Read Dragons of the Watch Page 8


  After he poured, he offered sugar and cream. She shook her head and took a sip of the warm, dark brew. It wasn’t a tea she recognized, but her mother had only brought home one of the two varieties available in the village.

  “Delicious,” she said.

  “It doesn’t come with our meals. It’s always here. I suppose the librarians fixed tea during their workdays. Or perhaps they had little tea parties for the children.”

  Ellie set the cup down on the table. “Possibly.”

  She looked at the teakettle. “That is such an unusual contraption. Does it sit on a stove?” She turned toward the counter behind the librarians’ desk.

  “No.” Bealomondore pronounced the word slowly. “As with many things in Rumbard City, I am at a loss to explain how this works. If you fill the kettle with water and put it on a circle that looks to be part of the counter, the circle turns red and the water boils. So you could cook there if you wanted to.” He laughed. “I’m a better cook over a campfire.”

  That made her cast him another inquiring look, but he chose to change the subject.

  “Det and Laddin don’t particularly care for sifting through all these books, so they joined the watch. It suits them to nose around the city, flying a routine inspection tour every night. And it helps the overworked members of the watch.”

  She refused to ask a question since it would only encourage him to invent more falderal. He didn’t need any encouragement.

  “There are five dragons in the watch. With Det and Laddin, they have seven. They keep an eye on things. That’s how I knew you’d entered the city. They told me, and I went looking for you.”

  She nodded and finished her tea. She wiped her mouth with a napkin and stood. She wanted to say something extremely clever to put this prankster in his place, but she couldn’t think of anything other than, “I don’t believe a word you say,” which seemed unsatisfactory as a stinging rebuff.

  She stood straight, trying to look as dignified as Mistress Clamber did when she walked down the sidewalk of the village. She turned to stride off in a stately manner but stopped short. Along the top of one of the short bookcases, seven dragons, no bigger than kittens, sat staring at her. They were many different colors, quite beautiful. Their wings either folded against their bodies or extended out from their torsos as if at a casual stance. They looked intelligent.

  Ellie finally managed to think of something to say. She curtsied. “Good morning.”

  The dragons flew into the air, did flips and dazzling acrobatics. The flash and dance of the display mesmerized Ellie. One of them sang, and although Ellie didn’t recognize any of the words, the tune reached into her heart and created a bubbling wellspring of joy.

  Bealomondore came and stood beside her.

  “Can you hear them speaking to you?”

  She started. “No, they aren’t saying anything. That purple one is singing—you can see her lips move. But the others are silent.”

  “Well, you wouldn’t see their lips move when they communicate with you. They mindspeak.”

  “Oh.”

  The dragons enlarged their performance by spreading out across the children’s area. They flew around Bealomondore and Ellie and did their fancy moves above, between, and around them. At first Ellie ducked and dodged the speedy dragons but soon learned they would not bump into her. She relaxed again and allowed their exuberance to stir a thrill that urged her to join in the dance.

  Bealomondore stepped in front of her, bowed, and swooped her into a rollicking country dance. The two tumanhofers whirled around the open space and then up and down the aisles of books. When the dragon song and dance came to an end, she and Bealomondore collapsed, sitting on one of the child-size tables, panting and laughing. The dragons settled around them, two on Bealomondore’s shoulders and the others on nearby furniture.

  When he’d caught his breath, Bealomondore lifted one dragon off his shoulder and held him out for her to greet.

  “This is Laddin. He’s a healing dragon. He’s been with me for two years.”

  Ellie dipped her head. “Pleased to meet you.”

  “Did you hear him?”

  Ellie twisted her mouth and gave Bealomondore an impatient look. “Of course not.”

  “Well, he says, ‘Pleased to meet you as well,’ and for me to be patient with you. One of the dragons will stay with you today and awaken your ability to mindspeak.”

  She looked from the dragon to the tumanhofer and back to the dragon and again to Bealomondore’s sincere expression.

  “How do you know I have any ability to talk to the dragons?”

  Bealomondore shrugged. “Why do you assume you do not?”

  “Perhaps tumanhofers from my family, or from my part of the country, are stifled in this area. You say you have an artistic talent—”

  “When did I say that?”

  “You said you were asked to do a wedding portrait for Paladin and Princess Tipper.”

  “Oh yes, I remember mentioning that.”

  She quirked an eyebrow at him. “Was that not true?”

  He looked her in the eye and spoke calmly. “I’m not a liar, Ellicinderpart.”

  She ducked her head, unable to meet his earnest gaze. “I’m sorry.”

  He took her hand and squeezed it. “I have to admit that when I first met Princess Tipper, her family, and friends, I often thought they were crazy. And Lady Peg gave me a word to describe liars who mean no harm.”

  “Liars that mean no harm?”

  “When you meet Lady Peg, you’ll understand. She has a very unique perception of the world.” He smiled and Ellie thought he must be fond of the woman. “She’s Tipper’s mother and the wife of Verrin Schope, scholar, artist, and wizard.”

  “I don’t think I’ve heard of either one.”

