The first to tackle would be the most immediate. What was he going to do with Ellicinderpart for the whole afternoon? He didn’t regard being her bodyguard as a productive way to spend his time. But he couldn’t let her roam around on her own.
“I usually go to the library in the afternoon. The horde runs wild, and they get tired and cranky. I prefer to be out of their way, and since Old One won’t let them in, it’s a good time to do research on the city.”
She took out a handkerchief and wiped breadcrumbs from her lips. “I’d like to see the library, but I don’t know if I want to see the librarian.”
He took the two bottles and paper wrapping and jumped lightly to the sidewalk. “I don’t know that Old One is legitimately a librarian. But he does live there.”
“Did you search for him?”
She swung her legs back and forth while he deposited the trash in the butcher’s box. Stained blue and riddled with holes, her socks ought to be discarded.
“What did you do with your shoes?” he asked.
“Oh, my feet were sore from all the walking and the shoes were wet, so I took them off.”
“It doesn’t hurt your feet to run like we’ve been doing all morning?”
She blushed.
Bealomondore cringed inwardly at his social blunder. How could he, the suave portrait painter for the rich, be so insensitive? It must be the result of being a warrior in Chiril’s defense against Baardack. “I didn’t mean to offend you.”
“No, it’s all right.” She lifted her chin. “I take the goats out to the mountain pastures every day, and when the weather is fair, I go without my shoes.”
He nodded and moved to stand in front of her. He held his arms up and smiled. “Jump, and I’ll catch you.”
She slid off the bench, and he caught her waist easily, then lowered her to the ground.
He pulled his hands back, and turned to survey the fountain and the small park around it. “Well, where’s Tak? We have a bit of a walk.”
Ellie’s eyes fell on the words blazoned in gold across the front of the huge white building: Rumbard City Library.
Bealomondore led her around to the back of the building to a vent, and she watched as he unscrewed one of the two bolts that held the cover. The two other holes for screws were empty. Once he removed one, he slid the slatted metal sheet down. The grate made a steep and slippery stairway to climb. After Bealomondore helped her navigate the slats, he went back down to help Tak enter.
Ellie assisted the tumanhofer in lifting the cover into place and then holding it while he reinserted the screw. The tumanhofer wedged the loose bolt in between the wall and the cover in such a way as to keep it from swinging down and revealing the secret entrance.
Darkness shrouded the immediate area, but Ellie could see light in the distance. Tak trotted between stacks of wooden boxes. Ellie hurried to catch up.
Sunshine poured through a circular skylight in a round room surrounded by bookcases. Around the edges of the rotunda, plants in huge pots overflowed with thick, tangled vegetation that climbed the walls on its way to the ceiling. Some of the foliage qualified as trees in Ellie’s opinion.
In the center of a white marble floor, sofas and comfortable chairs sat on a lush patterned rug. Several small tables nestled up to the seats. Books were piled high on one table, with more books stacked by the chair next to it.
Drawn to the place where someone obviously spent a lot of time reading, Ellie tiptoed as if she might disturb the unseen patrons of the library with her footsteps. She started at Bealomondore’s voice directly behind her.
“Old One has chosen a varied selection of reading material.”
She put her hand to her chest and spun to face him. “Don’t do that again,” she whispered.
“Sorry, I didn’t mean to startle you.” Bealomondore pulled a contrite face.
Ellie didn’t trust him when he looked so abashed and preferred his cavalier demeanor much more. She could label him vain and arrogant and not have to fight the urge to depend upon him. She feared that he would gain her confidence only to trick her somehow.
In Glenbrooken, strangers, sophisticated strangers, were watched until proven proper, moral, and reliable. The villagers, her family, all the neighbors, everyone had manners, but no one was as polished as this well-to-do tumanhofer. She knew family and friends would readily lend a hand, but could Bealomondore be trusted? In Rumbard City, she was without the counsel of older, wiser voices. She would have to discern on her own from the evidence before her.
Bealomondore scaled a stack of books and climbed into the chair. “It’s here. Come on up.”
Curious, she followed his route to the top and peered over the arm of the chair to where Bealomondore struggled with a huge book. He dragged it to the back of the chair and propped it up against the cushion.
As he opened it, he glanced up at Ellie. “I think this is Old One’s journal.”
“His private journal?”
Bealomondore had the grace to look a bit embarrassed. “Well, yes. But he has to know someone is reading it because I never put it back in the position I found it. Some days it isn’t here. And sometimes I think he is writing to me because he mentions things that happened years ago like he wants me to know the history.”
“Then why doesn’t he just sit down here and wait for you, then tell you to your face?”
Bealomondore shrugged. “Perhaps if we ever find him, we can ask.” He looked at the open pages and back to Ellie. “Come down and read with me. See what you think.”
She slid down the upholstered arm and landed on the soft seat cushion. Her raggedy socks looked extra shabby next to the rich fabric of the chair. She sat cross-legged with her feet tucked under her skirt.
“Are we going to start from the beginning?” she asked.
“No, I’m looking for the last entry I read.” Bealomondore turned pages with effort. The small task involved walking from one side of the book, grasping the paper’s edge, and dragging it back. “Ah! Here we are.”
