{"product_id":"dragonspell-isbn-9781578568239","title":"DragonSpell","description":"\u003cb\u003eOne Dragon Egg Holds the Key to the Future.\u003c\/b\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e When Kale, a slave girl, finds a dragon egg, she is given the unexpected  opportunity to become a servant to Paladin. But on her way to  The Hall, where she was to be trained, Kale runs into danger. Rescued by a  small band of Paladin’s servants, Kale is turned from her destination. \u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eFeeling afraid and unprepared, Kale embarks  on a perilous quest to find the meech dragon egg stolen by the foul Wizard Risto. But their journey is threatened  when a key member of the party is captured, leaving the remaining companions to find  the Wizard Fenworth, attempt an impossible rescue, and recover the egg--whose true value they  have not begun to suspect.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e Weaving together memorable characters, daring adventure,  and a core of eternal truth, \u003ci\u003eDragonspell\u003c\/i\u003e--the first book in the Dragon Keepers Chronicles--is a finely crafted and welcome addition  to the corpus of fantasy fiction.“In Dragonspell, Donita K. Paul has created an amazing world of fantasy adventure. From riding on dragons to jumping off cliffs to moving mountains, this story is sure to spark a reader’s imagination–young and old. And with a message of identity transformed from slavery to servanthood, it’s a book families will love reading and discussing together.”\u003cbr\u003e\u003cb\u003e\u003ci\u003e–Christopher P. N. Maselli, children’s author of Reality Shift and founder of TruthPop.com\u003cbr\u003e\u003c\/i\u003e\u003c\/b\u003e\u003cbr\u003e“A reluctant heroine, her fainting dragon, and an assortment of colorful companions make for a delightful read in Donita K. Paul’s Dragonspell. This is adventure and fantasy at its finest–a must read for the imaginative soul.”\u003cbr\u003e\u003cb\u003e\u003ci\u003e–Linda Windsor, award-winning author of Along Came Jones and the Fires of Gleannmara trilogy\u003cbr\u003e\u003c\/i\u003e\u003c\/b\u003e\u003cbr\u003e“Dragonspell is a fine, well-written tale guaranteed to entertain both old and young alike. This was proven in our household when our eleven-year-old son snatched up the book and devoured it. Upon returning it, he exclaimed, ‘It’s good!’ –high praise from a rabid fan of Tolkein, Lewis, Jacques and company. I can only nod my head in agreement.”\u003cbr\u003e\u003cb\u003e\u003ci\u003e–Christopher A. Lane, Gold Medallion and C.S. Lewis award-winning author of children’s and adult fiction\u003cbr\u003e\u003c\/i\u003e\u003c\/b\u003e\u003cbr\u003e“Inventive, engaging, witty, insightful, touching, and profound–Dragonspell is all this and more. If Donita K. Paul’s only intention was to create a world where readers encounter novelties and wonders at every turn, then she has succeeded admirably. But she actually does much more than this: she enables us to see our relationship with God and His world through new eyes. A delight for all true fans of fantasy literature.” \u003cbr\u003e\u003cb\u003e\u003ci\u003e–Jim Ware, author of God of the Fairy Tale and co-author of Finding God in the Lord of the Rings\u003cbr\u003e\u003c\/i\u003e\u003c\/b\u003e\u003cbr\u003e“Enchanting! A perilous quest, a timeless battle, an unlikely heroine, and a rousing adventure in a world of magic and mystery–Donita K. Paul has concocted a tale brimming with eternal truth and seasoned with delightful and amazing characters that linger in the senses long after the last page. Dragonspell is destined to become a classic for a new generation of adventurers!”\u003cbr\u003e\u003cb\u003e\u003ci\u003e–Susan May Warren, award-winning author of Happily Ever After\u003cbr\u003e\u003c\/i\u003e\u003c\/b\u003e\u003cbr\u003e“The greatest thing any author can do is to catch you up and transport you right into the very scene, the very action, the story . . . in such a way that you live the book, not merely read it.  That is exactly what Donita K. Paul does with Dragonspell.  For a few hours, you will take a journey to a place you have never been, with a story you will never forget.  Enjoy the trip!”