A Storm in the Desert: Dragonlinked Chronicles Voume 3 (17 page)

“Renata was right. They plagiarized it.”

“It sure looks like it.”

She sat back in the chair. “So, if this creation story is real, then dragons are just as natural as, well, as we are.”

“Hmm? Yeah, I guess so. A little more made for a purpose than us, but, yeah.”

She smiled. “Alright. I’m going get back to those books, see what else I can find before lessons start. We’ve got just over half an hour.”

Aeron and Polandra were meeting with Isandath again in less than a week. The more she and Cheddar could dig up about the Order for them, the better.

+ + + + +

Gregor sat on the clay floor of the den, staring at Kisa. She lay on her stomach beside him, fast asleep. Her furled wings moved slightly with each slow breath she took.

Coatl lay nearby, a mountain to her hill. Gold eyes glittering, he, too, watched her sleep.

Movement drew Gregor’s gaze.

Snow slinked over, sinuous and relaxed. The young cat, Fillion named him after his coloring, had just showed up one day, most likely from the Animal Craft barn. They had been ambivalent about the silly thing, but surprisingly, Coatl took to the mouser almost immediately.

Purring, Snow rubbed his cheek on Gregor’s leg.

Gregor gave the cat’s head a little scritch and a quick stroke. “Keep quiet, now. Kisa is sleeping.”

Still purring, Snow walked off and lay next to Coatl, leaning against his left foreleg. The white cat let out a little chirp, which Coatl answered.

A quiet gurgle from her stomach drew Gregor’s attention back to Kisa. He smiled. She was such a little pig when it came to eating. But it was fine. She needed to eat in order to grow and get stronger, after all.

He studied her sleeping form. She lay on her stomach, leaning very slightly to the right. Her delicate wings were furled on her back. One, the left, hung a little lower, almost touching the ground. Her tail curved around legs and forelegs, nearly touching her nose. Small paws rested one atop the other under her chin.

She was so small, so vulnerable, and so . . . amazing.

Fillion walked in and squatted next to them.

Gregor glanced at him.

Fillion took one look at his face and smiled. “I know,” he whispered. They turned back to the sleeping dragon.

There was something so relaxing, Gregor thought, so peaceful about just being here right now.

It frightened him, too. Such tranquility never lasted long. Watching her, he said, “I am so happy she chose me, and so terrified.”

“That precious, adorable life is in your hands.”

“What if I fail her?”

Fillion grabbed his hand and squeezed it. “You won’t,” he said.

Coatl lifted his head and looked out the doors behind them. Fillion turned as well.

Gregor turned and blinked at the figure standing there. What in Yrdra’s deepest hells? “Father?”

“Hello, Gregor.” Lord Eldin’s gaze flicked to their clasped hands. “Guildmaster Millinith said I’d find you here.” He glanced about the den. “What is this place?”

Gregor stood. “We live here, for now, until housing is available in the Guildhall. I moved in this past weekend, actually.”

“
We
live here
?”

“My boyfriend and our dragons.”

He’d never seen his father’s face contort as it did now. It looked like he couldn’t decide which question to ask first.

Gregor gestured. “Fillion, this is my father, Lord Eldin.” He smiled at his father. “Sir, this is Fillion, my boyfriend.”

“Lord Eldin,” Fillion said, an enormous smile on his face.

His father finally found his tongue. “Your mother will be happy to learn that you are seeing someone.” Lord Eldin turned to Fillion. “I seem to recall you from the guild approval meeting.”

Fillion’s smiled faded. “Oh, I was there. I remember everything about the meeting.” There was a hint of tension in his voice.

After a glance at Fillion’s clothes, Lord Eldin said, “And what does your family do? Are you all crafters?”

Gregor was suddenly angry. That was just like the man. Only concerned with status. “Don’t worry, sir.” The contempt he felt wasn’t entirely absent from his tone. “His father is Lord of Cotter’s Grove.”

“Oh, no, you mistake me. Your mother would not let me hear the end of it if I didn’t find out something about your boyfriend.”

Gregor pressed his lips together.

“Cotter’s Grove will go to one of my elder siblings,” Fillion said. “I am currently an Accepted Dragonlinked. Coatl,” he called out, a little louder, “come meet Gregor’s father.”

The mahogany dragon stood and walked over. He sat on his haunches and rumbled at their visitor.

Lord Eldin seemed unsure how to proceed. “It’s a, ah, pleasure to meet you, Coatl.” He stared at the dark brown dragon for a moment before he noticed Kisa, asleep inside. “Is that your dragon, Gregor? She’s so much smaller.”

“She’s not even three weeks old, father.”

“Attractive little beasty.”

“Dragons are not beasts,” Fillion said.

“Dragons are people.” Gregor slightly emphasized the last word. “You’d do well to remember that, father.”

