Dragons of the Watch by Donita K. Paul
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?”
“Not here,” answered Cinder with a smug grin. “But we’re going to go live in the library, and there’s lots of food there.”
Ellie’s eyes widened as she looked at the boy who minutes before had not wanted anything to do with the library and Old One.
The child in the door narrowed his eyes to glare at Cinder. “Nah! That ain’t true. You wouldn’t go in there.”
The other child spoke up. “I would. If’n there’s food, I’d go.”
Ellie decided from their voices that the first was a boy and the second a girl.
“You’re hungry.” Ellie reached in her basket and pulled out two daggarts.
The children moved quickly and sat beside her, licking their lips, eyes glued on her hands. She held out the daggarts, and the two children snatched them. Each one crammed the crunchy treat into a mouth drooling with anticipation.
Ellie did her best not to look affronted by such bad manners. “What’s your name?” she asked the boy.
“Grim.” His answer sprayed her with crumbs. He still chewed. “You got more?”
“More daggarts?”
He nodded vigorously.
Ellie laughed. “Yes, one more for each of you. When Bealomondore gets here, we’ll go to the library. We always have full meals there.” She frowned. “I thought you were provided with plenty to eat as long as you obey the curfew and go to bed when the sun goes down.”
Toady wiped the back of her hand across her mouth. “There is plenty, but sometimes Yawn has a big hunger and takes food from the smaller children.” Her face twisted in disgust. “Today he took my food right out of my hand. Two of his boys held Grim, and Grim got one right in the face.”
“Got one?”
Grim made a fist and slammed it into the flat of his other hand.
Horrified, Ellie noticed a slight bruise on the boy’s cheek. She’d thought it was a smudge of dirt. No words came to her mind. What could she say about such bullying? Worse, what could she do? Nothing. The children needed manners, instruction, and uncompromising adult guidance.
Ellie held out the daggarts. Then she snatched them back as the two ruffians lurched for them.
She would start with the children she had within her reach. “I am going to give you these. There’s no reason for you to grab them.” She looked the children in the eye. “Reach for them slowly, take them politely, and say thank you before you put them in your mouths.”
Grim rolled his eyes, but he took the daggart gently, said thank you, then looked at her with questioning eyes. She nodded. He crammed it in his mouth. Toady giggled.
Cinder let go of Porky, pushed past him, and inserted his own grubby body between Ellie and Grim. “Don’t give ’em all to him. He’s probably a snitch. Gonna tell Yawn where we are so’s Yawn’ll leave him alone for a while.”
Toady turned big eyes to her companion, then squinted as she looked mean at Cinder. “How’s he gonna snitch if he’s sitting here?”
“When he leaves.”
Around the cake, Grim declared, “I ain’t leaving.”
Cinder shouldered Grim hard enough to knock him over.
“Enough,” said Ellie sternly. “We will all go to the library as soon as Bealomondore and Tak get back with the wagon.”
“You’ve got a wagon?” asked Grim.
“Yes.”
“What are we going to use the wagon for?” asked Toady.
Cinder gestured with his thumb, indicating Porky. “Him.”
“Ain’t he dead yet?” asked Grim.
“Nope.” Cinder grinned, enjoying being the one who could tell what happened. “The little dragons saved him, brought him back from the darkworld, healed him almost properly, ’cept he hasn’t woke up yet. He could still be addled. Don’t know that yet.”
Grim sniffed and pointed with his chin to the minor dragons. “Them’s ain’t stuffed?”
Soosahn hissed from her lookout post on a stack of furniture.
Grim scrunched his head between his shoulders and looked up, spotting the minor dragon for the first time. “They’re all over the place.” He came out of his defensive posture and put on an arrogant grin. “Just birds.”
Toady glowered. “How can you be so dumb? Do you see feathers? You don’t see feathers, do you? No feathers, not a bird. I believe Cinder. These are dragons. And they’ll eat your innards when you go to sleep if you don’t treat ’em right whiles you’re awake.”
“Hush now,” said Ellie. “Someone’s coming.”
“Tak and the wagon?” asked Soo-tie.
Soosahn made a series of chittering noises.
Ellie motioned for the children to scatter. “Soosahn says hide. You’d better do as she says.”
The children dodged behind the boxes and big furniture. Ellie moved to sit beside the one child who could not move. Determined to protect Porky from whoever entered the building, she took a loose chair leg and tucked it under the edge of her skirt.
