Dragonquest - Donita K. Paul [83]
Metta and Gymn swooped in, spitting green and purple saliva at the bisonbeck. The sticky goo stung when they projected it into his eyes. Unfortunately, he bobbed and gyrated wildly and made a poor target.
Kale held on with one arm wrapped partway around the man’s thick neck. She dug the fingers of her other hand into the fleshy outer ear, twisting and pulling with all her strength.
The bisonbeck yowled. He slowed his spin, making a ham-fisted grab for her hand. Bardon took the opportunity to smash the bigger man’s nose. The lehman landed another blow to the sputtering sailor’s windpipe. Kale dropped off his back and ran to Bardon’s side. The bisonbeck went down on his knees, coughing.
We’ve got to get Regidor out of here.
“We can’t get anywhere near him.”
Not physically, but we can with our minds.
“What do you suggest?”
Work together. Both of us tell him to get out to the street.
“And when we get to the street?”
I’m not sure. Oh, where is Dar when we need him?
“We can do this, Kale. You’re right. We’ll get Regidor out to the street and away from the fight.”
Kale poured forth a stream of persuasive prattle.
Regidor, we must get away from here. This is pointless. Stop fighting. Go out the door. Regidor, we must leave. No more fighting. Get out the door. The front door, Regidor, to the street. Leave this riffraff behind. Out. Out! Get out!
Regidor eased toward the door.
Kale and Bardon dodged swinging fists and sidestepped as many of the combatants as possible. Bardon cleared the way for her until they reached the swinging doors. The minor dragons came to roost on the two o’rants as they waited by the exit for the meech.
Regidor burst through a knot of wrangling men and shot out the doors. Kale and Bardon followed, the dragons flying above them.
On the street, men fought with knives.
Oh no! This is worse.
“Don’t worry. We’re getting out of here. Regidor, to High Street before Kale gets hurt.”
Regidor landed a blow to one marione and kicked the knife out of another’s hand. The dragon caught a tumanhofer who had the ill judgment to tackle the meech from behind and tossed the short man onto the overhanging roof of a storefront porch.
Regidor flashed a toothy grin at Bardon. “Let’s go!” he shouted.
Three ruffians noticed their retreat and began hurling debris from the street. A bottle whizzed by Kale’s ear. A small stick bounced off her back. She feared for her minor dragons and wished she carried them safely inside the moonbeam cape.
She heard a thud, a grunt, and saw Bardon stumble. Regidor scooped up the injured lehman and tossed him over one shoulder. They ran until the sounds of pursuit faded.
Regidor ducked into an alley and put Bardon down. The unconscious lehman slumped against the wall.
“You take care of him,” the meech ordered. “I’m going back to find Dar.”
Panting from her long run, Kale dropped to her knees beside Bardon. The young man slid out of his half-sitting position and fell with his head in her lap. She put her hand on his chest and felt him breathing. “Regidor, those men are probably searching for you.”
“They can’t hurt me.”
“That isn’t the point. You’ll hurt them. There’s no sense in stirring up trouble.”
“I’ll stay out of sight. When I reach The Horn, I’ll mindspeak to Dar. I want him to bring my robe.”
“Now you need your robe?” She couldn’t keep the sarcasm out of her voice.
“Granny Noon gave it to me.”
“Oh.”
She watched Regidor slip into the street and dash for another shadowy spot that would hide him.
Metta settled on her shoulder, Gymn on Bardon’s chest.
Head wound? At the minor dragon’s direction, she felt the back of Bardon’s head. She found a lump, and her hand came away wet with blood.
She struggled to reach inside her moonbeam cape. She sat in an awkward