Dragons of the Watch - Donita K. Paul [131]
“It is indeed your niece.” He patted his wife’s hand, which clutched the open window’s edge.
She jerked her hand away and used both to cover her face. She moaned.
Uncle Stemikenjon merely raised his eyebrows and addressed Ellie. “How did you reach this point before us? And what happened to your clothes and your carpetbag?”
“Have her get in,” Aunt Tiffenbeth ordered from behind her hands. “Before someone sees her.”
“Oh, right,” said her uncle. He opened the door, descended, and gave his arm to support Ellie as she stepped on the small runner beneath the door. “I apologize for being tardy in bringing you in. I’m a bit baffled by your appearance. Not just your physical appearance, your clothes, your missing carpetbag, but also that you managed to come all this way in the inclement weather and get here first. An appearance out of nowhere, so to speak.”
“Where is the goat?” asked Aunt Tiffenbeth, her words still muffled behind her hands. “She doesn’t still have the goat, does she?”
Uncle Stemikenjon gave a quick glance around in all directions. “Apparently not.”
Ellie settled on the upholstered bench beside her aunt. “Tak is … is being taken care of.”
The coach swayed as her uncle climbed in and took his seat opposite the ladies. He shut the door, leaned out the window, and ordered, “Drive on.”
The carriage jerked into motion.
Aunt Tiffenbeth took her hands from her face, shuddered when she once again saw Ellie, and turned her eyes to the scenery passing.
She whispered in a dramatic undertone, “Tell me what happened, Ellicinderpart.”
Ellie couldn’t think of a good place to begin. Fortunately her aunt prodded. “What happened to your carpetbag?”
“A gang of wild children stole it.”
Her aunt nodded as if she heard of such things every day. “And your attire?”
“I’d gotten muddy, so I stopped in a cave to change.” She paused. “And to get out of the rain for a while.”
Aunt Tiffenbeth’s eyes drifted back to survey her niece, then darted back to the more pleasant view of grass and trees and cottages. They approached the crossroads village.
“And why did you choose that particular combination of clothing?”
Ellie looked down at her mismatched outfit. What she was wearing hadn’t concerned her for the months she’d been in Rumbard City.
“The children pulled my clothes out of the bag and threw them all over the place. They carried off most of my belongings. This is what I could find to wear.”
“Stemikenjon, you shall inform the magistrate of this area about this barbaric crime.”
“Of course.” He nodded his head, and Ellie realized he’d picked up his book and was reading again. Perhaps he and Old One, or Humbaken Florn, could discuss books. Master Florn could use a friend with similar interests. Maybe she could arrange for Gramps and Humbaken Florn to meet. Once she found Bealomondore and Wizard Fenworth and they broke the bottle around the city.
Aunt Tiffenbeth’s expressions reflected the different emotions she sorted through before she could handle the situation in her usual sensible, ordered manner. The family often counted on her to rise to any challenge that faced them. “The clothes in the trunk on the roof are too fancy to wear on the journey. We shall have to stop at a dress shop in one of the villages.”
Ellie’s former appreciation for her aunt crept back. She’d resented being dumped beside the road to take care of a wayward goat, but her aunt would come through for her. The shock was wearing off, and the practical details became the focus of attention.
Her aunt went on to describe how they would manage to buy clothing and get Ellie changed without causing a stir. Aunt Tiffenbeth would purchase the needed garments, then Ellie would change inside the coach with the windows in place and the curtains drawn.
Ellie gasped at a sudden revelation. She’d come out of the bottle at the same place she’d fallen in. And she’d also come out on the same