Dragons of the Watch by Donita K. Paul
“What do civilized people do?” asked Cinder.
She could feel Bealomondore’s sudden shift in attitude. Her tumanhofer hero fought to keep from laughing. Ellie ignored him.
“Civilized people mind their manners,” she answered the boy.
Cinder shook his head in disgust. “I think barbaring would be more fun.”
Old One in the library could probably hear Bealomondore’s guffaw. Ellie closed her eyes and counted.
Bealomondore stood at the door of the furniture emporium. He could feel the impatience of the children behind him, urging him to move. But the situation outside the old building stirred up caution. Det said the renegade children had collected rocks and left them in strategic places along the route to the library. He contemplated waiting until nightfall, but Ellie’s objection registered in his mind.
“Oh, please, Bealomondore. I want Porky settled. The children are hungry. Isn’t there some way we can make it?”
Yes, we can make it, but it won’t be a straight path. Are you ready?
“Yes.”
One minute, and we’ll be out of here.
He mindspoke to the minor dragons. They flew into the air, and he watched as they bombarded the boys bent on mischief, who were crowding the flat roof of a shoe shop across the street. The dragons dived and grasped the boys’ hair, giving a yank before letting go and flying upward. They spat at any child who threw a rock. Their colorful saliva stung, and they rarely missed.
“This way,” Bealomondore said as he gestured toward the alley. “Stay together and don’t dawdle.”
The clatter and bang of the wagon wheels on the rough descent from sidewalk to street alerted the children above. Bealomondore saw them dart away from the edge of the roof.
He guided his entourage down the alley. Det returned to report another corner armed with rock-throwing six-year-old thugs. Bealomondore turned away from the library to avoid the attack. Det took off and soon reported that the marauding urohms were perplexed. They had lost the wagon and its escorts when they didn’t approach the library along any of the obvious routes.
“Good,” said Bealomondore.
“What’s good?” asked Cinder.
“Yawn and his gang don’t know where we are.”
“How do you know what he knows and what he doesn’t?”
“Det told me.”
“The dragon?” Cinder opened his eyes wide and stared at the dragon now riding on the front rim of the cart. “Tiptop parnot snot! I never knew they could talk.” He squinted his eyes and examined Bealomondore’s profile.
“Why are you staring at me?” asked the tumanhofer.
“Do you understand that noise they make? Do you speak that twitty kind of talk?”
“They understand each other with the language they use out loud. I understand what they are thinking, words and pictures. It takes some getting used to, but if you have the gift, you can learn to fashion the information together to make sense.”
Amee flew around the corner, a black and white blur of scales and wings. She passed overhead without stopping.
“What’d it say?” demanded Cinder. “What’d it say?”
“She said to go through the theater. Yawn has no one guarding that area.” Bealomondore approached the street and paused to look over the immediate vicinity. “Det?”
The dragon took off and circled above the intersection. He came back, and Bealomondore signaled for his followers to move forward.
Cinder seemed to be jumping rather than walking. His excitement burst out in small leaps. “He said no one was here, right? He looked and didn’t see anyone, so you knew we could move, right?”
“Right, but you’d better be quiet, or Yawn’s gang will hear you.”
Bealomondore opened one of the front doors of the theater. Cinder held the other while Tak and the children and Ellie entered. They stopped in the lobby and waited until they were all gathered.
Soo-tie squirmed through the knot of people to get to Bealomondore. “I know the way. I play in here a lot. There’s a back door behind the stage.” She pointed. “On that side.”
Bealomondore nodded. He’d explored this building several times during the months before Ellie came. He went to Tak’s head and led the goat and cart through the doors into the theater proper. The rest of the crowd followed.
He saw Ellie start at the sight of the cavernous room. The rows and rows of huge seats looked like markings on a scalloped seashell. Large glass windows allowed light to come in through the slanted roof above. He knew that a catwalk led to the windows, and these could be covered during a performance.
In this light, enough of the great hall could be seen to admire its glamour, but the shadows along the edges caused a trickle of wariness. The children hushed and tiptoed down the slanted, carpeted aisle. They probably imagined spooky creatures, more ominous than their rough playmates.
He looked ahead and grimaced. He’d forgotten that the only way to the back was to either climb the steps on either side of the orchestra pit or to enter narrow doors at each side and climb even more constrictive stairways.
He halted his companions as the floor leveled off at the front row of seats. “I need a couple of boys to come with me to carry wide boards.”
Three jumped to be his helpers.
He nodded at Ellie. “We’ll be right back. There are boards backstage we can use for a ramp.”
She acknowledged his plan with a dip of her head and climbed into a huge theater seat. The other children followed suit. Even before Bealomondore and his three volunteers left, the children had discovered that jumping back and forth between the rows was much more entertaining than sitting.
Bealomondore felt Ellie’s indecision about whether to make them sit quietly or let them play. She relaxed when he mindspoke to her that the children probably could not be heard from outside.
