"He probably flew after them to see where they go."

"What are we going to do?"

Bardon sighed, picked up his sword, and turned toward the gate. "Follow them."

.46.

A FRIENDLIER DINNER.

Bardon asked Ardeo, Kale's light dragon, to lead the way. He flew close to the ground, and the glow of his skin gave Bardon enough light to see the tracks of the mob that had stolen Bromptotterpindosset. The huge grawligs had beaten a wide path through the underbrush. Kale and Bardon sped after them, slowing only when they came to cliff-like inclines. Apparently, the mountain ogres with their tough hides just slid down these rocky slopes.

Bardon heard the beat of Regidor's wings and put a hand on Kale's arm to stop her. In a moment, the meech dragon landed in front of them, immediately folding his wings and retracting them under his cape. The minor dragons perched on Kale and Bardon.

"Well," said Kale when Regidor didn't speak, "what did you find out?"

The meech dragon looked pointedly at Bardon's hold of Kale's arm. The squire frowned and stepped down the path a few feet.

Kale looked from one male friend to the other. Bardon thought she would make some comment, but she surprised him by staying focused on the rescue.

"Where is the tumanhofer?" she asked.

"Unfortunately, they have taken him back into the warrens." Regidor clapped his forefeet together, producing a table, chairs, food, and drink. "Shall we? I'm sure you're as hungry as I am, and we have time to make plans over a succulent meal."

Fried fish, a large loaf of dark bread, corn, pnard potatoes, and crisp salad greens lured them all to the table. Regidor hurried to pull a chair out for Kale. Bardon stopped to stare.

Now, why did he do that? Of course, I would have done the same in a more formal setting. It's not as if I'm unaware of how to treat a lady.

Kale flashed a smile at Regidor and then frowned at Bardon. "Aren't you coming?"

Bardon sat down without saying a word.

Regidor bowed his head, as did Kale. The squire followed suit a second and a half later.

The meech dragon's low voice rumbled his petition. "Wulder, we acknowledge Your sovereignty, we thank You for our meal, and we ask that You strengthen our friendships, even making them new. By Your might and grace, may all things be done."

Just as he opened his eyes, Bardon caught a look passing between Kale and Regidor.

What is going on between those two? And what did Regidor mean by making our friendships new? Should I ask?

No! We're here to rescue Bromptotterpindosset. We're here to rescue the knights.

The squire knew the meech dragon would rather report on his own time, but he was tired of the delays and all the nonsense that seemed to be interfering with their purpose. "Regidor, what did you find out as you followed the grawligs?"

Regidor wrinkled his nose in distaste but complied with Bardon's request for information. "The band that most recently abducted Bromptotterpindosset were the Gar-hoo. And, they were the ones who abducted him from our camp. The Bor-bor then ambushed the Gar-hoo and stole their prize. The Bor-bor then invited the Nastrek to join in a celebration. To them, successfully grabbing the Gar-hoos' loot is of great consequence. Also, having in their possession an otherlander increases their prestige, so of course they wanted the Nastrek to be witness to their triumph.

"As long as the clans do not lose interest, Bromptotterpindosset is fairly safe from becoming a meal. These grawligs like to play with their food and don't actually cook them until the novelty has worn off and they have become bored."

Kale had buttered thick slabs of bread and placed them on each plate. Now she poured a cool, clear, red juice into tall goblets and passed them to her companions.

"Thank you," said Regidor.

"Thank you," echoed Bardon and tried not to choke on the bite halfway down his throat.

What is this? Some kind of contest? My manners are just as polished as the manners of a meech dragon from a swamp!

He bit into the fish and found it salty, crunchy, and delicious. A savory sauce covered the pnard potatoes. A light dressing glistened on the salad greens and tasted of delectable herbs with a hint of garlic. The fragrance alone soothed Bardon's frazzled nerves. He soon forgot his irritation over Regidor's odd behavior toward Kale, and he ate heartily.

When they each leaned back in their chairs, totally satisfied, Regidor clapped his forefeet, and the whole dinner, dirty dishes, table, and all disappeared. Only the chairs remained.

