Several sweaty hours later, Righty emerged feeling refreshed. It was good seeing how much Tats was improving in all areas of combat, since he never knew when he might need to count on him in a fight. But above all, Righty felt as if a hundred pounds had slid off of his shoulders now that he no longer had to keep Harold a secret from Tats. This was going to save him several hours each day and allow him to carry far more merchandise. It would probably only be a short time before he introduced his most-trusted ranchers to his aerial companion.
He couldn’t see any reason, however, to part with the secret of the konulans. Keeping that ace up his sleeve still seemed like a very good idea.
He mounted Harold and began to take off. No sooner were the houses below beginning to take on miniature form when something whizzed by his ear. He thought for a moment it might have been a fly, but it quickly turned back towards him shouting in its small voice, “Mr. Simmers! Mr. Simmers! It’s Janie! She’s giving birth early!”
“TO RINGSETTER . . . NOW!!” Righty shouted, not caring a lick if anyone’s peaceful slumber was interrupted by the booming voice overhead.
Harold had already started to accelerate, however, by the time “NOW!!” was just making it out of Righty’s mouth, and the ensuing speed was so overwhelming Righty immediately found himself hunkering down and hugging Harold’s back like a sailor gripping a rope on deck in the midst of a hurricane to avoid being thrown off into the awesome waves all around him. It was only then that Righty realized how little of Harold’s power he had ever felt.