Dragon Spear by Jessica Day George Read Free Book Online

’eavy?”
    Shardas immediately stopped running the soil through his claws. “You’ve been using what?”
    “Mulch is usually a mixture of dung and some other things, leaves maybe,” Hagen explained.
    Luka, too, drew back from the mound, while I just laughed. Having grown up on a farm, I knew exactly what mulch was.
    “Do you zink zat our mulch is too strong?” Roginet fingered the soil, bending his head to Hagen’s.
    “You might want to try a bird- dropping-based mulch,” Hagen mused. “I use turkey droppings.”
    “We ’ave not the turkeys here,” Roginet said. “But there are many other birds.”
    Farm girl or not, this was about as much discussion of mulch as I could stand, and so I took Luka’s arm and we strolled farther down the path. The mounds of trees gave way to clusters of grape vines strung on wires, vines on the ground bearing melons, and vegetable plots. Shardas soon joined us, and we went to select some honey melons from one of the mounds to eat with our dinner.
    “It seems that you’re doing very well here, sir,” Luka said as he and I climbed among the vines, knocking on the sides of the round, yellow fruits.
    “Indeed, we could not have asked for a better land to settle,” Shardas agreed. “The climate is mild year ’round, so we are able to keep our gardens growing constantly. A good thing, considering how much food a single dragon can eat in a year. And we have taken pains not to farm any of the areas where wild fruits and animals flourish.”
    “What kind of animals live here, other than those screeching birds?” I pulled out my belt knife and cut the vine from one of the melons I had chosen.
    “Oh, wild pigs, some strange little things that look like tiny bears—not very good eating, but they have to be kept away from the gardens or they tear them all to bits. Oh, and goats. Quite delightful little creatures, really. Different from Feravelan goats, and their milk and cheese are sweeter. Would you like to see the goat herds?”
    Our nearest neighbors when I was a child had had goats. I remembered the smell, and the bruises I got when one of the males decided he didn’t like me. I smiled politely at Shardas and declined.
    “Delightful little goats?” Luka chuckled. “You know, sir, you and my father are two vastly different kings. Well, I don’t think he knows what mulch is either, but I cannot imagine him even caring to find out. Let alone describing a herd of goats as ‘delightful.’ ”
    “Perhaps your father is missing out on some of life’s small joys, then,” Shardas offered. “These particular goats have a rather unusual habit of keeling over in a dead faint from excitement when they see strangers. And since they can barely remember who fed them breakfast an hour ago, they more or less think everyone is a stranger.”
    “They faint?” That got even my attention.
    “They faint,” Shardas said, laughing. “Come along and see, if you don’t believe me.”
    We put the melons in a large net, and slung it under Shardas’s belly. Then he flew Luka and me over the rest of their gardens and orchards, and yet more jungle, to a high, grassy plateau near the sea.
    From his back, we watched the black and brown goats scatter in panic, and the moment his claws touched the ground, every last one of them had fallen over and was lying on its side, eyes rolled back and legs stiff. Luka and I had to sit right down on the short- cropped turf and hold our stomachs, we were laughing so hard.
    There were tears streaming from my eyes, so I nearly missed seeing Darrym creep up over the edge of the cliff. I wiped my face on my sleeve, and watched him weave between some rocks as though trying to sneak away without us noticing him.
    Shardas, however, was not teary- eyed from laughter, and from his height had an even better view of the brown and green dragon. He hailed Darrym, who froze before turning to face us.
    “Hello, er, Shardas,” Darrym said. “And . . . Creel and . . .