A Storm in the Desert: Dragonlinked Chronicles Voume 3 (41 page)

When he was done, Fillion stuffed the sketchbook back in the saddlebags. “So. There were no side-branches at all. What do you want to do?”

“I think we part ways here, for now.” She pointed to a distant cluster of buildings. “I’ll head to that village on foot, buy a horse, and head to Stronghold.”

He nodded.

“Don’t look so glum. This will likely be the last part of the investigation. National Transportation will pay for what they’ve done and what they were trying to do.”

“Good. Murderers should pay for their crimes.”

“I wouldn’t be anywhere this far along without your help, without Coatl’s help, and without the Dragon Craft Guild’s help. I’ll be sure to tell High Lady Hasana as much.”

Fillion smiled. “Guildmaster Millinith will be glad to hear that. And I want to thank you, too.”

“Oh?”

“I’m positive what I want to take as my secondary craft, now.”

She smiled. “Excellent. Good minds are always welcome in my line of work.” She walked over to Coatl and patted his shoulder. “Thank you, Coatl, for the rides.”

You are very welcome.

“Goodness!” She turned to Fillion, brows raised, and laughed. “I’ll let Guildmaster Millinith know when I’m ready to be picked up. In the meantime, fare thee well, Dragon, Dragonlinked.”

Coatl chirped.

“Take care, Master Gella.”

With a nod, the master investigator turned and started down the ridge.

+ + + + +

Takatin watched the runner leave. The boy, a pesan, had so much energy, so much passion for his duties, he couldn’t seem to keep still. After delivering the note, he’d bobbed a quick bow, smiled, and now he fairly ran for the door and the hallways beyond, no doubt eager to be running his next message.

There had been a time when Takatin felt the same, was the same. When he was that young, the Corpus Order had been all he’d wanted.

If I could just be part of those people, it would be amazing!

Takatin shook his head. How ingenuous he’d been. Life had seemed so simple. His desires had been so simple. It had taken him some time and far too many losses to realize that life was cruel and his desires had been foolish and naive.

He opened the sealed note.

Of course, while life was cruel, it didn’t really have an agenda, whereas—

As he read the short message, Takatin furrowed his brows. Cirtis was redirecting the manis patrols? No, the night patrol routes were merely being modified a bit. But why? And what was this about whistles? The note was to apprise him of these supposed minor changes, but Takatin wanted to know more before he allowed them to continue.

About to signal Chu’a to summon his pesan, Takatin lowered his hand and stood instead. The girl was off running errands. He’d have to visit the manisi unannounced. As he left the room, he signaled Chu’a that he’d return within the hour.

“Nesch Takatin!” Umeron Gomda stood and bowed his head an appropriate amount. “We didn’t expect you.” He’d sent the note, but feigned ignorance for others present.

Takatin glanced at the other umeron in the room. She’d stood with everyone else and bowed as well. Unaware of his dealings with Gomda, the surprise on her face was genuine.

He looked from one umeron to the other. “It has come to my attention that the manis patrol routes have been adjusted. Might I ask why? With so few available for these patrols, we must be careful how we allocate them.”

“I adjusted them for precisely that reason, Nesch Takatin.” Umeron Kimi bowed her head again. “Capu Cirtis came to us with a concern about the Order’s perception. Our reputation with the people of the villages is in decline. They hear about dragon attacks at Ghost Flats, hear about the bodies found there, yet despite sending all those Manisi there, the Corpus Order has not found a single dragon in all our searching.”

Damn him. And damn this woman for—

He took a breath. “Yes. I know of the rumblings.”

“I’ve—” She glanced at Umeron Gomda. “The manisi have begun specialized training to deal with the creatures that have been attacking villagers. Nahual, they are called.”

Takatin frowned. Nahual?

“By killing these creatures, by defending the villages from them, we will be seen as continuing to protect the people while we look for the dragon or dragons in the flats.”

“The modifications to the routes are fairly minor,” Umeron Gomda said. “And with the use of whistles, the hands can patrol villages more efficiently. If a manis finds something, they use the whistle to summon the others of their hand.”

Takatin couldn’t think of anything to argue against. He again looked from one umeron to the other. “We should not forget our primary purpose. A potential dragon sighting occurred recently. Make sure the patrols continue to keep watch on the skies. We cannot afford to miss a dragon as we search for these . . . nahual.”

Anaya pulled her head back and let out a little bark at Balam.
Stop stroking my neck that way.

The dark green dragon looked at her, gold eyes sparkling.
Why do you want me to stop? I can sense that you enjoy it.
He began to lean his head closer, no doubt in order to rub her neck with his cheek again.

She poked the side of his face with her nose, pushing him back.
That is the point. I enjoy it
too
much. The room is not quite ready. We must have patience.

He let out a soft rumble—a sigh—and lay his head on the floor of their den, eyes on her.
As you wish.

Though he had relented, memories of her ancestors continued to flash through her mind. Wings and limbs and tails and the rest. It was a good thing dragons could not blush, or her face would be as red as Willem’s sometimes was. She had spoken calmly to Balam about it, but she was just as—

Are you okay, dear-heart? You seem really . . . excited?

