38
CAUGHT
Kale reached farther into the darkness, trying to locate the dragons. Her hand touched nothing, no blankets, no cushion, no ground below. From a distance, Sir Kemry’s voice echoed. “Take my hand.”
She sat up. “Father?”
“Take my hand.”
She stretched her arms in circles around her and encountered nothing. “I can’t find you.”
“Concentrate on my voice.” He sang a melody she knew from her brief time at The Hall. This hymn announced the morning vespers and had been sung by a baritone from one of the towers each dawn.
Was she moving, or was the gloom around her moving? Something swirled against her cheeks, but it did not feel like air.
Metta’s clear tones joined her father’s song.
Kale attempted to stand. She had nothing to push against. She seemed to be hanging in mid air. She rolled onto her stomach and tried to “swim” toward the sound of her father’s voice. Again, she could not push or pull with her hands or feet.
Terror shivered her spine. Mordakleeps! Am I inside a mordakleep? “Father?”
Metta kept singing as her father answered. “No, not a mordakleep, but a Burner Stox replication of one. While mordakleeps live and breathe, I detect no organic form in this abominable abyss.”
“So we can’t whack off its tail and escape?”
“I’m afraid not. Keep following my voice.” He joined Metta, harmonizing with her alto.
Kale kicked and thrashed her arms about. Since she couldn’t see anything, she didn’t know if she had moved past anything. Since she couldn’t feel anything, she couldn’t tell if her body traveled any distance due to her maneuvering. As far as she could tell, she moved not one inch.
Kale sighed, crossed her arms, and rested her forehead on them. The song ceased.
“Kale,” Sir Kemry called.
“What’s wrong?”
“Nothing. Metta found me. She says the singing linked us so that we could come together. Sing, Kale!”
Metta and Sir Kemry now crooned a reverent ode to Wulder. Kale lifted her head and her voice. The atmosphere around her changed—warm and damp. Kale sang louder. The air altered back to the stagnant, lifeless state. Kale concentrated on blending her voice with the others, so that she harmonized with each note. Metta helped her with the words and tones. Again the heavy darkness ebbed and flowed in a pleasant, moist current.
Now she felt as though she was floating. The other singing voices became more distinct. Air brushed against her like a warm breath. Her father’s voice drew nearer. She reached toward the song. In the dark, Metta landed awkwardly on Kale’s back. She gave a trill of joy and flew off. A moment later, Kale heard the same trill from a short distance away. Metta returned, still singing. Her cry of joy burst from her throat as soon as her feet touched Kale.
Both Dragon Keepers understood that the other had reached the same conclusion. Metta was flying between them and calling out each time she connected. Each trip between father and daughter shortened until the singing dragon hopped from Sir Kemry’s shoulder to the top of Kale’s head. Her father pulled her into his arms. The song broke off as they laughed and embraced.
“I can feel the floor beneath my feet,” said Kale.
“Feels good, doesn’t it?” Her father tightened his hug. “And I can feel the material of your cape.” He touched the crown of her head and brought his hands down to cover her ears, then rest on her neck. “And your hair. It’s fallen down again, just like your mother’s. She can’t keep up a bun for the life of her.”
Kale giggled. She might not have the stately beauty of her mother, but they shared unruly hair.
“How are we going to get out of here?” asked Kale. “And where are the other dragons?”
Metta answered. The other dragons had been snagged by Burner Stox and trapped in Greenbright Valley. Metta and the others had searched. She saw the black dungeon and heard Sir Kemry’s voice.
“You deliberately flew into this horrible darkness?” asked Kale.
Metta assured her she had. How else would she have found her o’rant wizards?
“Father, can we follow Metta out the same way she came in?”
“I don’t believe it is that simple. Metta’s as stuck in here as we are.”
Kale felt the little dragon slide down her hair and perch on her shoulder. Metta rubbed her head under Kale’s chin.
“Then what do you suggest, Father?”
“We are fighting darkness, and you are the light wizard. I think this one is up to you.”
“Oh dear.”
“Try something small first.”
Kale held out her hand, and a tiny glimmer illuminated her palm. “That’s not much.”
“Don’t talk,” said Sir Kemry. “Concentrate.”
Kale intensified the glow enough to shine on the faces of the three standing there.
“You are untidy,” remarked her father.
Kale frowned at him. “I was sleeping.”
He scowled in mock disapproval, and then their faces broke into grins.
Metta chirruped.
Kale turned her head. “Look, there’s a small light coming our way. Ardeo!”
Sir Kemry barked a laugh. “Ha! A second minor dragon gives up his freedom—well, relative freedom—to come to your aid.”
“Your aid too,” insisted Kale. “And, I think possibly, Metta. Metta is his favorite sister.”
Ardeo perched on Kale’s other shoulder. She laughed at his assurance that now that both he and Metta were here, they would soon be free.
“I’m sure that will be so,” she commented and then gazed at the flickering light in her hand. “But this small offering is not enough to dent this massive shadow.”
Metta flew to Sir Kemry’s head. “We’ll sing,” he said.
Ardeo scampered down her arm to sit next to the insignificant light. It instantly brightened.
With the song as a backdrop, Kale imagined a tendril coming out from the orb. In her palm, the sphere bulged on one side and popped out a feeler as a vine would reach out with new growth. This branch shot out, burst, and produced more tendrils. Another bulge formed on the orb and let out a long string of radiance. The light plant glowed through the stem, branches, and tiny leaves. Light streams stretched into the darkness and pushed back the gloom. The branches grew until the plant filled the dark dungeon and continued to grow.
“Look,” said Kale and nodded toward the farthest limb.
A crack shone in the solid black, allowing a stream of sunshine to pierce the inside. Another crack appeared and another. Soon the outer shell of the abyss shattered and crumbled, exposing a beautiful countryside with mountains all around.
Sir Kemry cheered, and the dragons chirruped their delight.
“Well done, daughter.” He surveyed the land beyond the dense vines of the light-shining plant encasing them. “I believe we’re in Greenbright Valley. I see several dragons, major and riding dragons. Are those minor dragons in that tree? It seems to be a whole flock of them.” He clapped his hands together. “Good, good. Now let’s explore and see what we are up against.”
“The vine should wither in a day or two,” said Kale.
Sir Kemry gave her a sharp look. “What are you saying? Now we are trapped inside this twisted light vegetation?”
Kale shrugged. “Sort of.”
“Sort of?” Sir Kemry barked. “What kind of a sentence is that?”
Kale shrugged again and bent her head to hide the grin that tickled the corners of her mouth. The relief of being out of the clinging darkness made her lightheaded. Surely, it wouldn’t be that hard to get through a jungle of vines made of light.