Dragons of the Watch (34 page)

A hand on his shoulder pulled Bealomondore out of the healing circle. It took him a moment to regain his bearings. Porky breathed easier, some color had returned to his cheeks, and the minor dragons still draped themselves over his body, providing the restorative dose of energy.

Bealomondore leaned back and broke his connection. He looked up to see Ellie’s concerned face.

“I think Laddin can return him to health.” He looked again at the young urohm. “It may take more than one treatment. I want to try to take him back to the library.”

“That’s the right thing to do, but Old One and Orli will probably object.”

A muffled squeal alerted Bealomondore to Cinder, Soo-tie, and Tak standing near a stack of wooden chairs. The girl had her hand over her mouth. Cinder glared at her. Tak chewed his cud with half-closed eyes.

Bealomondore cocked an eyebrow at them. “Do you want to go with us? I don’t like the idea of leaving you out here where Yawn could capture you.”

Soo-tie’s eyes grew big. “We can’t go in the library. Old One’ll kill us.”

Bealomondore sighed. “As I told Porky earlier, Old One is grouchy, not murderous.”

“We still can’t go in there.” Cinder puckered his lips and squinted his eyes. “If we aren’t in our beds by the time the moon comes up, we won’t have food.”

Ellie put her arm around Cinder’s waist. Her cheek rested against his shoulder. “Don’t worry, Cinder. We’ll feed you.”

“Maa!”

Amee sat up on Porky’s chest and shook her head as if clearing her ears of water. She bobbed a couple of times, then took off to sit on Tak’s head.

“Maa.”

Amee’s thoughts intertwined with a confusion of input running through Bealomondore’s brain. “Ah yes, the wagon. Excellent idea.”

Bealomondore turned to his companion. “Ellie—”

“I know. I heard it too. But I think you deciphered all that information faster than I did.” She knelt beside the unconscious boy. “We’d never be able to carry him.”

Bealomondore nodded. “Are you comfortable with the idea of staying here with Porky and the dragons while Tak and I go get the wagon?”

“Yes, we’ll be fine. Better take Det to scout.”

He smiled. The thought to take his minor dragon with him had just formed in his mind. He could see a long future where he’d never know which one of them had thought of an idea first. He leaned over and kissed her temple, then moved toward a smashed entryway with Tak following.

He stopped just outside the door and looked back at Soo-tie and Cinder. “You should come with us when we move Porky.”

“Yes,” Ellie said. “We would be less anxious about your well-being if we had you under our care.”

The two children turned puzzled faces to Bealomondore.

“She means we’ll be worried sick unless we can see that you’re all right. Come with us to the library.”

Soo-tie nodded, but Cinder muttered, “Maybe.”

“Think about it.” Bealomondore followed Tak.

As he took a step into the sunshine, he felt Ellie’s reaction as she noticed his sword. Strangely, she didn’t object. Apparently seeing Porky, bruised and bloodied by “just children,” had altered her belief that the gangs could be reasonable and won over with love and daggarts.

Det flew high, circled, and then returned with a report that a group
of ten children had congregated nearby. Bealomondore darted into an alley in an attempt to circumvent the ambushers. Det made another surveillance flight and came back with news of two more clutches of possible assailants.

Bealomondore brought up an image of the streets in his head. The map reflected how Det saw the city from his aerial point of view. Bealomondore couldn’t see a route that would avoid all three bands of children. “Do you have any suggestions?”

Det chittered as his opinion flowed into the tumanhofer’s head.

“I know they’re kids and will lose patience soon.” Bealomondore tilted his head while he took in Det’s comments. “I suppose we could wait a few minutes.”

Following Det’s lead, he walked to the closest point of safety. Tak butted the back of his legs, but he refused to go any farther until he got the all clear.

He dodged into the empty building at the corner and climbed the stairs to get a view of the surrounding area. If he could go across the rooftops, he’d be back at the library in a few minutes. But even if he did find a route, Tak wouldn’t be able to follow him.

The view from the top floor didn’t help. The group of children farthest from the front of the library looked like one of the leaderless bands, playing lethargically at the stone and twig game.

A movement caught his eye, and he focused on an area several blocks away. A flicker of gray appeared between two buildings then, but it passed too quickly across an alleyway for Bealomondore to determine what it was.

By watching the next gaps between buildings, Bealomondore caught glimpses of the shadow as it made its way toward the center of Rumbard. With each sighting, he became more convinced that the being was from
one of the high or low races. It advanced with purpose, with a long deliberate stride, giving the impression of a man on a mission.

The agile figure was too quick and too short to be Old One. His build was not thick enough to be one of the urohm children. His wispy form floated, and his robes swayed as he moved forward. At times he seemed to have no substance at all.

“If I believed in ghosts, Tak, I’d say we’re looking at one. But I don’t believe in ghosts, and I doubt you have formed an opinion.”

Whoever he was, he didn’t travel alone. Tiny, shimmering birds of many colors swarmed around his head. These creatures drifted apart and re-formed, very much like Verrin Schope did when his three statues were not aligned correctly. The flickering made it hard for Bealomondore to determine which species they were, and it piqued his curiosity.

“I wish I had a spyglass.”

The gray figure came into view once more. He drifted toward the fountain, with his hovering assembly swarming close to the peaked hat on his head.

Bealomondore whispered his suspicion. “A wizard’s hat.” He patted Tak on the back. “Let’s go get a better look.”

