A Storm in the Desert: Dragonlinked Chronicles Voume 3 (12 page)

I would.
Anaya sat up, face and body dusted with the powdery sand.
It is perfect to lay in, and is perfect for eggs.

We must do this at the new home.
Xochi walked up to Renata and bumped the girl’s shoulder with her nose.
My eggs will be laid in this sand.

Renata, a smile on her lips, made an awkward bow where she squatted. “As you command my lady.”

Xochi nodded once, made a satisfied harrumph sound, and returned to the other dragons where they played in the soft sand.

“Where did you live?” Liara looked around the big cavern.

“Oh, it’s this way.” Renata stood and led them down a passage.

The room was bare and large, though nowhere near as big as the other room. There was another tunnel to who knows where, and a large opening to the outside. The floor was more of dirt and gravel than anything else. A ring of stones, darkened by fire, sat near the center of the room. Cold ashes lay within.

As there wasn’t much to see, a few minutes later, they stood in the cave mouth staring out across the semi-arid desert.

“The Kas-Tella desert goes on just like this for miles and miles,” Renata said. “The farther you go west, though, the drier it becomes. Eventually you’ll hit the salt flats and beyond them, the Shining Sands.”

“This is where you lived, alone, for weeks?” Jessip looked about.

“Yes.”

Aeron glanced at Renata. That such a small word could carry so much weight. He looked back at the empty room. All alone, for over a month. No laundry, no Dining Hall, no water closets or a Bath Hall. Nothing. Just dirt, cacti, rocks, and the sun. And no one to talk to, either. He shook his head and turned to her. “You’re a pretty strong person.”

Renata’s gaze flicked from Aeron to Jessip and she smiled.

Jessip returned the smile. “So I keep telling her.”

“Can we go back to the top where we landed?” Fillion was digging in his carryall. “I think that would be the best place to use for portals.” He removed his gateway sketchbook. “I want to get back, soon, and see how Gregor’s getting on with his project.”

“Sure.” Renata led them back.

Aeron tilted his head. “Researching . . . salt was it?”

Fillion nodded. “Yeah, salt mixed with sand. He’s trying to determine which beach it came from.”

Aeron laughed as they followed Renata down the passage. “I don’t envy him that task. There are a lot of beaches, I would imagine.” He looked at Fillion. “Does this have anything to do with that trip the three of you took to Delcimaar?”

Fillion looked apprehensive. “Sort of,” he said. “We’re not supposed to talk about it.” He avoided their gazes as they walked along the tunnel. “I wish I could tell you guys about it, but we were given specific orders not to.”

“Orders?” Aeron’s brows rose. “From who?”

Fillion fidgeted. “Well, the Guildmaster for one, and—” He sighed. “I can’t say who else.”

Aeron grunted. Who could give them those kinds of orders? Hells, who could give them orders at all? It wasn’t Lord Baronel, he didn’t think. Fillion wouldn’t have hesitated to name the lord of the Caer.

“We’re heading back out to the top,” Aeron said in passing to Anaya. “As much as you guys like to lay in the sun, I’m surprised you all didn’t go back up there.”

The dragons sat up and stared at each other. After a unanimous chirp, they all followed.

Once outside, the dragonlinked began making their sketches.

“It’s a little barren, kind of,” Jessip said, large pad in one hand, pencil in the other. He was standing next to Renata. “Still, it’s beautiful. Like you.” He leaned closer to her.

She pushed him back, laughing. “Leave off, you big oaf. I’m trying to sketch this.”

Jessip laughed and resumed his drawing.

“He’s right,” Willem murmured.

Aeron looked at him.

“As desolate and, I don’t know—lonely?—as this place is, it has a certain majesty, almost.”

With a smile, Aeron said, “That it does.”

“It may sound silly . . .” Polandra said. Then she looked around at the others, and it seemed like she was embarrassed that she’d said anything.

“What?” Liara smiled.

Polandra cleared her throat. “I, ah, have this dream. A hope, I guess. Isandath told me of this place, of Renata staying in these caves as she waited for Nayra. So, Ikan and I visited here before we left for the North. I really like it here, and, it may be a silly dream, but, I want this place to once again be a home for dragons.” She looked up at the bright blue. “I want the sky to be full of them, spiraling, soaring, with happy voices calling to each other.”

