invited Tipper to sing, and she did.
She sang with the chorus of kimens and with Librettowit. But she didn’t feel that her voice melded with their pure tones. The experience left her dissatisfied when, usually, singing gave her a feeling of completion. That troubled her, but she lost the discontent as she enjoyed the music that followed. And then Paladin spoke, and his stories pulled her in. The more she listened to Jayrus today, the more she wanted to listen. Not just because he was attractive, but the words he used attracted her as well.
The long day ended with another wonderful supper. Kimens cleared away the last of the food, and mothers ushered their children to warm beds. Tipper strolled down one of the forest paths, too filled with bliss to enter her tent and calmly go to sleep.
Tipper sat on the edge of a tiny brook, breathing in the cool night air and the fragrance of moonflowers. The spicy-sweet scent burst into the air as the blossoms unfolded in response to the light of a full moon. Tiny sparkle bugs floated on the breeze, giving the air an astonishing shimmer. Drummerbugs supplied the percussion for an eerie insect symphony of trills and hums. As she sat, enjoying the sights, sounds, and scents of the night, the quiver of excitement mellowed into a warm contentment.
She heard footsteps and knew it had to be Paladin. The kimens rarely made noise as they moved. The tumanhofers clumped around. And Wizard Fenworth had gone off somewhere. She looked over hershoulder and smiled at his approach. He cradled something small in his hand against his chest.
“I brought someone to meet you.” He sat down beside her.
She leaned forward to peer into his hand. She could only make out a glowing blob. “Someone?” she asked. The blob stretched, and Tipper made out a tail and head. “A dragon! He’s so small!”
“There are several unusual things about him. He changes color, he’s undersized, as you noted, and he has a remarkable range of abilities.” Paladin ran a fingertip down the tiny dragon’s back. “And he is weak.”
Tipper almost asked if he would die but remembered that the small dragon could probably understand every word she said. “How did he come to be in your care?”
“He bonded with one of the Amber Palace servants. She found the egg in an old shed and kept it. Her name was Bretta.”
“Was?”
“She died of old age.”
“How old is he?”
“Twelve days.”
“Oh, then he didn’t live with her for long.”
“I don’t know for sure, but I think his frailty can be linked to bonding with Bretta when she was so near the end of her life and the sorrow of losing his person.”
“What are you going to do with him?”
“Try to find him a new home.” Paladin looked up from the small creature and caught Tipper’s eye.
She recognized the sparkle for what it was. “Me?”
“You miss Junkit and Zabeth, don’t you?”
“And Hue and Grandur.” She touched the small body resting in Paladin’s large palm. “My mother needs Junkit and Zabeth.”
Paladin nodded but didn’t interrupt.
“And now that my father is … back—I guess that’s the best way to say it—and whole again, I can’t get over worrying that everything will come undone. So I want Grandur there to help with his health. And Hue cheers Papa up.”
“But you need someone too.”
Her eyes darted to his face. How did he know? She had lost her place as the stoic daughter who kept things in order under trying circumstances. Her relationship with Beccaroon had shifted into something she couldn’t identify anymore. She couldn’t say he was her guardian, and he wasn’t exactly a friend.
She shrugged. “I’m all right.”
Paladin grinned. “You’re more than all right. But that doesn’t make your situation any less lonely. Would you hold my young friend for a minute?”
At her nod, he gently transferred the glowing dragon into her cupped hands.
The dragon stretched and rubbed his sides on her skin. He
She sang with the chorus of kimens and with Librettowit. But she didn’t feel that her voice melded with their pure tones. The experience left her dissatisfied when, usually, singing gave her a feeling of completion. That troubled her, but she lost the discontent as she enjoyed the music that followed. And then Paladin spoke, and his stories pulled her in. The more she listened to Jayrus today, the more she wanted to listen. Not just because he was attractive, but the words he used attracted her as well.
The long day ended with another wonderful supper. Kimens cleared away the last of the food, and mothers ushered their children to warm beds. Tipper strolled down one of the forest paths, too filled with bliss to enter her tent and calmly go to sleep.
Tipper sat on the edge of a tiny brook, breathing in the cool night air and the fragrance of moonflowers. The spicy-sweet scent burst into the air as the blossoms unfolded in response to the light of a full moon. Tiny sparkle bugs floated on the breeze, giving the air an astonishing shimmer. Drummerbugs supplied the percussion for an eerie insect symphony of trills and hums. As she sat, enjoying the sights, sounds, and scents of the night, the quiver of excitement mellowed into a warm contentment.
She heard footsteps and knew it had to be Paladin. The kimens rarely made noise as they moved. The tumanhofers clumped around. And Wizard Fenworth had gone off somewhere. She looked over hershoulder and smiled at his approach. He cradled something small in his hand against his chest.
“I brought someone to meet you.” He sat down beside her.
She leaned forward to peer into his hand. She could only make out a glowing blob. “Someone?” she asked. The blob stretched, and Tipper made out a tail and head. “A dragon! He’s so small!”
“There are several unusual things about him. He changes color, he’s undersized, as you noted, and he has a remarkable range of abilities.” Paladin ran a fingertip down the tiny dragon’s back. “And he is weak.”
Tipper almost asked if he would die but remembered that the small dragon could probably understand every word she said. “How did he come to be in your care?”
“He bonded with one of the Amber Palace servants. She found the egg in an old shed and kept it. Her name was Bretta.”
“Was?”
“She died of old age.”
“How old is he?”
“Twelve days.”
“Oh, then he didn’t live with her for long.”
“I don’t know for sure, but I think his frailty can be linked to bonding with Bretta when she was so near the end of her life and the sorrow of losing his person.”
“What are you going to do with him?”
“Try to find him a new home.” Paladin looked up from the small creature and caught Tipper’s eye.
She recognized the sparkle for what it was. “Me?”
“You miss Junkit and Zabeth, don’t you?”
“And Hue and Grandur.” She touched the small body resting in Paladin’s large palm. “My mother needs Junkit and Zabeth.”
Paladin nodded but didn’t interrupt.
“And now that my father is … back—I guess that’s the best way to say it—and whole again, I can’t get over worrying that everything will come undone. So I want Grandur there to help with his health. And Hue cheers Papa up.”
“But you need someone too.”
Her eyes darted to his face. How did he know? She had lost her place as the stoic daughter who kept things in order under trying circumstances. Her relationship with Beccaroon had shifted into something she couldn’t identify anymore. She couldn’t say he was her guardian, and he wasn’t exactly a friend.
She shrugged. “I’m all right.”
Paladin grinned. “You’re more than all right. But that doesn’t make your situation any less lonely. Would you hold my young friend for a minute?”
At her nod, he gently transferred the glowing dragon into her cupped hands.
The dragon stretched and rubbed his sides on her skin. He
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