\u003cbr\u003e\u003cb\u003e\u003ci\u003e–Stephen Bly, author of Paperback Writer and Christy-award-winning The Long Trail Home\u003cbr\u003e\u003c\/i\u003e\u003c\/b\u003e\u003cbr\u003e“Dragonspell is a tightly written fantasy quest set in an extraordinarily rendered storyworld. With seven intelligent races, seven evil races, several delightful dragons, one weird wizard, and an endless supply of exotic plants and animals, you will NOT be bored.”\u003cbr\u003e\u003cb\u003e\u003ci\u003e–Randy Ingermanson, Christy award-winning author of Oxygen and Premonition\u003cbr\u003e\u003c\/i\u003e\u003c\/b\u003e\u003cbr\u003e“No one will ever be able to read this and doubt that Christian fantasy is a viable genre for spreading God’s word.” \u003cbr\u003e\u003cb\u003e\u003ci\u003e–Christine Lynxwiler, president of American Christian Romance Writers\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003c\/i\u003e\u003c\/b\u003e“Charming, well-drawn characters, a story chock full of adventures and misadventures, a land populated with dragons, doneels, emerlindians, grawligs, and all sorts of other fascinating inhabitants–I ask you, what more could any reader want? With Dragonspell, Donita K. Paul has nailed a complex and engaging fantasy world. Whether nine or ninety, you won’t be disappointed.”\u003cbr\u003e\u003cb\u003e\u003ci\u003e–Kathleen Morgan, author of Consuming Fire and All Good Gifts\u003cbr\u003e\u003c\/i\u003e\u003c\/b\u003e\u003cbr\u003e“Dragonspell has a heart-thumping, page-turning plot that is sure to captivate and enthrall even the most reluctant reader!”\u003cbr\u003e\u003cb\u003e\u003ci\u003e–Peggy Wilber, author of Reading Rescue 1-2-3\u003cbr\u003e\u003c\/i\u003e\u003c\/b\u003e\u003cb\u003eDonita K. Paul\u003c\/b\u003e is the author of \u003ci\u003eThe Dragons of Chiril, Dragons of the Valley, \u003c\/i\u003eand  the bestselling DragonKeeper Chronicles with more than a quarter of a  million books in print. She enjoys cooking, beading, stamping, knitting,  and her grandsons. Not necessarily in that order. Visit her website at  DonitaKPaul.com.\u003cb\u003eChapter One\u003c\/b\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003cb\u003eAlmost There\u003c\/b\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e“Are ye sure ye won’t ride all the way into the city?”\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eKale hardly heard the farmer’s question as she stood beside his wagonload of barley grain. Her eyes looked over the crude cart she’d traveled in and then turned to the dazzling metropolis across the wide valley. The sun sparkled on Vendela, a city of sheer white walls, shining blue roofs, and golden domes. Many spires and steeples and turrets towered above the city, but in a vast variety of shapes and colors. More than a dozen castles clustered outside the capital, and more palaces were scattered over the landscape\u003cbr\u003eacross a wide river.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eSeeing Vendela reminded Kale her life had changed forever. Her hand\u003cbr\u003erose to her chest and rested on the small pouch hidden under her clothes.\u003cbr\u003e\u003ci\u003e\u003cbr\u003eI have a destiny. \u003c\/i\u003eThe thought scared her and pleased her too. After\u003cbr\u003ebeing a village slave all fourteen years of her life, she’d been freed.\u003cbr\u003e\u003ci\u003e\u003cbr\u003eWell, sort of free.\u003cbr\u003e\u003c\/i\u003e\u003cbr\u003eOne week ago she’d left River Away, her village of two dozen homes,\u003cbr\u003ea shop, a tavern, and a meetinghouse. In maybe another week, she’d go\u003cbr\u003ethrough the tall gates of the most beautiful walled city in all of Amara,\u003cbr\u003equite possibly in the entire civilized world. It would take a week to get used\u003cbr\u003eto the clamor. She could feel it from here.\u003cbr\u003e\u003ci\u003e\u003cbr\u003eI’d go mad in my head if I stepped into Vendela tonight.\u003cbr\u003e\u003c\/i\u003e\u003cbr\u003eThe city pulsated with thoughts and feelings of more people than she\u003cbr\u003ecould count. On market day in River Away, she endured thirty or forty\u003cbr\u003epeople close enough for her to feel their lives bumping against the walls of\u003cbr\u003eher inner person. But Vendela…\u003cbr\u003e\u003ci\u003e\u003cbr\u003eI might smother. I’ll go slowly into that city. Nobody knows I’m coming. I\u003cbr\u003edon’t have to hurry. A mile or so a day. Slow, till it feels comfortable.