Dragons of the Watch Page 20

  They started down the street again.

  “I can have fun all by myself,” she pointed out.

  “Yes, but it is the law of the universe, Soo-tie, that some things are more fun when done with others. You can’t dispute that. On occasion, the addition of more players multiplies the fun.”

  She nodded vaguely. Ellie figured she’d have to think that one over for a while. Soo-tie probably couldn’t add or subtract, let alone multiply. However, Bealomondore’s grand way of explaining ideas made them sound acceptable.

  Soo-tie looked with big, wondering eyes at Bealomondore. “The others make me safe?”

  Ellie answered. “When all of you learn manners, you will be safe. Because manners are the demonstration of respect for one another. Respect for one another grows courage. Respect sprouts determination to preserve what is good. Respect builds love and compassion.”

  Three sets of eyes again turned to Bealomondore.

  “She’s saying that manners help you be good, and when you’re good, others tend to be good too, and pretty soon you will all be good to one another except when you make mistakes. Then one of you will choose to be good about the mistake, and that starts everyone being good again.”

  Porky looked very doubtful. “And all of this good is not boring?”

  “Not boring at all,” Bealomondore reassured him.

  Porky hunched his shoulders and let them drop. “We’ll see. I’m not sure manners are going to be fun.”

  “Me neither,” said Cinder.

  “I bet we miss noonmeal,” said Porky.

  Ellie sighed. Bealomondore winked at her.

  He pointed. “There’s the apothecary.”

  Ellie used her fingertips to brush Porky’s hair out of his eyes. “Now keep your hands away from the wound. Don’t pick. Don’t scratch. The sticking plaster will keep the sides of the cut together until Laddin can heal it tomorrow.”

  Porky reached for the plaster on his head. “Who’s Laddin?”

  Ellie batted his hand away. “A dragon of the watch.”

  “A real dragon?” Soo-tie asked.

  Bealomondore looked over his shoulder at the three children. His attention had been on the rows and rows of small medicine bottles. “Yes, a real minor dragon, not a bird.”

  “Fairy tales,” said Soo-tie.

  Porky squinted a glare at Bealomondore. “We know about fairy tales.”

  Ellie put a hand under Porky’s chin and turned his face back to look at her. “What do you know about fairy tales?”

  Cinder balanced on one foot with his arms sticking out. “They aren’t true.”

  Soo-tie plopped down on the floor. “Pepper used to tell fairy tales every night.”

  Ellie thought Soo-tie sounded sad. “She doesn’t anymore?”

  “He doesn’t anymore.”

  “He’s gone,” said Porky.

  Ellie almost asked where he’d gone and then realized that the child must have died. She busied herself cleaning up the bits and pieces left over from plastering Porky’s cut.

  “When did he leave?” asked Bealomondore.

  Three little bodies gave three shrugs.

  “A week ago,” said Cinder.

  “Nah,” said Porky. “Longer. Two weeks ago.”

  Ellie and Bealomondore looked to Soo-tie for a comment. She shrugged again, perhaps with a little more vigor than the first time.

  Ellie knew fairy tales as well. Maybe some of them might be ones these children recognized. “Do you remember any of the names of the fairy tales?”

  Soo-tie nodded, and her face lit up. “ ‘Rando and the Blue Fan.’ ‘Koomee-Kootah.’ ‘The Hill on the Mountain.’ ‘Five Little Brothers.’ ”

  Porky bounced on the stool he sat upon. “ ‘Seven Tin Cups.’ ”

  “ ‘Nine Days of Trouble,’ ” sang Cinder.

  “I’m afraid I don’t know any of those.” Ellie looked at Bealomondore. “Do you?”

  He shook his head.

  “Can we go now?” asked Porky. “It’s awful close to noonmeal.”

  “Yes,” said Ellie, “but meet us here tomorrow.”

  They charged out the front door, leaving Ellie and Bealomondore to examine the contents of the shelves, taking note of things they might need in the future.

  Ellie held up a squat green jar. “Here’s some ointment for Old One’s sore knees.”

  “Look at this shelf.”

