Dragonspell - Donita K. Paul [5]
She climbed the last few feet to the top of the cave with firm determination. Kale cautiously poked her head and then her shoulders above the ground. Squinting in the bright morning sun, she considered the bushes around the rocks where she had fallen into the cave. Her present outlook was higher and a good twenty feet west of the sprawled grawligs. Not all of them had fallen asleep around the hole. That meant some were out of sight.
Awake or asleep? And how many?
As near as she could count, eleven uncouth ogres lay in piles in and around the bushes. Last night dozens of grawligs had gathered in the camp.
Where are the others?
She surveyed the surrounding area, first the low ground ahead. Then she turned and peered above her. The best route of escape lay over the rocks going west.
At least that looks like the best way.
She looked again at the beasts below. The grawligs might sleep for some time. They had feasted late and probably guzzled brillum, a brewed ale that none of the seven high races would consume.
Five, maybe ten minutes, and I’ll be in and out of that tunnel.
She slipped back into the cave and into the stone burrow before she could think twice about what she planned to do.
Thick, moist air settled on her skin as she groped her way in the dark. A sweet fragrance grew heavier as she moved farther and farther away from the cave. The dark, the smell, the damp, all screamed danger in her mind. Her arms and legs kept moving. She argued with herself, trying to force her body to back up and leave both the tunnel and the cave. None of her words, muttered softly in the cloying atmosphere, reached her ears.
Enchantment! she realized with a groan. She could not resist whatever pulled her into depths of darkness.
Trembling, she hoped fear would cause her to collapse.
Then I’d stop. Then I couldn’t go one bit farther.
But I probably couldn’t scoot backward either.
I’d be stuck. Stuck until I die.
3
BLUE CAVERN
Darkness in the tunnel pressed against Kale. Each time she tried to stop, her arms and legs ached to move forward. She bit back the whimper that rose to her lips.
Whining never got me out of a lick of work as a village slave. It won’t help here…Focus on what’s ahead.
Oh no! Somehow focusing on what’s ahead doesn’t seem the right thing to do. I don’t want to follow Mistress Meiger’s wise advice.
I mustn’t give up. The things I learned in River Away are a part of me, and those things are good and strong and pure. What did she say? What did she say? ‘Focus on what’s ahead. Use what is behind.’ Use what is behind. There is always something from your past that will help you with your future. Use what is behind.
Perhaps when she got to wherever this force pulled her, she would have a chance to defend herself.
She tried to imagine herself swinging fists at some unseen foe. Bolley and Gronmere often fought in the square of River Away, showing off their talent as fighting mariones. She tried to picture how they held their short, muscular bodies as they prepared to lunge at each other. Instead, she saw Mistress Avion’s chicken coop.
More enchantment. I can’t even see in my mind what I want to see.
She groaned again and hunched down so that she was almost on her belly. She squirmed through the narrowing tunnel. The rough walls came closer together, and still she crept forward. The heavy smell of minerals choked her, and still she couldn’t stop. Inch by inch she moved into the darkness.
I’m probably in the middle of this mountain by now.
Her knees hurt from scraping over the uneven rock surface, and the tops of all ten toes felt raw. Instead of slowing down, she moved faster. The enchantment grew stronger, urging her on.
I hope there’s no hungry beast waiting for me. I don’t want to be somebody’s breakfast.
Her own stomach grumbled. Farmer Brigg’s bread and cheese were a distant memory.
A soft, azure glow appeared ahead. She breathed a sigh of relief.
The end of the tunnel. Whether it’s good or bad, it’s better than crawling through this tiny