That is not a silly dream.
Ikan lifted his head and turned to his bond-mate.

“No,” Liara said, “it is not.”

As the others packed up their things, Willem walked over. “You be careful,” he said. “My heart nearly stopped when Balam told me Anaya had been attacked.”

“We will.” Aeron embraced him. “Hemet is almost new, so it will be fairly dark before Duvin rises tonight. We should be able to get close safely.”

When they separated, Willem said, “It feels like I’m going to have to take new measurements of everyone for new gear. The hand-to-hand training is building muscle.”

Aeron moved his arms around and felt the riding jacket tight at his shoulders, arms, and chest. He chuckled. “So it seems.”

Willem glanced at Polandra, a strange expression on his face. He turned to Anaya. “You be safe, too, hear? Bring yourself and Aeron home to us, after.”

Anaya chirped.

Aeron stared at Willem. What had that expression been?

Elbows on the desk, Millinith rested her face in her hands. Earlier, she spoke to the guards. While on duty, they were not to leave their posts under any circumstances unless instructed to do so. There would be no more attacks on dragons if she could help it.

The damage to the loading stable wasn’t too great. Master Doronal and the two sorcerers had arrived in time to stop the fire before it spread too far. All the hay that had been stored outside was ruined, however. The stench of burnt grass was thick in all of it. Most of the horses wouldn’t go anywhere near the hay that survived, so it was thrown in the Caer compost heaps. And the smell of burned wood meant the horses had to be put in stalls on the south side of the loading stables, away from where the fire had been. Hopefully the scent of smoke on the north end of the building would clear soon. All the wood that had actually been burned had been removed, and even at this hour, sounds of workers finishing up repairs could be heard.

All that damage, all the potential lives lost, horse or otherwise, had merely been a diversion for the attempt on Anaya’s life. The attack left Millinith feeling violated. Someone had come into their home, the place she felt safe, and tried to kill one of their own.

She completely agreed with Aeron, Willem, and the others. If she could, she’d have them fly to Bataan-Mok and beat the Nesch to within and inch of his life. She couldn’t, however. Thanks to Renata and Polandra, they knew a little of what manisi were capable of. Millinith was not going to send any one of her people there until she knew more about where things stood with the Order.

Perhaps Cheddar could check if there was anything in the Caer library about the organization. Any information on them would serve. She hoped Isandath would have something for Polandra and Aeron.

Her stomach rumbled and she frowned. There hadn’t been time yet to eat dinner.

She raised her head. “Damn.” Had they taken any food with them?

The door creaked open. Looking over, she saw a young man poke his head in the room. “Pardon me. Guildmaster Millinith? The guards said this was the place.” His light-brown hair, almost a sandy blond, was clipped short.

“I am she. How can I help you?” Was he was another candidate hopeful?

“Excellent.” He closed the door behind him and approached her. “My name is Liflin, Adept Sorcerer Liflin. I do apologize for the hour. The stage threw a wheel this morning and put us half a day behind. Master Enora said I should come see about a position in the guild.”

“You know Enora?”

“She was one of my instructors, actually.”

Enora? An instructor? Well, perhaps it wasn’t so far-fetched. Enora had been good at keeping on Millinith to study. She smiled. “How is she doing?”

“Uh, well, I guess?” He shrugged.

Millinith chuckled. “I’m sorry. Of course you wouldn’t know much of the personal lives of your instructors.” She leaned back in the chair. “We do have openings for instructors of our own, as it stands. I assume you are applying for one of those positions?”

“Yes, ma’am.”

“How old are you, Adept Liflin?”

“Seventeen, ma’am.”

“Have you any background in Animal Craft?”

“Yes, ma’am, I do. Journeyman rank.”

“Outstanding. Our instructors will need cross-training. They all need to be at least familiar with the various disciplines the candidates will be learning.”

“Candidates?”

“Our guild’s term for accepted who will eventually become dragonlinked. Not all accepted will.”

