A Storm in the Desert: Dragonlinked Chronicles Voume 3 (21 page)

Head still facing Lonato, Cirtis turned his eyes to Anais and said, “That lip color suits you.”

The steward’s gaze flicked down to the boy before staring back ahead.

If Cirtis hadn’t already been watching, he’d have missed the quick movement of the eyes. A smile curved his lips.

“It does?”

Cirtis, looking back at the boy, said, “Yes, it does.”

Lonato, seated across the table from him, smiled and began filling his plate. “That is good. I bought it in the village today but wasn’t entirely sure if it would suit.”

He’d remove it tonight after retiring to his room and wouldn’t put any more on until tomorrow night. Lip coloring wasn’t part of a pesan uniform, after all.

Cirtis took a breath. It was time to throw the dice. “I envy you, you know.”

Brows raised, the boy said, “You do, Capu?”

“You can be yourself, in a way, at least while in my rooms.”

“And you cannot, Capu?”

“You would think that being the leader of the Corpus Order meant that I could do whatever I wanted, wouldn’t you?”

“Of course.” The boy nodded and bit a strawberry.

Cirtis sighed. “It is, in fact, the complete opposite. I am bound by rules and tradition. There is much I’d like to change about the Order, and it feels as if many of our members want to change, too. Unfortunately, my hands are tied. I fear I will not be able to save us.”

Lonato tilted his head. “We need saving?”

“Do you love your parents?”

The boy looked confused. “I, ah, yes. Yes, I do.”

“How would you feel if you found out they were not your parents? How would you feel if something that fundamental to your being turned out to be a lie?”

“Capu?”

“The world is changing, Lonato. If we do not change as well, it could mean the end of the Corpus Order.”

“The end of the Order?” Long lashes framed eyes wide with fear.

“Ah, but now I’ve frightened you. I’m sorry. Let us eat and talk of other things.”

The slight shift he’d noted in Anais’s breathing could be good. Of course, it could also be bad. The knife’s edge separating the two made Cirtis’s heart beat faster than it had in many a year.

The manis should return soon, if he was successful. And hopefully, so, too, would the dragon boy. Which is why Cirtis had to do this. He needed people who could move in the dark, who could see things and do things that he could not. He was gambling with his life and the very existence of the Corpus Order.

How would the dice come up? Ulthis’s Eyes, or Yrdra’s Gate?

“It took you long enough to respond to my request.” Nesch Takatin took a sip of iced cider. He would have preferred chilled wine, but it was too early for such, and, too, he wanted his wits about him for this meeting.

Pivin frowned. “The delivery date fast approaches. I’ve been busy at the mines. What was so important anyway?” His brows raised. “Did you find your bird?”

Takatin waved that question away. “The bird shouldn’t trouble you anymore.”

The company man mistook the meaning. “Outstanding.”

“That wasn’t why I wished to meet with you, however. What do you know of the Dragon Craft Guild?”

Pivin shrugged. “Not much more than the fact that it exists. Why?”

“One of our patrols spotted a dragon, maybe even two, several nights ago.”

The man made a rude sound. “Sun-scrambled.”

Takatin controlled his temper. Pivin was an oaf, but there was something sinister about him. The man moved carefully and quietly. “It was at night.”

“People see all kinds of things in the desert. That’s one reason we’ve been so successful keeping people away from the flats.”

“Have you some way to create a dragon illusion?” Takatin was impressed. Such a thing could be useful.

“What? No. I merely meant that mirages make people see strange things.”

“Your people might be susceptible,” Takatin said, frowning, “but we’ve lived with mirages all our lives and are not confused by them. One of our manisi claims to have seen at least one dragon while out on patrol. If your people did not have anything to do with it, it concerns me. I’d hoped you knew something of the dragon guild, in case they had a hand in it somehow.”

“I did hear a rumor about them.”

“Oh?”

“Apparently, someone tried to kill one of their dragons.”

Takatin forced his hands to remain still. He should have positioned himself better beforehand. With a quick glance at Chu’a, he said, “Really? A lone person against a dragon? What became of the foolish individual?”

“From what I heard, he died in the attack.”

“A pity.”

“Hmm? Ah, yes. The Order hates dragons, doesn’t it?”

“And what of the dragon he attacked? Was it killed?”

“The rumor didn’t say one way or the other.”

“I see.” Takatin stared at the glass of cider. Could the guild have sent people down here? Dragons could fly quickly according to manisi training guides. Of course, a dragon hadn’t been seen in decades, flying or not, so he didn’t have first-hand knowledge of their abilities.

