Dragons of the Watch - Donita K. Paul [28]
“With no one to warn them or scold them, they are bound to do dangerous things.”
“Yes.” His simple answer held a mountain of regret.
He’d thought about all this during the two months he’d been captive in this city. She could hear his despair. It echoed in her heart.
“No, Bealomondore.” She flipped over and started her climb down the stool. Wrapping her body around one of the legs, she slid to the last rung before the floor, then hopped down.
“What do you mean by ‘no’?” he asked.
“I mean that we are not going to let any more children die.”
His face took on a wary expression. “What are you planning? They’re dangerous, wild, ruthless—”
“Children. They’re children. I agree they are a bit wild.” She tapped his chest with her finger. “But we’re going to tame them.”
Bealomondore knew his guest’s crusade to save the children could be laid at the door of the tragedy. He’d given up trying to reason with her and just nodded his head once in a while. The fact that she still had the berry juice stain on her face didn’t help him take her more seriously. He realized she’d be humiliated if she saw the purplish red goatee painted on her chin.
Tak lay beside Ellicinderpart, sound asleep. He made little noises, as if a dream occupied his nighttime thoughts.
Bealomondore envied the goat. He wished he could stretch out and go to sleep. He stifled a yawn. It had been a long, eventful day. Much more challenging than many of the days he’d spent in Rumbard City. He began to think Ellicinderpart would never wind down when suddenly she yawned. He jumped at his chance to move them toward retiring for the night.
“Let me show you where you can wash, and I’ll drag a pillow into a little nook where you can have some privacy as you sleep.” He stood and gestured for her to follow.
She blinked and stared at him for a moment before she stood. “You said you sleep here?”
“Yes, in the children’s section. There are cushions on the floor.”
“Blankets?”
“Yes.” He smiled at her. “I appropriated them from a doll cradle. It doesn’t get very cold at night. I doubted the baby doll needed the covering more than I did.”
She gazed at him. The humor had not registered.
“You must be very tired,” he said.
She still did not move.
He tried to sound patient. “Are you coming?”
She nodded, and he led the way to the children’s room, where bright colors dominated the décor and chairs and tables were more in line with the size they needed. In a corner behind a librarian’s counter, a door remained open to the pint-size rest room.
“I never close the door all the way,” he explained. “I don’t know if I could open the door once it was shut. I’ll leave you here, and I’ll see about locating an appropriate spot for you to call your own.”
She went into the room and pushed the door, but not shut. He scratched his head. One minute she chattered with plans to win the children’s trust, and the next she changed into a docile, quiet—pleasantly quiet—guest. The ordeals of the day must have caught up with her.
He glanced around the room. His bed was between the science and mathematics shelves. He moved to the opposite side of the room, latching on to a pillow as he passed the middle, where he assumed children had sat to listen to stories. He dragged what would be Ellicinderpart’s mattress to the area where a cradle held the wooden baby. Behind the books that displayed colors, shapes, alphabet letters, and numbers, a shadow provided a dark enough spot to facilitate slumber. He crammed the pillow in the tight corner and turned his attention to acquiring a blanket.
The baby’s bed had a small pillow and a sheet. He stole them from the cradle and then went looking for something to serve as a heavier cover. Under the librarian’s counter, he found a stack of folded cloth. He chose a soft, thick flannel, wondering how the librarian had used it.
Ellicinderpart came out of the rest room, her chin scrubbed clean. He made no comment, not wishing to embarrass her.
“I’ve found a cozy spot. First let me show you where I sleep so you’ll know where to find me if you