“The boy, Aeron, said something of the sort at the meeting.” Lord Eldin turned to him. “I have to say, it will take some doing to convince me of that.”

Stranger things have happened.

Gregor chuckled. At the same time, Fillion burst into laughter.

Lord Eldin looked to Fillion and back to him. “Having a little fun at the expense of your father? Was that you?”

“Oh, no, sir. That was Coatl.”

The mahogany dragon let out his own grunting laughter.

Lord Eldin turned to Coatl. Brows drawn together in apparent speculation, he said, “Was it now?”

“You didn’t mention why you were here,” Gregor said. He doubted the man had come all this way just to see his son. His estranged son.

“Willem brought me here at the behest of your Guildmaster. The guild and I will be doing business, it seems.”

Ah, yes. The patrols.

Fillion frowned. “Business? What business would we have with
you
?”

Lord Eldin turned on him. “If one wants respect, one should give it as well.”

The muscles of Fillion’s jaw worked, and then he said, “My apologies . . . sir.”

Lord Eldin stared at him a moment, and nodded. “I suggest you ask the details of your Guildmaster, but my rail lines will be patrolled by dragonlinked.”

Fillion’s brows drew together. He was no doubt wondering why the Guildmaster would have anything to do with the man who’d fought so hard against them.

Lord Eldin turned to him. “I’m sure you’ll receive a letter or two from your mother wanting to know more of the recent changes in your life. She sends her love, by the way.”

“I was going to send a letter,” Gregor said. “Once things settled down a bit.”

Lord Eldin blinked. “Of course. Your mother also wanted me to tell you that we will be visiting soon. Very soon, I expect, once she learns about . . . everything. At any rate, it’s time I returned. Where would I find Willem?”

Gregor pointed to the building next door. “The far door, there, leads to their study.” As his father began to turn away, he said, “Give mom my love. And Elise.”

Lord Eldin looked back. “I will.” He glanced at Fillion and bowed his head. “Accepted Fillion.”

Fillion bowed his head back. “Lord Eldin.”

His father then turned to the mahogany dragon and bowed his head. “Coatl.”

Coatl chirped at him.

Lord Eldin stared at the dragon and then walked away.

Gregor watched his father leave. He felt like he should tell him that he loved him, that he missed him. But he wasn’t sure anymore that he did.

“Sorry about that.”

Gregor looked at Fillion. “About what?”

“He just has this way of getting on my nerves.”

“You are not in the minority there. But if that’s the case, why did you have such a big smile when I introduced you to him?”

Fillion’s face blazed crimson. “No reason.”

Gregor laughed. “And now you’re red as a sunburn. What gives?”

“It’s just . . .” Fillion looked at the ground. “That was the first time you called me your boyfriend.”

It was physically impossible, Gregor knew, but his heart did a cartwheel anyway. “You are an amazing collection of contradictions.”

Fillion looked at him. “What’s that mean?”

“You’re always surprising me.”

“Is that good?” It looked like he wasn’t sure.

Gregor chuckled. “Yes. Yes, it is.”

A few minutes later, as Balam lifted Willem and his father into the sky, Gregor wondered when the CTC patrols would start, and how they would be fit into the already busy schedules of the few dragonlinked who could fly them.

Aeron smiled. Willem helping him saddle his bond-mate reminded him of when he and Anaya were the only two who’d been bonded. Aeron watched him check everything over. Twice.

“Where’s your bo?” Willem tapped the strap on the saddle that would hold the wooden staff.

“Right here.” Aeron grabbed the bo from where it leaned on the wall.

Willem slipped it through the strap and then slid its end into the six inch leather pocket, securing the weapon to the saddle. He turned and looked Aeron over. “And your gloves?”

Aeron chuckled. “In my pockets.” He pulled out part of a glove to show him. “Where they always are before Anaya and I take off.”

As Willem helped him open the dragon doors, he said, “You haven’t changed one bit. Always making sure I didn’t forget something.”

Willem twisted his lips into a crooked smile. “I can’t help it.”

“I’m not complaining. It’s kind of cute. Though I am glad you don’t do it every single time Anaya and I go somewhere.”

“Well, as exciting as your trips are down there, I don’t like how close you two get to the Order. They sent someone to kill Anaya.”

His bond-mate turned to Willem and chirped.

Aeron patted her on the neck. “Anaya and Ikan don’t get very close. Polandra and I walk the last few miles to the village, which itself is a few miles from Bataan-Mok.”

As they walked out the doors, Aeron spied Polandra and Ikan across the courtyard. The Guildmaster was talking with Polandra while Renata and Liara stood by.

“Hemet is nearly full,” Willem said, “so you’ll need to be extra cautious tonight.”

