Dragons of the Valley - Donita K. Paul [108]
“My brain jumps and runs?” He stopped and contemplated the idea. “Hollee, I believe you’re right.”
They continued up the incline, moving toward the spot of sunshine ahead of them.
“Are we going to talk to the dragons now?” Hollee asked.
“Just one, and Hollee, this will please you. Sage is the oldest living dragon. At least the oldest anyone knows about. He is older than I am.”
Hollee’s hushed and awestruck tone revealed her amazement. “No!” She did a somersault in the air and squeaked as she came down. “Really, really?”
Wizard Fenworth nodded seriously. “Really.” He stopped only feet from the exit to the tunnel. “In fact, I believe some ceremony might be in order. Brighten your clothing, Hollee, and try to look a tad more groomed.”
Fenworth stood perfectly still for a moment as his clothes changed from the working robes he had been wearing to his very best wizard attire. His outer robe sparkled with gemmed birds, glittering bushes dotted with colorful flowers, and an embroidered waterfall with shimmering aquamarine threads.
The water looked like it flowed. Hollee watched it pour over his shoulder, down one side of the dark robe, where it ended in a froth at the hem. She came closer to examine the way it rippled and discovered that a river streamed off from the base of the fall. She followed it around to where the water traveled up the wizard’s back to fall again over his shoulder.
Fenworth remained still as his hat transformed to match the magnificence of his robe. Under the outer garment, his drab, light brown tunic changed to a glistening white. The walking stick that he almost always carried let out a brilliant light, and when it faded, her wizard held an intricately carved and polished staff.
“There, there now. I think we’re ready.” He looked down at his little kimen friend. “Tut, tut, Hollee. Is that the best you can do?”
He handed her a comb. She raked it through her flyaway locks, but the result did not please Fenworth.
“If anything, you’re more disheveled than when you began.” He tossed water on her head, and she squealed. She also sparked.
“Oh dear. I forgot about that. Are you hurt?”
She shook her head. Drips of water and sparkles showered around her. “No.”
“Then pat down your hair.”
She obeyed, carefully smoothing the wet tresses to lie flat around her head. With a smile, she peered up at her wizard. “Is that better?”
The fine hair dried in a moment. As each hair lost the weight of moisture, it popped up. In the end, her frizzle-do topknot crowned her head once more.
Fenworth gave her a wink. “Very much more like a distinguished kimen.”
That sent Hollee off in a fit of giggles. When she could speak, she claimed that kimens didn’t hold being distinguished as a very desirable state.
“True, true,” said Fenworth. “And come to think of it, this valley is heavily populated with kimens as well as dragons. Sage will expect you to look like a kimen.”
“Does he live in a cave or a palace?”
“Cave, under the lake. This valley is where Prince Jayrus lived. He told me about Sage. Sir Beccaroon visited the old dragon while he was here.”
“Under the lake?”
“Yes.”
“We have to go under the lake?”
“Yes.”
“How will we breathe?”
Fenworth wrinkled his brow. “Through your nose or your mouth. I don’t think it matters which means you choose to employ.”
Hollee temporarily gave up her quest for details and skipped beside him as the tall o’rant wizard stretched his legs into a swift march.
The old man whistled a tune, then said, “My, my, it’s good to be out in the sunshine.”
“It is,” agreed Hollee. She decided to have another go at pinning him down on how they would get to where they were going. “But, Wizard Fenworth, is the cave filled with water?”
“No, no, of course not. It is rather wet because that keeps the old dragon’s skin in good condition.”
“So we need to find the entrance to the cave and walk in a tunnel under the lake to find the cave in which Sage resides.”
“Good work, Hollee.”
The kimen grinned. After being with Wizard Fenworth for quite