Dragons of the Watch

  “No.” Her spirits fell. “She spoke, and I didn’t hear it? Have I lost the ability already?”

  “Don’t be dismayed. It’ll take practice to get good at mindspeaking.”

  Ellie went to Old One’s stack of books and sat on the floor beside them. The disappointment threatened to sweep her joy clean away. But that possibility could be thwarted. She chose to refuse the frustration and concentrate on improving her skill. She gave herself a lecture. This setback was no more taxing than getting to the goat barn and finding that she had to go back to the hills to find a stray member of the herd.

  Tak came to her side and placed his head in her lap. She absent-mindedly rubbed behind his ears.

  After a moment, she lifted her chin and asked, “What did she say?”

  “She said, ‘We will practice, practice, practice until your mind’s ear is sharp. And then we’ll sing to the untamed masses.’ ”

  Ellie smiled at the prospect of having a partner in reaching the children. She knew all too well that Bealomondore did not relish the task. She wanted to know more about Airon. Had she once lived outside this captive city?

  “Has Airon ever seen an emerlindian with their pointed outside ears?”

  She’d directed the question to the tumanhofer, but the dragon answered with a series of clicks and chittering.

  Bealomondore nodded to Airon and turned to translate. “She says she has seen emerlindians, but it is the heart that opens the mind, not the shape of the ear.”

  Ellie smiled at her two friends. “You know, I was determined to go to the royal wedding reception and the coronation. But if I had to be stuck someplace”—she tilted her head toward Bealomondore—“I’m glad it is here with you.” She smiled more broadly at Airon, who made noises she suspected were happy words. “And you.”

  “So you had your heart set on Ragar,” said Bealomondore, “and quite frankly, I had no idea of where I would be going after Ragar. I had the invitation to the Amber Palace to paint the portrait. My parents, who used to be ashamed of me, wanted me to come to Greeston and enter their circle of friends. That would have netted a bounty of commissions for more portraits.” He sat on a stack of books. “What’s left of the troops I fought beside in the war want to spiffy up their uniforms and gear to march in the coronation parade. I should join them. I didn’t finish my study of the kimen village—another place I’d like to go. And the Valley of the Dragons always holds an appeal. The stunning landscapes make it easy to get lost in capturing the beauty on canvas. Too many choices and none of them having that final, persuasive allure.”

  He looked sad, and Ellie scooted to sit on a cushion close by. She leaned toward him and peered up at his downcast expression. “Couldn’t you do all of them, one at a time?”

  “I could.” He averted his gaze, staring up at the skylight until she thought he had forgotten her. A big sigh escaped him as he refocused on her. “I could, but I am ready to pick one thing, one place to get to know extremely well. Perhaps even one lady with whom to share the experience of settling down.”

  “Surely among all the people you know there is someone who interests you.”

  He tried to muster a grin. “There was one who caught my eye, but she was my good friend, and she never saw me as someone who could be more than that.”

  “Maybe that’s where you should go. To renew the friendship? Encourage a romance?”

  Now his full smile broke out, and the room felt lighter, easier to breathe in. Ellie leaned back and watched him.

  His eyes twinkled, and he chuckled a bit. “No, I’ve moved on, and she’s moved on. She found someone who gives her that urge to build a nest and raise little ones.”

  He straightened his shoulders and grinned. “Do you know what I would like to do?”

  She shook her head.

  “I should like to sketch you and Airon as you sing, as you practice.” He bent over to pick up a large pad of paper and a box that rattled. “I have the things I need. You two set up wherever you like. Try to stay in the light.”

  Airon did an airborne somersault and flew to a chair across the room that soaked up the morning sun from the skylight.

  Ellie followed and climbed into the oversize seat. She sat sideways with her back against one arm, while Airon sat on the other arm. Shy at first, she sang a slow song about cherries and chickens and cabbage. The artist took off his jacket and stood as he sketched. One arm held the pad of paper, and he made bold strokes with the pencil in the other hand. He’d then sit and, with great concentration, make smaller marks. He drew several pictures from different angles.