Aeron embraced him. “We’ll be careful.” He released Willem, grabbed his shoulders, and looked him in the eyes. “I promise.”

“You’d better.”

Balam rumbled from the doors.

Anaya glanced at the green dragon and gave him a half-rumble, half-chirp.

Willem walked over to Balam and leaned back against him. The two of them, standing there, looking worried, made Aeron’s throat a little tight.

We are very lucky.

Aeron nodded.
Yes, we are.
He climbed into the saddle.

Anaya walked closer to the middle of the courtyard and they waited for Polandra and Ikan.

At the south end of the yard, Fillion, Gregor, and Coatl watched from just outside their stable. Kisa was probably already asleep for the night. A faint smile curved Aeron’s lips as he remembered how Anaya used to just eat and sleep all the time. Jessip walked to the bench outside the stable he and Renata shared and sat. Zolin and Xochi were sitting on the ground, nearby. They all watched Renata.

I am in love with Balam.

Aeron’s brows rose and he looked at Anaya.
You are? That’s great!

I was not certain of it until today.

Did you think you wouldn’t love him? I thought you said that dragons could love any dragon?

I did say that. But . . . I meant like the love of the sun in your face, the wind under your wings, or the love you and I have for each other.

Oh. You didn’t know that dragons could fall in love?

From when we first met, I could feel what you felt for Willem, what he feels for you, and thus I knew what it meant, but I did not understand the full extent of it until now. I have not been able to find this same feeling in any of my memories.

Dragons have never been in love before? How . . . terrible.

I would not call it terrible. We managed to survive.
There was a hint of amusement from the link.

Do you think falling in love is something allowed by the Bond?

I am not sure. Perhaps. Or perhaps dragons have never been able to feel . . . safe enough before, feel comfortable enough, to allow someone to get this close to their heart.
Anaya glanced at Balam.

Aeron recognized the strong emotion that came through the link. He looked at Willem and smiled.
Now you understand why I asked you, all those months ago, if you minded that I felt this way for Willem.

I do.
She turned her head and looked up at him.
And you do not mind that I feel this way for Balam?
Her beautiful eyes, dark amber in the dim light, glittered with reflected stars.

Of course not, dear-heart, it’s the opposite. I’m very happy for you. We are one, now, more than ever.

This is true.
She rumbled happily.

When Polandra, Ikan and Millinith joined them, the Guildmaster talked their ears off for what seemed like hours before she let them go. She’d talked so long that Aeron wondered what more she could have had to say to Polandra beforehand.

What it boiled down to was this: find out everything they could about those factions, find out if there was any other way they could make use of Isandath’s help, and most importantly, be careful.

Aeron sighed. Everyone kept telling him to be careful. But it was like Willem himself said, no one is ever completely safe, we just do the best we can. Working with Isandath, going down there, was part of that.

Hemet loomed higher in the night sky when they emerged from the portal, and it was a bit warmer, too. Glancing down, he grew alarmed at just how lit up the area was. Then he realized why. There were no dark trees. The ground itself wasn’t as dark as it was up in the North, either. The soil and rocks reflected the light from the moon and stars and made everything seem brighter.

We really are going to have to be careful. It’s damn bright at night down here.

It is.

Ikan banked to the right and headed off. Anaya followed. Once more, they stuck to ravines when they could, small canyons, keeping below ground level as they flew. Polandra and Ikan took them a different route this time. Sooner than Aeron expected, they landed.

“We’re just at the edge of where the manis patrols range,” Polandra said as they both donned their robes. “With as much moonlight as there is tonight, I don’t think we should fly any closer. We’ll have to walk farther, so we should start immediately.” She grabbed her satchel and slung it over her shoulder. She placed her hand on Ikan’s neck. “Wait for me here. We’ll be back as soon as we can.”

The brown dragon rumbled and rubbed his enormous cheek against hers.

Aeron grabbed his own carry-all.
Be safe, dear-heart.

And you, as well.

Aeron fidgeted with Renata’s robe. It actually fit him alright, he just wasn’t fond of the color, rose—a not quite pink shade. He liked greens or browns, better. Polandra wore the same robe as she had last time, too. It was pale yellow, almost cream. It went rather well with her more tanned skin. She set off along the dry riverbed, and he followed.

When Aeron thought of a desert, sand and sand dunes came to mind, and the sun blazing overhead. This place was mostly dirt and rocks. Here and there a scraggly plant with airs of being a bush poked out from the dry soil. And, too, there were various kinds of cacti. Those he kept well clear of.

Some kind of sound, almost like crazed laughter, made him stop. “What was that?”

“A coyote.” Polandra glanced back at him. “It’s a kind of canine, like the wolves you have up north, but skinnier and with shorter fur.”

“Oh.” Aeron glanced around and hurried to catch up to her. “Their barking howls are pitched higher than wolves.”

