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OUT OF THE FRYING PAN

Sir Kemry grabbed an illuminated vine and yanked it downward.

“Ouch!” He let go and shook his whole arm. “It bites.”

Kale grabbed the injured hand. He had his fingers tightly coiled.

“Let me see.”

A red line the same thickness of the stem he’d seized ran across his palm.

“Well, this is going to make things a tad more difficult,” Kale said.

She peered through the jungle of a plant, grimacing at the tangle that kept them from walking into the valley. Ardeo and Metta could fly out. Their tiny bodies would fit. But the dragons sat on her shoulders and chittered useless advice. Pat would have been more help in the situation.

“You’re the light wizard,” said her father. “Touch it, and see if it sears your hand.”

Kale raised her eyebrows at him. “Good idea.” Her voice couldn’t quite hide the sarcasm.

She reached out one finger and tentatively tapped a leaf.

She smiled. “Nothing.”

“Not quite.” Sir Kemry nodded at the vines.

Where there had been one tiny leaf here and there among the branches, now leaves were sprouting and filling out, making palm-sized bright lanterns among the foliage.

Kale and her father squinted.

He shook his head and peered down at his daughter. “I don’t think we need this much radiance, my dear. After all, it is the middle of the morning.”

Kale screwed up her mouth and scowled at him. “Do you have any suggestions?”

He shrugged. “Try going backward through the configuration.”

Kale closed her eyes and concentrated. Decreasing the foliage by obliterating the leaves turned out to be difficult. She didn’t know exactly how the leaves had proliferated in the first place.

She heard her father’s voice. “Good, good.”

Her eyes popped open, and she saw the leaves that had just sprouted, dropping to the ground, their lights extinguished.

“Don’t stop now,” her father urged.

She closed her eyes again and gave a frustrated sigh. So often this wizardry stuff worked or didn’t, and she had no idea how or why.

“You’re slowing down now. Are you concentrating?”

“Yes, Father, I’m concentrating.”

“You couldn’t be. You’re talking to me.”

“Only because you’re talking to me.”

“Hush now, and work.”

Kale growled. Her father laughed.

She set her mind to unwinding the vines and to lowering the energy level flowing through them.

“Ah, that’s better.” She heard her father murmur. “I don’t have to squint so much.”

Sir Kemry touched her arm. “Look.” His voice sounded wobbly.

She opened her eyes and peered through what was left of the withering vines. A major dragon stood outside the enclosure. He blinked his huge eyelids and crooned a long, drawn-out, solitary note in his throat.

“Dobkin,” said Sir Kemry, and his voice definitely broke.

Kale looked at her father’s face. Tears ran down his cheeks, but his bright eyes and smile told a tale of joy.

“Dobkin, you old scalawag. Are the others here as well?”

The dragon stamped one enormous foot. Major dragons were the biggest of all the different varieties, and the ground shook. The branches of the dying light vine shuddered, and some collapsed.

Dobkin opened his mouth, and Sir Kemry yelled, “No!”

The big beast didn’t heed his warning and lunged for the illuminated vegetation, biting into a huge chunk and ripping it out. He spit the leaves and branches out and smacked his lips as if trying to get rid of a bad taste.

Kale gasped. “He’s burned his mouth.”

Dobkin stamped his foot again, looked intently through the brambly bushes, and pulled his lips back from his long teeth.

“He’s going to use just his choppers to rip this hedge down,” said Sir Kemry.

The dragon grasped the next branch in his teeth and hauled back his neck, effectively breaking a massive piece of the plant away from the main stems.

“How clever of him!” remarked Kale.

Sir Kemry chuckled.

“What?”

“Wait until you’ve known my friend Dobkin longer.”

“Why?”

“He always means well, but calling him clever is rather a juxtaposition of terms. You could never put clever, intelligent, cunning, or any such word in the same sentence with Dobkin. He’s mammoth and has a gigantic heart to match, but his brain must be very, very tiny.

Three more chunks, and the dragon had a path cleared so Kale and her father could walk out of the lifeless plant and into the grassy meadow of the valley.

Dobkin bobbed his head until Sir Kemry reached up a hand. The dragon placed his chin on Kale’s father’s shoulder. The broad jaw took up the shoulder space and all the room on his arm down to the elbow. Sir Kemry stroked the big animal’s cheek, and Dobkin hummed.

Ardeo and Metta soared around their heads. Metta’s voice rose in a triumphant aria. Soon, dragons of all sizes streamed into the meadow, surrounding the two Dragon Keepers. Sir Kemry found all of his friends from before the sleeping-chamber episode. Kale rejoiced with him, her face as wet with tears as his. She greeted her minor dragons and listened to their scrambled tale of how they had been captured.

Shock struck her when she heard her father’s stern order.

“Away with you. Hide.”