\u003cbr\u003e\u003c\/i\u003e\u003cbr\u003eA lot of things worried her. It was easy to say you were glad not to be\u003cbr\u003ea slave any longer. It was hard to walk alone into a place you’d never been\u003cbr\u003ebefore. Nobody knew or cared about her in Vendela. In River Away, most\u003cbr\u003eeverybody cared, even if the caring revolved around whether or not she\u003cbr\u003eworked hard.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e“Girl!” The old man’s bark jerked Kale from her thoughts. He scowled\u003cbr\u003eat her. “I’m going right into the city. Ye might as well ride with me.”\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e“Thank you, Farmer Brigg, but I’d just as soon walk the rest of the\u003cbr\u003eway. I can look at how pretty Vendela is.”\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eShe smiled up at him, feeling some affection for the gruff old man.\u003cbr\u003eShe’d ridden the last leg of her journey beside him on the wide wooden\u003cbr\u003eseat. He’d been kind to her, sharing his bread and cheese and stories of all\u003cbr\u003ethe wonders in the great city. Nevertheless, Kale would not be rushed into\u003cbr\u003eentering Vendela. She’d do it in her own time.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e“Ye’re headed for The Hall, aren’t ye?” His pale blue eyes twinkled\u003cbr\u003eunder bushy gray eyebrows.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eKale didn’t answer. To say yes would give away more about herself\u003cbr\u003ethan she intended. Not such a good idea, trusting someone outside your\u003cbr\u003eown village, even a grandfatherly, talkative old farmer.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e“Well, I see ye’re not going to tell me.” He winked at her and then\u003cbr\u003elooked off at the city, his expression growing grim. “Should ye get in\u003cbr\u003etrouble, go to The Goose and The Gander Tavern, North City. Ask for\u003cbr\u003eMaye. Tell her ye’re a friend of mine, and she’ll help ye if she can.”\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e“I will,” said Kale, and waved good-bye to the old man before trudging\u003cbr\u003eup the hill, away from the road. She listened to the squeak of the axle\u003cbr\u003eand creak of the wheels but didn’t turn to watch the farmer’s wagon lumber\u003cbr\u003edown the sloping road. Among an hour’s worth of advice, Mistress\u003cbr\u003eMeiger had said to keep her focus on what’s ahead.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eKale sighed. \u003ci\u003eMistress Meiger knows best.\u003cbr\u003e\u003c\/i\u003eLush gorse bushes covered the grassy slope. The hill nestled right\u003cbr\u003eagainst one of the mountains. Farmer Brigg had known the names of all\u003cbr\u003ethe peaks in the Morchain Range. His stories of how these names came to\u003cbr\u003ebe fascinated Kale, but it was tales of Vendela that caught her attention.\u003cbr\u003eAfter all, Vendela would be her home.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eJust over the rise, she found a place to settle. She sat with her back to\u003cbr\u003ea gum tree, her bare feet propped up on a stone outcropping. She rested\u003cbr\u003eher arms on knees pulled up to her chin and her chin on her folded arms.\u003cbr\u003eThen Kale took a long peaceful breath of the hot summer air and allowed\u003cbr\u003eherself the luxury of gazing at beautiful Vendela. The twisting spires and\u003cbr\u003efloating spheres were beyond anything she had imagined. The whole scene\u003cbr\u003elooked like a magical picture, clean and bright and full of promise.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003ePulling the thong at her neck, Kale drew out a soft scarlet pouch.\u003cbr\u003eShe placed it between her hands, gently rubbing the material, enjoying\u003cbr\u003ethe satin finish, elated by the secret of the stonelike egg within. The egg\u003cbr\u003ewarmed, responding to her excitement. It thrummed. The gentle vibration\u003cbr\u003ecommunicated joy and anticipation through Kale’s sensitive fingers.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eWith her eyes back on the city, Kale talked aloud. “In a week we’ll be\u003cbr\u003egoing to The Hall. I’ll be a servant of the people then, not a slave. That’s\u003cbr\u003ehigher class than I ever dreamed of being. Fancy food, fancy clothes, fancy\u003cbr\u003eeducation.”