“Yeah. Feeling sore?”

Aeron glanced at her. “Hmm?”

“You were rubbing your shoulder.”

“Oh, yeah, a little.”

She smiled. “How do you like the fight training?”

“Love it, actually. I kind of like the soreness. Well, the soreness now.” He remembered the first week of training, even before it was official. Everyone had to make liberal use of pain salve. Whenever they had gathered, it had smelled like a forest because of the salve’s woody scent wafting off everyone. “Though, when I fail to block, the contact still leaves a bruise.”

Polandra chuckled. “Block better.”

He laughed. “Good advice. I’d say everyone enjoys the training, to be honest. My favorite part is bo training.”

“Oh?”

“Yeah. It’s almost like a dance with the weapon. You glide from position to position, from stance to stance. The attacks, the motions, are very fluid. They flow, one to the next.”

She glanced at him and nodded. “That’s exactly right.”

As beautiful as someone practicing with the bo could be, the thing was still a weapon. It could break bones and kill. The memory of the exploding melon and what it stood for still made Aeron squirm. Even so, as Renata had discovered, it could definitely help when fighting nahual. And manisi, too. Or at least he hoped it would.

“Once you all are a little farther along in training, Guildmaster Millinith said I could teach you some manis sorcery. Well, at least how to counter their spells. And, too, there is that ability I mentioned.”

“Which one?”

“It’s called sliding.”

“Sliding?”

“Yeah. Watch.” Polandra moved off to the side. “Ready?”

Aeron nodded. “Yeah.” What was she going to do?

Polandra crouched slightly. There was a pulse of magic power, and suddenly, she slid along the ground toward him.

Mouth wide open, Aeron stared. He could see no method by which she was pushing herself. She was just . . . sliding, and quickly. In less than two seconds she was beside him, her bo at his neck.

“H–How did you do that?”

“I slid.” Smiling, she returned the bo to her back and continued up the dry riverbed.

“That was the most golden thing ever!”

“Golden?”

“It’s an expression. It means amazing, incredible, beyond stupendous.”

“I see. Well, it can be, ah, golden, if used correctly. If not, it can land you on your ass, the back of your head bouncing on the ground as you get dragged along.”

Sliding was a great skill! He couldn’t wait to learn it. Ideas on how to use it kept popping into Aeron’s head the entire way to the village.

Polandra led them to the same booth tucked in the back corner as before. This time, however, she motioned for him to slide onto the bench that faced the room.

She sat next to him. “This way, you won’t have to crane your neck around to watch people, and I won’t have to kick you when you do.”

He frowned. Did he look that much the tourist last time? “Whatever.”

“And don’t talk very loud either. Your accent will give you away.”

“I don’t have an accent.”

She chuckled. “Uh, yeah, you do.”

“You have an accent, not me.”

“Everyone has an accent. They just don’t realize it because people where they are from talk the same way they do.”

“Hmm.” Did he sound weird to Renata and Polandra? Not that they sounded weird to him, they just sounded . . . different.

They didn’t have to wait long for Isandath.

“Hello, friends.” He smiled as he slid in across from them. “I have news.”

“Oh?” Aeron sat forward, elbows on the table.

“Yes. But first—” Isandath turned around and waved down a server. As the girl made her way over, he glanced back at them and asked, “Same dish as before?”

Aeron nodded eagerly. It had been delicious.

“Please.” Polandra smiled.

When the server left, Isandath lowered is voice. “That third faction within the Corpus Order appears to be working with outside people, a company.”

“Which company?” Aeron, mindful of Polandra’s request, kept his voice low.

“National Transportation. The Laminae provided the name to me.”

“How did they learn of it?” Polandra asked.

“They secretly control the Observers, remember? And they have their own eyes-and-ears beyond those. They even learned of our first meeting.”

Aeron glanced about the room. Was someone here, now, a spy? Was there more than one?

“Have no worries, though. That information will never reach the ears of the Nesch or the Capu.”

“It’s good that the Laminae believe as we do,” Aeron said. “Do they have their own plans?”

“They do, I’m sure of it.” Isandath frowned. “They have yet to inform me of them, however. But, I am positive their plans will align with our goal. That is the overall purpose of the Laminae, after all. But with so much unease in the Order, I hope their plans are already in motion.”

“Where do the factions stand?” Polandra said. “I mean, how many people follow each one?”

“The old guard is actually gaining popularity because of the deaths near the flats. The claim that dragons are perpetrating them only reinforces what the old guard believes.”

“We need to—” Aeron closed his mouth. Their server was approaching, a tray with their bowls of stew balanced on her shoulder.

Isandath followed his gaze. “Ah! Excellent.” He rubbed his hands together.

Once the bowls were laid out, the girl smiled. “Anything else for you, Uncle?”