Dragonspell - Donita K. Paul [41]
“Dar!”
“Up here.”
Kale looked up to see his face showing through the next layer of branches. Biting back angry words, Kale stood and leapt at the hole. This time the branches were more than a foot above her head, but her irritation toward the doneel gave her a boost. She squirmed through the hole quickly.
“Good,” she said. “You haven’t had time to vanish.”
He looked puzzled. “Vanish?”
“Never mind.” She stood and brushed loose bits of leaves from her clothes. “Are we going up again?”
“No, I think this will do. Let’s go.”
“I want to check on Gymn first.”
Dar sighed but didn’t object.
Kale opened the cape and peeked into the top pocket.
“He’s asleep.”
“Ready now?”
Kale didn’t answer. She looked around. “I can stand up straight here, and the upper limbs won’t catch in my hair. It’s lighter, too. More sun gets through.” She lifted her face and closed her eyes. “And there’s a breeze.” She opened her eyes to look at Dar. “Why didn’t Leetu bring us up here sooner?”
“Look down,” said Dar.
Kale immediately saw the difference. “Oh.”
These limbs were thinner with less foliage. Big holes gaped in the flooring, and some places looked as if the branches might give way under any weight at all.
“Leetu wanted you to have a chance to practice walking where it was easier,” Dar explained. “The cygnot floor is called planking. Each time you go up a level toward the sun, the planking is less firmly woven together. The branches are younger, more supple. They bend and slip to the side when you step on them. You’ve practiced below. Now with a little more practice, you’ll master this planking as well.”
“It would have been more comfortable for you and Leetu up here.”
“Yes, but not if we had to keep dragging you back up through several floors of the cygnot forest.”
Kale nodded agreement with Dar’s explanation, but she suspected Leetu had thought mostly of making the journey easier on a poor, untrained o’rant girl.
“Well,” she said, “let’s get started. Which direction?”
Dar pointed. “That way. Deeper into The Bogs.”
“Can the mordakleeps get up here?”
“Yep.” Dar headed out.
Kale followed, watching every step and cringing a little when the intertwined flooring sank under her feet. Several times she hopped to a bigger branch just as she felt she was sliding through the planking.
Kale stopped occasionally as the day progressed to peek at the newborn dragon. Mostly Gymn slept. Once in a while he stretched and turned over.
He seems comfortable. The cape is probably making his little pocket den just the right temperature. She slapped at a bug as it landed on her face. At least he’ll be able to catch enough food for himself. I hope he has a hearty appetite. She slapped at another insect, and waved her hand beside her ear where something small buzzed. I’ll have to ask Dar for that stick that keeps the bugs away next time we stop.
“Kale.” Leetu’s voice, weak and distant, called to her.
Kale stopped in her tracks. “Dar!”
“What?”
“I heard Leetu.”
Dar sprinted back from his position in the lead.
“What did she say?”
“Just my name, and then nothing.”
“Concentrate.”
“I am. I mean, I will.”
Dar stood perfectly still and stared at her. Kale closed her eyes so she wouldn’t have to see him and his expression. He looked as if he expected her to know where Leetu was and whether she was all right and if they could get to her. And oh, how she wanted to know all those things too.
With her eyes closed, she reached out to Leetu. She hesitated. That awful dark emptiness might be out there ready to swallow her up.
It hits so hard when it comes. It hurts. It’s like a nothingness, an emptiness, a…something I can’t name. But it hurts all the way down to my heart.
Stop it! Stop it! I’ve got to quit thinking. I’ve got to try. Leetu spoke to me. She did. I didn’t imagine it. And if she spoke to me, she needs me. She’s someplace where Dar and I can help her. I’ve got to quit thinking about doing it and just