\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eShe smoothed the silky cloth at her throat with one rough hand. Mistress\u003cbr\u003eMeiger had given her the long blue scarf the night her husband, Chief\u003cbr\u003eCouncilman Meiger, told Kale to go to Vendela. The rest of Kale’s homespun\u003cbr\u003eattire reflected her social status. Her trousers had two patches, one at\u003cbr\u003ethe knee and one at her seat. She wore a shirt, a tunic, and the blue scarf.\u003cbr\u003eTravel dust covered every inch of her. She’d find a stream and clean up\u003cbr\u003ebefore entering Vendela.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eA new life awaited her in that beautiful city. Not one person in all of\u003cbr\u003eRiver Away remembered a time when a local had been sent to The Hall.\u003cbr\u003eMaster Meiger said to hold the honor tight. Kale held it tight all right, if\u003cbr\u003eonly to convince herself she wasn’t scared like a squawking peeper fallen\u003cbr\u003eout of the nest.\u003cbr\u003e\u003ci\u003e\u003cbr\u003eFocus on what’s ahead.\u003cbr\u003e\u003c\/i\u003e\u003cbr\u003e“We’ll travel and do Paladin’s bidding.” She grinned at that. “Sounds\u003cbr\u003epretty high and mighty for the likes of me.”\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eFor a few moments, she stared at the fairy-tale castles surrounding the\u003cbr\u003ewalled city. Seven bridges in jewel colors crossed the Pomandando River\u003cbr\u003eon the eastern side. Each bridge led to a towering entrance to the inner city.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e“People from each of the seven high races cross those bridges at one\u003cbr\u003etime or another,” she whispered.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eThe wall in the River Away Tavern had a mural of a brotherhood\u003cbr\u003emarching across a mountain pass. Each of the races was represented.\u003cbr\u003eCrudely drawn, the figures nonetheless looked excited to be adventuring.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eKale imagined a similar procession crossing one of the great bridges.\u003cbr\u003e“Bantam doneels, giant urohms, the elegant emerlindians, fighting mariones,\u003cbr\u003etumanhofers, swift kimens, and o’rants.” Kale sighed. “O’rants, like\u003cbr\u003eme. Chief Councilman Meiger said he thought I was an o’rant though he’d\u003cbr\u003enever seen one. Another reason for me to go to The Hall, he said.”\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eShe squinted as a large, dark shape swooped over the far mountains\u003cbr\u003eand headed for Vendela. She jumped to her feet and could not keep from\u003cbr\u003ebouncing on her toes as she recognized a Greater Dragon. It circled the\u003cbr\u003ecity, a dark silhouette passing in front of the iridescent white towers.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eKale tucked the pouch safely back into her shirt and scrambled up the\u003cbr\u003esteep hillside, hoping for a better view. She stopped and gave a whoop as\u003cbr\u003eshe saw two more of the majestic creatures crest the mountains and make\u003cbr\u003ea downward approach to Vendela.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eClimbing the sharp incline on her hands and knees now, Kale grabbed\u003cbr\u003ebranches and jagged rocks to hoist herself up. She topped the embankment\u003cbr\u003eand rolled over the edge.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eGuttural shouts greeted her arrival. Rough, hairy hands grabbed her\u003cbr\u003earms and legs. A putrid smell filled her nose, and her mouth watered in\u003cbr\u003erevulsion. Her stomach lurched. \u003ci\u003eGrawligs?\u003cbr\u003e\u003c\/i\u003e\u003cbr\u003eKale had heard tales told in the tavern. Nothing smelled as bad as the\u003cbr\u003emountain ogres. She saw dark hairy legs, a leather loincloth, tattered cloth\u003cbr\u003ehanging over a barrel chest, fat lips, yellowed teeth, a grossly flabby nose,\u003cbr\u003eand tiny eyes, solidly black. \u003ci\u003eGrawligs!\u003cbr\u003e\u003c\/i\u003e\u003cbr\u003eTwo of the mountain ogres flipped her through the air. Her muscles\u003cbr\u003etightened as she expected to come crashing down among the rocks. Instead,\u003cbr\u003eanother grawlig snatched her before she hit the ground, and a screech\u003cbr\u003eripped from her mouth. A burst of raucous laughter greeted her alarm.\u003cbr\u003eHer captors joyfully sped up their game of toss.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eOne grawlig claimed her as his prize. He slung her over his shoulder,\u003cbr\u003ehis hard muscles smashing into her middle, forcing the air from her lungs.