Dragonspell - Donita K. Paul [143]
Even through closed eyes, Kale sensed the brilliance around her fade. The air turned bitter cold. Some barrier now muffled the sound of the wind. She peeked but wasn’t able to make out any shapes near by. She couldn’t even pick out the form of the one holding her hand.
“Oh dear, oh dear. I need help now. All of you, stay together and call on Wulder.”
How do I call on Wulder? Just talk to Him?
A streak of blackness hurtled past Kale’s right ear, sizzling the air and burning the side of her face.
Oh, Wulder, I don’t know if Fenworth is wise enough or any of us strong enough to get out of this mess. Please, help us.
In the distance, she heard dragon wings flapping against the air. She heard cattle lowing and blackbirds screaming, warning of an intrusion. The light intensified again, and she squeezed her eyes shut. The wind whistled.
Fenworth chuckled. “Reinforcements. Ahh! Now, where was it we were going?”
Reinforcements? What? Where? Again her mind captured an image her eyes could not see. White-winged dragons, the dragons themselves of a multitude of colors, men in shining armor, Paladin on a great shining dragon, weapons that blazed. Too many formed in the darkness for her to count. They drove away dark, swift shapes and gave chase.
Kale felt as though she was being dragged through bushes. She lost her grip on the hand she held and felt an odd cylindrical structure form under her so that she sat straddling it in midair. The wind ceased. The light faded. Kale opened her eyes to view her surroundings.
She and her companions sat on the branches of a towering trang-anog tree. Close by stood an o’rant farmhouse, a barn, and a wagon. In the distance, Ornopy Halls stood elegantly basking in the bright spring sunshine.
Fenworth looked around anxiously. “Most uncomfortable! Did we lose anyone? Head count! Lee Ark, Leetu, and Brunstetter. Three. Should we count the meech egg? No, I think not. Don’t drop it, Brunstetter. I’m to take that home and raise it. Ridiculous, being a parent at my age. Where were we? Oh yes, three. One o’rant, two kimens, two minor dragons. Eight. A librarian and a diplomat. Ten. We’re missing one.”
“Who’s the diplomat?” Kale asked Librettowit who sat on the branch above her.
“Dar. Doneels are often considered quintessential ambassadors.” He cleared his throat and raised a hand to catch Fenworth’s attention. “You forgot to count yourself.”
The wizard bristled. “Nonsense. I’m the oldest, so I counted myself first.”
“You’re the oldest, and you didn’t count yourself at all.”
Three mongrel dogs charged from the open barn door, barking furiously. They surrounded the base of the tree. One stood with front paws against the smooth olive-green trunk and issued a challenge to the interlopers in its tree. Another leapt in the air, snapping at Brunstetter’s heels dangling just beyond its jaws. The third raced pell-mell around the base of the tree and furiously barked its opinion of anyone who dared enter its territory in such an unconventional manner.
The farmer and his wife appeared in the door of their home and gazed with amazement at the scene in their front yard.
“Bring a ladder, man,” commanded Fenworth. “We return, the conquering heroes.”
The farmer’s wife nudged her dumbfounded husband. He nodded to her and darted for the barn, coming out a minute later with a long ladder under his arm.
Kale turned to Dar sitting in a clump of broad trang-a-nog leaves on another branch. “What happens next?”
“We celebrate…and we go home.”
The words sounded as sweet to Kale as music. Home. Not to the Ornopy Halls, but to The Hall, The Hall in Vendela, Paladin’s Hall.
EPILOGUE
Almost There
Dar traveled with her. Paladin had given him permission to enter The Hall and train for service.
Veazey and D’Shay had flown with the large dragons over the mountain pass as soon as the weather permitted. Merlander and Celisse carried Dar and Kale on the lengthy journey south along the Morchain Range.