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Like the other monsters, this mordakleep disintegrated, once deprived of its tail. As the black form melted into a shadow and then seeped through the cygnot floor, it left behind the egg. Kale snatched it up, wiped the last drips of ooze from the shell, and held it against her chest.

Dar knelt beside her. She looked around and saw that all the monsters had gone. He rested a hand on her shoulder. Kale’s sobs almost prevented her from speaking.

“Did it k-kill the egg?” she asked. “Did it kill the b-baby dragon?”

“I don’t know,” Dar answered.

“Will Leetu know?” Kale again looked around the empty bower.

Dar squeezed Kale’s shoulder. “They took Leetu.”

14

IN WULDER’S PRESENCE

Kale peered along the tangle of cygnot corridors as if she would catch a glimpse of Leetu and her captors. The dim light of the shaded level revealed nothing more than straight branches connecting trunks at various intervals.

It’s hopeless.

“What can we do?” she asked.

Dar sat down beside Kale. “First, reach with your mind. Try to contact Leetu.”

Of course.

The words sounded hollow in her mind. She knew this would be the right thing to do.

How simple.

But Kale’s bruised spirit could not jump to the challenge. Fear and sadness fought inside her. Tears already overflowed, and the sobs that just a minute before had hindered her speaking threatened to return.

I have to calm down. I can’t do anything in a dither like this.

She closed her eyes. Dar still had a hand on her shoulder and his touch comforted her.

Leetu?

Darkness washed over Kale. She bent forward, then collapsed in a heap, pulling herself into a ball. She wanted to escape the anguish tormenting her. A void filled her soul. Emptiness pressed at her from every side. Oblivion threatened to hold her against her will in a place of no color, no sound, no life.

Kale cried out, calling for help in a twisted syllable that could not be formed into a word.

She felt Dar’s hand upon her shoulder and a violent shake. “What’s wrong?” He grabbed her other shoulder. “Kale, stop!”

She collapsed, stretched out on the bower floor. Gasping for breath, she opened her eyes and saw Dar bent over her with worry etched on his hairy features.

“I can’t do it,” she cried. “I can’t. When I reached out, I didn’t find Leetu but something hideous. I felt like my heart was being squeezed, and I couldn’t breathe.”

“It’s all right. There will be another way.” Dar sat back on his heels and seemed to consider the situation. “I’ll fix you some tea.”

Kale nodded. She wasn’t thirsty, but a cup of tea was normal. A cup of tea was something she used to have in the afternoon after midday chores and before supper chores. She’d had a cup of tea at Granny Noon’s. A cup of tea would be nice.

She didn’t move as she watched Dar make preparations. He set up a tiny cookstove from his pack, lit it with a match, poured pure water from their bottled supply into the two-cup teakettle, and then pulled out his flute to play as he waited for the water to boil.

Kale clutched the cold dragon egg to her chest in a hand cramped by fear and strain. Every bit of the mordakleep remains had seeped through the floor and disappeared. No stains splattered the leafy floor or the rough cygnot trunks. Grawlig blood had been a gruesome reminder of their battle when the three had fought off the mountain ogres before reaching Granny Noon. Dying mordakleeps left no blood.

Kale shivered, remembering Leetu efficiently shooting off arrow after arrow into the melee of grawligs below the tree where the emerlindian perched. Kale had thought Leetu invincible, a mighty warrior from The Hall, Paladin’s capable servant. Where was Leetu now?

“Is she alive?” The question burst from her lips. She hadn’t meant to speak her doubt aloud.

Dar stopped blowing across the small hole in his silver flute. The lilting tune cut off on a high note. “I don’t know.”

“Will we be able to find her?”

Dar slipped the long, shiny instrument into its velvet case. “Wulder knows where she is. He knows our