Dragonspell - Donita K. Paul [49]
Kale inspected the open wound where she’d applied the purple root powder. It already looked better.
She started to pour on the oil and then paused to speak to the dragon, “This won’t hurt.”
Celisse didn’t seem to hear.
Kale dripped the oil from the small brown bottle on the wooden shafts of the arrows where they entered the dragon’s body. Then she sang ten verses of “The Beggarman’s Wife” in her head, using the tune to measure off the twenty minutes needed.
The wounded flesh felt cooler under Kale’s fingertips. She carefully pulled on the first arrow and mentally thanked Granny Noon for the oil when the rod slipped out with no problems. In a few minutes she had extracted all of the huge poison darts.
“Now for the healing.” Kale went back to her cape and tenderly took Gymn from his pocket-den. “I don’t really know what I’m doing. I don’t suppose you do either. We’ll both touch her and touch each other because Dar said something about a circle. Then all we can do is leave the rest to Wulder.”
Kale leaned against Celisse’s side near the wound. She placed Gymn on the beast’s dark, scaly skin but kept her hands cupped around the tiny dragon. Then Kale relaxed. Her body molded against the hard-muscled Celisse, and her mind wandered much as it did when she was tucked in bed and ready to sleep.
In this half-awake state, she began to feel the same surge of energy she had felt when Dar played praises on his flute and the kimens appeared to dance in the cygnot bower. The feeling rose and fell, swelled up and drew back, much like Dar’s music. Kale liked both the calm parts and the wild, energetic surges. With joy, Kale realized Wulder was part of the healing circle. Celisse, Gymn, Kale, and Wulder. The truth nearly took her breath away; it was so wonderful.
Then the feelings left, drained away, leaving only a hum of gladness in her soul.
Celisse stirred, raised her head, and yawned. Kale saw new skin where the horrible infected wound had been. The healing had worked.
Kale moved back to her cape and sorted through the various objects she’d left in a heap. Gymn zipped back into his pocket while she tucked items into the cape hollows.
She heaved a big sigh. She had accomplished one part of her mission. Time to let her doneel friend know what was happening.
She’s healed, Dar.
“Good. But I think more time has passed than you’re aware of. It’s afternoon. The fog is holding. It’s a very sticky cloud we’ve been blessed with this day. But still we must get away.”
I understand.
“See if Celisse can fly.”
Before she could even ask the question, the riding dragon conveyed her enthusiastic answer into Kale’s mind.
Kale grinned. Dar, she can!
“Well, get busy!”
“We can’t waste time,” Kale spoke to the dragon. “Where’s your saddle?”
The dragon thought of her saddle, and Kale sensed the location. She moved into a stall, dragged out the heavy leather contraption, and pulled it toward Celisse.
Gymn came out of his pocket-den and climbed to perch on Kale’s shoulder. His eyes grew big as he saw Celisse wide awake and moving.
Celisse stretched her neck out until her huge head hovered directly over the minor dragon. She sniffed the little creature. With a whoosh, the air at Kale’s shoulder drew into the large dragon’s nostrils. Gymn gave a short, shrill cry and collapsed in a heap. Kale caught him as his little body slid down her chest. Startled, Celisse backed up.
In the dim light, Kale examined the baby dragon.
“Fainted again.” She went to her cape and carefully placed Gymn in the inside pocket he had claimed as his den. Then she returned to her most pressing problem.
“This is where Dar’s fine plan begins to fall apart,” she grumbled as she examined the odd contraption on the ground. The saddle had a place for two people to sit, one behind the other. Lengthy straps ran out of every large flap of leather. “I told him I’ve never been near a riding dragon, let alone put a saddle on and climbed aboard. I’ve