  Ellie longed to see them, but singing with Airon captured her attention. The songs varied from ballads to nursery rhymes to frolicking party melodies. They came to a short children’s song.

  The sun comes up each morning.

  The sun goes down each night.

  And if the sun doesn’t shine today,

  His job, I’ll give away.

  They repeated it several times, and Bealomondore joined in. Then they sang it as a two-part round until they achieved the desired effect. Next, Airon suggested they try it in a three-part round, and Ellie heard the mindspoken words. When they tried the harder version, Bealomondore and Ellie got their words all tangled up. Airon, of course, only sang in her style of syllables and didn’t have a problem. They ended up laughing, all three of them. They tried to start the song again but couldn’t make it past the third line before all three voices were on a different tune.

  Ellie fell over onto the seat cushion. She wiped tears of laughter from her eyes. Bealomondore was in a similar state, leaning against a table and holding his side.

  “Hear now! What’s all this commotion?” A loud voice boomed from one of the balconies above that ran around the rotunda’s open space.

  Ellie sucked in her breath and stopped laughing immediately. She squinted as she looked up, realizing by the angle of the sunbeams pouring in that it was noon.

  “Who’s there?” asked Bealomondore. “We’re sorry to disturb you, sir.”

  There was no answer. Ellie detected a slight movement. She jumped from the chair and scurried to stand next to Bealomondore.

  “Did you see him?” she whispered.

  “No, did you?”

  “I saw something move. There. Beside that painting of horses.”

  “Ah.” Bealomondore made a bow in the direction of the shadowed figure. “May I issue an introduction? This is Ellicinderpart Clarenbessipawl. I am Graddapotmorphit Bealomondore.”

  He bowed. She curtsied.

  No response.

  “Do we have the pleasure of addressing Old One?”

  “Go about your business,” came the loud, gravelly answer, “and I’ll go about mine.”

  The shadow moved away.

  “Wait,” called Ellie. “Please don’t go. We’d like to know you. Can’t you come down and talk to us? We could have tea.”

  “Tea’s no good without daggarts, and there haven’t been daggarts for years.”

  He shuffled off.

  “Should we go after him?” asked Ellie.

  “Have you seen the grand staircase?” Bealomondore shook his head. “He’ll have to come to us.”

  As Ellie and Bealomondore walked to the butcher’s shop, Airon flew above them, circling back whenever she got too far ahead. Tak moseyed along, munching on plants from the flower boxes and poking his nose in piles of trash. They occasionally had to stop and wait for him to catch up.

  “How long do you suppose Rumbard City has been under the wizard’s spell?” asked Ellie.

  “Four hundred years.”

  “Exactly?”

  “No, approximately. Rumbard City’s been around for four hundred years. Old One’s journal recordings did not give a year until later on, so I estimated by how many earlier journals I found.”

  “You really have learned a lot in the two months you’ve been here.”

  “Necessity. Desperation. Boredom. Three instigators of industry.
”

  Ellie mulled that over in her mind. She could see how that was true. But the poor children and lonely Old One crowded out other thoughts of Bealomondore.

  “Do you know what I want to do?” she asked.

  “Eat noonmeal?”

  “Yes, that. I’m starving. But after noonmeal I’d like to look into making daggarts. These children don’t ever have daggarts, do they?”

  “Not that I’ve seen.” He smacked his lips. “Daggarts. Our cook used to bake daggarts in the early afternoon, and we’d have them with milk. Now that was a treat.” He shook his head. “An excellent idea, but where are we going to get the ingredients and a working oven?”

  “We could look in the bakery.”

  Bealomondore smiled at her, the twinkle in his eye gleaming. “That sounds like a reasonable place to start.”

  They emptied the box on the butcher’s stoop and hurried through their meal. After disposing of the leftovers, they went to the other side of the fountain to the bakery. Ellie had full confidence that Bealomondore would be able to gain entry to the closed shop. However, his skills were not needed. The back door lay on the ground, and the state of the interior testified to ransacking done by the roving horde of six-year-olds.