“Was that all?”

He looked up at Pivin. “I’m going to increase our patrols as much as we can and warn them to keep an eye out for dragons. You should see that yours do the same.”

“You need not tell us how to take care of issues that arise on our end. I handled the birder well before you took care of the bird.”

Takatin frowned. So that’s why he hadn’t heard from the man. That would make things much more difficult. “I’m not telling you how to run your people. I’m just letting you know that something may be afoot. You may choose to ignore my warning or not, as you see fit. We made money from the sale of the land. Whether or not you are successful at the mine matters not to us. That revenue is ancillary.”

Pivin chuckled. “Don’t get your robes in a bunch. I hear you.” Standing, he downed his iced cider. “Thanks for this. We don’t have many niceties at the camp.” He leaned down, set the glass on the table, and turned to leave. “I’ll speak to our patrols.”

After Piven left, Chu’a took the glasses and placed them on a side table.

The manis’s failure was disappointing, as was the other news. As far as the patrols, however . . .

He moved his hands and fingers, told Chu’a to summon the pesan. The steward returned with the girl a few minutes later.

“You called, Nesch Takatin?”

“Schedule a meeting this afternoon with Umeron Gomda. He and I need to talk about patrol routes.”

+ + + + +

It’s almost over, Willem kept repeating to himself. It’s almost over.

A thick arm of rock grew from the wall before them, stretched out, and then detached. The enchanting team ducked as it floated over and behind them, remolded into a slab, and sank to the ground next to the previous stack of granite blocks.

As the team worked, the pulses of magic that washed over Willem were heavy, insistent, and constant. It was as if the earth itself had an enormous heart, beating oh so loudly. The graceful lines of magic focus, arcing around them and through the rock walls, occasionally shivered in time to the pulsing.

Part of the reason Willem hated these shifts was that the area they worked in right now was incredibly cramped. The narrow tunnel was only three feet wide by seven feet tall, forcing the team to stand very close to each other as they created it. Adept Samuel, the team leader, even had to crouch slightly.

Once the underground passage neared the lake, a ward would be placed ahead of them to keep the lake water at bay while they completed the underwater opening. Then, the space would be reshaped as they retreated, forming two three-foot-diameter pipes, one atop the other, to bring water to the guildhall. When the pipes were completed and all were safe back in the water room, the ward would be removed and the pipes could then be used to fill the tanks.

That wouldn’t be for another week, though. Now, it was stand here, get drained, duck when needed, and move forward when enough new passage had been created. Dull in the extreme.

An enormous yawn escaped his control.

“Gods, man, don’t start that or you’ll have me doing the same.”

Willem glanced at Boyd, one of the other team members. “Sorry.”

“Not that I can blame you, eh?” Boyd sighed. “This isn’t the most exciting work a man has ever done.”

“You’ll both be happy enough to take a hot shower or a hot bath with the water these will provide.” Drinn frowned. Her lips were pressed together in a thin line.

“You speak Alandra’s own truth,” Boyd said, “but that doesn’t make this work any less boring.”

“Cut the chatter back there,” Samuel said, glancing back at them. “We’re almost done. Keep quiet for a little longer so I can concentrate and get to our finishing point for today.”

Willem shrugged and turned forward. He didn’t have much energy for talking anyway.

It’s almost over.

There is a surprise waiting for you when you are done.

Willem raised his brows.
A surprise? Like what?

If I told you, it would not be a surprise.

As tired as he was, Willem nearly couldn’t stifle the laugh. Even so, a snort still made it out.

Boyd glanced at him, a question in his eyes.

Willem opened his mouth, glanced at Samuel ahead of them, then mouthed slowly: my dragon.

Lips curved in a smile, Boyd nodded in understanding.

Everyone on the shift knew he was one of the dragonlinked, was a bonded dragonlinked. The pale skin at his wrists, bands of no pigmentation, were one clue, as was the riding gear he wore. Though, in these tight confines, he’d taken to leaving the riding jacket up top with the rest of his things. There had been many questions when he’d first started with this enchanting team, once they realized.

How much does Balam eat? How much does he weigh? Will he get larger? How often did dragons do it? Did the Bond hurt? Can he tell what Balam is doing right now? What is it like flying? Can
I
be a dragonlinked? How big is his—

He’d had to cut off some questions and had answered most as best he could, ignoring those he didn’t want to answer. When he introduced them to Balam, the big dragon’s announcement that they were all candidates made them quite happy. Willem warned them that applications weren’t currently being taken, but they were more than willing to wait until such time as they were. Which had not been all that surprising. One needed patience to survive enchanting shifts.

