Dragons of the Valley - Donita K. Paul [18]
She looked down at her own gown. She could not stop her fingers from stroking the shining peach folds flowing over her knees. She’d never been particular about her attire, but she longed for a full-length mirror to see if she looked as beautiful as she felt. If the kimens had mirrors that were full length for them, she’d only be able to see the bottom of her skirt.
“We have business to do,” said Fenworth. He began rummaging through his hollows. He pulled out a statue, Evening Yearns. A female figure danced over grass.
Hollee clapped her hands. “That’s a kimen.”
Maxon, Taeda Bel, and Hollee made a circle around the statue and trilled their excitement as they examined the craftsmanship.
“It’s marvelous!” Hollee said as she grabbed the other two kimens in a hug.
“Oh dear, oh dear. I do hope you young people have not mislaid your statues. We must put them together so that Verrin Schope will not get discombobulated. And there is the added problem of how the lack of approximatation and balance of line causes disruption to nature in general.”
“What’s approximatation?” asked Hollee.
Librettowit scowled. “Something he made up, most likely. But he means they need to be close together and properly arranged or trees fall over and the ground sinks into deep holes and other disastrous anomalies occur.”
Tipper and Bealomondore produced Day’s Deed and Morning Glory.
“No room in here,” said Fenworth. “We shall place them in the kimens’ glen.”
“Outside?” asked Bealomondore.
Tipper smiled. “My father’s statues were hidden in Beccaroon’s forest for years. They don’t fall apart under the stress of a little weather.”
The tumanhofer did not look pleased but followed the others out of his dwelling.
The activity of setting up the statues in their precise formation attracted the attention of many villagers. Songs and dance and storytelling invested the impromptu celebration with a merry, festive tone.
Fenworth found a place to sit and cheered the kimens on in their revelry. He even joined in a dance but soon had to rest. He pulled a container of daggarts out of a hollow and shared them. Tipper wondered how long they had been in storage.
With all the commotion, she had almost forgotten the importance of the Trio of Elements. Without her father’s art positioned as a unit, the world and her father crumbled. Her father dissipated and reformed. But the ground, cracked and altered, never came back to its original state. Living things like trees lost their form, and the restructuring contained gross abnormalities.
Bealomondore interrupted her wandering thoughts. “If we are safe here, why move? The company is pleasant, and they seem at ease with our visit.”
Wizard Fenworth cast the young artist a speculative glance. “You are pleased with the paints and brushes our hosts have provided.”
“Of course I am, and they are agreeable to letting me do portraits. It’s the opportunity an artist lives for.” He gestured to the dancing villagers. “This scene needs to be captured on canvas.”
Librettowit wrinkled his brow. “Your art will mean little in a country devastated by war.”
“I don’t believe the enemy can find us. The statues are safe here. We put them in peril by leaving this sanctuary.”
Fenworth stood, dropping leaves and bugs. “I know exactly the course we should take at this time.”
All eyes turned to the oldest and presumably wisest among them. He patted his lean stomach.
“Eat. Solid food. Nourishment. Where’s the kitchen in this establishment?”
The Grawl crouched in the underbrush, sitting on his heels. He could remain in this position for hours. The small creatures called kimens had been a challenge to track, but he knew of no animal that could throw him off its trail. The three kimens never even suspected that he followed. And now he’d discovered their village, each structure obscured from the naked eye but clearly perceptible to his keen senses. Detecting each of their dwellings pleased him immensely.