DragonQuest by Donita K. Paul Page B

thin reptile lips. His nostrils were slits instead of round holes, and his squarish nose dominated his face. Black oblong pupils slanted across his green eyes, and instead of hairy eyebrows, his face folded in a lizardlike brow. His hairless head and neck were shaped like an o’rant’s but were covered with lustrous blue scales without visible ears. He leaned forward at the waist, staring at her.
    Out of his toothy mouth, a bass voice rattled from deep within his chest. “She’s awake.” The creature’s delighted cry sounded like it belonged to a blacksmith.
    “Regidor?” Kale asked.
    “That’s me. You’ve been asleep forever.” The childlike words in the voice of a grown man made her laugh.
    Gymn and Metta spread their wings and took to the air. They flew into the space above her head and did an acrobatic dance. She listened in on the jumble of excitement in their minds. To her, it was as if they were both speaking at once. Their thoughts bubbled with anticipation. The two tiny dragons zoomed out the open window, intent on telling the others that she was awake.
    “Fenworth’s mad,” said Regidor. “But that’s all right. He’s always grouchy. Librettowit brought you through the gateway, and Fenworth fixed you. I’ve been playing with Gymn and Metta. Toopka taught me to play marbles. I taught her the letters I know. I know all of them. She doesn’t know how to read yet, and she’s old. We’re friends now.”
    “How long have I been asleep?”
    “Forever.”
    “Oh yes, you said that before.”
    “But now you’re awake, and we can be friends. We’re going to learn to be wizards together, if Fenworth doesn’t throw me to the mordakleeps first.”
    Kale sat up and looked at Regidor’s hand still resting lightly in her own. Four fingers and a thumb. Narrow nails that just missed being claws.
    So this is a meech dragon.
    She looked into his friendly, eager face. “Wizard Fenworth won’t throw you to the mordakleeps,” she assured the young creature. “He doesn’t like mordakleeps.”
    “I know.” Regidor shrugged narrow shoulders. “When he says that, I go climb in the branches. Later he makes tea and daggarts. He makes good daggarts. And nordy rolls. I like nordy rolls.”
    “I don’t remember Wizard Fenworth cooking much.”
    “I know.” The dragon shrugged again. “That’s because Dar was here. I know all about Dar and the quest for the meech egg. The meech egg was me. And Wizard Risto. Risto is bad. And Librettowit burns things, because he reads instead of stirring. I’m going to learn to cook. I can already make tea. If you bring Fenworth a cup of tea when he’s cranky, he says, ‘Thank you.’ He does it to model good behavior. Librettowit says they have to model good behavior. I have to
do
good behavior but not model it, because there is no one to watch me modeling. Except now maybe I will model good behavior for Toopka.”
    “You don’t have to model good behavior for me.” Toopka entered the room and bounced onto the bed, scooting up close to Kale’s other side and glaring at the meech dragon. “I have excellent manners for a street urchin. Bardon said so.”
    Regidor shook his head. “He was just being nice.”
    “Was not!”
    “Was so!
    Kale sat up. “Enough foolish arguing.”
    The two stopped glaring at each other and turned frowning faces to her. For a moment she frowned back at them, not because of their quarreling, but because she had just heard herself sounding exactly like Mistress Meiger, the woman who had overseen her life as a slave.
    A light tap on the door drew their attention. Bardon stuck his head around the wooden frame, and when he saw her sitting up, he came in.
    “You’re looking better.” He stopped at the foot of the bed, towering over them. “Are you hungry?”
    “Yes!” said Toopka, springing to her feet and dancing among the cushions that made Kale’s bed.
    Kale and Regidor laughed, but Bardon scowled at the little doneel. “I was