Dragons of the Watch - Donita K. Paul [84]
He stood at the top, complaining loudly and stamping his feet. His eyes focused on the second staircase. The tumanhofers on the ground floor could not see what he saw. With a final long blast of objection, Tak turned and plunged down the way he had come. The tramping of heavy footsteps announced Old One’s rapid descent.
A swarm of fist-sized, black batlike creatures poured from the upper floor and chased the goat.
Bealomondore drew his sword. “Take cover,” he ordered Ellie. She ran to the vestibule, snatched an umbrella out of the umbrella stand, and came back to his side.
Tak rushed past them, and they began to swing at the throng of black beasts that followed. Orli appeared among the cloud. He spat at the opponents. Once hit, the animal would squeal and fall to the ground. Ellie quit batting at the air for fear of hitting the white dragon. She backed up a little and surveyed the scene.
Old One collapsed halfway down the last staircase. A cloud of creatures attacked him. He made an effort to bat them away, but put up little fight. She dodged through the melee and scrambled up the oversize steps as quickly as she could. Once beside Old One, she grabbed at the beasts with her bare hands. Their soft, scaly bodies crumpled in her clasp, and she dropped the dead creatures as quickly as she picked them off his body.
Two of the horrid creatures swooped in and grabbed her hair, instantly tangled in her locks. She screamed and struck them with frantic slaps. As soon as one fell away, more swooped in to torment her.
As she struggled, Tak came to her side. He took over butting at the beasts clinging to the old urohm. The round hall quieted, and Bealomondore arrived to help. He dispatched the last live animal stuck in her hair.
He put his arm around her. “It’s over. They’re dead.”
“Old One?”
Bealomondore reached to touch the urohm’s neck. “He’s alive. Some nasty bites.” Examining her arms and legs and face, he asked, “You? Are you hurt?”
She put her hand to her head and grasped a dead creature still tangled in her hair.
“Get it out,” she cried. “Oh, Bealomondore, get it out!”
She covered her face as he worked to free not only the one she’d discovered but two more. As he worked at the frustrating task, she sobbed. “Cut it out. Cut my hair.”
“Now, Ellie.” He sounded more stressed than reassuring. “Ellie, we’re all right. This will just take a moment. One left.”
When he threw the last one down, she turned into his embrace and allowed him to cradle her as she cried.
“Pull yourself together, love. We have to see to Old One, Tak, and Orli.” She lifted her head and made herself look. Old One lay where he had fallen, covered with red wounds no bigger than the end of her thumb. Tak had doubled up his legs, fallen on the step, and lay with his head extended before him, eyes closed. On the floor of the rotunda, still, lifeless black bodies surrounded an unmoving Orli.
Ellie jumped to see to Tak. Bealomondore moved to examine Old One.
“Tak,” she whispered.
His eyes slitted open. A weak “maa” answered her. His eyes closed again. She ran a hand over his white coat. Tiny red spots of blood exposed the many bites he’d suffered. She only had a few scratches. She looked at Bealomondore. He had no visible bites. Apparently, the creatures did not like the taste of tumanhofer blood.
Bealomondore swept dead bodies into a pile. He had no idea what these black creatures were called or where they came from. Old One was still sprawled on the steps. Bealomondore and Ellie could not move him. They’d cleaned his wounds and applied an ointment they thought would help. Then they had worked on Tak, who had numerous bites but didn’t seem to be as afflicted as the urohm.
Now Ellie soothed Orli, his spots less significant than the goat’s. Clearly the minor dragon suffered from nerves, so Ellie sat cross-legged on the floor, humming to Orli, with Tak tucked up next to her.
She interrupted her tune. “Bealomondore?”
“Yes?”
“We must figure out a way to signal the watch when we need them immediately.”