Dragons of the Watch - Donita K. Paul [123]
Carrie stood and held up a key. “I’ve got one left over.”
Bealomondore held out his hand, and she placed it in his palm.
He lifted his eyebrows and grinned at Ellie. With no more ado, he inserted the key and turned it. Even the burble of rushing water didn’t drown out the click of the mechanism. Bealomondore twisted the doorknob, gave a push, and the door swung open.
With shrieks of excitement, the children stampeded past Ellie and Bealomondore. She lost her balance, and he grabbed her around the waist, pulling her close to avoid being trampled.
After the charge passed, a commanding voice rose above the din. “Be still.”
Silence. Absolute silence. Except for the stream behind them.
Bealomondore looked at Ellie’s startled face and answered her unspoken question.
“We’d better find out.”
They darted through the door and stopped.
Lightrocks studded the walls, making the great hall bright. The children stood in various poses, seemingly trapped by the authoritative words. Frozen in flight, the minor dragons hung like suspended hot air balloons above their heads.
On the opposite side of the large cavern sat an old man on a throne. If Bealomondore had any doubts as to who the gentleman might be, the pointed hat and elaborate robes pronounced a wizard.
Bealomondore bowed. Ellie, taking her cue from him, gave a small curtsy.
“Come, come.” The wizard gestured for them to cross the expanse between them.
As they passed under Det and Airon, Ellie looked up in amazement and mindspoke, “How’d he do that?”
We could ask him to explain, but if he’s like Fenworth, the explanation will be indecipherable.
“Wizard Pater?” Bealomondore asked as he guided Ellie through the field of statuelike children.
The wizard nodded.
Walking beside Bealomondore, Ellie’s expression reflected horror as she studied the frozen faces of the children. At the foot of the wizard’s dais, she rounded on the old man with an outraged tone. “What have you done?”
He laughed, a pleasant sound in the eerie stillness. “Do not worry, Miss Clarenbessipawl. It is not permanent. The cease-action command will last no more than five minutes. So we have less than five minutes to have our adult conversation uninterrupted.”
She lowered her accusing finger. “All right.”
He smiled, and Bealomondore felt Ellie’s acceptance, and perhaps even approval, of Wizard Pater.
Bealomondore stepped up on the small platform and extended his hand. The wizard took it to shake with a firm but gentle grip.
“Wizard Pater,” said Bealomondore, “we would like to leave Rumbard City. And according to Old One, you too would like to be free.”
“Old One? His name is Humbaken Florn. Yes, you have freed me from the city of Tuck, and I am grateful. But without the bottle of memories, none of us can slip through the glass walls of the city.”
Ellie frowned. “Don’t you know where you put it?”
“I do,” said the wizard, “and I don’t.”
Neither Bealomondore nor his bride-to-be spoke.
“Yes,” said Wizard Pater. “I put the bottle on a shelf in what I have taken as my storeroom.”
Bealomondore realized that their silence would prod the old man to explain more than a stream of questions they might ask. Of course, Ellie joined him without verbal prompting.
“And … many years have passed.” He looked at the children. “And I have placed other bottles on the same shelf.”
The wizard sighed with a huge gust of air. The emotion on his face piqued Bealomondore’s artistic interest. If he could capture that expression of regret, the portrait would resonate with every person who had ever done a foolhardy deed.
The wizard continued, “I arranged for the isolation of the urohm population without consulting Wulder. I was rather peeved at their lack of obedience. Therefore, being an o’rant and given to pride just as completely as were the urohms, I sought to teach them a lesson. In other words, I committed my own act of arrogance by judging and sentencing and carrying out