He stood back a few steps and looked up, then read the tidy script. “The silence weighs heavily on my soul. When I can stand it no longer, I go to a window on the second floor and open it. Sometimes I can hear the birds. It is best at night, when insects serenade the cool breezes. It is worst when the remnant is close enough for me to hear their coarse screams, horrid laughter, taunts, and threats. Of course, they don’t bother me. None of their jeers are directed toward me. But they heap scorn upon each other. I’ve not seen an act of kindness in a century or more. But then, I don’t watch them as I used to. Observing their conduct saddens me beyond what I can bear. To think that the mighty urohms are represented by selfish, grubby little fiends.
“I wonder when I die how long they will go on in their perpetual childhood.”
Ellie let out a long, slow breath. “He doesn’t sound very happy, does he?”
Bealomondore sat down with his back against the arm of the chair. “No, he doesn’t.”
He clasped his hands and rested them on his knees. He appeared to be lost in thought, and Ellie did not disturb him. As he puzzled over whatever was on his mind, she read the second page in the book. “I think perhaps Wulder has sent someone to take my place as guardian of the library. A tumanhofer—”
“Bealomondore, look.” She pointed to the lettering. “He does know you’re here. He’s mentioned you.”
The tumanhofer started and followed her pointing finger. He jumped up and read aloud. “A tumanhofer visits the library. For almost two months now. At first I thought he was my overactive imagination, a vision of a dream of mine come true, or perhaps a thief who stumbled upon our bottled city. I can’t bring myself to talk to him. It’s been so long since I’ve had a conversation with anyone but myself. But since he came, I find I don’t talk to myself as much. I fear he will overhear me and jump out of some shadow to confront me. That would be most uncomfortable, and I am old. Surely he wouldn’t frighten an old man.”
The entry in the journal ended.
Ellie giggled. “I don’t think he wants you jumping out at him and scaring him to death. He obviously wanted you to be forewarned. Scare him, and he won’t answer any questions.”
Bealomondore took hold of the page and hauled it to the other side. He glanced up and smiled. “Good guess. Listen to this. ‘I fear I would be scared to death. I am no longer striving to live longer, but my idea of a pleasant passing would be to sleep and not wake up.’ ”
“That’s sad,” said Ellie.
“He often writes about years of being alone. I’ve only been here two months, and I have had too much of my own company.”
“So you are glad Tak and I showed up?”
He studied her for a moment before smiling. “You aren’t too bad.”
“You sound like one of my brothers.”
He winked at her. Her brothers never winked at her. Something passed through his expression that did not look like a brother at all. She looked away and wondered if the warmth in her cheeks meant she was blushing. Did the amount of heat determine the height of the red coloring? She looked back at him, but he didn’t seem to be aware of her discomfort. Perhaps he was as obtuse as her brothers.
He studied a fingernail on his hand. Her brothers would have had half a yard of dirt under their toenails and the other half under their fingernails.
Bealomondore put his clean hands on his thighs. “I have sisters and one brother. I enjoyed giving my sisters a hard time. My older brother did not take well to teasing.”
She laughed, then sobered. “I have lots of younger brothers and sisters, and I miss them. Bealomondore, we must find a way to get out of Rumbard City.”
He nodded, then turned, stretching out a hand to help her rise as well. “There are older journals on the floor. Shall we go down and see what we can find?”
Tak had been busy while they were occupied high on the chair. He munched on long, spindly leaves from one of the ornate plants. Holes in the greenery indicated he had snacked from almost all the pots. He stamped his feet when he saw Ellie.
“There’s a park behind the library,” said Bealomondore. “I’ll take him out there.”
“I want to go too.” She went to Tak and rubbed his ears. “It’s not dangerous, is it?”
“The park isn’t, and the mob rarely comes close to the library.” Bealomondore walked between two bookshelves. “This way.”
As Ellie followed with Tak, she craned her neck to survey the towering bookcases. Elaborate leather bindings covered most of the books. The rich colors with embossed lettering outnumbered the plainer jackets. The size varied from books she could almost handle to ones that might kill her if they fell from the shelves and landed on her. Suddenly she laughed.
Bealomondore stopped and turned around, tilting his head in a quizzical gesture.
Ellie smiled at him. “I just remembered what you said earlier—that once inside the library, I would realize the enormity of the problem.” She glanced around at the books. “Now I understand.”
Bealomondore laughed and gestured for her to follow. At that moment, she thought the tumanhofer made a good escort. Tak tugged, and she skipped a step as they maneuvered between the library stacks.
A black wrought-iron gate gave them entrance to the block-sized yard. Statues lurked among overgrown shrubbery. Ellie heard but couldn’t see a fountain among the bushes gone wild.
She let Tak go inside the fence and explored on her own. Bealomondore stayed close, and she appreciated his presence. Her little brothers would have chosen a place such as this to jump out and scare the wits out of her. She understood Old One’s aversion to being surprised.
When she came upon several sculptures, she shook her head in wonder. “There are so many statues.”
