Dragons of the Valley Read Online Free PDF

thought it was a dream. Whatever. I’m glad to see you again, and to make up for the delay in following through with your bidding, I will take you on a whirl. Some people get a little motion sickness, but I’m quite sure you are of a stronger constitution.”
    Fenworth crossed the room to snatch the remaining statue and then hurried to put his arm around Librettowit’s shoulders.
    “Oh no!” said the librarian. “I’ve no wish to go swirling with you.”
    “Whirling,” corrected the wizard. “A slight technical difference.”
    “No,” said Librettowit.
    A rush of wind swept through, the noise of which assailed the occupants of the room without the evidence of anything being blown. One moment, Beccaroon saw the two men, a frantic female kimen, and the statue. The next, they were gone.

4
Where Are We?
    Bealomondore groaned and opened his eyes slowly. Flowers canopied over him. He sat up, only to be repulsed by thorny branches that held grapelike clusters of purple blooms. He leaned back and tried to make sense of his situation.
    He remembered the kimens in the tavern, and he vaguely remembered the name of this bush. Was it wild cascade? He shook his head and regretted the sharp movement. He swallowed an unpleasant taste in his mouth and tried to think. Details of what had happened between his head falling to the rough-hewn boards of a back-room table and this floral awakening eluded him.
    “Sorry about the headache.”
    He turned toward the soft voice. “Maxon? What am I doing here?”
    The kimen lay on his stomach, peering under the foliage. His pointed chin rested on his folded hands. His eyebrow-less expression made him look as surprised to find Bealomondore under a flowering cascade bush as the tumanhofer himself was.
    “You drugged me.”
    A smile flitted across the kimen’s face. “Technically Winkel drugged you.”
    “Why?”
    “To get you here without your seeing how to get here.”
    Bealomondore’s head pounded. “Wouldn’t a blindfold have worked? A sack over my head? You could have just said, ‘Don’t look.’ ”
    “The first two are worthy suggestions. I’ll mention them to our leaders. The last is something that might not prove reliable for all our guests.”
    Closing his eyes, Bealomondore tried to relax against the pain, diffusing it. “You have lots of company, do you?”
    “Not so much.”
    The tumanhofer put his palm against his forehead and tried to press away his suffering. Surely his brains had turned to coarse rocks and some imp had stirred them with a heavy lead pole. He heard vague rustling noises and turned his attention to his surroundings.
    “Here,” said the kimen. “I’ve got something for your pain.”
    Bealomondore squinted as he turned his head. Maxon held out a white egg-shaped object the size of the tumanhofer’s thumb. It completely covered the kimen’s palm.
    “What is it?”
    “A seedpod. Just pop it in your mouth and chew. You’ll feel much better.”
    “It’s not an egg?”
    “No, it’s a seedpod.”
    “It looks like an insect egg.”
    “It’s a seedpod.”
    The tumanhofer wrinkled his nose. “What kind of seedpod?”
    Maxon thrust the object closer to Bealomondore’s face. “A medicinal seedpod. Do you want it or not?”
    Bealomondore took it, slipped it between his lips, and crunched. The shell broke, and a sweet juice flowed over his tongue. The taste alone pacified his warring nerves.
    “Umm, good,” he said, then frowned at Maxon. “What kind of seedpod has a liquid center?”
    “This kind.”
    “Is it raw?”
    “Raw works best.”
    Bealomondore chewed and swallowed. He immediately felt the effect of the medicinal seedpod.
    “Want another?” asked Maxon.
    “Yes.”
    Maxon offered another egglike pod, this one a pale green. Bealomondore took it without question. This seed husk had a crunchy center with a tangy taste, leaving him fully alert.
    Without the nagging headache and with his mind clear, Bealomondore conjured up a list