Dragons of the Valley - Donita K. Paul [40]
“Not a quest,” boomed Librettowit as he arrived in the commons with a dozen kimens following. “I don’t like quests.”
More kimens, mostly children, scuttled out of the trees and from behind bushes.
“You don’t need to come,” said Tipper. “I know you’d prefer to finish your discourse on the kimen lifestyle. And you still have the ropmas to study.”
“I know my duty, young lady. Your father would be most upset if his daughter went gallivanting around Chiril with a bachelor tumanhofer. I will go along as chaperone.”
“I don’t think—” Bealomondore began.
Winkel patted his leg. “Yes, dear. It is necessary.” She gestured toward those crowding around the departing adventurers. “We’ve brought food for your hollows.”
It took a few moments to store bread, cheese, jars of soup, dried berries and nuts, and bars of delicious yumber into their clothing.
“Take care,” said Winkel, “and don’t mess with that growling thing.”
“We won’t,” said Tipper and leaned over to kiss the kimen matriarch’s cheek.
That started a round of hugs and kisses and advice giving from the villagers.
Finally, Librettowit cleared his throat and made a pronouncement. “We’re leaving now, before the sun sets and the moon rises. Any more advice can be forwarded through Chiril’s excellent postal system. Thank you for your hospitality, dear kimens of the Starling Forest. I hope to return to finish my studies.”
“There’s just one more thing,” said Winkel. She pulled out a large sack, presumably from a hollow in her clothing. She waved it at those about to depart. “Blindfolds.”
15
Disappearing
A soft knock on the door brought a satisfied twitch of Sir Beccaroon’s tail, or at least a twitch of the stump under the artificial contraption that passed for his tail.
He tilted his head and heard Lady Peg’s muffled voice.
He called, “Come in.”
The door opened, and Verrin Schope and his lady entered. Lady Peg carried a board and a jar of salve. Her husband carried a bucket and two sponges. Their four minor dragons fluttered into the room as well and proceeded to explore before taking up roosts.
“I’m sorry we didn’t get here right after supper,” explained Lady Peg. “We had to wait until the hall was clear, and a very improper lady stood outside her door for the longest time having a conversation with a gentleman. It is, of course, improper for a lady to talk to a man who is not her relative unless they are in a public place. I suppose the man could have been her brother, but I don’t think so. Finally Verrin Schope had to suggest to the man that he was very, very thirsty, so he left. But don’t ask me how my husband convinced him he was thirsty. He just did.”
Verrin Schope placed a towel on the seat of a wooden chair and the bucket on top of the towel. He then put a heavy foot on one of the rungs underneath, and Beccaroon flew to perch on the back of the chair.
Lady Peg continued to natter on as both she and her husband used the sponges to soak the prosthesis, softening the special glue invented by Wizard Fenworth and his associates. When the rounded bowl disguised with feathers came off, Beccaroon gave his backside an undignified shake.
Grandur and Zabeth flew in to examine his irritated skin. They aided the two emerlindians as they soaked and peeled off the remnants of sticky glue. Verrin Schope unscrewed the lid on the salve, and both he and his wife dipped their fingers into it.
“I know you think this is beneath you, to have your skin taken care of this way,” said Lady Peg. “But I want you to know that I like doing it. Your poor rump was injured protecting my daughter after all. You were so brave to fly in and attack her attackers, and those bug men at the Insect Emporium were clever enough to devise a tail. Actually I don’t mean they were clever because I assume they are still being clever, so I should say are clever instead of were clever.”
Verrin Schope cleared his throat. “We must be quiet, my dear. We don’t want someone passing in the hall to hear us. It would be difficult to explain why we are in the room of the grand