\u003cbr\u003eHe gave a hoot of triumph and ran around the crude camp with the others\u003cbr\u003echasing him. Kale hung upside down with her arms dangling. Her face\u003cbr\u003ebounced into the oily, matted hair on his back.\u003cbr\u003e\u003ci\u003e\u003cbr\u003eThey’ll kill me! They’ll play with me, then kill me.\u003cbr\u003e\u003c\/i\u003e\u003cbr\u003eThe grawlig’s beefy hands tightened on her thighs, and she felt herself\u003cbr\u003eswung in an arc over his head. He jumped and twisted, performing some\u003cbr\u003ekind of ritual dance with the others howling and gyrating around them.\u003cbr\u003eKale desperately tried to pull in one cleansing breath of air.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e“Stupid o’rant. Stupid o’rant.” The ogre’s taunt filled her ears. “We\u003cbr\u003eheard you coming.”\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eHe released Kale and launched her frail body across the clearing toward\u003cbr\u003ethe ridge she had climbed. Just before she sailed over the thirty-foot drop,\u003cbr\u003eanother grawlig caught her by an arm and the back of her tunic. He swung\u003cbr\u003eher over his head, chanting.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e“Stupid o’rant. Stupid o’rant. We heard you coming.”\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eHe changed the angle of the swing. Now her head came within inches\u003cbr\u003eof the ground and then high above the grawlig’s massive skull. Pain roared\u003cbr\u003ewithin her head with every sweep. On the next swing downward, she\u003cbr\u003efought darkness closing in around her. She lost.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eChapter Two\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eInto the Mountain\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eOld leaves, moldy and partially decomposed, softened the ground beneath\u003cbr\u003eKale. Her nose wrinkled against the musty smell. Her head felt like a\u003cbr\u003ecracked melon, and her eyes refused to open. Her stomach wanted to\u003cbr\u003eheave. The putrid smell of rotting garbage tormented her.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eShe shifted. A hard lump pressed against her rib cage. The egg! The\u003cbr\u003erock-hard egg was still intact. Kale tried to sit. Bindings around her wrists\u003cbr\u003eand ankles stopped her. \u003ci\u003eGrawligs!\u003cbr\u003e\u003c\/i\u003e\u003cbr\u003eShe remembered the huge hairy grawligs and their rowdy game. She\u003cbr\u003efelt again the helplessness of being tossed from one rough ogre to another.\u003cbr\u003eTerror sickened her. They hadn’t killed her, but she felt that every muscle\u003cbr\u003ein her body had been stomped on.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eShe slitted her eyes open and peered at her surroundings. Grawligs lay\u003cbr\u003esprawled around a campfire. Beyond the light cast by burning logs, night\u003cbr\u003eshadows hid the forest. Two females turned spits, roasting what looked like\u003cbr\u003elarge deer. A group lounged almost in a pile under trees across the clearing.\u003cbr\u003eThey made loud rhythmic noises Kale assumed must be a song.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eNo one seemed to be interested in the captive trussed up and lying\u003cbr\u003eunder a bush. Two grawligs sat just a few feet away as if they’d been set to\u003cbr\u003eguard her. Even they ignored her. They picked over a knee-high pile of\u003cbr\u003edirty mushrooms, popping them into their drooling mouths, smacking\u003cbr\u003etheir lips as they chomped on the treats.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eKale closed her eyes against the sight, hoping to protect her stomach.\u003cbr\u003eThe repulsive smell of the grawligs could not be shut out so easily. To distract\u003cbr\u003eherself, she searched her memory for tales of the mountain ogres.\u003cbr\u003e\u003ci\u003e\u003cbr\u003eWhat’s true and what’s fable?\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eIn the stories, they eat anything they catch. Lucky for me, it looks like they\u003cbr\u003eprefer roasted venison to roasted o’rant.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eDumb and vicious. I think I can testify to that much.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eAfraid of tight places? Maybe.