DragonLight by Donita K. Paul

her parents in her own version of the gateway. Then Namee showed her how to fold it, and he gave her a cylinder in which to keep her new toy.
    Wizard Cam lifted his sphere in the air and examined it. “We should give these gadgets a name. It’s awkward saying, ‘The new gateway invented by Namee and Regidor.’”
    Sora held hers up. “The Nagidor? The Regimee? The Meedor?”
    “I like the Meedor,” said Vog.
    “Humph,” said Cam. “That’s a rather silly name. I was thinking more on the lines of the message portal.”
    “How dull,” said Sora.
    “Descriptive,” said Cam.
    “We could shorten it to MP,” suggested Vog.
    “MP?” Sora scowled. “Mounted Patrol. Male Parrots. Magnificent Pottery. More Potatoes. I don’t like MP at all. MP could be almost anything. Massive Pimples.”
    Namee took a step toward the plains wizard. “You’ve proved your point, Sora.”
    “Monkey Poop.”
    “Sora!”
    She squinted her eyes and glared at Namee. “Mean People.”
    Namee sneered. “Missing Propriety.”
    “Silence,” bellowed Cam. Water sprayed from his arms and shoulders, dousing the disputing wizards.
    He glared at Sora as she opened her mouth. She pressed her lips together in a firm line.
    “We shall call it, if Regidor and Namee concur, the talking gateway.” He moved his pointing finger around the room as he scanned the faces of the other wizards. “Are there any objections?”
    The four other wizards shook their heads.
    Cam lowered his arm. “Fine. Let us take these talking gateways out into Amara and share them with our fellow wizards. I foresee they shall be a great convenience.”

          12          
    B UZZ
    The clamor of nine minor dragons in full alarm woke Kale with a start. She threw aside her blankets and jumped to her feet, grabbing her sword. The empty campground didn’t give her a clue. When they left Namee’s castle, Toopka had gone with Sir Dar to find Sittiponder. They’d meet up again farther along on the quest. Bardon was nowhere in sight, but he’d stirred up the fire in preparation for cooking. She glanced at the stream and surmised he’d gone fishing.
    Greer and Celisse still grazed in the meadow some distance away. As she watched, they lifted their heads and stared off toward the mountains.
    Kale tried to decipher the urgent calls from her dragons, but the noise would not separate into distinct words or images. The best she could envision from their thoughts was a swarm of big bees. She lowered her weapon. Her sword would be of little use swatting insects.
    The minor dragons fell silent. Kale heard the drone of the approaching horde and gave the command, “Fly.”
    She dove under the blanket and made sure none of her skin was exposed. At first her covering muffled the sound of the swarm, but then she heard the buzz distinctly. The slam of what felt like a rock against her leg surprised her completely. Kale jerked but remembered in time to keep herself swathed in the blanket. She was pelted again and again. Some of the hits stung and some burned. She rolled away from the campsite, hoping to reach the stream.
    Kale tuned in to the commotion outside her cloth shell and recognized that her dragons had engaged this enemy in battle. She heard Bardon’s battle cry and knew he had joined them. The smell of smoke alerted her to another danger. She realized the strikes that felt like burns were exactly that. Bits of fire dotted the blanket. She quit rolling and struggled to free herself from the tangled cocoon.
    A sudden calm enveloped her as her mind connected to her fighting husband. He swung his sword with practiced ease and batted small flying creatures from the air. She knew he had fought these black dragon-things before, and recently.
    Dragon? These things are dragons? How—? Where—?
Putting aside the questions that bombarded her, she tore away the last of the shroud and rose to her feet, expecting to fight beside her husband. The black dragons abandoned