Dragons of the Valley - Donita K. Paul [2]
“Looking is all right.” Bealomondore smoothed the material of his sleeves and stepped into the hushed hall. “Taking is not.”
His footsteps tapped on the marble floor as they approached the carpet centered in the hall.
“Shh!” said Maxon, who didn’t make a sound as he glided toward the display of the revered sculptor Verrin Schope’s famous Trio of Elements.
The three statues had been carved out of one stone, the brilliance of the artist depicted in the layered symbolism. The most obvious interpretation would be of morning, day, and night. But the trio also represented air, earth, and water. Kimen, emerlindian, and marione figures depicted three of the fourteen races that populated the world.
Recently brought to the attention of the royal court, the statues had not yet been expounded upon by critics. Bealomondore felt more symbolism would be exposed with time. Master sculptor Verrin Schope layered his work with meaning. With uncanny skill, he could almost coax life into the cold stone.
The craftsmanship alone made the art valuable. The depth of the imagery would place the art among the most famous classics. Bealomondore’s pride in being under Verrin Schope’s tutelage puffed out his chest. And he, a humble but aspiring artist, was privy to the backstory of these magnificent pieces. The history and intrigue surrounding the importance of the original stone … That would become the material of legends.
And perhaps humble Graddapotmorphit Bealomondore of Greeston in Dornum would be mentioned for his part in the fantastic quest. He patted his chest, a smile tugging at his lips.
As he and Maxon passed a pillar, the entire display came into sight. Bealomondore stopped and gasped at the vacant spot in the circle of three statues.
“One’s already gone,” whispered Maxon. “See? I told you we had to act quickly.”
Bealomondore whipped his head around, searching the shadows, hoping to spy some thief tiptoeing out of the hall.
Nothing stirred.
“Take it,” urged Maxon. “Take Day’s Deed before the thief comes back for it.”
“I don’t understand your reasoning. I don’t understand why I’m supposed to believe your Wulder would urge me to steal.”
The kimen vibrated. His already shrill voice screeched up a notch. “Not stealing! Protecting! We can’t let a wicked force get hold of all three statues. You don’t want to be responsible for the evil consequences, do you?”
That caught his attention. The Trio of Elements had been rescued from the hands of a nefarious wizard. If someone plotted to steal all three, then having one in Bealomondore’s possession would thwart the evildoer’s plans.
“Why do we have to leave the city?”
“Because,” answered Maxon, prodding Bealomondore closer to the two figures in stone, “we don’t know who the perpetrator is, and getting as far away as possible is critical.” Maxon turned away from Bealomondore, braced his back against the tumanhofer’s leg, and pushed. “And if the thief is here in the palace, we won’t be able to keep him from stealing another piece of the Trio.”
“Fine!” Bealomondore picked up the statue of a marione farmer. “Where’s that sack you brought along?”
Maxon jumped away and did a little skip. “Hollow. It’s a hollow bag, given to our clan by your honored wizard friend, Fenworth.”
“Friend? More like acquaintance. He’s an odd man, and even after questing with him, I don’t claim to know him well enough to say ‘friend.’ ”
Maxon put his hand between the folds of his tunic and pulled out a limp cloth bag. He held it open as Bealomondore lowered the statue. The neck of the hollow bulged, but as the stone figure disappeared, the material returned to a flaccid state.
The kimen thrust the bag toward the tumanhofer. “You take it.”
Bealomondore clenched his fists. “Why? It certainly is not too heavy for you to tote.”
“My orders say for you to take it. Not me.”
Bealomondore hesitated while Maxon thrust the empty-looking sack at him. The image of a mercenary army marching through