Anaya blinked and distanced herself from the link.
I am fine. The trip does have me a little excited.

Me too!

Their normal nahual patrols had been cut back in order that they could patrol around the villages in the South. Aeron did not mind and neither did Anaya. They had been killing nahual in their region for many months now. Most had been discovered, hopefully, and it should take some time for more to replace those already taken care of, so they could afford to patrol their region a little less. And it was their purpose, after all, to protect people. Even those in the South.

The southern patrols had actually found and had four nahual killed in the last three weeks. The success so far of her brothers and sisters and their bond-mates made Anaya proud. She and Aeron had a southern patrol tonight, but right now, they were going on a special trip along with all the dragonlinked who were free.

I think Polandra’s idea is very good.

I do too, dear-heart. It’s genius. Much better than making who-knows-how-many trips back and forth with sacks. I’m a little jealous that I didn’t think of it, truth be told.

Willem walked into the den and smiled at the two of them. “Hey, guys.” He walked to Balam’s saddle on the stand and began inspecting it.

Are you done with your shower? Willem is preparing Balam’s saddle.

I’m toweling off right now. I just had to wash off after examining that dead person for Investigation Craft training.

You felt like you did when you started helping Millinith with examining dead nahual.

Yes. It’ll take me a while to get used to it. It’s still creepy to me. Fillion kept reminding me that nahual aren’t the only things to be examined at attack sites. He mentioned that murdered investigator again. He’s right, of course. Still, I’m not sure I’ll ever get over seeing a dead person, much less having to examine one.

Anaya felt a hint of embarrassment through the link.
That is not something to be ashamed of. If you ever feel nothing while looking at a dead person, then you should feel ashamed.

A big mental hug came from him.
Have I ever mentioned that I love you? Because I do.

Willem was looking over Anaya’s saddle when Aeron trotted in. “Ah, good. Let me just toss these in the laundry basket and I’ll help with the saddles.”

With the two of them working together, she and Balam were soon saddled and walking out the dragon door into the courtyard.

“About time!” Liara, sitting behind Polandra on Ikan, smiled at them.

“Sorry!” Aeron ducked his head. “I had to grab a quick shower.” He looked at Renata. “You sure you have a good mental image of where to open the portal in the room?”

“I do. The Guildmaster made sure of it.” Anaya could feel the resigned humor from her.

Aeron chuckled as he climbed in the saddle. “I bet she did.”

As had all the dragons who happened to be there, Anaya included. None of them wanted any damage to the large room, nor to anyone who would be working there.

She chirped at Aeron.
Everyone is here. We should go.

“I’m with Anaya,” Fillion said. “Let’s go!”

“How did you know what she told me?”

Fillion smiled and shrugged. “Because everyone feels that way?”

With a short laugh, Jessip said, “Well, let me get to the Guildhall, first. Zolin will be right back.”

Jessip and Zolin opened a portal and then disappeared through it. Jessip would wait with Millinith so they could relay messages back and forth.

Once Zolin returned and their portal closed. Renata said, “I found the perfect spot,” and looked up. Moments later, another portal appeared.

Anaya and the other dragons waited for Xochi and Renata to lead the way. Once they were airborne, Anaya, Balam, and the others followed.

The temperature, when they emerged, was much warmer even than near Bataan-Mok, and it was drier here, too. As such, seeing the air currents was more difficult.

“Wow.” Aeron’s voice was filled with awe.

Anaya rumbled in agreement. For as far as even she could see, sand dunes covered the land, very pale amber mounds in the bright sun. Winds had shaped their tops into sinuous curves, and waves of sand rippled across some of them.

“Down there.” Renata pointed to a spot where two lines of dunes met, forming a sort of corner. “We can shove sand down from both sides.”

Before she even finished speaking, dragons were banking down for landings. Anaya hurried down, too. She wanted to see if this sand felt as good as the sand from the caves.

Hurry and get off me.

Hmm?

Unless you want to roll in the sand, too?

Laughing, Aeron quickly dismounted.
I’ll pass, dear-heart.

Anaya bounded to the other dragons and half-jumped, half-flew in a rolling dive into the sand.
This is fun! It is just like the sand from the caves. It is perfect.

All the dragonlinked stood at a distance, bemused smiles on their faces as they watched their bond-mates.

Anaya wasn’t sure what their dislike of dirt was all about. The hot sand felt especially good.

Cheers and claps broke out when Coatl formed himself into a ball and rolled down a dune, nose over tail. Leaving odd tracks behind, he descended the tall, powdery mound, nearly reaching the bottom. After four revolutions, however, his performance ended in a tangle of tail and wings, scattered sand, and his own laughter. Balam and Zolin let out roars of approval.

All the dragons decided to give it a try. Some were better at it than others, though that didn’t prevent them from enjoying themselves. They were all in the middle of a great deal of fun when Gregor spoke out.

