Dragons of the Watch - Donita K. Paul [40]
“I’m sorry.” Ellie tilted her head toward the one she’d offended. “I forgot the rules.”
He grunted. Her little brothers would have said, “That’s all right. Just don’t do it again.” These children didn’t know the customs that made playtime fun. If she and Bealomondore were stuck here forever, she would make sure these overgrown six-year-olds learned some manners and rules.
The small procession of captors and two captives came to a building, and Ellie spotted the raised threshold she would have to step over. None of the children warned her, and none noticed that she did not trip. Inside, the cool air smelled musty.
Her handlers took her through several rooms and then made her sit on a box. They untied her hands, then retied each hand to two posts beside the seat.
“Take off the blindfold,” ordered Tall One.
The stocking was yanked off the top of her head, pulling her hair. She blinked and studied the dirty faces surrounding her. It seemed to her that they were trying to outdo each other in a fierce glowering contest. Several got bored and wandered off. Others followed. It didn’t surprise her that Tall One and the pincher tied for last-to-give-up at looking mean. Ellie stopped watching the contest and surveyed her surroundings.
A dozen children still surrounded Tak. They petted him and cooed and talked nonstop. No one listened to anyone else, and poor Tak closed his eyes.
“The dog wants to go to sleep,” said the girl with curly hair and a permanent pout. She started jostling the others, making them surrender their positions next to Tak. The others gave way, proving to Ellie that this girl had earned her place of boss by being tough.
“We should give him a name,” said the child who previously clung to Ellie’s legs.
They turned in unison to their captive.
“What’s his name?” demanded Pouter.
Ellie used her calmest, kindest, most nonthreatening voice. She would not give them the satisfaction of losing control. She would speak like an adult, even if doing so tied a twist in her tongue. “His name is Tak.”
“That’s no good.” Pouter turned back to contemplate the goat. “If he’s going to go to sleep, he has to lie down. Make him lie down.”
Six children rushed forward to obey the command. They grabbed Tak’s legs and pulled them out from under the frightened animal.
“Stop!” Ellie fumed. “You’re going to hurt him.”
Tak hit the floor on his side with a thud and a grunt.
“You don’t know much,” said Tall One. “He’s not hurt.”
The announcement from their male leader ended the contest. Pincher plodded across the floor, making as loud a noise as he could. His footfalls sounded like he weighed three hundred pounds. He threw himself down on a pile of dirty blankets.
Tak lay still. Ellie figured pretending to be docile was a good strategy. With a little difficulty, she scooted back on the wooden box so she could relax against the wall.
Tall One and Pouter left the room together, whispering and looking very much like they were conspiring to do evil. Ellie reminded herself that children didn’t plot with much efficiency. Even the knots that bound her to the pillars failed to totally restrain her movements. She could probably loosen them and escape if no one was watching. Only a dozen children remained in the room. But each and every one of them kept sneaking peeks at her while they pretended to be absorbed in their games.
She studied them as much as they watched her. For the most part, they behaved much like her younger siblings and their friends. But the urohms’ simple games erupted into slapping and shoving fights for no apparent reason. The matches consisted of moving objects like stones and sticks in a pattern she could not discern.
Leg Clinger came to sit close to her but twisted a cloth in her hands and did not speak. The rag represented something. The child wadded the material into several shapes and finally clasped it tight in her arms and cuddled it, rocking slightly.
Ellie spoke very softly. “My name is Ellicinderpart.”
Leg Clinger stopped all movement.
“What’s your name?” Ellie