Dragons of the Watch (23 page)

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Authors: Donita K. Paul

BOOK: Dragons of the Watch
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She glanced back down at the handwritten pages. Why would she want to read a diary about things in the past when Old One sat right there in his chair? Why wouldn’t he answer questions? Bealomondore had gone to get breakfast, and she was left to pry some information out of the reticent old gent. Only the old gent wouldn’t cooperate. He wouldn’t answer even the simplest of questions.

She looked up and caught him looking at her out of the corner of his eye.

“Are you ready to tell me your name?” she asked.

He humphed. “I told you yesterday.”

“You did not.”

He humphed again and turned a page in his book. “Why should I tell you my name when you haven’t had the courtesy to tell me yours?”

Ellie closed the diary and plopped it down on the cushion in her
lap. “We told you our names when you first spoke to us from the balcony. And we told you again yesterday after tea.”

“I’ve never spoken to you from the balcony. Never spoke to you at all until you invited me to tea.”

She sighed. Old One was much more stubborn than she was. This conversation had gone a couple of rounds already, and they hadn’t had anything but tea yet this morning.

“My name is Ellicinderpart Clarenbessipawl. My friend’s name is Graddapotmorphit Bealomondore. And your name is?”

“What use is a name when no one is around to use it?”

“Bealomondore and I are here to use it.”

“You probably won’t stay. I wouldn’t stay if a way out presented itself.” He lifted his head. “Someone is coming.”

He looked disoriented, perhaps a bit scared. Orli stood and watched, apparently ready to spring into action. Ellie’s irritation dropped away. “It’s Bealomondore. He went to get our breakfast.”

“Breakfast is served upstairs. Always is.”

“So you’ve already eaten?”

He narrowed his eyes at her as if she had asked a trick question. Bealomondore came into the room with a large basket, the curved handle over his arm. “Lots of food this morning. I assume we are sharing with our host.”

“Me?” Old One closed his book. “I’m not your host.”

“Why not?” asked Bealomondore as he put his load down by the table and opened the lid.

“Because in order to be a host, one must have invited guests.” He looked pointedly at them. “I don’t recall inviting anyone.”

Bealomondore had his back to Old One and took advantage of his face being out of sight. He pulled an exaggerated grumpy expression
that caused Ellie to stifle a laugh. To hide her merriment, she put the pillow and diary aside, scooted to the edge of the seat, and dropped to the floor.

“What do we have this morning?” she asked.

“Muffins and oatmeal,” Bealomondore said as he handed the first muffin to Ellie. “Fruit and hard-boiled eggs.”

“Old One says his breakfast is served upstairs. So he’s already eaten.”

“I didn’t say that.” He sounded gruff.

She turned to look at him. He always seemed so angry. She thought about their earlier exchange.

“You’re right. You didn’t say you already ate breakfast.”

The old urohm looked relieved, but like many of his expressions, the attitude passed so quickly that she wasn’t sure she’d seen it. His scowl decorated his face almost constantly. Of that she was sure.

“I know I didn’t eat because my stomach says it isn’t so.” He reached past them and began lifting things to the tabletop.

Her eyes caught Bealomondore’s, and again the feeling that he had thought the same thing she did fluttered in her mind. Since that first time when he had heard her thinking about talking to Tak, the feeling had repeated itself. Now he puzzled over why Old One phrased that last statement as he did. And she puzzled right along with Bealomondore. Didn’t the urohm know whether or not he had eaten? Did he need proof of an empty stomach to decide the answer?

Bealomondore shrugged and offered to give her a boost up. With his help, she climbed the wooden chair. He came after her, and they each sat on a book to lift themselves high enough to reach their breakfast comfortably.

Bealomondore commented on the walk he and Tak had taken that
morning. He’d seen a few birds closer to the center fountain but not actually in the circle.

“I’ve rarely seen the birds land there,” he said, speaking directly to Old One. “Why is that?”

Orli turned his head, ears alert and seemingly interested in the conversation.

Old One bit into a parnot. “At least I still have all my teeth. Things don’t wear out. Shoes, clothes, beds, books, furniture, drapes, and rugs never get old or too shabby to keep. There’s always food, three times a day, unless those urchins don’t go to bed when it’s dark. Then there’s nothing the next day. Sometimes all day. Only thing that makes them follow a rule.”

Ellie and Bealomondore exchanged mystified glances. Was Old One deliberately avoiding the question, or was the gentleman confused?

Bealomondore’s gaze went back to the urohm. “Did you make that rule, sir? About going to bed?”

“No, I don’t make the rules around here. I don’t even try to follow them. Can’t remember half of them.”

He snapped his mouth shut on the last word.

Orli came to perch on Old One’s shoulder, snuggling close to his chin as if to comfort the old man.

Ellie smiled at Bealomondore. “I’d like to take a walk this morning.”

“Right.”

He was in tune with her. He knew she needed a talk more than a walk. This bond came in handy.

Bealomondore nodded. “Perhaps Old One could tell us about that place to bake daggarts. We could check it out for ingredients and equipment.”

“No need to go on a walk for that,” said Old One. “It’s upstairs, in the living quarters for the custodian.”

Ellie raised her eyebrows. “Are you the library’s custodian?”

“Guardian,” he said. “Not the custodian.”

“So you live in the guardian’s quarters.”

“Said I did, didn’t I?”