When today’s shift was survived, Willem let out a deep breath and headed up the passage with everyone else. The spring was definitely gone from all of their steps as they made their way to the water room. Once there, Willem grabbed his gear and headed for the nearest exit.

I’m on the way out.

It didn’t take long to get to the doors, but for a moment, Willem thought he’d gotten turned around in his exhaustion. The doorway was darker than it should be. The top half of the doors were glass, and through them, he expected to see the bright outdoors. Instead, it was dim. As he got closer, he realized why. It was snowing. A lot.

Surprise!

Willem stepped outside. Large, fluffy flakes fell silently from the gray sky. The serene quiet was disturbed only by the sound of large feet, shuffling.

Balam stood at the base of the steps. Feet in constant motion, bouncing with energy, his bond-mate stared at him as excitement came through the link.
We can play in the snow!

Oh sweetheart, I know how much you enjoy that, but can we wait until tomorrow? I’m really tired right now.

Balam’s feet stilled and his wings slumped.
I guess so.

I’m sorry, love. These enchanting shifts really take it out of me.

That is okay. We will have a lot of fun tomorrow.

Yes we will.

Fun they might have on the morrow, but flying in the snowstorm was proving to be anything but. Willem wiped his goggles once more.
We should portal back.

I will not. You are too tired.

He didn’t even bother arguing. Balam knew exactly how he felt.
Can you even see in this?

I can. Besides which, I know where I am going.

If you say so.
What of the others, though? Was the wagon back to the Caer going to be able to make it through this? The snow had already been a foot deep when they’d left. Some of the workers might end up spending the night at the Guildhall.
Should we go back and wait until the storm is over?

You will miss Aeron leaving if we do not get back soon.

Do you think they’ll still go with this weather?

I doubt it is snowing in the South.

Good point.
Willem forgot how different it was down there and how far away it actually was. Despite the fact that they could portal there instantly, it was practically a world away. It was more than likely warm and sunny down there. He tried not to feel jealous.

Some of the snow that had melted on the goggles was re-freezing. It was difficult to scrape the ice layer off. Willem wondered how Balam was able to see with all the snow, then he remembered the dragon’s inner eyelids, the transparent ones. They could be blinked to clear off any snow.

Already tired, clamping his thighs to the saddle and gripping tight to the hand-holds got even more difficult as the cold began to penetrate. Why hadn’t he thought to bring winter riding gear? He started to worry that this had been a terrible idea when the light of Caer Baronel pierced the snowy gloom ahead.

You’re the best, Balam.

A happy rumbled vibrated the saddle.

As they landed, Willem heard Aeron calling out.

“Anaya! Get your dragony butt over here, I need to saddle you up.”

A mass of dragons was romping in the deep snow of the courtyard. Happy chirps, rumbles, and clipped dragon laughs made clear just how much fun they were all having. One separated from the bunch and made its way to their stable.

Willem patted Balam on the neck.
There you go, love. Go have some fun in the snow with them.

Balam touched noses with Anaya as she passed, then, with an excited bark, he practically galloped over to the others. He jumped and half-glided into the middle of the dragons.

Through the falling snow, Willem was just able to spy other dragonlinked at their stables watching the dragons play.

“Ikan, you be careful, now, you’re a little bigger than them. I’ll give you five more minutes, then I have to saddle you, too.”

Polandra. Willem frowned and turned away. As he walked to the stable, he tried to clear his head. Thoughts of them having who knows what kind of adventures in the South kept plaguing him, however. He slid the doors mostly closed, leaving a gap to see and hear outside.

Aeron, checking the saddle on Anaya’s back, smiled at Willem. “Hey. I was worried that your shift would run long.”

“Nah. It went well, though I am exhausted.” Willem walked to the other side of Anaya to help. She touched his ear with her nose. He gave her a brief smile and a pat on the cheek before starting on the saddle. “I wish you didn’t have to go.”

Aeron yanked on a strap, checking if it was secure. “We have to find out what’s going on at the flats.”

“No, I mean, I wish you didn’t both have to go.”

“She knows the people down there and helps me fit in better.”

Willem closed his eyes. Aeron was frustratingly . . . nice. “I’m jealous, okay? I can’t stand how much time you spend with her having fun.” Opening his eyes revealed Aeron staring at him.