Dragons of the Watch - Donita K. Paul [26]
“Where are they?” she asked.
“Who?”
“The children.”
“In bed.”
“But where?”
Bealomondore looked around as if the buildings would give him a clue. “I don’t know.”
“You’ve never looked for them?”
He shrugged, furrowed his brow, and shook his head. “Why should I?”
“So they are probably sleeping in boxes, or on the floor, or someplace totally unsuitable.”
“As long as they are asleep, what does it matter?”
“It does matter. Children should have their hands and faces washed, if not a whole bath. They should have a good-night story and be tucked into a cozy bed. They should have a kiss on the cheek or forehead and someone to smile at them. The last thing they see at night should be the happy face of someone who loves them.”
“These children would bite the hand that tucked them in.”
“Maybe not.” She paused as they walked past several shops. “Perhaps they might bite the first night or two, but I bet they’d like being loved.”
Tak trotted ahead and reached the fountain first. He drank and then, with water dripping from his beard, went to investigate the box on the butcher’s stoop.
For dinner they had hot bowls of stew, a loaf of buttered bread, and two peaches. They sat by the fountain to eat, then cleaned up by returning things to the box.
“Shall we go home by a different route?” asked Bealomondore. “I thought we could go by the town circle and collect your carpetbag if it is still sailing the turbulent sea around the stone ladies.”
“And you’re sure the children won’t be lying in wait?”
“Positive.”
Ellie called Tak to leave the bush he was chewing on and come with them. They traveled a street she didn’t think she had seen during her frantic route that day. She and Tak had crisscrossed much of the inner city during their attempts to elude the children that morning. Bealomondore’s guidance brought them back to the central fountain after only a ten-minute walk.
The moon was no longer bent, and lightrocks glowed from the tops of lampposts. Along the way, they picked up a few of her discarded garments. She hoped to find enough garments to change her clothes when they reached the library.
They came to the empty circle. Ellie sighed her relief. She trusted her tumanhofer companion more and more as she grew to know him, but the lengthy chase that had begun her day had her wary of running into the hunters.
Her valise floated low, having taken on water. Bealomondore took off his shoes and socks, rolled up his trousers, and waded in to rescue the listing ship. He then climbed several of the statues to retrieve her shoes, a bonnet, and her lacy slip.
As he returned her slip, she blushed in the moonlight and dropped her chin to avoid his eyes. He laughed and made a sweeping bow. “I consider this to be the sail to the ship, milady, nothing more.”
She wrapped her clothes in one skirt to make an easily carried bundle. None of her new clothes would ever be the same, but at least she’d have a change of clothes again. She carried the clothing while Bealomondore held the carpetbag away from his side to prevent the drips from staining his trousers.
Feeling much better about Rumbard City, Bealomondore, and their chances of finding an escape, Ellie walked happily beside her escort as they made their way back to the library.
Tak wandered ahead of them, poking his nose into whatever interested him and nibbling whatever grew from the flower boxes. Bealomondore stopped at a corner.
He motioned toward Tak, who had gone on in a straight line.
“We turn here.”
“Tak,” Ellie called. “Come back. We’re going this way.”
The goat turned his head and started back, then stopped. He looked at them and then down an alley.
“This way,” Ellie insisted.
Tak shook his head so that the hair on his whole body shimmied in the moonlight, then took off down the side alley.
Ellie turned to look at Bealomondore with a shrug. “I’m sorry. But I can’t leave him out here. When the children come out tomorrow, they would love to catch