Yawn stepped between two towers of chairs. Ellie sighed at the sight of his tough expression. She reminded herself that he was a little boy, just like her brothers. But he was a little boy who had bullied his way to the top of the heap of uncivilized monsters. He needed someone bigger, stronger, kinder,
The daggart ploy was worth a try anyway.
“Did you come for a daggart?” she asked.
He snorted.
She examined his dirty face, hoping to see a glimmer of innocence. The boy looked hard, unforgiving, and unreachable. She wouldn’t give up quite yet. “You’re alone?”
He sneered. “I’ve got lookouts scattered about. Your man with the sword won’t be coming to rescue you.”
“Why would I need rescuing?”
Yawn clenched his fists and took a step forward.
“I could beat you up. I could smear you across this floor. I could—”
Ellie suppressed the fear that shivered her spine and smiled. “But you won’t.” The words came out sounding more positive than she felt. All the years of bluffing her brothers paid off.
Yawn stopped. His mouth worked as if he thought of several things to say but rejected each utterance. Finally, he held his fists up in front of him. “What makes you think I won’t?”
“Well, you do know that hitting a girl is a sissy thing to do, don’t you? Everyone knows that. Only stupid boys hit girls. It’s a well-known fact. I’m sure you wouldn’t actually hit me because you don’t want your gang talking about you behind your back.”
Pausing, she was gratified to see he puzzled over her statements. “So if you’re too dumb to get what you want with words and have to use your fists”—she raised her eyebrows—“that tells everyone you aren’t a good leader. And if you pick on girls, that shows you’re afraid of a real fight with a real opponent, someone the same size and someone who has as many muscles as you do. And you know what they’ll be saying about that.”
Yawn cast a sweeping glance around the showroom. Ellie did too. All the children had either fled or found a good hiding spot. Yawn must have been satisfied that they were alone.
He growled at Ellie. “What? What will they be saying?”
“The muscle thing,” said Ellie. She stroked Porky’s brow and was glad that his bruises had faded and he breathed easily. He looked very relaxed. She wished she could relax. She hoped Yawn would relax.
Yawn glared at her and shouted, “What’s the muscle thing?”
She was going to make him very angry or very flummoxed. She was hoping for the latter. “Oh, they say how big your muscles are—the ones in your legs, the ones in your arms, and the one in your head. The one in your head leaves no room for the brain, so you become a muscle head, who is, of course, without a brain and therefore stupid.”
“I’m not stupid.”
“Well, I didn’t say you were. I said that everyone knows that boys who hit girls aren’t brave and aren’t smart, and that’s why I know you won’t hit me. I believe you’re brave and smart.”
His fists clenched and unclenched. He sputtered under his breath, and she suspected his muttered rant was not a nursery rhyme. His eyes darted here and there, looking for something.
Ellie speculated. Witnesses?
The boy spun around and made for the exit. He bumped into Bealomondore as he passed through a narrow opening. The bulk of the urohm child knocked the tumanhofer backward. Ellie rose to her knees with the table leg clutched in her hand. But the bully charged on, and Bealomondore righted himself.
He came into the area where Ellie knelt beside Porky and, with one arm around her, pulled her to her feet. His hand on the make-do club worked to get the weapon away from her. She finally let go, and he dropped the wooden leg to the floor. She ducked her head under his chin, felt the warmth of his protective embrace, and heard his gentle whisper, “It’s all right now. I’m here. We have the wagon. We’re going back to the library.”
She hiccupped as she suppressed a cry. “I was so afraid I’d hit him. I didn’t want to hit him.”
“Of course not, but it would be nice to have a parent around for these children. Most of them could stand a well-administered spanking.” He hugged her tighter and kissed the top of her head.
A chorus of giggles surrounded them.
A chuckle rumbled in Bealomondore’s chest. “We have an audience. Say, are there more children here than when I left?”
Ellie nodded. “Yes, two more arrived while you were gone.”
“Two?” Bealomondore harrumphed. “I’m going to have to teach you to count.”
She lifted her head and gasped. A quick head count revealed that the group had grown to more than a dozen children.
“Are all of you hungry?” she asked.
Without exception, they nodded.
Cinder put a hand on her arm. “Don’t listen to them. They’re always hungry. Most of them came here from the circle, so they’ve eaten.”
A curly-topped redhead jumped twice to position herself opposite Cinder. “We could eat again.” Her hopeful eyes traveled from Ellie’s face to Bealomondore’s and back again. “We could be your children, and you could fix us supper.”