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eClumsy with their fingers.\u003cbr\u003e\u003c\/i\u003e\u003cbr\u003eMoving her head just enough to look down, Kale examined the cloth\u003cbr\u003ebinding her hands together. She wiggled her wrists, and the loose knot\u003cbr\u003eunraveled.\u003cbr\u003e\u003ci\u003e\u003cbr\u003eWell, they don’t tie knots very well.\u003cbr\u003e\u003c\/i\u003e\u003cbr\u003eShe glanced up at her guards to see if they’d noticed her movements.\u003cbr\u003eThey were still bent on stuffing the forest fungi past their flabby lips.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eCarefully, she moved her ankles apart an inch, and then back and\u003cbr\u003eforth until she could slip her bare feet out of the binding.\u003cbr\u003e\u003ci\u003e\u003cbr\u003eCan I escape?\u003cbr\u003e\u003c\/i\u003e\u003cbr\u003eShe watched the two grawligs push dirt-encrusted mushrooms into\u003cbr\u003etheir mouths. Their pile dwindled with every minute. Soon they would\u003cbr\u003ehave nothing to distract them. Could she crawl away? Would they turn\u003cbr\u003eand catch her? Should she wait until the females declared the roasting deer\u003cbr\u003edone and passed the meat around?\u003cbr\u003e\u003ci\u003e\u003cbr\u003eIf I wait too long, I’ll probably be dessert.\u003cbr\u003e\u003c\/i\u003e\u003cbr\u003eKale made her decision. Rolling onto her stomach, she crawled deeper\u003cbr\u003einto the bushes surrounding the camp. The grawligs’ caterwauling covered\u003cbr\u003ethe crunch of leaves and twigs under her as she slithered away from the\u003cbr\u003elight. On the other side of low bushes she found herself against boulders,\u003cbr\u003epart of the mountain looming over the smaller hills.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eShe rose to her hands and knees and crept another ten yards. Then on\u003cbr\u003eher feet, but still nearly doubled over, she followed the jumble of rocks.\u003cbr\u003eHer muscles protested, but she pushed on.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eDistance muffled the noisy voices of her captors. Kale breathed more\u003cbr\u003edeeply, begging her body to relax. Surely tension caused as much of her\u003cbr\u003epain as the injuries inflicted by the grawligs.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eA shout went up from the camp, followed by a clamor of voices and\u003cbr\u003ehowls from the angry brutes.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eKale quickened her pace, looking over her shoulder, expecting to see\u003cbr\u003edark, hairy shapes rising out of the forest to chase her. One misplaced foot\u003cbr\u003eslipped into a hole, and she found herself sliding, not away from the rocks\u003cbr\u003eand down the mountainside, but into a narrow opening under a huge\u003cbr\u003eboulder. She grabbed for roots to try and break her fall. Loose dirt rained\u003cbr\u003edown around her as she continued to scrabble, sliding ten feet farther\u003cbr\u003ebefore landing on a hard rock floor.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eThe impact jarred her aching body. She clenched her teeth and\u003cbr\u003esqueezed her eyes shut against the pain. Debris still showered on her head.\u003cbr\u003eInstinctively, she lifted her arms to cover her hair.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eThe last trickle of dirt slowed and then settled. Kale relaxed her jaw\u003cbr\u003eand opened her eyes. Pitch dark surrounded her. She listened and heard\u003cbr\u003ethe \u003ci\u003eplink \u003c\/i\u003eof dripping water somewhere behind her. She shivered. Goosebumps\u003cbr\u003erose on her arms.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eCold and frightened, she looked around for a means to escape. Peering\u003cbr\u003eupward, she could make out the opening and the starry sky beyond.\u003cbr\u003e\u003ci\u003e\u003cbr\u003eA cave. This may be good. Aren’t grawligs afraid of closed-in places? I sure\u003cbr\u003ehope so.\u003cbr\u003e\u003c\/i\u003e\u003cbr\u003eA scuffling warned her that the grawligs were tramping around in the\u003cbr\u003eforest above her.\u003cbr\u003e\u003ci\u003e\u003cbr\u003eMaybe they’ll just pass on by.\u003cbr\u003e\u003c\/i\u003e\u003cbr\u003eShe heard branches snap, grunts and low voices, and an excited exclamation.