Dragons of the Valley - Donita K. Paul [20]
Hollee sat down, directing her full attention to the conversation. A squirmy intuition in her belly told her this would be entertaining.
The wizard’s frown deepened. “What do you care if I like them or not? Do you like them?”
“Well, y-yes.”
“Good.” He clapped a hand on Bealomondore’s shoulder. “Shows you have good taste. These are excellent. Finest I’ve seen. You’ve been working hard. Time to take a break. Look at other things.”
“I’m not tired at all. This project energizes me. And I haven’t even started on the ropmas.”
“Mustn’t do it all at once. I have a job for you.”
Hollee’s head bobbed in anticipation. She knew the wizard’s scheme, and she knew the tumanhofer would object. Which stubborn man would come out on top?
“A job?” Bealomondore backed up.
“Yes, you and I will go have a look at this enemy.”
Hollee sat up straighter. This wasn’t exactly what she expected. The wizard had been muttering all morning about a trip to Ragar to get more information from King Yellat and Paladin. He also planned to gather information on the way.
The tumanhofer went rigid. “I don’t want to go anywhere.”
“It will only take a day or so. We don’t have to search for them. Hollee knows right where their camp is.”
Hollee frowned. This dangerous mission might not be enjoyable. Still, The Grawl couldn’t see her, and she found the intruders fascinating.
Bealomondore shook his head and backed up another step. “No, thank you. I am quite content to do what I do best. I am recording this culture for those who will never have the pleasure of living among the kimens.”
Fenworth let out an exasperated sigh. “Librettowit.”
“What?”
Giggling, Hollee explained, “The librarian is writing a paper to be published. On kimens. He plans another on ropmas.”
“Tumanhofers!” The wizard took his hat off and rammed it back on his head.
Hollee frowned. She was sure the paper was on kimens.
Wizard Fenworth pulled his beard, and Hollee hopped to a different position to see what creatures fell out. She counted two beetles, a salamander, and a centipede.
Fenworth paced back and forth in the small area cluttered with the artist’s tools and pictures. Bealomondore jumped to save an easel from crashing to the ground.
“Tumanhofers are infuriating travel companions. They can always think of a reason to procrastinate.” Fenworth stopped in front of Bealomondore. “You’re a hero, man. Act like one.”
“No, I’m an artist. And I am acting like one.”
“Weren’t you with us on the quest? Yes, you were. I remember. We found the statues, vanquished insidious evil. The entire journey was great as far as questing and heroing goes. But you’ve just had a small taste of victory over disaster. Surely you long for more.”
“Yes, I admit I had my bite of conquering villains, and because of it, I’m up to my gullet with the unpleasant business.”
Hollee cringed. Would her chance for adventure be smashed by this reluctant tumanhofer?
The wizard sighed, flapped his arms against his sides, and nodded. “I don’t really blame you. I hate questing myself. It’s a most uncomfortable business.” He grasped the lapels of his robe and laid his chin on his chest, frowning ferociously. “But I want to see this thing called The Grawl. Must be some kind of grawlig with a name like that, and grawligs are ornery, not particularly dangerous.”
Wizard Fenworth reached inside his robe and searched his pockets. “Tut, tut, oh dear. Have I forgotten them?”
Bealomondore lifted an eyebrow and watched the other man with unbridled suspicion on his face. “What are you looking for?”
“Things.”
“What things?”
“Ah, here’s one now.” Fenworth pulled a sword from a hollow just as he might pull it from a sheath. “A warrior’s sword. Very handy.” He held it out to the tumanhofer. “Hold this.”
Bealomondore hesitated, then took the weapon. The weight of it pulled his arm down so the tip touched the floor.
Fenworth continued his rummaging. “Here somewhere. Tut, tut. What’s this?” He brought forth a scrap of cloth. “I haven’t the foggiest idea where this came from.”
Hollee eyed him, wondering what fantastic thing