Dragons of the Valley - Donita K. Paul [19]
He watched the merriment with disdain. The villagers celebrated the statues with much fervor. Obviously their worth included something more than just artistry. He didn’t know exactly what, but it would be something he’d investigate.
He frowned. He did not know if he could stomach reporting his find to First Speatus Kulson. The bisonbecks he traveled with were the best of Odidoddex’s army—yet still inferior. They needed too much food, water, and sleep. To follow the orders of the fool who led the other fools made The Grawl’s leathered skin crawl.
This venture had been of his own doing. The small creatures spying on the camp had intrigued him, and he’d tracked them for the fun of it. Why should he reveal his findings? Perhaps the information would be worth an extra payment if he waited until the right moment.
A mouse scurried through the tall grass. It paused, stood on its hind legs, nose quivering. Did it sense him sitting so still? With uncanny swiftness, The Grawl snatched the small animal. He tossed the mouse, whole and living, into his mouth and crunched down on fur and bones. Warm blood squirted over his tongue. He chewed a moment and swallowed.
Rising without a sound from his hiding place, The Grawl headed back to the camp. He’d get there soon enough, but it would be a while before he spoke of wizards, artists, and valuable statues.
7
Hollee’s Joy
Hollee did a somersault in the air as she followed Wizard Fenworth. Finally they were going to do something. The week since the arrival of the four outsiders had been interesting but not exciting. One tumanhofer drew, the other wrote, the wizard slept, and the beautiful emerlindian investigated every aspect of the village. Hollee enjoyed going with Taeda Bel as she explained how things were done in the kimen village, but now that her wizard was awake and muttering, things would happen. She just knew it.
The other kimens joked about Hollee’s attachment to the scatterbrained old man, but she thought the possibilities for fun and adventure abounded within his quirks and foibles. Taeda Bel enjoyed the emerlindian Tipper. Their personalities matched. Maxon would probably be stuck in the village, watching the painter paint. How boring. Fenworth would surprise her, and Hollee couldn’t wait to see what he did next.
They crossed the village clearing and entered the woods, coming to the door of Bealomondore’s specially designed quarters.
“Confound it!” said the wizard. “How do you knock on this thing? I don’t suppose there is anything as practical as a doorbell.”
Hollee stepped forward to help, but before she could rattle the branches, the door swung open to reveal the tumanhofer artist with a smock over his elaborate clothing and a paintbrush in his hand.
“I heard you,” he said. “Come in, come in. I’ll show you my latest drawings, all mere sketches but magnificent, and the painting I started this morning.”
“Hurray! I want to see,” said Hollee. She entered the bower abode, dancing forward on her toes.
“You work rapidly,” Fenworth observed as he walked into the well-lit room Bealomondore had fitted out as his studio.
Hollee skipped around the room, examining the pictures and recognizing her friends. The wizard followed at a more sedate pace. With his hands clasped behind his back, he mumbled as he moved from sketch to sketch. Bealomondore kept in step with him, leaning close as if to catch a word or two from the wizard’s incoherent muttering.
“You are wringing my nerves, sir.” He hurried to block the man’s progress to the next picture. “Are those positive or negative comments, Wizard Fenworth?”
The wizard turned abruptly and frowned down at the tumanhofer. “Eh? What? Tut, tut, man. Don’t be in such a twitter.”
“Do you like them, sir?”
“Like kimens? Of course I do. What’s not to like about a quick, cheery, clever kimen?”
A grin spread over Hollee’s face. She loved the wizard’s way of saying things.
Bealomondore sucked in a long breath and let it out slowly. “The drawings of the kimens. Do you like