“I see.” He nodded. “What other crafts will I be cross-trained in?” He raised a hand. “Ah, should I be hired, of course.”

“Leather Craft, Investigation Craft, and Healing Craft. At least for now. We’re still learning about dragons ourselves, truth be told.”

An enormous smile spread across his face. “Dragons.” He shook his head. “We heard about the guild, of course. But if I hadn’t seen a few outside, I’d imagine this was all some fantastic dream.”

Millinith smiled. “It may seem like a dream, many times. And sometimes, perhaps a nightmare.”

“Nightmare?”

“Earlier today, someone tried to kill one of our dragons.”

“What?” A faint pulse of magic came from him.

“Calm yourself, Liflin. The man was . . . dealt with. He will not trouble us ever again.”

The magic faded. “Why would anyone . . . I mean . . . dragons are so . . .” He shook his head. “Why?”

“There is apparently an organization that feels dragons are evil.” She opened a drawer and removed an employment application.

“Evil?”

She handed him the form. “Fill this out. If you’re approved—and if Enora recommended you to come, I think you very well might be—we can talk more about the interesting life of a Dragon Craft member.”

Millinith explained where the Housing Hall was and who to speak with there and sent Liflin on his way. At least he was qualified. There were many who’d inquired that had no useful skills whatsoever.

Master Doronal walked in from the dragon den. “I see you had a visitor.” He carried a large tray heaped high with food and drink.

She laughed. “What are you doing?”

“You need to eat.”

She raised a brow. “Oh?”

“You’re too thin, and you’re not getting enough sleep, I think. You look terrible.”

“I don’t look terrible.” She crossed her arms and slouched in the chair. “Besides, I’ve been a little busy.” She’d only skipped—what?—one or two meals? Hmm. No, it was actually more than that. As Master Doronal set the tray on one of the tables and began unloading it, she took a quick glimpse at her arms and hands. They
were
thin. And he’d noticed.

“Get over here and eat, Guildmaster.” He smiled at her. “It’s a little humorous, don’t you think,
me
getting after
you
for not eating?”

She grunted and stood. “You used to skip meals all the time.” Walking over, she stared at the fare spread out on the table. “Good gods, man, do you expect me to eat all that?”

“Sit.” He pointed to the chair in front of her. “I’ll be joining you for dinner, if that’s alright?”

She paused in sitting down and looked up at him. “Oh. No, that would actually be nice.” She sat and scooted the chair closer to the table. “You carried all this from the Dining Hall?”

“Honestly? It was pretty heavy.” He chuckled. “It’s worth it, though.” He glanced at her and back at his meal. “I, ah, could use the exercise.”

She raised a brow. “Exercise. Right.”

They ate, talked, and laughed, and she groused about various things, voiced her concerns about others, and through it all, relaxed.

+ + + + +

“Shrewd. That’s what you are.”

Takatin swirled the wine in his goblet. The man wasn’t wrong.

“Retaining the rights to minerals, ores, and such, on the purchased land was brilliant.” Pivin smiled. “It makes my boss frown every time he remembers it.”

“That kind of provision isn’t unusual. And twenty percent is not that much. National Transportation gets the dragon’s share at eighty percent.” Takatin sipped from the goblet. “Who knew something so interesting would be found on land deemed nearly worthless.”

“Something so profitable. And dangerous.” Pivin’s gaze hadn’t changed much, and his lips still curved in a slight smile, but he suddenly looked sinister.

Takatin looked down at the goblet. Profitable? The money meant nothing to him. But he had to keep up appearances for now. “Wonderfully profitable, yes. And as I’ve told you before, my people will keep the true nature of what was discovered from the rest of the Order. So have no fear on that point.” He looked up. “It is humorous, though. Just after its founding, the Corpus Order was actually
given
this land because no one thought it of much use.”

Pivin grunted. “It’s valuable for its location alone. Once the mine is played out, we’ll return to building the rail line. Unlike mules or horses, our locomotives can cross the desert easily and quickly here. Locomotives don’t get sick, either.” The man frowned.