\u003cbr\u003eShe’d been found. The heads of three ugly grawligs blocked out\u003cbr\u003ethe dim light from above.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eThey chanted, “Stupid o’rant. Stupid o’rant. We smelled you.”\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eKale slumped in a heap, clutching her knees, and leaned against the\u003cbr\u003ecold rock wall. Too tired to think, too tired to fight despair, she allowed\u003cbr\u003ethe tears to come.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e“Stupid o’rant. Stupid o’rant. We smelled you.”\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eThe chant grew louder as more tormenters joined the first three\u003cbr\u003egrawligs kneeling by the hole. A hairy arm reached down and groped along\u003cbr\u003ethe sides of the rock. More dirt, leaves, and twigs fell on Kale’s head.\u003cbr\u003eThe young o’rant girl curled tighter, shrinking from the voices above.\u003cbr\u003eHer hand searched for her treasure, pulling it out by the leather cord. She\u003cbr\u003egrasped the smooth cloth of the drawstring pouch. At first the egg inside\u003cbr\u003elay cold and unresponsive. Gradually, it grew warm. Kale concentrated on\u003cbr\u003ethe soft thrum in her hand, blocking out the “stupid o’rant” chant of the\u003cbr\u003egrawligs.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003ePain and fatigue, fear and panic drained away. She shifted around to\u003cbr\u003efind a fairly comfortable position on the stony floor. With the pouch\u003cbr\u003egripped in her hand and pressed against her cheek, she fell asleep.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eWhen she opened her eyes once more, streams of light shone into the\u003cbr\u003ecave at three spots. The first was directly above her. A head covered with\u003cbr\u003ematted brown hair lay partially inside the hole. Kale could see a large hairless\u003cbr\u003eear and part of the loose lips of the beast. Rough snores rumbled\u003cbr\u003eabove.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eA beam no more than a hand’s width descended from a second hole\u003cbr\u003ein the ceiling. The third opening on the opposite side of the dismal cave\u003cbr\u003eshowed more promise. Not only was the hole big enough for Kale to\u003cbr\u003ewiggle through, but also large boulders like uneven stairsteps made climbing\u003cbr\u003epossible.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eShe stood and stumbled across the uneven cave floor. She looked up\u003cbr\u003eand studied the hole she hoped to use for her escape. Since the ceiling of\u003cbr\u003ethe cave sloped upward, it would be a long climb compared to the slide\u003cbr\u003elast night.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e“I’m thankful that’s not the hole I fell through,” she whispered.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eTucking her treasure inside the neck of her blouse, she started climbing.\u003cbr\u003eShe placed each foot carefully and tested each ledge before shifting her\u003cbr\u003ewhole weight. She didn’t want to cause a landslide for two reasons: \u003ci\u003eI don’t\u003cbr\u003ewant to wake those grawligs, and I don’t want to be buried under a ton of\u003cbr\u003eboulders. I want out of here alive. I want to get to Vendela in one piece.\u003cbr\u003e\u003c\/i\u003e\u003cbr\u003eWarm air touched her hand as she placed it on the next rock. Contrasted\u003cbr\u003ewith the chill air surrounding her, it felt like a breath from the\u003cbr\u003emouth of a huge animal. She pulled her hand back and listened. Faintly\u003cbr\u003eshe heard the coarse snores of grawligs and the morning chatter of birds in\u003cbr\u003ethe trees outside, an odd combination. Within the cave, only the drip of\u003cbr\u003ewater from a far corner reached her ears.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eCautiously, she eased up to peer over the rock. A narrow passage\u003cbr\u003estretched back into the darkness. Moist air flowed steadily from the opening.\u003cbr\u003e\u003ci\u003e\u003cbr\u003eI wonder what’s back there.\u003cbr\u003e\u003c\/i\u003e\u003cbr\u003eAgain she tilted her head and listened intently. No sound came\u003cbr\u003ethrough the tunnel opening, no sound at all. Curiosity niggled at her\u003cbr\u003ethoughts.\u003cbr\u003e\u003ci\u003e\u003cbr\u003eWhat’s in that tunnel? How far back does it go? Why warm air?