  Tak meandered around the room, sniffing and sneezing at carelessly tossed flour. Ellie crossed her arms over her stomach, looking down at the white piles of flour on the floor and childish footprints marking trails in every direction. “Well, the supplies used to be here.”

  “Maybe we can find something on a top shelf.” Bealomondore began to climb up to a counter. “What kind of daggarts did you want to make?”

  “I know recipes for oatmeal, chocobit, and butter daggarts.”

  Bealomondore took hold of a book with two hands and lowered it over the side of the counter. “A recipe book. Watch out. I’m going to let it fall.”

  The book landed flat and poofed the old flour into the air. Ellie waved a hand in front of her face and backed away. When the air cleared, she returned to the book and opened the cover. “There’s a section on desserts.”

  “Good,” came Bealomondore’s answer from high above.

  Airon chittered wildly, and Ellie interpreted her distress. She looked up and gasped. Bealomondore climbed a long, thick string of garlic that looked brittle and ready to break.

  “Be careful!” she shouted.

  He reached a cabinet, wedged his fingers under the door, and opened it. Once inside, he gave a hoot he must’ve picked up from living with the kimens. “We hit the mother lode! I see baking powder in a tin, an unopened bag of salt, a box that has spices in it, and some colored sprinkles you put on top of birthday cakes. You know, the kind that goes on the icing.”

  She put her hand over her eyes, shielding her sight from the glare coming in the big front window. “Any sugar? Flour? Lard?”

  “Nary a speck. Are eggs in your recipe?”

  “In the oatmeal and chocobit.”

  Bealomondore came to stand on the edge and leaned out to speak to her. “We’ll have to go to the outskirts and see if there are any wild chickens. We might find a house with an oven and supplies.”

  “It took a long, long time to walk into the city.”

  Bealomondore sat on the edge of the cabinet. “I’ll ask Det to scout out a house so we can go straight to it instead of searching.”

  Tak stood at the door, looking out of the building and into the alley. He stamped his feet and glanced over his shoulder at Airon. The dragon let out a shrill whistle. Bealomondore grabbed the rope of garlic and hurried down.

  “They’re coming!” said Ellie. “They’re coming down the alley. We’ll have to go out the front.”

  Bealomondore hopped down and ran to the big window. He ducked and peeked through the displays. “I don’t see anyone out here.”

  He crouched as he approached the door. Ellie also stooped as she joined him. Tak and Airon stayed at the back and kept their eyes on the alley. Bealomondore manipulated the large deadbolt.

  As the door swung open, Ellie whispered loudly, “Come on!”

  They raced past the fountain and down the street that would lead to the library. Airon flew in front. Tak brought up the rear. Ellie kept pace with Bealomondore.

  The chase reminded Ellie of the first morning she had spent in Rumbard City. Every time she thought they had lost the boys and girls, another group popped up and sent their little party of visitors fleeing again. Someone ought to take these children in hand and teach them how to be civilized.

  While she and Bealomondore panted from the exertion of escaping, the hunters giggled, shouted, laughed, and called out the despicable things they planned to do when they caught the two wee ones, the bird, and the dog. Ellie didn’t believe a word of their cannibalistic plans. They didn’t know how to cook, for one thing. For another, she suspected they had never actually caught anything and had no idea what to do if they should, by chance, take prisoners. The children seemed woefully ignorant.

  One of the reasons the countryfolk didn’t encourage reading was the expanded imagination that resulted from books. She dreamed of going to a big city and seeing the royal wedding celebration and dancing in the streets at the coronation. Books describing such things had awakened a longing in her heart. Many of the older folk saw this as a danger, not a blessing.

  But Gramps said, “Education means you can think bigger. Thinking bigger is a good thing, more fun than having thoughts that are pinched and scrawny.”