He and the boys found several sturdy boards long enough to make the ramp. Ellie led the nervous goat, speaking softly. Bealomondore pushed from behind, steadying the cart and keeping the wheels from coming between the boards and pushing them apart. He gave a number of boys the job of keeping the boards from shifting, and he had to remind them often to keep their fingers from getting smashed. The other children laughed as Tak clambered up the wooden incline, and they danced up the boards once he was onstage.
Bealomondore and the boys brought the boards with them to get down the steps from the rear entrance to the theater. Maree swooped into the alley and landed on Tak’s back. His bright blue scales caught the beam of light slanting into the broad passageway from above. Tak’s fur glistened. When a beautiful sight caught his eye, Bealomondore’s artist instincts always surfaced. He sighed. He would never again be that fop that barged into Byrdschopen, looking for the great Verrin Schope to be his mentor.
For now, he enjoyed the contrast of the clean colors against the drab background of old bricks while he listened to Maree’s report. The male dragon had been closely observing Yawn’s allies until they began to disappear.
Maree’s last statement made Bealomondore frown. “What do you mean by disappear?”
“What did he say?” asked Cinder.
“That the children go into buildings and don’t come out. Our friends fly into the buildings and can’t find them.”
Cinder shrugged. “They’re using the subter.”
“What’s a subter?”
Cinder rolled his eyes. “It has a longer name, but I don’t know it. Something like ‘subter-ran-he-in.’ We don’t usually go down there because it’s scary.”
Several of the children nodded their heads in agreement.
“More scary than the theater,” said Red Curls. “More dark places. More spooky noises.”
Grim pushed to the front. “And sometimes when you’re down there, you can’t find any doors unlocked so you can get out.” His eyes expressed remembered panic. “That’s the scariest thing of all. That never happens in the theater.”
Confusion pushed Bealomond
He turned to face his followers. “While Yawn’s forces are down in the subter, we shall make progress to the library. Come now. Be brave and quick.”
He headed toward the inner city, taking the shortest route to their safe haven. After several blocks of no interference, the children relaxed and added skips to their hurried pace. They turned the last corner and saw the library at the end of a long stretch of avenue. The large, white, columned building sat at the end of the street they were on, where it teed at a cross street. Everyone quickened their strides.
Bealomondore studied the windows of the stores they passed. Surely there would be one more attempt to stop them. He caught sight of movement out of the corner of his eye, but when he turned his head, he saw nothing suspicious.
With his mind, he called to the dragons of the watch to close in on this area. Almost immediately, Kriss reported children on the only flat roof available to the ambushers. Airon reported evidence of a trap a block away.
“Hurry!” Bealomondore commanded.
He and his troops trotted.
Det sounded an alarm from above.
Bealomondore shouted, “Run!”
A barrage of rocks showered them from the flat roof. A swarm of children poured out from the alleys. Yawn’s thugs had wooden shipping crates over their heads. The wide slats in the sides allowed them to see.
The flying dragons could no longer pull hair nor spit in the faces of the army of six-year-olds. He hated to admit it, but the leader of the horde was quite clever.
Bealomondore separated himself from his band, his sword already in his hand. “Run!” he called again.
Bealomondore stayed behind, swinging his weapon with the determination to protect Ellie, her goat, and her children.
Ellie’s head whipped back and forth as she tried to keep an eye on what was happening to Bealomondore behind her and the children in front of her. Whimpering, the children dashed for the safety of the library. Some cried out as they were hit by the stones hurled from above.
Ellie held tight to the side of the cart. One rough spot in the pavement and the wagon would tilt. Too much of an upset would send it over. She knew she couldn’t hold it up, of course, but she’d try. As soon as she had the children, Tak, and the cart carrying Porky hidden at the back of the library, she’d return to Bealomondore and try to help.
A rock caught Tak on the hindquarters. He jerked and sprang forward. Ellie saw the cart tip away from her. The wheels on her side left the pavement. She lunged to hang her body on the edge and grabbed hold of Porky as he rolled toward the lower side. Her weight pulled the wagon back and the wooden rim jarred against her stomach as two wheels bounced on the street.
Ellie jumped, landing on her feet. She ran beside the cart with her hand on the rough side, aware that any minute the wagon could tip again and Porky might topple out.
Glancing over her shoulder, she saw Bealomondore surrounded by the gang of boys. The minor dragons flying above looked totally helpless to deter Yawn’s forces. She stumbled and used the cart to keep from falling.
The pitch of child-shrill hysteria rose. The children racing in front of her now screamed and howled as they ran. Their outcry changed to even higher shrieks. Ellie focused on the library ahead and saw red-faced and snarly Old One standing at the top of the deep steps between two tall white columns.
“Oh,” was all she managed to get out before he came charging down the steps, a huge unfurled umbrella in his hands.
The fleeing children screeched, and their swarm split in the middle, some veering off to the left and the others zooming to the right.
“Go to the back of the library!” she yelled. The rescue plan was turning topsy-turvy. The scattering children escaped in two directions, getting away from her. Would she be able to herd them back together? Gasping for breath, Ellie charged on.
