Dragons of the Watch - Donita K. Paul [117]
But Bealomondore chafed at the time taken in the care of the little clan. His determination to get out of Rumbard City grew with each exasperating day of child-sitting.
He pored over the journals of Old One and of some of the deceased citizens of Rumbard City.
“What are you reading now?” asked Ellie during one of the afternoon rest times.
He held up the book in his hand. “Somas.”
“The architect.” She sat on a footstool opposite him.
Bealomondore looked at her dimples and smiled, welcoming her company. Her hands went to her cheeks, resting on the little dents beside her mouth. She blushed.
As much as he liked to famfoozle her, he didn’t like to keep her in a state of embarrassment. He continued on the subject at hand.
“Right.” He paused. Where to go from here? How much did she want to escape their confinement and the onerous job of running an orphanage for huge six-year-olds? “Ellie, I keep finding references to an underground city. It has to be real. Old One doesn’t remember, but Airon knows tumanhofer songs she said she learned in the ‘old’ library. I can only believe the ‘old’ library is beneath us.”
“Why would finding the old tumanhofer city be helpful to us?”
“Because the city would have more than one way to the surface. A dozen exits or more.” He leaned forward. “I’ve been through miles of the subter.”
He felt her frisson of fear as she frowned.
“I worry about you when you go exploring.”
“No need. Det is always with me, whether we are on the streets of Rumbard City or in the tunnels below. He always knows right where we are and the fastest way back to the library.”
“He’s a remarkable dragon.”
Bealomondore slumped against the cushions of his chair. “We haven’t come across one door that sounds like the one described.”
“What about the key? Who had it last? Where was it kept?”
“Mysteries.” Bealomondore puzzled a moment over their predicament. “But finding the key without locating the door would do us no good.”
She finished his thought. “Finding the door without the key would not be much better.”
Bealomondore tapped the closed book in his lap. “Somas gives the best clues yet. He talks about an underground cool-water stream. If we follow the stream, we come to the door.”
Ellie laughed. “Now we have to find a key, a door, and a stream. This doesn’t seem to me to be an improvement.”
“I’ll ask Old One again. Sometimes he remembers things.”
“And most of the time he doesn’t.”
“You’re being a pessimist, Ellie. That’s not like you.”
She looked down at her hands, shoulders drooping. “I hate to admit it, but I think I’m tired of caring for these enormous, demanding children.”
He refrained from commenting on what he considered to be the futility of their efforts. Ellie leaned forward. “Did you notice we have two new members in the clan again today? I’m quite positive we have more children in the library than Yawn commands outside our little sanctuary.”
He nodded. “I always smell them before I see them.”
She giggled. “Soo-tie and Toady have already told them they are going to have baths after story time.”
He grinned. “How’d they take the news?”
“Quite well. It seems Yawn is being particularly nasty and they’d rather be with us.”
“Understandable.” He hopped out of the chair and came to sit with his girl. “Ellie, Yawn is dangerous. If he ever gets hold of one of these children who has defected to the library, he’ll pound him or her.”
“I know.” She shuddered. He saw the image she dwelled on, the injured Porky when they first rescued him. She clutched Bealomondore’s hand. “They don’t venture out farther than the fenced park. But I think they are getting dangerously restless. Mischief erupts out of boredom.”
He hugged her and kissed her forehead. “So wise for one so young.”
She laughed.
He gave her a quick