Tak kept up with Bealomondore as he plunged down the stairs. The tumanhofer stopped at the door and listened. He heard nothing that sounded suspiciously like undisciplined ruffians, so he peeked out. Seeing nothing to deter him, he dashed down the alley in the direction of the mysterious visitor.

At each corner, he paused to make sure no gangs of children lurked between him and his goal. Det circled, bringing back information. Sometimes Bealomondore had to make a detour as the young varmints wandered in their play. Tak seemed to have a sixth sense about which direction would be safest. Finally Bealomondore realized that the minor dragon communicated to the goat.

The tumanhofer laughed at himself as he rubbed the fur between Tak’s horns. “That explains a lot. I suppose Amee, with her special talent, facilitated your ability to hear the dragons mindspeak. But if you start mindspeaking to me, I won’t be responsible for my reactions.”

“Maa!”

“Don’t do that. It makes it seem like you understand me.”

“Maa!”

“Well, I suppose you do to some extent, but I refuse to have conversations with you.” He rubbed between Tak’s stubby horns. “At least not when someone might hear me.”

Det flew back and perched on Tak’s back. The goat looked over his shoulder. “Maa!”

Bealomondore objected. “Let’s have a conversation I can understand.”

Det’s description of the elusive figure raised even more questions. The apparition was neither man nor beast. It had no substance. Det could see right through it and through the colorful winged creatures hovering about its pointed head. Det made it clear that they were not birds but were more like the wusstbunters that had attacked Old One and Orli.

“Well,” said Bealomondore to his audience of two, “wusstbunters weren’t phantoms. They were real enough to leave bites the size of my thumb, and plenty of them.”

Whatever they followed managed to keep just beyond a point where Bealomondore could round a corner and get a clear view. The pictures Det projected with his mindspeaking reflected the information he’d conveyed, a hazy shape somewhat the build of an o’rant. And the pointy top could be a wizard’s hat.

“I believe he’s going to the main fountain.” Bealomondore acted on his hunch and took a quick, direct route through a warehouse and a fancy eatery to one of his favorite lookouts.

Det reported that the figure continued on a path that would take him to the circle.

In a moment, the shadow appeared a mere dozen feet from where Bealomondore hid. Still, the precise nature of the being eluded the tumanhofer.

Yes, the thing looked vaguely like an o’rant. But no o’rant Bealomondore had ever encountered could be seen through.

Up close, the objects in flight around the pointed form looked more like tiny bats than birds. Their iridescence indicated their bodies to be translucent, having more form than the thing they hovered over. As an artist, Bealomondore acknowledged the fact that light could not sparkle off a nonsubstance. The mystery figure must be an illusion, whereas the flying creatures were actually there.

The vague shape stood still. At his sides an appendage rose like an arm and swept through the air in a gesture encompassing the scene before Bealomondore.

Baskets and platters of food appeared. The horde’s meal had been delivered. As the shape’s arm fell to his side, the entire image sharpened for a second before he flickered out.

A wizard. Long white beard and hair. Pointed hat. Robes embroidered with elaborate scenes of mountains.

Bealomondore could not see the wizard’s face. But this had to be Wizard Pater on one of his daily rounds, providing sustenance for those in his bottle city.

The tumanhofer watched from less than a dozen feet as the man strolled through the open area surrounding the fountain. He never stopped. Nor did he make another gesture, or even say a command, yet more food appeared in baskets and on platters.

The wizard strolled on in the direction of the butcher shop. The tumanhofer stayed where he was.

Children poured into the fountain circle from all directions. They tore into the food greedily.

Bealomondore remembered the nature of his errand. He and Tak must get the wagon. With the streets empty, they could transport Porky in safety.

Ellie sat in the healing circle. She’d insisted that Soo-tie and Cinder join them as well. The children objected to having to sit still and didn’t seem to care much whether Porky lived or died.

“Isn’t he your friend?” asked Ellie.

Soo-tie shrugged.

“Sort of,” said Cinder.

Ellie feared the children would hear the exasperation in her voice. She took a deep breath before asking, “What do you mean by ‘sort of’?”

“I don’t know.”

Another deep breath. “Is Soo-tie your friend?”

Soo-tie giggled.

A look of horror chased away Cinder’s sullen expression. He jerked his head back and forth. “No, double no, and triple no.”

“What’s wrong with having friends?”

Cinder’s shrug could have knocked clinging cats off his shoulders. “Don’t know.”

Soo-tie squeezed Ellie’s hand. “Yawn says no friends.”

“Why?”

Soo-tie stared at Porky’s pale face for a moment before speaking. “Friends disappear. I cried when Lulu was gone.”

“You’ve had lots of friends disappear?”

Her childish face scrunched with concentration. “Sometimes I think so, but I only remember Lulu.”

“There was Tad,” said Cinder.

Soo-tie’s grip tightened on Ellie’s hand. “I don’t remember Tad.”

A rustle at the door made them all jump.

Soo-tie squeezed hard at the noise then relaxed. “That’s Toady and Grim. They’re nobody special.”

Ellie, who considered each of her bothersome siblings special, examined these two newcomers with a different perspective. Shaggy hair, dirty faces, wary eyes, tight-lipped and anxious, the children looked very needy and special. She smiled and gestured for them to come in.

One spoke. Ellie didn’t know it if it was Toady or Grim. “Do you have food?”