\u003cbr\u003e\u003c\/i\u003e\u003cbr\u003eShe found herself crouched next to the hole and leaning in. She’d have\u003cbr\u003eto crawl on hands and knees. If she had a light of some sort, she could go\u003cbr\u003ein. She put a hand on the floor of the tunnel and placed her head within\u003cbr\u003ethe opening.\u003cbr\u003e\u003ci\u003e\u003cbr\u003eWhat am I doing? I don’t want to go in there. I want to get away from\u003cbr\u003ethe grawligs.\u003cbr\u003e\u003c\/i\u003e\u003cbr\u003eShe drew back as if she’d nearly stepped off a high cliff. Her breathing\u003cbr\u003ecame in quick, panicked puffs. Clenching her fists, fighting the urge to\u003cbr\u003eplunge into the tunnel, she remembered Mistress Meiger’s stern face.\u003cbr\u003e\u003ci\u003e\u003cbr\u003eFocus on what’s ahead.\u003cbr\u003e\u003c\/i\u003e\u003cbr\u003eKale stretched a hand up and grabbed a rock ledge. In a minute she’d\u003cbr\u003ebe out of the cave.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eStill she wanted to turn back and explore the tunnel. The powerful\u003cbr\u003eurge to go through that underground passage scared her. It made no sense.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eShe climbed the last few feet to the top of the cave with firm determination.\u003cbr\u003eKale cautiously poked her head and then her shoulders above\u003cbr\u003ethe ground. Squinting in the bright morning sun, she considered the\u003cbr\u003ebushes around the rocks where she had fallen into the cave. Her present\u003cbr\u003eoutlook was higher and a good twenty feet west of the sprawled grawligs.\u003cbr\u003eNot all of them had fallen asleep around the hole. That meant some were\u003cbr\u003eout of sight.\u003cbr\u003e\u003ci\u003e\u003cbr\u003eAwake or asleep? And how many?\u003cbr\u003e\u003c\/i\u003e \u003cbr\u003eAs near as she could count, eleven uncouth ogres lay in piles in and\u003cbr\u003earound the bushes. Last night dozens of grawligs had gathered in the\u003cbr\u003ecamp.\u003cbr\u003e\u003ci\u003e\u003cbr\u003eWhere are the others?\u003cbr\u003e\u003c\/i\u003e\u003cbr\u003eShe surveyed the surrounding area, first the low ground ahead. Then\u003cbr\u003eshe turned and peered above her. The best route of escape lay over the\u003cbr\u003erocks going west.\u003cbr\u003e\u003ci\u003e\u003cbr\u003eAt least that looks like the best way.\u003cbr\u003e\u003c\/i\u003e\u003cbr\u003eShe looked again at the beasts below. The grawligs might sleep for\u003cbr\u003esome time. They had feasted late and probably guzzled brillum, a brewed\u003cbr\u003eale that none of the seven high races would consume.\u003cbr\u003e\u003ci\u003e\u003cbr\u003eFive, maybe ten minutes, and I’ll be in and out of that tunnel.\u003cbr\u003e\u003c\/i\u003e\u003cbr\u003eShe slipped back into the cave and into the stone burrow before she\u003cbr\u003ecould think twice about what she planned to do.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eThick, moist air settled on her skin as she groped her way in the dark.\u003cbr\u003eA sweet fragrance grew heavier as she moved farther and farther away from\u003cbr\u003ethe cave. The dark, the smell, the damp, all screamed danger in her mind.\u003cbr\u003eHer arms and legs kept moving. She argued with herself, trying to force\u003cbr\u003eher body to back up and leave both the tunnel and the cave. None of her\u003cbr\u003ewords, muttered softly in the cloying atmosphere, reached her ears.\u003cbr\u003e\u003ci\u003e\u003cbr\u003eEnchantment! \u003c\/i\u003eshe realized with a groan. She could not resist whatever\u003cbr\u003epulled her into depths of darkness.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eTrembling, she hoped fear would cause her to collapse.\u003cbr\u003e\u003ci\u003e\u003cbr\u003eThen I’d stop. Then I couldn’t go one bit farther.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eBut I probably couldn’t scoot backward either.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eI’d be stuck. Stuck until I die.\u003c\/i\u003eA Novel A Fantastic Journey of Discovery for All Ages","brand":"WaterBrook","offers":[{"title":"Default Title","offer_id":46303722176741,"sku":"NP9781578568239","price":15.99,"currency_code":"USD","in_stock":false}],"thumbnail_url":"\/\/cdn.shopify.com\/s\/files\/1\/1842\/7735\/files\/9781578568239.jpg?v=1767725657","url":"https:\/\/k12savings.com\/products\/dragonspell-isbn-9781578568239","provider":"K12savings","version":"1.0","type":"link"}