Dragons of the Watch - Donita K. Paul [31]
“Oh.”
The dragons enlarged their performance by spreading out across the children’s area. They flew around Bealomondore and Ellie and did their fancy moves above, between, and around them. At first Ellie ducked and dodged the speedy dragons but soon learned they would not bump into her. She relaxed again and allowed their exuberance to stir a thrill that urged her to join in the dance.
Bealomondore stepped in front of her, bowed, and swooped her into a rollicking country dance. The two tumanhofers whirled around the open space and then up and down the aisles of books. When the dragon song and dance came to an end, she and Bealomondore collapsed, sitting on one of the child-size tables, panting and laughing. The dragons settled around them, two on Bealomondore’s shoulders and the others on nearby furniture.
When he’d caught his breath, Bealomondore lifted one dragon off his shoulder and held him out for her to greet.
“This is Laddin. He’s a healing dragon. He’s been with me for two years.”
Ellie dipped her head. “Pleased to meet you.”
“Did you hear him?”
Ellie twisted her mouth and gave Bealomondore an impatient look. “Of course not.”
“Well, he says, ‘Pleased to meet you as well,’ and for me to be patient with you. One of the dragons will stay with you today and awaken your ability to mindspeak.”
She looked from the dragon to the tumanhofer and back to the dragon and again to Bealomondore’s sincere expression.
“How do you know I have any ability to talk to the dragons?”
Bealomondore shrugged. “Why do you assume you do not?”
“Perhaps tumanhofers from my family, or from my part of the country, are stifled in this area. You say you have an artistic talent—”
“When did I say that?”
“You said you were asked to do a wedding portrait for Paladin and Princess Tipper.”
“Oh yes, I remember mentioning that.”
She quirked an eyebrow at him. “Was that not true?”
He looked her in the eye and spoke calmly. “I’m not a liar, Ellicinderpart.”
She ducked her head, unable to meet his earnest gaze. “I’m sorry.”
He took her hand and squeezed it. “I have to admit that when I first met Princess Tipper, her family, and friends, I often thought they were crazy. And Lady Peg gave me a word to describe liars who mean no harm.”
“Liars that mean no harm?”
“When you meet Lady Peg, you’ll understand. She has a very unique perception of the world.” He smiled and Ellie thought he must be fond of the woman. “She’s Tipper’s mother and the wife of Verrin Schope, scholar, artist, and wizard.”
“I don’t think I’ve heard of either one.”
For a brief moment, his face registered amazement mixed with dismay. His expression returned to polite interest so quickly that she wondered if she’d imagined his reaction.
“Lady Peg is the daughter of King Yellat and Queen Venmarie. She married Verrin Schope. He is a stunning intellect versed in everything from mechanics to anatomy. And his artistic abilities—he astonishes the world with paintings, sketches, sculpture, carvings. There’s no end to his genius. He fell through a portal fifteen or so years ago and ended up in Amara. There he developed skills as a wizard under the tutelage of a very old wizard named Fenworth and his librarian, Librettowit, a fine tumanhofer. And he was introduced to Wulder, the one and only true and living God.”
Ellie felt her eyebrows stretched above her eyes and deliberately brought them down, trying to compose a look of acceptance to these wild declarations.
“So Boscamon is a myth?”
“Yes!” He seemed pleased with her question. “Boscamon is fiction, made up to fill the need we have to believe that there is an ultimate authority in the universe. His tale is a placeholder waiting to be replaced with truth. Wulder has been unknown to us, and Paladin has been charged with establishing His followers in His truth in the land of Chiril.”
His enthusiasm stirred a desire to know more, but one statement Bealomondore made did not hold true. She had to point it out. “Old One knows of Wulder.”
Bealomondore frowned at her for a moment, then