Dragons of the Watch - Donita K. Paul [35]
He looked sad, and Ellie scooted to sit on a cushion close by. She leaned toward him and peered up at his downcast expression. “Couldn’t you do all of them, one at a time?”
“I could.” He averted his gaze, staring up at the skylight until she thought he had forgotten her. A big sigh escaped him as he refocused on her. “I could, but I am ready to pick one thing, one place to get to know extremely well. Perhaps even one lady with whom to share the experience of settling down.”
“Surely among all the people you know there is someone who interests you.”
He tried to muster a grin. “There was one who caught my eye, but she was my good friend, and she never saw me as someone who could be more than that.”
“Maybe that’s where you should go. To renew the friendship? Encourage a romance?”
Now his full smile broke out, and the room felt lighter, easier to breathe in. Ellie leaned back and watched him.
His eyes twinkled, and he chuckled a bit. “No, I’ve moved on, and she’s moved on. She found someone who gives her that urge to build a nest and raise little ones.”
He straightened his shoulders and grinned. “Do you know what I would like to do?”
She shook her head.
“I should like to sketch you and Airon as you sing, as you practice.” He bent over to pick up a large pad of paper and a box that rattled. “I have the things I need. You two set up wherever you like. Try to stay in the light.”
Airon did an airborne somersault and flew to a chair across the room that soaked up the morning sun from the skylight.
Ellie followed and climbed into the oversize seat. She sat sideways with her back against one arm, while Airon sat on the other arm. Shy at first, she sang a slow song about cherries and chickens and cabbage. The artist took off his jacket and stood as he sketched. One arm held the pad of paper, and he made bold strokes with the pencil in the other hand. He’d then sit and, with great concentration, make smaller marks. He drew several pictures from different angles.
Ellie longed to see them, but singing with Airon captured her attention. The songs varied from ballads to nursery rhymes to frolicking party melodies. They came to a short children’s song.
The sun comes up each morning.
The sun goes down each night.
And if the sun doesn’t shine today,
His job, I’ll give away.
They repeated it several times, and Bealomondore joined in. Then they sang it as a two-part round until they achieved the desired effect. Next, Airon suggested they try it in a three-part round, and Ellie heard the mindspoken words. When they tried the harder version, Bealomondore and Ellie got their words all tangled up. Airon, of course, only sang in her style of syllables and didn’t have a problem. They ended up laughing, all three of them. They tried to start the song again but couldn’t make it past the third line before all three voices were on a different tune.
Ellie fell over onto the seat cushion. She wiped tears of laughter from her eyes. Bealomondore was in a similar state, leaning against a table and holding his side.
“Hear now! What’s all this commotion?” A loud voice boomed from one of the balconies above that ran around the rotunda’s open space.
Ellie sucked in her breath and stopped laughing immediately. She squinted as she looked up, realizing by the angle of the sunbeams pouring in that it was noon.
“Who’s there?” asked Bealomondore. “We’re sorry to disturb you, sir.”
There was no answer. Ellie detected a slight movement. She jumped from the chair and scurried to stand next to Bealomondore.
“Did you see him?” she whispered.
“No, did you?”
“I saw something move. There. Beside that painting of horses.”
“Ah.” Bealomondore made a bow in the direction of the shadowed figure. “May I issue an introduction? This is Ellicinderpart Clarenbessipawl. I am Graddapotmorphit Bealomondore.”
He bowed. She curtsied.
No response.
“Do we have the pleasure of addressing Old One?”
“Go about your business,” came the loud, gravelly answer, “and