  Ellie came to stand beside Bealomondore. “Bug pills?”

  Bealomondore grinned and picked up one that read “Powdered Eggstram Snails.” He shook it, held it up to the light, and turned the bottle to see how much it contained.

  “What are Eggstram Snails good for?” asked Ellie.

  “Temper tantrums in toddlers, anxiety in adults.”

  “I think I’d throw a temper tantrum if you suggested I consume that powder.”

  “You put it in a beverage, and you can hardly taste it.”

  Ellie examined his expression to see if he might be pulling her leg. “You’ve tried it?”

  “Yes, for fear of heights.”

  “You don’t seem to be afflicted with any fears. You climbed up to get my blouse this morning. That drainpipe didn’t look safe to me, but you didn’t seem to have any qualms.”

  “I’m talking about significantly higher heights.”

  She arched her eyebrows at him. Surely he was baiting her to have her plead for more complete information. She wouldn’t beg.

  His manner charmed her, but his words brought her back to old suspicions. “I never got the hang of riding on a dragon. I get airsickness.”

  Ellie’s trust wavered. In spite of the mischievous gleam in his eye, the look on her fellow tumanhofer’s face registered as sincere. Either she was the most gullible of country misses, or he told the truth. She decided his telling the truth was more acceptable to her all the way around.

  She held up the ointment jar and turned it back and forth. “Let’s take the ointment back to Old One and check on making more daggarts.”

  “More daggarts? Ellie, I hate to tell you this, but I don’t think the daggart strategy is working.”

  “We’ll work out a system. We’re smarter than the average six-year-old.”

  “These children have practiced being six for centuries. The only thing I’m sure of is that we run faster.” He put the bottle of snail powder in his pocket. “They have more stamina, but we are more strategic in evading them.”

  “Just listen to you,” Ellie scoffed. “You sound like the children are an enemy and you’re making plans for battle.”

  “I have to admit that I do think of them in terms of minimizing losses during an engagement.”

  He held up a hand to ward off her protests. “The assumption may be the aftereffects of spending a lot of the last two years in the service of our king, defending Chiril.”

  “Our community wasn’t much affected by the war. Some of our neighbors experienced odd shifts in attitude. My brothers became extra feisty, Gramps was morose, my sisters and I lacked the energy to do our chores.”

  “That strange malady of soul struck all over Chiril. The three statues being out of alignment caused the personality disorders. The invading army took advantage of our weakness, but they didn’t trigger the disruptive behavior.”

  They walked back to the library and joined Tak in the library park. The goat jumped and skittered and playfully head-butted the tumanhofers.

  “He sure is glad to see us,” said Bealomondore.

  “He’s definitely a people goat.”

  “How’s that?”

  “He prefers to be with people more than with other goats. I hand-fed him as a kid, and I think he assumes he is more tumanhofer than goat.”

  Bealomondore gave Tak a vigorous back scratch. “He is unquestionably intelligent.”

  Ellie frowned. “He acted more like a goat at home. He liked to be around people, but he didn’t interfere with what I had to do. There have been times since we came into the bo
ttle … He’s directed me.”

  She didn’t want Bealomondore to think she was tetched, so she hedged her statement. “Sort of, you know. Not really, but kind of.”

  Bealomondore laughed out loud. Ellie crossed her arms over her chest and thrust her chin out.

  He stifled his laughter. “Since I met Tipper Schope and, through her, Verrin Schope, Lady Peg, Wizard Fenworth, and Librettowit …” He chuckled. “Well, things have not been what they seem, ‘sort of, not really, but kind of.’ I know exactly how you feel. Any time a wizard is involved, reality slips and slides and has a hard time staying steady.”

  “And that’s the magic at work?”

  “No, no, wizards, good wizards, don’t delve into magic.”

  “But—”

  “Wizards like Verrin Schope and Fenworth spend years developing an intimate knowledge of how Wulder organizes the universe. Then they facilitate His order without going out of the boundaries of His regulation.”

  “If that’s what good wizards are doing, what are bad wizards doing?”

  He pulled her into his arms and swung her around, then kissed her.