  For a brief moment, his face registered amazement mixed with dismay. His expression returned to polite interest so quickly that she wondered if she’d imagined his reaction.

  “Lady Peg is the daughter of King Yellat and Queen Venmarie. She married Verrin Schope. He is a stunning intellect versed in everything from mechanics to anatomy. And his artistic abilities—he astonishes the world with paintings, sketches, sculpture, carvings. There’s no end to his genius. He fell through a portal fifteen or so years ago and ended up in Amara. There he developed skills as a wizard under the tutelage of a very old wizard named Fenworth and his librarian, Librettowit, a fine tumanhofer. And he was introduced to Wulder, the one and only true and living God.”

  Ellie felt her eyebrows stretched above her eyes and deliberately brought them down, trying to compose a look of acceptance to these wild declarations.

  “So Boscamon is a myth?”

  “Yes!” He seemed pleased with her question. “Boscamon is fiction, made up to fill the need we have to believe that there is an ultimate authority in the universe. His tale is a placeholder waiting to be replaced with truth. Wulder has been unknown to us, and Paladin has been charged with establishing His followers in His truth in the land of Chiril.”

  His enthusiasm stirred a desire to know more, but one statement Bealomondore made did not hold true. She had to point it out. “Old One knows of Wulder.”

  Bealomondore frowned at her for a moment, then a memory brought wonder to his face. “The journal! He mentioned Wulder in the journal.”

  She nodded. “Why does he know who Wulder is? And it sounded as if Old One regards Wulder as someone in authority. What does he know that the rest of Chiril doesn’t?”

  Bealomondore rested his palm across his chin and stroked his jaw with the three lower fingers. He puzzled for a moment before speaking again. “This is most intriguing. And let’s add to the list of questions. Why were the urohms concentrated in this city? Why was the populace exclusively urohms? That’s not true of any other city in Chiril. The kimens keep to themselves for the most part, but they’re not isolated. They do interact with the other races.”

  “Why is the urohm city so grand?”

>   Bealomondore turned his attention to the dragon on his shoulder. “Det says there is no poor section of Rumbard City. There is no evidence of poverty.”

  Ellie cleared her throat. “You said Lady Peg gave you a word for lying with no harm intended.”

  “Ah yes. It is fibberlating. The person had fibbed but intends to tell the truth later, when it is more convenient. Mind you, she doesn’t approve of fibberlation. And if you ask her why, you will get a long and complicated explanation, at the end of which you will still have no idea of the reasons for her conviction, but you will be thoroughly convinced of her basic goodness.”

  “Really?”

  He nodded his head vigorously. “Most assuredly.”

  “Are you fibberlating to me at this very moment?”

  He stood straighter and laid his hand upon his breast. “I am of the same opinion as Lady Peg. To fibberlate is to stoop below the dignity Wulder has bestowed upon us.” He relaxed his stance and leaned forward to whisper in a conspiratorial manner. “But truly I think that last bit is Lady Peg echoing a sentiment she has heard Verrin Schope espouse.” He rolled his eyes. “Please don’t ever use the word espouse around Lady Peg. That is one of those words that is sure to set her off.”

  With a grin on her face, Ellie slowly shook her head back and forth, totally bewildered. “I will probably never meet Lady Peg, and I don’t think I could truly understand what you mean unless I did meet her face to face.”

  Bealomondore dropped his bantering air and looked quite sincere. “You will meet Lady Peg, Ellicinderpart. I will introduce you to her myself.”

  Before she could think of a reply, the dragons burst into noisy chittering.

  “What are they saying?” asked Ellie.

  “They have to go out on their rounds, and they want to be introduced before they go.”

  The dragons lined up on the bookcase as they had when they first came that morning.

  “You’ve met Det and Laddin. Kriss, the light green one—”

  The little dragon did a flip on the bookcase.

  “She’s a procurer of food, which isn’t needed much in Rumbard City, and it makes her sad that she cannot enjoy her favorite pastimes of gardening and cooking.”

  Ellie curtsied to each dragon as Bealomondore introduced them.

  “Maree predicts the weather.”

  The blue dragon dipped his head.

  “His skills are underused as well. And Amee”—the dragon hopped at the mention of her name, and her scales shone with markings black as ebony and creamy white that looked like ivory—“is a wonder at communicating with animals, securing their cooperation, and negotiating disputes among them.”

  Ellie’s eyes widened as she curtsied. A dragon diplomat to the animal kingdom! Her eyes shifted to the next in line, an orange and yellow fellow. The dragon wiggled in a funny dance, and Ellie giggled.

  “Soosahn is a laughter dragon, able to see humor in most situations and dedicated to lifting the spirits of those around him.”

  “And,” said Ellie, “the purple dragon sings.”

  “Yes, Airon is musical.”

  “I am very pleased to meet you all. I’m sorry that I don’t hear you when you mindspeak. I hope I can learn how.” All the dragons turned to look at Airon.

  Bealomondore smiled. “Airon has been chosen to be your tutor. They feel that she is most likely to be able to reach your mind and begin the communication lessons.”

  The dragons leaped into the air and flew in a circle.

