Dragonspell - Donita K. Paul [131]
“Tumanhofers like gates. And onions. And cheese. Books, of course. And mechanical things. Handy in an agricultural way, as well.”
Kale spoke quickly, trying to stop the wizard’s flow of conversation before he got completely off track. “Will there be tumanhofers at the gate?”
“Wouldn’t think so.”
They moved on, watching their footing on a particularly rough patch.
Fenworth coughed, having some trouble clearing his throat. “Do hope the gate’s open. Likely to be shut, though. Tumanhofers like things closed up and tidy. Old gate. Might not open if it’s shut. Might not close if it’s open.” Fenworth had another fit of coughing.
“We’ll stop here to rest.” Lee Ark gestured to a grouping of flat rocks that looked as if they might have been placed for people to relax and converse. It had the feel of the common room in Fenworth’s castle.
Kale sat next to the wizard and removed the sling from her back. The meech egg thrummed steadily. She rested her arm over the bulky package of her cape and contents. The minor dragons climbed out of their pocket-dens and blinked at the surroundings. Once they saw the others in the party resting, they darted off to look for food.
“A cup of tea would be nice,” Dar said as he eased himself onto a rock and stretched out on his back, his hands cupped behind his neck. Black grime dimmed the bright yellow of the doneel’s clothing. His brocade jacket had a rip in the arm seam. Stains spattered his ragged pants, and scuff marks obliterated the high shine of his boots.
Lee Ark and Brunstetter took out their weapons and began sharpening the blades. Kale shivered at the sight and looked over her shoulder. She could not sense anything lurking in the shadows. It had been quite awhile since she had noticed the presence of any bisonbecks either near or far.
Leetu sat down and pulled out an arrow. She fiddled with its feathers and then changed it for another. Kale wondered what she was doing.
The emerlindian looked up at her. “Kale, look in the things Granny Noon gave you. See if you can find moerston bark. We can chew on that.”
Kale remembered the bumpy bark and Granny Noon’s advice to use it when hungry. “It has some nutritional qualities,” the old emerlindian had told her. “But for the heart, it is much more helpful. The little bit of food you get from it will seem like much more, because it tastes good and refreshes your mouth.”
Kale dug in her cape and pulled out the packet. She got to her feet to pass the contents around. She put the last piece in her mouth and bit down. It tasted like a tea Mistress Meiger brewed and then chilled to serve in the tavern on summer days.
The cramp in Kale’s stomach eased. She longed for the peaceful days of a slave when she was often tired, often lonely, but never hungry. For a moment Kale wondered if she would see the old emerlindian Granny Noon or Mistress Meiger ever again.
That’s not very profitable thinking. She chastised herself and went to sit with the librarian.
“Can you tell me if the gate was left open or shut?” she asked him.
He had taken off his shoes and rubbed his feet with his broad-fingered hands. “It was left closed, but reports through the years indicate that the mechanism that triggers the opening and shutting has become unreliable. Tumanhofer gates are elaborate. The gate at the entrance of Dael is an example. Looks simple, but it requires a trained man like my cousin Bumby Bumbocore to open and close it after it has been set for the night.”
“I remember the door in the gate made a lot of noise before it opened.”
“Yes, well.” Librettowit looked down, embarrassed. “Could have used some adjustments. All that racket wasn’t strictly necessary, but I think it makes the gatekeepers feel important, shows what a lot is going on while they’re working to open the door. People standing outside are impressed rather than impatient if they think the gatekeeper is struggling with quite a few gears to allow their admittance.”
Kale nodded. “How is this gate made? Will we be able to open it if it’s shut?”
Librettowit stared off