  She protested halfheartedly. “What was that for?”

  “For asking intelligent questions and for believing I have the answers.”

  “Kissing me is a fine distraction, but I haven’t forgotten the question.” He stood smiling at her until she felt the urge to prod him back to the conversation. “So what do bad wizards do?”

  “First, what they do, they do with dreadful motives. A core of selfishness colors all their actions. Good wizards desire to serve. Bad wizards desire power to make others subservient to them. Good wizards improve the situations of others. Bad wizards improve their own situations without regard for whom it may hinder or harm.”

  Old One’s roar from the library startled them. They turned as one to learn what caused the commotion. The urohm stood at an open window at the very top of the building, his face red and his white hair streamed around his head as if tousled by a strong wind. The calm air in the garden chilled Ellie.

  “Come. I need your help,” he called. “Hurry! There’s more than ever before!”

  Bealomondore, Ellie, and Tak all ran for the gate, then down the short walkway to the back entrance. Tak led the way and clambered up the grating with no help. Ellie followed, with Bealomondore giving her a hand.

  Old One’s bellows reverberated through the library. By the time Ellie and Bealomondore ran into the rotunda, Tak was bounding up the last few steps of the stairs to the second floor.

  He stood at the top, complaining loudly and stamping his feet. His eyes focused on the second staircase. The tumanhofers on the ground floor could not see what he saw. With a final long blast of objection, Tak turned and plunged down the way he had come. The tramping of heavy footsteps announced Old One’s rapid descent.

  A swarm of fist-sized, black batlike creatures poured from the upper floor and chased the goat.

  Bealomondore drew his sword. “Take cover,” he ordered Ellie. She ran to the vestibule, snatched an umbrella out of the umbrella stand, and came back to his side.

  Tak rushed past them, and they began to swing at the throng of black beasts that followed. Orli appeared among the cloud. He spat at the opponents. Once hit, the animal would squeal and fall to the ground. Ellie quit batting at the air for fear of hitting the white dragon. She backed up a little and surveyed the scene.

  Old One collapsed halfway down the last staircase. A cloud of creatures attacked him. He made an effort to bat them away, but put up little fight. She dodged through the melee and scrambled up the oversize steps as quickly as she could. Once beside Old One, she grabbed at the beasts with her bare hands. Their soft, scaly bodies crumpled in her clasp, and she dropped the dead creatures as quickly as she picked them off his body.

  Two of the horrid creatures swooped in and grabbed her hair, instantly tangled in her locks. She screamed and struck them with frantic slaps. As soon as one fell away, more swooped in to torment her.

  As she struggled, Tak came to her side. He took over butting at the beasts clinging to the old urohm. The round hall quieted, and Bealomondore arrived to help. He dispatched the last live animal stuck in her hair.

  He put his arm around her. “It’s over. They’re dead.”

  “Old One?”

  Bealomondore reached to touch the urohm’s neck. “He’s alive. Some nasty bites.” Examining her arms and legs and face, he asked, “You? Are you hurt?”

  She put her hand to her head and grasped a dead creature still tangled in her hair.

  “Get it out,” she cried. “Oh, Bealomondore, get it out!”

  She covered her face as he worked to free not only the one she’d discovered but two more. As he worked at the frustrating task, she sobbed. “Cut it out. Cut my hair.”

  “Now, Ellie.” He sounded more stressed than reassuring. “Ellie, we’re all right. This will just take a moment. One left.”

  When he threw the last one down, she turned into his embrace and allowed him to cradle her as she cried.

  “Pull yourself together, love. We have to see to Old One, Tak, and Orli.” She lifted her head and made herself look. Old One lay where he had fallen, covered with red wounds no bigger than the end of her thumb. Tak had doubled up his legs, fallen on the step, and lay with his head extended before him, eyes closed. On the floor of the rotunda, still, lifeless black bodies surrounded an unmoving Orli.

  Ellie jumped to see to Tak. Bealomondore moved to examine Old One.

  “Tak,” she whispered.