Old One hurtled down the library steps, coming directly at her with his umbrella raised. Tak bleated a complaint, the attacking children behind her whooped and hollered like wild heathens, the children fleeing in front of her yowled like injured pups, and the dragons made noises she couldn’t identify. Were those shrill wails a war cry?
As Old One approached, she heard his deep, ominous growl. She flinched and desperately looked around for a way to retreat. Ignoring her, he passed on the opposite side of the cart.
Ellie let go of Porky’s wagon and slowed enough to be able to safely look back. Old One charged into the melee that centered on Bealomondore. With his umbrella closed now, he bopped the children around their middles, hitting sides, stomachs, rumps, and arms. When close enough, he yanked the wooden helmets off their heads. He threw the boxes away.
Most of these young warriors froze when exposed. Old One took advantage of their fright, leaned over, and growled in their faces.
Ellie smiled, glad that ferocious Old One had no more intention of hurting these wayward children with his umbrella than Bealomondore did with the flat of his sword. She let a giggle escape as she watched two terrorized hoodlums take off for the alleys. Amee and Maree chased them for good measure, then returned to find another victim whose armor had been jerked off by Old One.
Confident that Bealomondore was no longer in danger, Ellie followed the trail Tak had taken to the back of the library. She found her rescued children gathered around the wagon. Porky sat, staring at his surroundings.
“He woke up,” Soo-tie announced.
Cinder snorted. “She can see that.”
Soo-tie delivered a slug to his arm. Cinder raised a fist.
Ellie pushed through the pack of overexcited youngsters, trying to reach the combatants before a free-for-all broke out. “Stop that!”
The children stared at her. Exasperation welled up in her chest. Didn’t these monsters have any idea of civility?
She leaned into the wagon and put her arms around Porky. “You’re going to be all right. We’re safe here.”
Eying the mob around her, she took a calming breath, but still her tone sounded harsh in her ears. “You’re not supposed to fight all the time.”
“What are we supposed to do?” asked Soo-tie.
“Speak kindly, encourage each other with words, help one another, and do things that make your life better, not worse.” She sighed, remembering all the times she’d heard Gramps utter similar words. She pulled out of her memory the edict most often quoted. “Construct, do not destruct.”
“I’m hungry,” whined one of the children.
A murmur of similar complaints rose from the gang surrounding her. Obviously her lecture had not registered.
“Help me get Tak into the park and Porky into the library. Then I’ll see what I can find for a snack.” She released Porky from her hug, giving him a kiss on the cheek as she did so.
A scuffle erupted over unhitching the goat.
“Stop!” Ellie shouted.
Their movement ceased abruptly, but Ellie sensed the squabble would explode again if she didn’t think of some incentive to thwart them.
“There will be no food for anyone who hits, pinches, or pushes.” She looked at their confused faces. “Or anything else mean and hateful.”
They waited. What did she expect them to do? She’d have to teach them how to cooperate. Otherwise, they’d stand there and glare at her until sundown.
“Cinder and Grim, unstrap Tak. Toady, open the gate and let him in, then close the gate behind him. Soo-tie, you and some of the girls help Porky walk to that opening over there. That’s where we’ll go into the library.”
She placed a hand on Porky’s shoulder. “Do you think you can walk with their help?”
His eyes were big in his pale face. “Into the library? We’re going into the library?” His lower lip trembled, matching the
“It’s all right. Old One is a friend of mine. He likes Bealomondore and me.” Ellie thought that might be a bit of a stretch, but Old One had shown up to help battle against the militant troops under Yawn’s control. “We’ll be safe inside the library. Yawn and his gang won’t come in.”
Det, Airon, and Maree swooped out of the sky and landed on the cart. The children emitted squeals of pleasure. One lurched to grab Airon. She hissed and flew up, avoiding capture.
“Don’t touch the dragons,” Ellie ordered.
She heard running feet, and Bealomondore appeared from around the corner of the stately white building. The rest of the dragons arrived and took perches in the trees.
Bealomondore panted. “Well, that’s taken care of.” He leaned over, his hands on his knees. “We made it, thanks to the unexpected help from Old One.” He stood and grinned at the crowd around him. “The old man swings a wicked umbrella.”
Reminded of their nemesis, the pack of nervous children seemed to shrink as they scooted into a closer knot. Bealomondore ignored their apprehension and moved to help the girls maneuver Porky out of the back of the wagon.
Ellie made sure Tak entered the park, looking him over for injuries from the hurled rocks. She checked to see that he had water before following Bealomondore and the young refugees through the vent opening.
The children remained subdued as they entered the library. She even saw several holding hands, which both surprised and pleased her. They weren’t as callous toward each other as they would have her think.
Ellie clambered in after the last child, Red Curls. She had to shove a bit to get in. They had all stopped just inside the opening.
“Excuse me. Move a little, please. Excuse me.”
She got her feet under her and stood. “What’s going on?”
Red Curls leaned close and whispered in her ear. “I gotta go.”
That didn’t explain why the group had stalled just inside the library. She took Red Curls’s hand and plowed through the bodies wedged in the small space in front of her.