Bardon looked askance at his friend. "I only had rudimentary wizardry lessons under old Fen, but it seems to me that all things must be created from existing things. That a wizard cannot pull objects out of thin air."

Kale's expression took on the look of a mentor displeased with her pupil. "Now that your stomach is full you think to question where the food came from?" She giggled. "Regidor doesn't pull them out of thin air, but out of well-stocked hollows. Regidor is more a master of dramatic display than most of us. Librettowit says he has a 'flair' for the art of wizardry that hasn't been seen in any wizard for eons."

Bardon smiled. "And Fenworth says?"

"Harrumph!" imitated the two ex-apprentices at the same time.

They laughed.

We have so much in common, the three of us. Not only the crazy old wizard, but also the lack of parents and the desire to follow Wulder. He caught himself before he let his thoughts stray further down such a philosophical path. They had work to do. He caught himself before he let his thoughts stray further down such a philosophical path. They had work to do.

"We need to rest," said Bardon, "then find Bromptotterpindosset, send him on his way, and tackle the problem of how to wake up the knights."

"You left out an important step," Kale said as they all stood. She paused and raised her eyebrows. "Removing your tumanhofer from the midst of his captors."

"Ah yes, that should be entertaining," said Regidor. He snapped his fingers, and the chairs they had been sitting on folded in on themselves and disappeared.

They strolled through the moonlight among the jagged rocks toward a part of the warren Regidor thought might be unoccupied. Ardeo flew in front of them, close to the ground, illuminating the shadows in their path. The other minor dragons sometimes flew and sometimes perched on the three travelers.

"We'll look this dirt shelter over carefully," explained Bardon to Kale. "The last supposedly unpopulated burrow we explored housed two cave dragons. One was a small snake dragon, and the other, a massive two-headed snake dragon."

The minor dragons set up a hullabaloo, chittering, scolding, and chirping interspersed with shrill whistles.

"What's that all about?" asked Bardon.

"They're expressing their opinions of what they call degenerate dragons. They consider snake dragons to be very low creatures, indeed."

"Which," said Regidor, "raises the question of why some dragons behave more like animals and some like upstanding citizens of the high races."

"Which," said Bardon, "raises the question of why some citizens of the high races behave more like animals, never fulfilling their potential for nobility."

Kale clamped her hands over her ears. "Stop! I get my fill of philosophical debates when Wizard Cam comes to visit. He and Librettowit can discuss the vagaries of civilization until they are both hoarse from talking."

Bardon laughed. "They had those kinds of deliberations at The Hall, but Sir Dar discouraged them at Castle Pelacce."

"Why?" asked Kale.

"He said there came a time when words lost their ability to accomplish change and just became noises in the air."

"So he didn't believe people should indulge in discussions?"

"Oh no," Bardon shook his head. "He encouraged discussions until they became futile. He used the example of describing an egg. There are only so many words you can use to describe an egg, and after those have been used in every possible combination, the smarter activity is to eat the egg rather than describe it."

When they reached the burrow Regidor had spotted, they found vegetation grown up around its entrance and no sign of anyone having gone in or out for several seasons at least. Both Regidor and Kale used their minds to see if they could detect life within the enclosure. They found nothing larger than a druddum, and those cave dwellers never posed problems other than occasionally startling an explorer by appearing suddenly.

The troop settled in, using blankets Regidor and Kale had in their hollows. Kale volunteered to take the first watch.

Regidor uncorked his elaborate bottle. "Gilda will keep you company. She's safe here and will enjoy the visit."

Kale brightened at the prospect. She smiled at Bardon and explained. "Gilda and I often visit when Regidor stays at Fenworth's castle."

Their voices-Kale's sweet and musical, Gilda's low and breathy-lulled Bardon into a restful slumber.

.47.

ONE MORE TIME.

"How are you feeling, Gilda?" asked Kale.

"Just tired."

"You're not bored anymore?"

She shook her head wistfully. "I'm too tired to be bored these days, Kale."

"Are you frightened?"

"I'd say I was too tired to be frightened, but that isn't true. I'm not frightened anymore, but it isn't because of the nagging fatigue. It is because Paladin has taught me about Wulder. Because I understand."

