Dragonquest - Donita K. Paul [27]
Along with the hideous vision of the swamp creatures, Kale conjured up her terror and desperation as she and her comrades battled a force much stronger than their own. When she reached the despair she had felt at the end of the struggle, she jerked away from the emotions, cutting short the glimpse of horror she had given Regidor and Toopka.
Toopka clasped Regidor’s arm with both hands, her eyes wide with fear. Regidor looked pale but stood straight, clenching his jaw.
Toopka shuddered. “They’re bigger than I thought.”
Kale opened her arms, and the doneel ran to her. Scooping the little girl up, she hugged her close. “Who told you about mordakleeps?”
“Sittiponder. He’s an orphan tumanhofer, and he used to live in the mountains, and he knows all sorts of stories about mordakleeps and grawligs and bisonbecks and all the seven low races and all the seven high races, too. He sits under the wooden steps of an old warehouse near the docks. He’ll tell you a story if you bring him something to eat. He’s blind.”
“Oh dear,” said Kale.
“Harrumph,” said Regidor, sounding exactly like Fenworth. “Seems you better learn to read so you can tell if his stories are true or not.”
“Oh, pooh on your old reading. I don’t have to read ’cause you’ll read stories to me. It’ll save time if only one of us is in charge of finding the best books.”
“I won’t always be around.”
“Why not?”
“I’m going to grow up.”
“Well, I’m gonna grow up too.”
Regidor shook his head. “I’m going to grow up fast, and you’re going to grow up slow. Pretty soon I’ll be an adult, and you’ll still be a baby.”
“That’s not true!”
“Yes, it is.”
“Can’t be. I’m already not a baby.”
“You’re the one clinging to Kale’s neck.”
Toopka squirmed out of Kale’s arms and plunked herself down on the floor with her fists on her hips. “If we were in Vendela, you’d need me to take care of you. You wouldn’t know where to get food or where to sleep or who to avoid to stay out of trouble. You’d be hopeless unless I took you by the hand and led you around.”
“Stop!” Kale shouted. “This is foolish arguing. Only fools argue foolishly, and you aren’t fools. Not another word out of either of you!”
Another quote directly from Mistress Meiger’s lips, but Kale was too agitated to care. She strode across the room and sat down in Fenworth’s chair. With her elbows on her knees, she put her chin on her fists.
“I’m going to try to find out what’s going on.”
Regidor and Toopka followed her. They stood on each side of the armchair, watching her with wide eyes.
“You shouldn’t sit there,” said the dragon. “Fenworth gets hopping mad if he finds me in his chair.”
“Please be quiet,” Kale answered. “I’m concentrating.”
“What are you concentratin’ on?” asked Toopka.
“Dar.”
Regidor dropped to the floor and sat crossed-legged by her knee. “Are you mindspeaking?”
“No, just trying to see what they’re doing. They’re fighting, and they don’t need me talking to them.” The rapid succession of images she saw in her mind was hard to sort out. Questions from Toopka and Regidor interfered.
“Regidor, close your eyes and see what impressions you pick up. Toopka, be quiet for a bit.”
Toopka put her elbows on the arm of the chair and put her chin on her fists, mimicking Kale.
Kale couldn’t touch Wizard Fenworth’s mind at all. She knew from past experience that he guarded his thoughts with a powerful spell. When she sought Librettowit, she found a mixture of rants against mordakleeps and the wizard. Lehman Bardon’s mind was almost devoid of thought, but she could feel energy flowing into decisive moves of combat. He performed with drilled precision. Dar fought from beneath a protective shell, his movements not as regimented as the warrior trained at The Hall.
It was easiest to touch the minds of Metta, Gymn, and Celisse. Metta and Gymn flew in sweeping dives, spitting thick gobs of caustic saliva