Dragons of the Valley by Donita K. Paul Page A

pressed on. “The morale of the people is also a cause for alarm. I agree that there is more at work here than the circumstances we can identify. And I am curious why, as Verrin Schope has suggested, the three statues are not together.”
    “I suggest,” said Beccaroon, “that Verrin Schope, Paladin, and I venture out of Ragar and get a closer look at the unrest in the neighboring towns.”
    Paladin looked up and nodded, but Verrin Schope remained silent.
    The king frowned at the quiet sculptor. “Verrin Schope?”
    He looked up. “I apologize, King Yellat, but I must add to this gloomy scenario.” He closed his eyes and remained quiet.
    “Well?” roared the king. “What else darkens our doorstep?”
    With a weary sigh, Verrin Schope opened his eyes and shook his head. “Our plan to take the statues out of the city succeeded. But the scheme to put them back together in a secure place has not.
Morning Glory, Day’s Deed
, and
Evening Yearns
are still separated.”
    King Yellat stared at his son-in-law. In a subdued tone, he said, “So you say, but I don’t understand why that is relevant to the dealings with Baardack. This is a local problem.”
    “Local? Yes, local. I am using all my energy to keep myself from disassembling. But a disheartened populace does not defend itself well. And a disgruntled populace is easily persuaded to be disloyal. I believe this local problem will affect the outcome of any hostilities with Baardack.”
    Beccaroon assessed his friend anew, this time without the shroud of condemnation he had allowed to impair his judgment. Verrin Schope did look pale. Would he scatter as he had before?
    The artist continued. “I believe our original assessment that Odidoddex seeks to take over Chiril is accurate. However, with the three stones separated, we have the added danger of unrest among the people. It would seem that the power of the stones, which caused physical anomalies a few weeks ago, is now causing an illness of the spirit.”
    The feathers around Sir Beccaroon’s neck fluffed out as indignation ruffled his usual calm. “Awk! It seems to me that this god, Wulder, who you think so highly of, has created a hideous situation. If this
being
is so wise, why did He design something that could be so easily broken? Why are we paying the price for your chipping away at one of His cornerstones? As a god, He is no better than the Boscamon fairy tales.”
    Verrin Schope sagged in his chair and shook his head, his expression one of great sadness. “We are responsible for the corruption. Wulder is incapable of doing wrong.”
    Sir Beccaroon hopped off his perch. “How very convenient for Him.”
    “You don’t understand,” said Verrin Schope. “It is because I am too inadequate to explain His Infinite Being. You will have to meet Him, Bec. It is the only way to truly comprehend.”
    “Whether He exists or not, we have problems to solve.” Beccaroon walked back to the map. “I’m willing to meet your god, even entertain Him, as long as He doesn’t interfere with the serious business we have at hand.”
    He turned back to glare at Verrin Schope, but his chair was empty.

10
Verrin Schope Disappears
    “Well,” said the king, “I am disappointed once again. Verrin Schope is as unreliable as any other artist I’ve ever met.” He shook his head. “Gone, without a word.”
    Beccaroon dropped his irritation with his old friend and sprang to his defense. “This situation is caused by the statues being out of alignment. He didn’t run away from this meeting. That’s absurd. The Verrin Schope I know is as conscientious as he is brilliant.”
    The king’s face twisted in disdain. Beccaroon realized he’d just implied that King Yellat’s opinion was absurd. Not exactly a diplomatic move. He flapped his wings once, tamped down his frustration, took a deep breath, and attempted to reason with King Yellat and his council.
    “When the news came in the middle of the night that foreign forces