Dragonquest - Donita K. Paul [53]
Her mother sat up. The elaborate headdress sat at an odd angle on her head. Clean blue cloth ran down the sides of her dress between swaths of brown mud.
Lyll once again struggled to her feet on her own. She stepped over the vine and brushed past Kale. Lifting her heavy skirts to keep from tripping, she walked away from the wallow.
“Tut-tut.” The bird ruffled his feathers, swayed back and forth on yellow legs, and dipped his head. “Oh dear.”
The egg under Kale’s hand buzzed. A giggle rose in her throat, and she clamped her free hand over her mouth.
“Follow me, Kale.” Her mother’s command sent a shiver down her spine. The urge to laugh departed.
She saw another rapidly growing vine snake through the trees and across her mother’s path. The woman, with her chin held high and her headdress wobbling precariously, did not see it. Once again, she landed flat on the forest floor. When she rose to her knees, leaves dotted her gown, stuck in the layer of mud adhering to her clothing.
She screeched and stood. Turning, she impaled Kale with a wicked glare. “Come,” she bellowed and stomped her foot.
Up from the ground where her foot had made its impact, a geyser sprang full force. The spray of water hit Lyll in the face, blasting off a streak of mud. She shook her fists in the air and again stomped a foot. Another geyser erupted. Lyll Allerion whirled in a fit of temper. With each stomp, a new jet of water spurted from the earth. She spun in a circle, shrieking unintelligible words of fury. The air around her crackled and spat sparks, and she was gone.
The bower fell silent. Kale stared at the geysers as they quickly subsided, until the last bubble in the mud disappeared.
She sighed, releasing the tension that had gripped her shoulders. Again the egg in the pouch responded with a peculiar thrum. With the corner of her lip twitching toward a smile, she remembered her mother’s second landing in the mud and the oozy brown glop on her face.
She giggled.
The hat had bobbled as her mother stood and pulled her feet out of the thick mire.
Kale giggled a little louder, and the egg answered with a louder thrum.
A sucking noise had accompanied each step her mother took.
She laughed. She sat down on the thick carpet of old leaves and laughed until she cried.
“Do you suppose she’s demented?” Fenworth’s scratchy voice startled Kale.
“Oh no, I wouldn’t think so,” answered Cam. “I do believe her egg is about to hatch though.”
Kale wiped the tears from her eyes and grinned up at the two wizards. Cam’s robes hung 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