Dragonspell - Donita K. Paul [43]
Big and small flying insects tormented her, distracting her from the serious business of putting her feet down in the safest spots. Kale slapped at them and vowed that as soon as Dar stopped for the night, she would ask him for the stick. She wouldn’t ask now. They must reach Leetu.
After Kale stumbled several times, Dar found a place to camp. He said nothing about her clumsiness. She was too tired to even be embarrassed that they had to stop because she was falling on her face every couple of steps. She spread out her cape close to a cygnot trunk where the planking was thick and solid.
Dar handed her the insect repellent. Kale muttered a thank-you. She rubbed the fragrant bar over every bit of skin sticking out of her clothing, even in her hair.
She wanted to talk to Dar, ask him some things. How far? How soon? Would the mordakleeps be there? But her tongue wouldn’t form the questions. As soon as she curled up on the moonbeam cape and pulled it around her like a gray cocoon, she fell asleep.
Kale opened her eyes to a misty morning. Hazy sunlight filtered through the branches above. A small creature scuttled across her shoulder and down her back. The tread of the animal raced down her leg and back up. As it reached her thigh, Kale sat up with a jerk. She relaxed when she saw it was Gymn. He scurried in another direction, made a leap, and caught a bug. He chewed only a second before he swallowed and then went in pursuit of more breakfast. He never ventured more than a couple of feet away from Kale.
The aroma of sweet porridge drew Kale’s attention. Steam from Dar’s cooking pot swirled around his hand as he stirred with a long-handled wooden spoon.
Kale rubbed sleep from her eyes and crossed her legs.
We should get up and move. But Dar’s fixing breakfast, and there’s no hurrying him. She sniffed the air and smiled as she watched him. He’d say, “Doneels take their meals seriously.” And, “You can’t expect to think and act your best on an empty stomach.” I know a lot about him and how he’ll act. I think I know more about how he’ll act in a crisis than I know what I’ll do. I’m willing to sit here and wait for him to produce some delicacy. I do want to find Leetu, but I’m afraid of what we’ll find with her.
Her stomach rumbled. Oats fortified with dried parnot fruit tantalized her nose with a savory odor.
“I had a dream last night,” she said, trying to get her mind off food.
“An interesting dream?” Dar lifted his stirring spoon to his lips and tasted.
“I don’t know.”
He took a pinch of white powder from an open packet beside the small cookstove and dropped the grains into the pot. He stirred slowly.
“What was it about?”
“A dragon.”
“A meech?”
“I don’t know. I’ve never seen a meech. This dragon is larger than Merlander, though.”
Dar nodded. “Not a meech.”
Kale tilted her head and thought. “It’s funny, Dar. I can still see her. It’s kind of like the dream is still going on, even though I’m awake.”
Dar’s ears perked up, and he stopped stirring. “What is the dragon doing?”
“Nothing much. She’s sad and lonely. She’s wounded.”
“Where is she?”
“In a barn.”
“What else is in the barn?”
“Nothing. I mean, no animals, no hay. It’s empty. The gray boards in the walls have gaps so I can see outside. The air is cool and dark and damp.”
“That’s not a dream, Kale.” Dar sounded excited. “You’ve connected with a dragon. Don’t lose her.”
“Lose her? How can I keep from losing her? I don’t know how I got her. Or even what it means when you say I connected with her.”
Dar dished up lumpy porridge into a bowl, stuck a spoon in it, and hurried over to serve Kale. “Eat this. We have to go.”
Something about his expression worried Kale. “To find Leetu, right?”
“No, to find that dragon.”
“Leetu is more important.”
Dar hurried back to his cookstove. He extinguished the flame as he ate hasty bites of breakfast straight from the pot.
“Bigger than Merlander, you said. She can probably carry both of us. Kale, if we find