  “They’re saying good-bye.”

  “Will I see them again?”

  “Yes. They like you.”

  She grinned. The dragons flew in a line toward the stairs to the upper levels, all except Airon. The purple dragon circled around Bealomondore and Ellie. With each turn her circle became smaller.

  “She’s going to land on your shoulder. Try not to cringe.”

  “Do her claws hurt?”

  Bealomondore laughed. “She says her claws do not hurt. Do your toes hurt?”

  Ellie gasped. “She understands me.”

  “Yes, you’re the one with the problem, not her.”

  She made a face at him but didn’t really feel any annoyance. The prospect of getting to know real dragons, learning to mindspeak, and perhaps convincing the dragons to help her gain the respect of the children outweighed any petty grievance against her tumanhofer friend.

  Even with the warning, she flinched a little as Airon landed on her shoulder. She didn’t feel the pinprick of tiny claws, only the slight pressure of Airon’s small body. Very cautiously, the purple dragon stretched out her neck and laid her cheek against Ellie’s. The young tumanhofer girl’s heart capitulated.

  She had to turn her head at an awkward angle and pull back in order to look at the dragon on her shoulder. Airon seemed to recognize the problem and moved out to the top of her arm. Now Ellie could look straight into the beautiful dragon’s eyes.

  “How are we going to do this?” she asked.

  Bealomondore rocked back and forth on his feet, a pleased expression taking over his features. “I suggest you sing.”

  Ellie doubted that singing would help her understand when the dragons tried to mindspeak with her. But Bealomondore had suggested it, and she didn’t have any other ideas. He went to pore over the books in the rotunda. She and Airon settled at one of the child-size tables. Airon stood in the middle of the table, while Ellie sat comfortably in one of the four matching chairs. Tak claimed a cushion beside a fish tank containing no fish or water, just colored gravel in the bottom with a small castle and some shells.

  Watching the little purple dragon, Ellie wondered what she thought of this experiment. Airon looked interested in her but hardly took on the role of teacher. Well, if Ellie wanted to know what the purple dragon was thinking, she had better learn how to mindspeak. She started by singing a simple lullaby that she had sung to younger siblings as she rocked them to sleep.

  In the sky, in the sky

  Stars and moon say good night

  Sleep, my baby.

  Day has gone, day has gone

  And sleep says ah, come on,

  Little baby.

  Close your eyes, close your eyes

  And I whisper good night

  Sleep, my baby.

  Morning comes, morning comes

  And you’ll greet the new day,

  Little baby.

  She repeated it several times. Airon joined on the second verse and sang along without words, at least not words Ellie recognized. The purple dragon’s intonations matched perfectly with her own, but the syllables sounded like nothing more than dahs, lahs, mees, and an occasional ray. Tak nodded his head, not quite to the simple beat. He would go to sleep if she sang for any length of time. He always did at home when she sat in the porch rocker and crooned to a baby.

  Ellie started again at the beginning of the song, and when she reached the end of the fourth verse, she continued with more lyrics she didn’t recall ever having heard before.

  Rest all night, rest all night

  Knowing I’ll hold you tight.

  Sleep, my baby.

  Dreams so sweet, dreams so sweet

  Fill your heart and your life,

  Little baby.

  Learn and grow, learn and grow

  Safe with us in our home,

  Sleep, my baby.

  Soon enough, soon enough

  You will follow your road,

  Little baby.

  She frowned as she looked at her singing partner. “Did you know those verses? Because I certainly didn’t.”

  Airon ducked her chin and then raised it to point to the ceiling. She sprang up and did a flip in the air and landed with her feet doing a rat-a-tat-tat on the wooden tabletop. Tak tilted his head and watched her with his yellow eyes.

  Like a whisper in her mind, Ellie heard, “Yes!”

  She jumped to her feet and did her own version of Airon’s celebration dance. The purple dragon flew in circ
les above her head. Together they twirled out of the children’s section and through the many aisles of bookcases to the rotunda. Tak followed but refused to join in their exuberance.

  When the three entered the round hall, Bealomondore stood with a book in his hand. “I heard you coming. I gather you’ve had some success.”

  “I heard her. She told me more words to the song I was singing.” She came to a complete halt and lifted an eyebrow. “How did she do that? Not the mindspeaking, but knowing more words to a song I taught her minutes before.”

  Airon flew to Bealomondore’s shoulder.

  “All minor dragons collect information from the people around them,” he explained. “Singing dragons collect songs, as well as musical history. You might have heard the other verses, and the lyrics were buried in your brain. In that case, she dug the words out. Or she recognized something she had learned somewhere else and mined the information she had stored.”

  Ellie smiled at her purple tutor. “It’s an interesting talent.”

  “That’s only the surface,” Bealomondore said. “She can use her music to soothe anyone. She can mesmerize an assailant. Musical dragons have been known to unify dissenting crowds, bringing them to a common ground. Music, in their capable care, is medicine.”

  “Oh!” Ellie clapped her hands together. “She can help reach the children.”

  Bealomondore looked at the dragon and then at Ellie. “You didn’t hear what she just said?”