Ellie looked at Bealomondore, and the same thought blended in her mind with his.
No, I don’t believe you did
.

Bealomondore walked beside Ellie as they followed Tak along the pathways through the library park. The foliage still grew wild, but the goat had done a lot of nibbling and seemed to choose plants that needed cutting back. In a few more weeks, he’d have the area looking decent.

Bealomondore tucked Ellie’s hand into the crook of his arm. “I don’t think Old One is being obstinate. I think he’s curt and not forthcoming because he doesn’t know the answers.”

“Senile?” Her tone sounded worried, filled with compassion for the man who growled in all his communications.

“I don’t think so. I think it’s part of the spell of the bottle city.”

“I’m getting mighty tired of this spell.”

“I sympathize.”

“What did you try in attempts to get out?”

“Everything I could think of. What did you do?”

“Not much, really. I confess I was so disconcerted and frightened that I didn’t have orderly thoughts. I came through the glass wall, but when I turned around, there was no glass wall. From the other side, I
could see the pastures and road, but from this side, I couldn’t see the trail I had just been on. The ridge, the fog, the scrubby bushes were gone. I took a few steps in the direction I had come from, expecting to walk through the wall again. I didn’t, so I followed the road farther in. When I saw the city, I knew I might find help here.”

“And you did, but I don’t know if this help can get you out of here. I’ve failed in every attempt.”

“What did you do?”

“The first thing I did was the same as you. I tried to retrace my steps and walk out of the bottle in the same spot I’d walked in.”

“And that didn’t work.”

“Obviously. So I came to the city. I explored and discovered that the natives are not friendly. And no one offered me suggestions for getting out. So I headed out of town in the other direction. I walked for several days. In case you are wondering, food is not provided for those who are trying to escape.”

“I ate berries.” She blushed at the memory.

“Ah yes, the adorable purple beard that decorated your chin.”

“Adorable?” She tried to pull away from him, but he held firm to the hand at his elbow. She relaxed and asked a question more to the point. “So you traveled in one direction a great distance. What did you find?”

“Rumbard City.”

“Really? You got turned around.”

“Yes, really. And no, I didn’t get turned around.” He frowned. “I experimented two more times. You can walk as far as you like away from the city, but eventually you find yourself approaching the city, but from the other side.”

“Frustrating.”

“Yes, frustrating.”

“Adorable?”

“Right now you have a teasing twinkle in your bright blue eyes and a dimple quivering at the corner of your smile. I say, ‘Yes, adorable.’ Everything about you has struck me with adjectives I don’t usually use.”

She lifted her chin a bit and looked at him askance.

“It is true, dear lady. You might as well know it. If we were in the outside world and I made your acquaintance, I believe I would soon be asking your father for permission to court you.”

Now she really did turn red, and Bealomondore felt a pang of conscience. Outside of the bottle, the likelihood of their meeting was next to nothing. And outside the bottle, his self-absorbed interest in all things Bealomondore, his lack of direction, and his thwarted love would have made it impossible to acquaint himself with Ellie’s charms.

On the other hand, if he had met her, and if he had been forced by some odd circumstances to remain in her company for an extended period of time, he probably would have noticed how comely she was.

She was quiet, and suddenly the quiet seemed too pronounced. Had that bond that had developed between them just given away all his thoughts?

He stopped and gently pulled her around to face him. She looked down. He tilted her chin up with one hand. Her eyes held tears. The sight tore through his heart like a knife through canvas. He didn’t deserve such a sweet woman. He wrapped his arms around her and lowered his face. He kissed her on one cheek and then the other. He leaned back, fully intending not to carry his desire into action. A tiny tear rested at the corner of one of her closed eyes.

“Oh, Ellie, I never intended to make you cry.”

He leaned in again and placed one tender kiss on her lips. She trembled. His arms tightened. Her lips moved under his. He was lost.

“Ellie, are you awake?” Bealomondore called from several aisles away. Ever since he’d kissed her in the library park, he’d been trying to keep a certain distance. He’d had to explain that society didn’t approve of a bachelor getting too familiar with a young lady when there was no chaperone. He didn’t go into the necessity for them to wed. One step at a time.

“I’m awake.”

“You’ve slept late. Breakfast is here, courtesy of Old One.”

He heard her sit up, or was that the bond? Could he possibly know that she sat up and ran her fingers through her tangled locks?

“Old One brought us breakfast?”

“Yes. Come to the rotunda when you’re ready. I’ll try to keep him from eating it all.”

A few minutes later she arrived in one of her outlandish outfits. He really needed to go look for more of her belongings. She smiled shyly at him, and he guarded his thoughts. He didn’t need her to misconstrue his opinion. Ellie wore odd combinations, but she managed to look comfortable, not self-conscious. He admired that trait immensely as he recalled the display of despair exhibited by society ladies when something minor jeopardized their elegant getup.

Old One sat in his chair, a plate in his lap and a tankard in one hand. He raised the tankard, toasting the new arrival. “Here’s to the
lady who bakes. We eat whatever she makes. Her daggarts are scrumptious, without any lumps such … as would chase her lovers away.”

Ellie’s eyes grew big, and a smile quivered at the edge of her mouth, as if she didn’t quite know how to react to this type of poetry.

She contained her lips in a prim line and answered. “I’m hoping to lure some children into our care. And I’ve never had lovers who objected to my cooking.”

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