a hard one to raise. Too sure of himself. Cocky. Usually right. A horrible trait in an apprentice.”
They reached the courtyard of Strot’s castle an hour later.
Fenworth stretched his arms over his head, and several birds flew out of his sleeves. “Exercise!” He lowered his arms, and a rabbit, a mouse, and a squirrel popped out from under the robe’s hem. “Exercise is good for mind, body, and spirit.” He sat on one of the stone benches and promptly went to sleep, turning into a stunted tree after the second snore. Pat scrambled out of the tangled branches and perched on top.
Toopka barreled around a corner of the building. “You’re here!” she shouted. “Regidor found a door. He says it’s the main entrance to the castle. But he needs the other wizards to help him get it open. Follow me.” She dashed back the way she had come.
Librettowit and Bardon gently lifted the tree off the bench and carried it. Kale followed with the others close behind. A muted snore reverberated within the trunk.
Toopka skipped back to hold Kale’s hand. “Do you know what?”
“No. What?”
“You can’t tell this is a castle from the air. We only knew it was the right place because Regidor saw the waterfall. You can’t see the statues or the benches or the walkways. Nothing! And then Regidor couldn’t find the door. He had to use his forefoot instead of his eyes. He closed his eyes and walked around the mountain with his forefoot on the rock. I followed. Then he found it. I couldn’t see it. He said he didn’t see it, but he felt the gap in the stone. I didn’t see the gap in the stone, but he showed me and showed me and finally I saw it. Hurry up.”
She ran ahead.
Bardon looked over his shoulder at Kale. “You know, she doesn’t seem one bit older than she did three years ago.”
“She has learned to read a little,” Kale said.
“She can be quite helpful in the kitchen,” added Taylaminkadot.
Librettowit shifted his burden and said, “Emerlindians and doneels have a longer maturing period. They’re considered youngsters for almost a hundred years. Tumanhofers and o’rants mature in eighteen to twenty years. Mariones’ and urohms’ maturation period is about the same, but their life span is considerably shorter than the other high races. Kimens mature rapidly, in three or four years. No one outside of the kimen race is sure about