Ellie let go of Bealomondore to put her hand on the child’s shoulder, but the little girl grabbed her arm and hugged it. Ellie looked around for Soo-tie, who was always admonishing her not to cry. She wasn’t in sight. But still, Ellie sniffed, blinked back the tears, and offered the big angel a reassuring smile. “We’ll take care of you.”
Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Bealomondore grimace, but he didn’t say anything about her offer. Still, his reservations transferred to her awareness through their bond.
He released her and bent over to examine Porky. “Well, he looks better. I think we can safely transport him to the library.”
“We’re coming too,” Red Curls announced. She looked around at the other children, and as if on signal, they all bobbed their heads up and down. She grinned at Bealomondore. “You’ll protect us from Yawn.”
Another child dared to step forward. “And you’ll protect us from Old One.”
Bealomondore rolled his eyes. “As I’ve said before, Old One is—”
“Not murderous,” said Cinder.
“Just grouchy,” added Soo-tie.
Ellie beamed at Bealomondore. “We’ve convinced two of them. That’s a start.”
Bealomondore clapped his hands together and looked over these huge six-year-olds. “I think we have enough muscle power here to do some good.” He pointed at some boys. “We need to clear a path wide enough for Tak to bring the wagon in and a large enough space for him to turn around once he’s in here. You boys push furniture back on the route to the door.” He pointed to more children as he spoke. “You girls clean up this area right around Porky. Boys, dismantle that tower of chairs and get them out of here.”
The children obeyed immediately.
“He’s the boss,” said one boy to another.
“Yeah,” the second boy answered. “A real boss, not like Yawn.”
Ellie settled beside Porky instead of helping. She felt she needed to protect him from small objects being thrown and toppling furniture. She ducked twice and once caught a fancy carved box before it landed on Porky’s head.
The shifting of furniture caused a lot of noise, from the heavy pieces scraping across the wooden floor and from the loud voices of the enthusiastic children. The minor dragons flew about chirping and chittering as if giving orders and offering suggestions. In spite of the urgency of the situation, giggles and laughter accompanied Bealomondore’s orders.
Ellie smiled. This is what children should sound like. This was a worthwhile project. And look at how many children had joined them. Perhaps her plans would work in spite of Bealomondore’s grim predictions.
Grim! Who would name a child Grim? She shook her head.
This was a most peculiar circumstance she’d found herself in. Parts of it were delightful, and most of the time she forgot she was missing the coronation. And the wedding. She sighed.
“Maa!” Tak greeted her as he pulled the wagon into the widened space.
The children surrounded Tak, pushing and shoving to be the one to unbuckle the harnesses.
Tak stamped his feet. “Maa! Maa! Maa!”
“Here now,” Bealomondore’s raised voice brought sudden order to the chaos. He pointed to two boys. “You and you take off the harness.” He pointed to two girls. “You go to Tak’s head and talk soothingly to him. Tell him you’re sorry for scaring him and that everything is going to be all right.”
The rest of the children pouted.
“Don’t worry, you’ll all have to help turn the wagon, and there will be more opportunities to help from now on. You’re no longer a bunch of scalawags. Miss Ellie has decided you are family. And each member of a family does important jobs.”
The about-face of the cart came off without any big problems. Tak was rehitched with the help of two different boys, then many hands made light work of hefting Porky into the bed of the wagon. They trooped to the back door. The children skipped and darted in and out of the stacks of furniture on either side of the path. The dragons flew above them, swooping and doing aerobatics. The children giggled and squealed their appreciation of the show. Ellie walked beside the cart with a hand on Porky.
Bealomondore led the way but made them all wait while he consulted with Det.
“This is going to be a perilous journey,” he announced soberly.
The children’s eyes grew big.
Ellie knew what he was going to say, and it made her mad enough to spit. Yawn couldn’t just leave them alone.
“Yawn has set up ambushes along the way,” Bealomondore said in a deep and serious tone. “We can avoid them with Det’s help.”
“Let’s ambush the ambushes,” said Cinder, with no fear but a lot of excitement.
A chorus of enthusiastic agreement came from the cluster of children.
Ellie saw and felt Bealomondore’s waning patience. His face clouded, and the irritation that passed to her signaled a possible explosion. She decided to intervene.
“We will avoid them as much as possible,” said Ellie. “It is not our intention to match their ferocity. We will behave as civilized people. They can be barbarians if they choose.”