Dragons of the Valley - Donita K. Paul [60]
“The others should catch up soon,” she whispered to her crooning dragon. She wasn’t all that confident they’d find her, but she was too tired to fret. “Wake me when you see them. I don’t like being alone.” She closed her eyes. They popped open again when Rayn objected. “Of course I’m not really alone when I have you. I beg your pardon. Good night.”
A niggling worry poked at her drowsy thoughts. She stroked Rayn. “I do hope there is no more rough water. We’d hear it, wouldn’t we? I can’t stay awake, but what if—”
A sound rumbled in the wee dragon’s chest. She felt the vibration against her neck. “Oh, thank you, Rayn. I trust you to keep an eye on things. Good night.”
23
Tangonut Crème Pie
Hollee skipped up the bank and slid down. Exposed roots sticking out of the steep slope showed how far the river could rise. She glanced at Wizard Fenworth. He still slept. She’d gotten very good at recognizing him, even when he was in his woodiest state. At the moment he looked like a log that had tumbled downriver and lodged against another spinet tree. A bossvetch vine grew over both the log and the real tree.
She stopped midway up the incline as voices reached her ears. She jumped down, poked Fenworth, and said, “Someone’s coming.”
The wizard snorted but did not wake up. Hollee zipped along the path beside the river and spotted two tumanhofers and two kimens. She raced back and bounced on the log that was Fenworth.
“Tipper’s not with them. You said Tipper would need our help, but she’s not with them.”
A bit of crackling and popping accompanied the emergence of the wizard from his arboreal state. He shook the vine loose from his arms and stretched.
“Confound it, Hollee.” He frowned at the kimen and removed her from where she clung to his robes. “I was having a good dream.”
“You told me to wake you when they came.”
“So I did. Should have thought that one out more before issuing such a silly request.” He watched as the small party rounded the corner and came into view. “There you are, Librettowit. I’ve got something for you.”
Fenworth stood, pulled out the brownish fabric of his wizard mantle, and plunged his arm into one of the hollows. He carefully removed an object.
“Tangonut crème pie, my friend. I sensed you were in need of its supportive qualities.” He handed the dessert to Librettowit, whose face showed appreciation for the offering.
“No need to share,” continued the wizard as he produced two more pies from his clothing. He handed one to Bealomondore and the other to the kimens. “For myself, I have grasshopper pie. Hollee and I have had our fill of tangonut crème pie for now.”
“Where’ve you been?” asked Librettowit.
“On a beach in the land of Baardack. We taught the natives to bake pies and learned a great deal about this King Odidoddex and The Grawl.”
“That should be helpful.” Librettowit sat on a rock, licking his lips and barely acknowledging Fenworth’s presence.
Bealomondore looked at his pie, then studied the terrain downstream. “We’ve misplaced Princess Tipper. Even the kimens could not find her last night. I think we should keep walking.”
Maxon and Taeda Bel sat on the ground, cross-legged, with the pie between them. Taeda Bel glanced at Bealomondore. “We haven’t had breakfast.”
“Bad idea,” said Fenworth. “Can’t go questing with no sleep and no food. Maybe no food, if you’ve had a full night’s rest. Maybe no sleep, if you’ve eaten your pie. But definitely not both. And besides, Tipper didn’t float down this branch of the River Hannit.”
Bealomondore stared at the wizard. “She had to. We tossed a stick in the river where it split in two. In fact, we tried three times. All the sticks followed the current of this branch. This one is the stronger, wider, most logical choice.”
Even though Bealomondore had not seen the wizard cut the pie he