  His eyes slitted open. A weak “maa” answered her. His eyes closed again. She ran a hand over his white coat. Tiny red spots of blood exposed the many bites he’d suffered. She only had a few scratches. She looked at Bealomondore. He had no visible bites. Apparently, the creatures did not like the taste of tumanhofer blood.

  Bealomondore swept dead bodies into a pile. He had no idea what these black creatures were called or where they came from. Old One was still sprawled on the steps. Bealomondore and Ellie could not move him. They’d cleaned his wounds and applied an ointment they thought would help. Then they had worked on Tak, who had numerous bites but didn’t seem to be as afflicted as the urohm.

  Now Ellie soothed Orli, his spots less significant than the goat’s. Clearly the minor dragon suffered from nerves, so Ellie sat cross-legged on the floor, humming to Orli, with Tak tucked up next to her.

  She interrupted her tune. “Bealomondore?”

  “Yes?”

  “We must figure out a way to signal the watch when we need them immediately.”

  “If Orli felt brave enough to venture forth, he could locate them quickly.”

  “Well, he doesn’t right now.” She drew him closer. “And I don’t blame him. That was a nasty attack. And I suppose it was unprovoked. I can’t imagine Old One or Orli inciting such furor.”

  Bealomondore took his broom with him as he struggled up the steps to check on Old One again. He knelt beside his head and felt the pulse in his throat.

  “The same.” He answered Ellie’s question before she asked. “I agree. I’d be more comfortable if we could summon the watch. Surely there was a system in place years ago.”

  Ellie picked up his theory and continued. “And everyone’s forgotten how to use it or even what it was for.” She went on with her own train of thought. “I don’t think it’s useful for the dragons of the watch to do daily rounds of the city. Obviously nothing is out there to cause harm.”

  “Perhaps these little black monsters attack the city.” Bealomondore sat on the step next to Old One’s shoulder. “I’ll ask Det and Laddin about the duties they need to perform and what they encounter on these tours.”

  He eased himself down to the next step and swept away the crumpled creatures. “They’re disintegrating.”

  Ellie tilted her head and furrowed her brow. She looked at his pile. “Oh, I see. Not so much substance anymore. They’re more like bits and pieces and dust.”
She crinkled her nose. “When I picked them off of Old One, they broke in my hand, like a crumbly biscuit.”

  Bealomondore didn’t want her to get suddenly remorseful over slaying an enemy. He knocked the mound of coarse black powder off the step. “It’s a good thing their bodies crushed on contact. There were way too many for us to defend ourselves if they’d been sturdier.”

  He moved down to clean up the next level. “Has Orli calmed down?” At her nod, he went on. “See if you can communicate with our dragon friend and find out what happened. Where did these things come from? Does he know what they’re called?”

  Bealomondore tidied two more steps before Ellie had the answers.

  “Orli says that these are wusstbunters. They are thoughts from the wizard. Bad thoughts. They reflect his frustration.”

  “They aren’t real?”

  Ellie lifted one shoulder. “They are, just as the food is real, the real shoes never wear out, and the clothing’s real but does not fall apart even as old as it is. Orli says the wizard sustains it all, but sometimes he gets irritated at the urohms, and then these wusstbunters escape.”

  He’d thought he had it all figured out, but this put a new page in the book of Rumbard City. “So Wulder is not our provider?”

  “Indirectly. Wulder put the wizard in charge of the city’s maintenance. The wizard was charged with establishing the new generation of urohms as followers of Wulder. The children are to be educated in the Tomes and instilled with a commitment to stand for love, mercy, and honor.”

  Bealomondore snorted. “Those children are to be like knights? That’s what he’s saying, you know. That those riotous, willful, unruly, wild, unmanageable horrors are to champion the innocent, protect the weak, right the wrongs inflicted on the lowly, and lift the humble to a better station.”

  He paused for a moment, unable to imagine the little beggars turning from selfishness to selflessness. He lifted his arms and let them fall again. “No wonder the wizard gets frustrated. The task given to him is impossible.”

  Ellie cuddled the dragon close to her neck, and he rubbed affectionately along her chin. “Orli says that we can do two things that will change the course of Rumbard City.”