Kale nodded.

"And," Gilda smiled the slow, lazy smile that relaxed her face and cast an aura of tranquility over her features, "I am very glad I met Regidor. We've traveled so many places. Do you know why he travels?"

Kale shook her head. "I've often resented his freedom to go places Cam and Fen would not let me go. And although Mother visits often, she never takes me with her to the places she goes."

"Your mother still does very dangerous work for Paladin. She goes places where it is not safe for a young, inexperienced girl."

"You're younger than I am, Gilda, and so is Regidor. Everyone seems to forget that."

"We are meech, dear Kale, and you know that makes a difference whether you want to acknowledge the fact or not."

She's right. Just look at her. She's poised and unruffled and everything I am not. And actually, I would rather not be exactly like Gilda for all her sophistication. Being stuck in The Bogs is infinitely more entertaining than being stuck in a bottle. I'm happy with my lot.

Kale smiled and stretched and leaned back against the earthen wall of the burrow. "I know I'm not a meech. Fenworth often bemoans the fact that I don't learn as quickly as Regidor." She yawned. "Tell me about your travels and make it very interesting so I'll stay awake."

Gilda chortled, the laugh rattling deep in her throat. "I won't need to work at that." She reclined across a broad rock shelf where Regidor had set her bottle. "Where shall I begin? You know Regidor spent a great deal of time visiting weavers and tailors."

"I used to think he was vain."

"He enjoyed teasing you. When you scolded him for wasting his time, he secretly took pleasure in being able to mislead you. He searched for fabric suitable for his adventures and for clothes designed to help him blend into the general populace. It is difficult to be hairless, green, and scaly. It is also difficult to hide a tail and wings."

Kale looked at her elegant friend who also disguised a tail and wings. Gilda used draped veils. Her dresses and swirling capes added to her exotic glamour.

"But Regidor travels for two other reasons," continued Gilda. "He searches with a passion for information about the meech race. The question of where they came from troubles his peace of mind. Equally, he wants to know where the remnants of our race have gone."

Kale nodded in understanding. "And the last reason he travels is you, isn't it?"

"For me. He hopes to find a way to save me." She shrugged as if the solution to her predicament was not all that important to her.

"Don't you want to live, Gilda?" Kale asked.

"I suppose I do, but not with the zeal one might expect. I think it's good that I've spent time with Wizard Fenworth." Her face lit up with a much warmer expression than her usual serene smile. "Besides amusing me, he has instructed me in the gentle art of dying. Without anger or defiance. No desperate clinging to this realm with a fear of the next."

"You wouldn't fight to live?"

"Under certain circumstances. But those circumstances are not mine. I would only cause myself unhappiness to chafe under my situation. I would cause Regidor's anguish to intensify. No, my desire is to enjoy each moment. And should I be granted an unexpected reprieve, I shall rejoice."

Kale shook her head, her brown curls bouncing against her face as they swung back and forth. "I don't think I could be so calm, Gilda. I just couldn't resign myself to die without a fight."

"That's because your circumstances are not mine. I think Wulder expects you to fight and me to comply."

Gilda soon returned to her bottle. The length of time she could spend outside had dwindled significantly over the three years since Risto had imprisoned her. Kale recognized that each time Gilda appeared outside her bottle, her vapor was less dense, her image less sharp.

[image]

Regidor took the next watch. Bardon the last.

In the morning they ate a simple meal.

"Regidor," Bardon said as he swallowed the last bite of mullin, "we should send another message to N'Rae that we'll be delayed."

"N'Rae?" Kale frowned at the squire. "Didn't you say a Captain Anton led your party in your absence? Why are you sending a message to a girl?"

"Because," answered Bardon with excruciating patience, "Regidor delivers the message through an animal. You do remember that I told you N'Rae's particular talent is the ability to communicate with animals?"

Kale hated the tone of voice Bardon used. It reminded her of their early acquaintance, when he was a snooty lehman at The Hall. At that time, he treated everyone with cold disdain. Irritation seeped into her voice. "I do remember you saying something about a chicken."