When he’d first approached the Corpus Order, Takatin had Pivin shuffled around to various umeri, hoping he’d get frustrated and leave. He had not, however, and Takatin eventually had to meet with the man. It turned out to be one of the more fortuitous moments of Takatin’s life.

Pivin had explained their desire to build metal rails, tracks, across the desert, and why. National Transportation had nearly been wiped out by the equine flu. If it weren’t that they’d already begun working with the new locomotives, the company would have failed. They wanted to buy a narrow strip of land across the flats and were prepared to pay a good amount. Takatin saw in this proposal a way to further strengthen his plans: money. So he’d made a side-agreement with the company and then shepherded the land purchase through the umeri voting process. He’d since learned that National Transportation had made use of less than legal means to get to where they stood now. Not that Takatin cared. They’d serve their purpose.

He looked at Piven and nodded. “Getting goods to and from the far South without having to go hundreds or thousands of miles around the desert will save a great deal time.”

“And time is money.” The man drained his goblet. “Speaking of which, was there anything else? I need to get back to the mine.”

“We do have a concern.”

“About?”

“The number of supposed victims.” Takatin set his cup down. “There are getting to be too many.”

“Fear keeps people away from the flats.”

“It does,” Takatin allowed. “However, too many deaths by dragon could draw the scrutiny of the Dragon Craft Guild. We do not need that.” He stared at the goblet. Attention would be needed, and lots of it. Just not quite yet. “You need to curtail the supposed deaths your people feign, at least for a while. Because of the dragon guild, yes, but also for the fact that people will start to wonder exactly who it is that’s dying. If no one is missing, who’s being killed?”

“Maybe we should kill a couple of people from the villages.”

“You can’t snatch people from the villages and kill them.” Fool. They needed less attention for a time, not more. Takatin leaned back in the chair. “Only people wandering near the flats should be dying, remember? No, your current tactics are working fine. Just scale them back a bit.”

“Why all the concern about how we handle things? You have your own issues to deal with. Have you discovered the little bird in your garden?”

“The Observers have learned nothing of this person, as of yet.”

Pivin glanced at Chu’a, briefly. “I find it more than a little uncomfortable that anyone in Bataan-Mok could be an Observer, watching, listening, and reporting. Especially now that everyone here seems so tense.”

While it was true that the atmosphere in the Order was increasingly anxious, that would soon serve Takatin well. People on edge made rash decisions. “Observers report to me, and I only pass on to the Capu what I think he should know. So you need not worry about Chu’a. Besides which, all the stewards are deaf.”

“They might be able to read lips.”

“I’d be surprised if none of them could, to be honest. Why do you think I always sit with my back to him during meetings?”

Pivin chuckled. “Shrewd, like I said.” He stood. “I’ll talk to my people. You find your little bird. And when you do, make sure it can’t sing to anyone anymore.”

+ + + + +

“The sunsets are beautiful here.” Aeron stared at the incredible colors bursting forth from the horizon. As the sun slowly sank, the streaming rays of light were like lances lifting higher and higher, until they speared the darkening heavens directly above.

“I think it seems more dramatic because from way up here,” Polandra gestured to the heights upon which they stood, “the horizon is nearly flat.”

Aeron nodded. That was possible. At Caer Baronel, the valley walls and especially the trees made it difficult to see the entire sunset as it progressed.

“I have to say,” Polandra stared at the horizon where yellows faded to golds and deep reds, “I am impressed with your self-control.”

“Self-control?”

“I don’t know that I would be as, ah . . . steady . . . as you, if it had been Ikan that man had tried to kill.”

“If you could feel what I feel, you might think differently. I’ve been a complete fool, an idiot.”

You are not an idiot. Your heart is big and you think the best of people. Not all people are as good as you think they are. Which is a shame.

Aeron turned to Anaya. “But if I had just
thought
about it
, that man would not have gotten anywhere close to you.” He shook his head. “I guess it
is
a shame I think everyone is good.”

“That is not what she meant.” Polandra turned to him. “What is a shame is that not everyone is as good as you think they are.”

Anaya rumbled in agreement.

Aeron frowned. Maybe he should start thinking everyone was bad. Then, when it turned out they were, he’d be less disappointed.