“Alright, everyone. Don’t forget that the Guildmaster and Jessip and all those workers are waiting for us.”

Anaya wasn’t the only dragon who let out rumbles of disappointment.

“Where did you want us to start, Renata?” Gregor looked at her with interest.

“Back up top.” She led the way.

Everyone followed up the dune.

What do you think, dear-heart? Is the three-foot-wide portal going to be big enough?

Anaya chirped at Aeron.
It should be.

We’ll find out soon enough, I suppose.

They all stood at the top of the two dunes staring below. A strong pulse of magic power let them know Renata was opening the portal. Sure enough, the pretty orb of purple glass plates appeared and began filling with mist. It reminded Anaya of the balls made of leather patches that children kicked around the Caer, though there were a far greater number of plates in a portal than patches on a ball. When the glass plates vanished moments later, all that remained was the portal itself, floating just above the sand.

“Alright,” Renata said, moving to a crouch, “let’s start shoving sand.” Putting words to action, she began pushing sand down the dune toward the portal.

The dragonlinked bent to the task using hands and even feet to shove sand off the tops of the dunes and into the little valley between them. It did not take long for them to get tired. Sweat started trickling down their faces.

Aeron removed his riding jacket and tossed it aside. “Too hot for this.”

All the dragonlinked were soon in their white undershirts, on their hands and knees, shoving sand.

Anaya watched it slowly moving down the dunes and let out a quiet rumble. Not much was making it to the portal. At this rate, they would never get done.

“It had sounded like it would be easier,” Fillion said, shoving sand downhill. “Just use a portal to send sand over instead of filling up sacks and hauling them back.” He leaned back, stretching muscles. “But, by the gods, I’m not so sure this is easier than filling up sacks.”

Put your back into it, Fillion.

“Hey! If you think you can do better, leather bag, you’re welcome to try.”

With a little huff, Coatl moved beside Fillion, lifted his tail, and turned away from the portal.

“Well, go on then, mister I can do it bett—”

Fillion’s words were cut off as an eruption of sand spewed toward the portal. Not all of the kicked up sand went down the dune, however. With mutters and exclamations, the dragonlinked backed away from Coatl.

Oblivious, he kept digging with his forepaws, flinging sand between his rear legs and down the dunes.

“Damn.” Fillion’s brows were raised. “That’s actually pretty good, big guy.”

With a smug look, Coatl let out a satisfied rumble and kept going.

Anaya walked beside him and started kicking her own sand down the dune.
This is fun!

All the dragons were soon at it, and fountains of sand showered down below.

Willem started laughing. “I can’t even see the portal anymore.”

Everyone turned and looked. Where the small gateway had been, there was now an enormous heap of sand.

Hands on her head, Polandra said, “Did we choke it?” She turned to Zolin. “Ask Jessip if sand is coming through.”

“Oh, it is.” Renata pointed to the sand pile.

Anaya grunted. The top of the mound was sinking, and it started . . . swirling.

“It’s like a whirlpool,” Aeron said, “but of sand.”

The sand swirled around and around and disappeared into the portal.

“Keep going,” Aeron said. “You guys are doing great!”

No further encouragement was needed. Anaya turned around and started flinging sand. With a few determined chirps and barks, all the fountains of sand resumed.

The dunes they were working were much shorter, ragged remains of their former selves when Renata called a halt several minutes later.

“Let’s stop and check with Jessip. That’ll give me a bit of a rest and our dragons, too.” She glanced at the portal and it winked out.

The dragons sat on their haunches or lay on their bellies.

Aeron walked over and put his arm over her shoulder.
You were amazing! So much better than me.

I am bigger and my paws are bigger. If you were as big, you would have done just as well.

You’re probably right. Still, good job, dear-heart.

She chirped and rubbed her cheek against his.

He laughed and stroked her cheek.
You are
covered
in sand. I’ll need to give you a good brushing, later.

Zolin turned toward Renata.
He says the floor is not even half filled yet. We must continue.

“Alright. Let’s find a good second spot.”

About halfway through the third spot, Zolin’s deep voice let them know they were finished.

Jessip says we are done.

Anaya let out a relieved rumble. It had been fun at first, but now her shoulders ached as well as her arms and fingers. The sounds from the other dragons indicated they were all tired and sore.

She turned to Aeron.
I need more than brushing. I need a bath. I must wash off the sand.

I thought you liked the sand?

I do, but now it is in . . . places it should not be, and it is starting to chafe.

Ouch. Alright, we can go to the Guildhall lake after.

I do want to see the clutching room, first, though.

Me too!

“Where’s my jacket?” Fillion, hands on his hips, was looking around.

“Now you mention it,” Gregor said, “I don’t recall you bringing it from the first spot.”

“Barbs and pissing blades,” Fillion mumbled as he headed back to the first dunes.

They spent a great deal of time looking, but failed to find it.

“It’s a good thing we each have two sets of riding gear,” Willem said.

“But I
liked
that jacket.,” Fillion whined. “It was my favorite.”

Gregor looked at him. “They’re identical.”