Dragons of the Valley - Donita K. Paul [32]
Paladin sat among the people, eating and listening as the conversation centered on the history of their settlement. Tipper managed to get close enough to hear but not as close as she would have liked. After they’d eaten, the kimens abandoned their usual routines to listen to their honored guest talk.
Paladin told stories that showed how simple choices made the relationships between people good or bad. And when he described the connection all people could have under the guidance of Wulder, a chill ran over Tipper’s skin. She clasped her arms around her middle and felt like her embrace was but a symbol of more powerful arms securing her in a place of safety.
After a time of storytelling, they ate, drank, danced, and sang. Nothing could be more spectacular than watching the fluid movements of the kimens as they expressed joy that stirred even Bealomondore and Librettowit.
The librarian could also sing. When he added his baritone to the sweet voices of the villagers, Tipper expected some visual display to spring out of the air in response to their harmony. She leaned back and closed her eyes, letting her imagination paint beautiful pictures that floated among the notes of music.
In the afternoon, Paladin again sat among the band of small villagers. He never seemed to make a point without using a story, and the stories never disappointed his listeners.
After a short rest in the afternoon, when both children and adults took a little nap, the citizens of the village came again to the commons and asked for more teaching about Wulder and His principles. Paladin obliged while the cooks prepared the evening meal. Librettowit invited Tipper to sing, and she did.
She sang with the chorus of kimens and with Librettowit. But she didn’t feel that her voice melded with their pure tones. The experience left her dissatisfied when, usually, singing gave her a feeling of completion. That troubled her, but she lost the discontent as she enjoyed the music that followed. And then Paladin spoke, and his stories pulled her in. The more she listened to Jayrus today, the more she wanted to listen. Not just because he was attractive, but the words he used attracted her as well.
The long day ended with another wonderful supper. Kimens cleared away the last of the food, and mothers ushered their children to warm beds. Tipper strolled down one of the forest paths, too filled with bliss to enter her tent and calmly go to sleep.
Tipper sat on the edge of a tiny brook, breathing in the cool night air and the fragrance of moonflowers. The spicy-sweet scent burst into the air as the blossoms unfolded in response to the light of a full moon. Tiny sparkle bugs floated on the breeze, giving the air an astonishing shimmer. Drummerbugs supplied the percussion for an eerie insect symphony of trills and hums. As she sat, enjoying the sights, sounds, and scents of the night, the quiver of excitement mellowed into a warm contentment.
She heard footsteps and knew it had to be Paladin. The kimens rarely made noise as they moved. The tumanhofers clumped around. And Wizard Fenworth had gone off somewhere. She looked over her shoulder and smiled at his approach. He cradled something small in his hand against his chest.
“I brought someone to meet you.” He sat down beside her.
She leaned forward to peer into his hand. She could only make out a glowing blob. “Someone?” she asked. The blob stretched, and Tipper made out a tail and head. “A dragon! He’s so small!”
“There are several unusual things about him. He changes color, he’s undersized, as you noted, and he has a remarkable range of abilities.” Paladin ran a fingertip down the tiny dragon’s back. “And he is weak.”
Tipper almost asked if he would die but remembered that the small dragon could probably understand