Dragons of the Valley - Donita K. Paul [15]
Many kimens clustered around Tipper. One spoke earnestly to Maxon. Bealomondore recognized the speaker as Winkel, the kimen responsible for drugging him.
Maxon nodded and left Tipper in the hands of Winkel and a dozen of her comrades. He approached Bealomondore with an excited expression. “I’ll show you to the guesthouse. We’ll have lunch, and you can try on your new clothes.”
“Are you excited about lunch or my new clothes?”
“Both! You’re going to be delighted. Kimens are wonderful hosts.” He started toward the far side of the crowded clearing.
Bealomondore remained where he stood. When Maxon looked back and frowned, he spoke. “What are they doing with Tipper?”
Maxon looked puzzled. “Taking care of her.”
“What are they going to do exactly?
“They’ll hold a piece of the bogswart bark under her nose until she’s had a good sniff of it. Her color will improve and her breathing will deepen. Then the lady kimens will help her clean up. You know, take a bath, wash her hair, put something pretty on. You know, female things. They’ll feed her, and when she’s ready, she’ll join us. Probably tomorrow.”
“I want to see her sooner than that. I want to see that she’s all right.”
Maxon gazed at him with serious eyes, then nodded. “I’ll arrange it.” He started to turn away but looked back. “Are you coming now?”
“Yes.” Bealomondore considered the activity around his sleeping friend one more time. The kimens carefully, almost reverently, lifted Tipper. Reassured that they would treat her well, he followed Maxon.
A dozen steps beyond the perimeter of the clearing, a solid wall of vines blocked their path. Maxon reached into the foliage, twisted something, and pulled. A door made out of the vegetation opened. Bealomondore’s eyes grew wide as he walked in. Whatever the walls, roof, floor, and furnishings were made of, they glowed so that the inside was brighter than the shaded forest outside.
He moved on to a second room, where a bed and clothing awaited him.
“My friends are bringing water for your bath. I’ll come back and get you for noonmeal. We eat at the commons. I’ll show you. You’re going to like the food.”
“I … I’m overcome, dear Maxon. This is perfect. Beautiful and the right size.” He gestured to the bed and the door frame, including everything. “It’s like a crystal palace.”
Maxon shrugged. “It’s only two rooms.”
“It’s magnificent.” He ran his hand down the wall, marveling at the polished, cool, glowing substance. “What is this made of?”
“Oh, just a little something we whip up for guests. We, the family and friends and all, don’t need all the trimmings. But we know those from beyond require a little pampering.”
“I’m much obliged.” Bealomondore picked up a jacket of material so smooth that he could not make out the weave. “I shall be spoiled and not want to go back to ordinary clothes.”
Maxon chortled. “That is if you remember what you’ve seen when you return to your own towns and cities.”
Bealomondore frowned and examined the little man’s face. “Is there a likelihood that I won’t remember?”
The kimen shrugged. “I wouldn’t know. I’ve never been an outsider who’s visited and then left.”
“You’re saying that your people will take away my memories somehow when it is time for me to go?”
“Only if they don’t trust you. And I think they will find you trustworthy.” He cocked his head. “What’s that noise?”
Bealomondore opened his mouth to say he didn’t hear anything unusual when the sound of a low whistle caught his attention.
A voice rumbled under a sustained whoosh. “To the left, I say.”
Another voice sounded louder. “Land, for all the blinking stars in the heavens. Just land!”
“You’d have us in a pigsty.”
“We aren’t going to a farm.”
“Well then, a prickly bush. You want me to just plop down in thorns, with maybe a smelly bristle bomber in residence, a hive full of buzzerbees, and perhaps a growly ginger bear?”
“My beard’s all twisted inside out. Land!”
Maxon and Bealomondore started to the outer door to see what the commotion might be. As they crossed the first room, a whirlwind formed,