“From what I’ve seen,” said Bealomondore, “Rumbard City was a cultural center. There’s a museum, an opera house, and a university. All empty. The architecture of the city, and the numerous parks with fountains and statuary, indicates an interest in higher forms of civilization. The restaurants represent different ethnicities and speak of refinement and sophistication. And even the quality and variety of the books in the library signify a concern for philosophy and opportunities for broad education. This was by no means a backward society when it met its end.”
“What could have caused it?” Ellie climbed on a bench to sit down and studied her tumanhofer companion. “There’s no sign of death or destruction. It’s as if a portion of the populace just left, taking nothing with them and leaving behind one man and a crew of untamed children.”
“No,” said Bealomondore. “I’ve read enough to know that the city was separated from the outside world. The adults grew older and died. The children matured to the age of six and then remained that age.”
“That still leaves the questions why and how.”
“Correct. And I believe when we find those answers, the key to our escape will be close at hand.”
“I certainly hope so.”
They spent the afternoon spreading the books out on the carpet in the library and opening them one by one. Many contained lists and summaries of books Old One had read. Some of the books had Old One’s concise opinions of their literary worth. Both Bealomondore and Ellie were confused by entries such as, Imanderron is a worthy friend, one who begs my attention and calls me back for more musing over the worth of life and the injustice of time.
Imanderron turned out to be one of the books by the chair and clued them in to Old One’s habit of sometimes referring to favorite volumes as friends.
Ellie and Bealomondore each took a journal to peruse, hoping to cover more territory and find something that would help. Occasionally one would call to the other to share an interesting entry, but most of Old One’s accounts detailed tedious days with nothing relevant to their predicament. They discovered that the older journals had much more lively reports.
“He probably hadn’t yet succumbed to the melancholy of being alone,” said Ellie.
Bealomondore stood and stretched. “It’s time to collect our dinner.”
Ellie looked up to the domed skylight. “Oh my! It’s gotten dark.” She frowned and looked around. “Where is our light coming from?” The tops of the pillars glowed.
“Lightrocks. The library is almost too well lit at night. I have to find a dark corner to sleep in.”
“You sleep here?”
“Yes, it is the only place I know the grimy masses will not invade. If I oversleep in the morning, I won’t be awakened by grubby paws mauling my person.”
She looked again at the dark sky. “But we have to go out to fetch our meal?”
“Not to worry,” said Bealomondore in good humor. “The brats must be afraid of the dark. I’ve never seen one after the sun goes down.”
He came and offered her his arm. “Would you care to go for a stroll, Miss Ellicinderpart Clarenbessipawl?”
She smiled and nodded as she took his arm. She was hungry, and the prospect of dinner with Bealomondore delighted her. Bealomondore would also protect her from naughty children should this be the one time they ignored curfew. Tonight she could relax and enjoy the moment. Tomorrow she would put more thought into how to escape.
When they left the library, they found the pavement wet and raindrops clinging to leaves and flowers.
“The evening shower,” said Bealomondore. “Most nights—not all—a gentle rain washes the dust from the air and waters the plants.”
Tak attacked a bush, munching the vegetation, clean and sparkling with raindrops. Ellie looked up, watching wisps of clouds trail across the sky. The moon backlit the ethereal tresses, causing them to glow. She tilted her head and studied the moon.
“It’s bent,” she said.
Bealomondore stood beside her and followed her gaze.
“Yes, I’ve noticed that from time to time. As the evening progresses and the moon’s position changes, it will lose that odd shape.”
“What causes it?”
“The bottle effect.”
Ellie shifted her eyes to examine the tumanhofer’s face.
“I found it in a book in the library beside Old One’s chair. I think he has researched the phenomenon, and it is fortunate for me that he left the books out. Can you imagine climbing the bookshelves, locating a book, then trying to get it down?”
“The bottle effect?”
“Remember I said that Rumbard City is under some kind of wizardry?”
“Yes.”
“It would seem that whoever cast the spell put the city in a bottle. We’re looking at the moon through the glass, and when the moon is positioned so that it is beyond a corner, it looks bent.”
Ellie admitted to herself that at one time she had thought the glinting object she’d seen in the distance looked like a bottle, but the whole thing in reality was absurd.
She didn’t try to keep the sarcasm from her voice. “The rain comes through the neck of the bottle and spreads out to make a shower?” She arched her eyebrows. “Are the clouds inside or outside the bottle?”
He chose to answer her question without rancor. “The climate within the bottle is delivered in the same manner as the food—the right kind, in the right amount, at the right time.”
“But we don’t know who delivers the food and weather?”
He shook his head slowly. “No, we don’t. But we shall continue to explore the possibilities.”
The two tumanhofers and one goat strolled toward their destination. Ellie strained her ears, but heard nothing more than night sounds, mostly insects, with the occasional hoot of a nightflyer.
During the day, even in the safety of the library, she’d felt uneasy, as if at any moment the children might break in and ransack the solemn stillness and order of the building. Her other fear stemmed from the possibility of Old One suddenly stepping out from between the stacks. While he’d hinted that they might scare him to death, she was more concerned that he would frighten a year or two off her own life.