  Ellie read to her younger siblings, and they developed wild schemes, much wilder and more detailed than those proposed by these children. Her brothers made up grand stories and acted them out. Her sisters staged operas, even though they had never seen one. And they imagined wearing ball gowns, even though they’d only seen black and white sketches. This bunch of six-year-olds didn’t go much further with their devious plots than “catch ’em,” “tie ’em up,” and “eat ’em.”

  Bealomondore found a break in a building wall, and they climbed over a pile of bricks and into a cool, dark room with no windows. After Tak climbed in and Airon swooped through the hole, Bealomondore pulled some of the loose bricks closer to make a barrier. They sat back in the darkness and listened as the hunters stormed right past their hiding hole.

  “Can we stay here for a while?” asked Ellie. “My shins hurt. And Tak looks all in.”

  The goat had collapsed near a sidewall. Ellie could just make out his shaggy white coat. Airon perched on a box and chittered. She heard the dragon’s agreement in her mind.

  “Yes,” said Bealomondore. “If they don’t spot us for a while, they will probably lose interest.”

  For a long time, no one spoke. Various groups of children passed from time to time. They no longer ran but trudged past. Disparaging remarks about the wee ones, the bird, and the dog became softer, less vehement. The last pack made muttering sounds and dragged their feet. When no more came by, Ellie wondered if they had found comfy spots to nap. She could have used some water, a more comfortable room, and a good sleep.

  “How far are we from the library?” she asked.

  “Not far, but these little brutes can be intuitive. They probably have guards along any route we would take. If we can get past a certain point, we’ll be safe. They don’t like to get too close to Old One’s territory.”

  After some time, Bealomondore suggested they make a dash to the library. Ellie agreed. Airon went out to scout and came back to report the main street clear. Ellie beamed.

  “What?” asked Bealomondore.

  “I hear almost everything she mindspeaks now.”

  He returned her smile, and she basked in his approval. Not everything about being stuck in a bottle city was bad.

  They entered the alley and made their way to the corner and the main street. Tak lagged behind, and Ellie wondered if he was hurt. She asked Airon, who related that Tak wanted food, water, and no more running. That sounded like a good plan to Ellie. Airon added that Tak was being particularly grump
y.

  She put her arm around the goat’s neck. “As soon as we get to the library, we are going to rest a great deal.”

  After they moved two blocks closer to their sanctuary, Airon again scouted ahead and brought back a report that several children sat in an alley they would have to pass, but they looked very sleepy.

  “Shall we try it?” asked Bealomondore.

  Ellie nodded. “I’m game.”

  They tiptoed down the street, keeping an eye on the alley Airon pointed out as the trouble spot. They passed on the opposite side of the street and could see the slumping forms in the shadows. When they were clearly out of danger, Bealomondore quickened the pace.

  The library loomed at the end of the street. Ellie couldn’t take her eyes off of it. She strode beside Bealomondore, forgetting how tired her legs had been only moments before. Far ahead of them, Airon flew into a third-story window. She smiled when Tak offered a “Maa!” He was happy to see home too. But the second “Maa!” had a different tone.

  She whirled around and saw two urohm boys standing between Tak and her. Tak stood his ground, lowering his head a trifle and staring. He looked too angry to be captured, but she didn’t trust the boys to have good judgment. She tiptoed back and felt Bealomondore close behind. Two boys lunged out of the side street.

  “Tak, run!” she called.

  Tak bounced back and forth, pivoting on his back legs, unsure which way to go. The two boys in front of the goat let out a screech and tackled him. The other two piled on top.

  “Let him go!” She ran forward.

  Bealomondore snatched at her arm, but she shook him off. “Let him go!”

  Three more children rushed her from one side and grabbed hold of her arm. She tried to wrench herself free.

  Another child came out of nowhere and locked on to her other arm.

  “We got the dog!” screamed a child from the arms and legs twisted together on top of Tak.

  “We got a wee one!” yelled her captors.

  “Where’s the other wee one?” cried a child with curly hair and pouty lips.