She looked around but could see nothing unusual. The air chilled around her. The sky darkened, even though not a cloud coursed overhead.

“Be gone. I don’t want you hurt.” Her father’s voice rang out.

The dragons departed, some on foot, but most took to the air.

On the hillock, near a cluster of dark trees, a woman held out a staff aimed at Sir Kemry.

“Burner Stox,” whispered Kale.

“Amazing,” the evil wizard said, staring at Sir Kemry. “Amazing that you should decide to visit my domain on a day I am in residence. And unfortunate,” she sneered, “for you.”

She paced down the hill, her back straight and proud; her head held aloft like royalty; her chin jutting with arrogance at her visitors; and the look in her eye, dealing death. At the bottom of the slope, she stopped, stood with her feet apart, and raised her staff in front of her. One end pointed to the leaden sky. Lightning crackled out of the tip and spread into the air above, leaving the smell of sulfur. She clasped it with two hands, and when she pulled her hands apart, the staff separated into two whole rods of equal size.

“Run,” Kale’s father commanded. “Let me deal with her.”

“I’ve fought her before,” protested Kale, but she moved away from her father’s side, racing to the other edge of the meadow. She realized they would stand a better chance if Stox had to divide her attention.

Sir Kemry moved to the opposite side. Burner Stox now had to shift her head back and forth to view her opponents. Still she smirked, confidence in her powers radiating from her person.

She raised her two staffs and pointed them at Kale and Sir Kemry. “Shall I reduce you to ashes in one blow, or linger over the moment with a slow, smoldering blaze?”

Kale felt an invisible shield materialize in front of her.

“Hold this!” her father demanded.

She grasped the handle with ease. As soon as she felt comfortable with the weight, it became heavier, indicating that her father had let go.

Kale whispered, “Wulder protect me from evil. In the same way this shield guards my body, defend my mind so that Burner Stox cannot enter my thoughts. Strengthen me for combat, give me wisdom for this contest, and may Your power be shown.”

Even prepared, Kale staggered back a step when the first blast from Stox’s rod struck the shield. While Kale held the fabric of the invisible armor in place, she gathered energy in her other palm. When the power reached an apex, she cast it through the air and slammed Burner Stox with a devastating blow. Only, the evil wizard did not falter. She threw back her head and laughed. It seemed to Kale that she glowed.

She absorbed that energy, Kale called to her father.

“Use the shield to deflect her stream of fire and send it back at her.”

Kale gauged the flow of flames, and as it hit the barrier she held, she turned it. The torrent backtracked along the outgoing barrage and struck Burner Stox in the chest. She expanded, and the glow intensified.

“Stop,” ordered Sir Kemry. “We’re feeding her energy.”

That doesn’t make sense.

“We’ll stop and figure it out later.”

What are we going to do now?

“We’ll try dousing her blaze.”

Kale’s father gathered moisture and concentrated it in a small dense black cloud. The cloud scuttled over their adversary and dumped a deluge on her head. She sputtered but did not cease throwing the steady surge of powerful flame their way.

“All right. Plan A and Plan B didn’t work. Plan C, if you please, Kale.”

What?

“I came up with A and B. It’s your turn.”

You sound just like Regidor ribbing Bardon in the middle of a duel.

Her distraction allowed her shield to droop.

“Kale!”

Her father’s sharp tone caused her to jerk. Her hand turned upward just in time to send a blast from Burner Stox ricocheting into the sky above.

“Good move, daughter of mine. You didn’t feed her power, nor absorb the shock of the impact.” He angled his shield to ward off Stox’s next discharge and send it upward. “Let’s hope no birds choose to fly over at this time.”

No dragons, either.

“Dragons are too wise to fly over this battle. They are keeping themselves well out of the way. Well, most dragons, anyway.”

Along the edge of the wood, at the top of the hill, Dobkin slinked as if a backdrop of dark trees could camouflage his massive body.

Kale’s eyes widened. Is he tiptoeing?

“He thinks he is. Don’t look directly at him. I don’t want Stox to become aware of his presence and toss fire at the simpleton.”

Dobkin lumbered down the slope, his eye fixed on the evil wizard. When within reaching distance, he stretched out his neck, opened his mouth, and picked her up with his teeth. His mouth covered her entire head, but he didn’t bite down into her neck. He held her, squirming, ten feet above the ground.

She dropped her staffs and reached to take hold of his jaw.

Kale heard her infuriated screech. The dragon’s giant mouth muffled her string of profanity.

Burner Stox must have done something with the fist clutching Dobkin’s right jaw. His lip curled as if hurt. He shook his head and clenched his teeth. Her body fell to the ground minus the head.

Kale gasped and kept her eyes on the poor dragon’s face. She felt a wash of confusion from the large beast. Her father walked calmly up the hill. “You can spit it out, Dobkin. I know it doesn’t taste very good.”