Dragons of the Watch - Donita K. Paul [71]
“It rings on the third floor,” he explained.
Ellie nodded, but her expression conveyed little confidence that this was a good idea. She surveyed the contraption as if looking for cracked wood or frayed ropes.
“Remember,” said Bealomondore, “Old One said things do not wear out in Rumbard City.”
“I think he is wearing out.”
“Point taken.”
Old One’s voice boomed through the shaft. “Are you in there yet?”
Bealomondore hopped into the box. “Ready!” He winked at Ellie. “Your turn next. There’s nothing to it really. Not nearly as daunting as riding on a dragon’s back.”
The dumbwaiter jerked, then started upward. Bealomondore sensed the question in Ellie’s mind.
“Not on the back of a minor dragon. A riding dragon is bigger than a horse.” The dumbwaiter lifted him behind the wall, and he could no longer see her. “I’ll tell you about it later.”
Ellie watched the dumbwaiter slide upward in the shaft. When Bealomondore passed out of view, she saw the two rails that the lift followed and two ropes that moved, one going up and one sliding down. The apparatus whined as if protesting against the weight in the car. Through their bond, she knew that he sat in the car with no qualms. Perhaps his calm demeanor would transfer to her when it was her turn.
She climbed onto the crate and leaned in to see the bottom of the car rising above her. A screech made her jerk back. It sounded as if the box rubbed against the side of the shaft. In a moment, the grating sound diminished, and she could again hear the constant whine. A loud thud cut off the high-pitched complaint.
She sighed her relief as she realized Bealomondore had climbed out and stood next to the urohm.
The dumbwaiter began its downward journey, groaning and protesting with a much-diminished cry. It thumped against the floor of the shaft when it reached bottom.
Bealomondore’s voice carried down to her. “Climb in, Ellie.”
She hopped aboard and called, “I’m in.”
When an initial shudder signaled that her trip had begun, her muscles tensed as if she were about to fall. But the adventure of doing something entirely new grabbed her, zinging through her body. A happy glow replaced the trepidation from a moment before. The whine reverberated in the car, and she covered her ears. But even that added to the thrill. She wanted to tell Gustus about the dumbwaiter. She knew if he were here, she wouldn’t be able to keep him out of this contraption.
The image of her brother’s ecstatic face sent a wave of homesickness through her, squelching her enthusiasm. She wanted to tell her mother and sisters about Graddapotmorphit Bealomondore. She wasn’t as sure about introducing her suitor to her father. What would Da think of an artist?
She’d best start with Bealomondore’s service in the war. Then approach the subject of his talent. Perhaps the subject of his unusual friends would not come up at all. Her father was not likely to ask, “Has this young man spent any time living with kimens? Does this suitor associate with wizards? Can’t have any odd associates if he wants to court my daughter.” She sighed. Mother would understand, and so would Aunt Tiffenbeth.
The car continued to move up past the second floor, where the opening revealed a room of bookshelves in orderly rows. The sides of the dumbwaiter scraped against the walls of the shaft. Ellie clenched her teeth against the grinding noise. Once past the tight spot, Ellie noticed the dim light giving way to stronger illumination.
When she saw a square hole in the wall like the one on the first floor, she could almost imagine having returned to the same spot. But Bealomondore and Old One stood in this room. The tumanhofer greeted her with a grin and held her hand as she climbed out.
He gave her a quick hug and a peck on the cheek. Ellie’s eyes darted over to Old One, but the urohm concentrated on applying a clamp to the rope, which she assumed would keep the dumbwaiter in place. Orli sat on the back of a sofa. This morning, his mottled white and gray scales looking more like moldy clotted cream than