DragonFire by Donita K. Paul Read Free Book Online Page B

she realized Granny Noon spoke as one who possessed knowledge of the mysterious dragons. “You know about the meech? I thought little but legend was known about their race.”
    Granny Noon’s expression wrinkled in wry amusement. “My curiosity was aroused when I met Regidor.”
    “And where did you pick up the knowledge? Librettowit and I scoured Fenworth’s library.”
    Granny Noon smiled. “From emerlindians older than I am. They remember the sudden influx of meech. Long ago meech dragons freely interchanged ideas with the elite.”
    “What happened?” asked Kale.
    “They became wary of our races and segregated themselves.”
    Kale studied the cool façade Regidor maintained.
He’s going to explode if we don’t find Gilda soon.
    From the same direction the druddums had disappeared, they heard Gilda’s tremulous call. “Regidor!”
    The meech rushed to his disheveled bride’s side. Her peach-colored, wide-brimmed hat sat at a precarious angle on one side of her head. Numerous veils twisted around her neck and hung in a tangled mess under her chin. Her wings peeked out of the voluminous cape, the delicate cream material shimmering as if it were as indignant as its wearer. Gilda’s long green tail swished back and forth.
    Regidor put a comforting arm around her shoulders. “What happened?”
    “I went poof!” She gestured with fluttering hands and then went back to pulling the veils out of their snarl. She straightened the folds of her skirt, twisted the waistband, and then pulled at the short, matching bollo jacket.
    Gilda looked as though Regidor had rescued her from a dustbin.
    She’s not hurt. That’s the main thing.
Kale turned her attention to her husband.
But what happened to her? Poof? She went poof?
    Bardon shrugged.
    Regidor guided Gilda to a seat. “Start at the beginning,” he urged. “When did you feel yourself losing substance?”
    Gilda sent an accusatory glare at Bardon. “Our young knight called for a shield.” The glare transferred to Regidor. “You hauled me into the circle with considerable, and I think unnecessary, force.” She shuddered. “I felt myself stretching then.”
    Her eyes moved to the old emerlindian. “Granny Noon looked away from the group toward the oncoming stampede. She reached behind her and right through me to grab Kale’s hand.”
    Kale remembered Granny Noon’s clammy grasp. She’d thought it unusual for the wise woman to have such a physical reaction to the threat of druddums. The moisture had not been nervous perspiration but droplets from Gilda’s essence.
    Gilda straightened as if making a monumental effort to control her emotions. “I felt myself scatter, and certainly not in the way I’m accustomed to. I’ve always drifted toward my destination, which was most often the exquisite bottle Regidor acquired for me. This time there was no destination. And I did not dissipate in an orderly manner, but I poofed!” Again, her hands fluttered. “One second I hung on to my physical form, the next I was completely disassembled and being carried along with the flow of those dreadful little beasts.”
    Regidor cleared his throat. “I would have thought you’d be above them.”
    “I sank.” The tremble of her lower lip belied her indignant tone. “I had to force myself to rise and reconnect.” She looked around at her audience. “It was quite an unpleasant experience.”
    Petite Granny Noon stepped forward and embraced the broad shoulders of the shaken meech female. Even standing, Granny Noon barely came up to Gilda’s chin as she sat on the rock. The emerlindian cooed, “I’m sure it was, dear.”
    Gilda leaned her face onto the emerlindian’s shoulder and sobbed. “Are there more of them? Do we have to stay in this awful tunnel much longer?”
    “Well, yes, there would be more druddums,” answered the granny truthfully, “though it is very unusual for them to run in such a large mass. But it is only a short distance to the gateway we