Dragons of the Watch - Donita K. Paul [103]
The vague shape stood still. At his sides an appendage rose like an arm and swept through the air in a gesture encompassing the scene before Bealomondore.
Baskets and platters of food appeared. The horde’s meal had been delivered. As the shape’s arm fell to his side, the entire image sharpened for a second before he flickered out.
A wizard. Long white beard and hair. Pointed hat. Robes embroidered with elaborate scenes of mountains.
Bealomondore could not see the wizard’s face. But this had to be Wizard Pater on one of his daily rounds, providing sustenance for those in his bottle city.
The tumanhofer watched from less than a dozen feet as the man strolled through the open area surrounding the fountain. He never stopped. Nor did he make another gesture, or even say a command, yet more food appeared in baskets and on platters.
The wizard strolled on in the direction of the butcher shop. The tumanhofer stayed where he was.
Children poured into the fountain circle from all directions. They tore into the food greedily.
Bealomondore remembered the nature of his errand. He and Tak must get the wagon. With the streets empty, they could transport Porky in safety.
Ellie sat in the healing circle. She’d insisted that Soo-tie and Cinder join them as well. The children objected to having to sit still and didn’t seem to care much whether Porky lived or died.
“Isn’t he your friend?” asked Ellie.
Soo-tie shrugged.
“Sort of,” said Cinder.
Ellie feared the children would hear the exasperation in her voice. She took a deep breath before asking, “What do you mean by ‘sort of’?”
“I don’t know.”
Another deep breath. “Is Soo-tie your friend?”
Soo-tie giggled.
A look of horror chased away Cinder’s sullen expression. He jerked his head back and forth. “No, double no, and triple no.”
“What’s wrong with having friends?”
Cinder’s shrug could have knocked clinging cats off his shoulders. “Don’t know.”
Soo-tie squeezed Ellie’s hand. “Yawn says no friends.”
“Why?”
Soo-tie stared at Porky’s pale face for a moment before speaking. “Friends disappear. I cried when Lulu was gone.”
“You’ve had lots of friends disappear?”
Her childish face scrunched with concentration. “Sometimes I think so, but I only remember Lulu.”
“There was Tad,” said Cinder.
Soo-tie’s grip tightened on Ellie’s hand. “I don’t remember Tad.”
A rustle at the door made them all jump.
Soo-tie squeezed hard at the noise then relaxed. “That’s Toady and Grim. They’re nobody special.”
Ellie, who considered each of her bothersome siblings special, examined these two newcomers with a different perspective. Shaggy hair, dirty faces, wary eyes, tight-lipped and anxious, the children looked very needy and special. She smiled and gestured for them to come in.
One spoke. Ellie didn’t know it if it was Toady or Grim. “Do you have food?”
“Not here,” answered Cinder with a smug grin. “But we’re going to go live in the library, and there’s lots of food there.”
Ellie’s eyes widened as she looked at the boy who minutes before had not wanted anything to do with the library and Old One.
The child in the door narrowed his eyes to glare at Cinder. “Nah! That ain’t true. You wouldn’t go in there.”
The other child spoke up. “I would. If’n there’s food, I’d go.”
Ellie decided from their voices that the first was a boy and the second a girl.
“You’re hungry.” Ellie reached in her basket and pulled out two daggarts.
The children moved quickly and sat beside her, licking their lips, eyes glued on her hands. She held out the daggarts, and the two children snatched them. Each one crammed the crunchy treat into a mouth drooling with anticipation.
Ellie did her best not to look affronted by such bad manners. “What’s your name?” she asked the boy.
“Grim.” His answer sprayed her with crumbs. He still chewed.