A Storm in the Desert: Dragonlinked Chronicles Voume 3 (46 page)

Willem walked in the dragon doors to Ikan’s den. Polandra was saddling the large dragon.

She turned to him and her brows drew together. “Here to see us off?”

“No. We’re going with you.”

“I—”

A deep whine came from behind. Balam stood in the dragon door staring at the raven-haired girl.

Willem turned back to Polandra. “We need to know they’re okay.”

Her gaze, now on Balam, softened. She let out a breath. “Yeah.” Looking back at Willem, she said, “But by the gods, you both have to stay calm, you hear?”

He hitched the satchel up on his shoulder. “I know.”

“I need a few more minutes, and I’ll be ready. We’ll meet you in the yard.”

Willem nodded. He walked outside, back toward their stable. Balam followed, and when Willem sat on a bench just outside it to wait, he sat on his haunches nearby.

Willem set his satchel down.
I’m sure they’re fine.

Balam let out a bark.
I hope so, too.

Willem stared ahead at nothing.

Hope. It was the only thing that held him together right now. Aside from Balam, that is. Willem was trying to be strong for the beautiful dragon, and he was pretty sure the lovable beast was being strong for him.

It had been a rough night for both of them. The only way he’d been able to finally fall asleep was with an idea he got from Aeron. He’d rolled over onto Aeron’s pillow and breathed in. It was stupid, ridiculous, and wonderfully true: Aeron’s scent made him feel better. Willem had clutched the pillow, curled around it, and fallen asleep at some point soon after.

“Where are you at?”

Willem’s entire body twitched. “What?”

Liara’s brows rose up. “Oh boy, were you ever somewhere else.”

He felt his cheeks warming. “I—my mind was just wandering.”

Liara sat next to him and leaned back against the wall. Her voice was quiet. “I’m sure he’s fine.”

Willem swallowed. His throat was tight. “Yeah.” He nodded. “Yeah.”

By the time Polandra walked Ikan out, the rest of Willem’s friends were there. Sharrah was on the other side of Liara, on the bench. Cheddar stood next to her, while Fillion and Gregor and Jessip and Renata stood nearby. They had all walked over silently. No one said anything. No one questioned his having riding gear on. They were just there, with him.

Standing, he looked around at them all before mounting up.

Guildmaster Millinith entered the courtyard.

She glanced at Willem and Balam before turning to Polandra. “Remember to be careful. Don’t do anything rash. Talk to them, see what their situation is, and come back to us.”

Polandra nodded. She also glanced at Willem. “Yes, ma’am.”

As the Guildmaster headed for the investigation office, a pulse of magic drew his attention. Polandra stared up at the forming portal.

Let’s go see how they’re doing.

Balam took them through the portal after Ikan and Polandra, and they emerged above the caves.

Stars twinkled in the predawn sky. Even this early, it was about an hour before sunrise, the temperature difference was obvious on the exposed parts of Willem’s face. It wasn’t warm, exactly, just not as cool as at the Caer.

Ikan turned and flew toward Bataan-Mok. Balam followed. As they drew nearer to the home of the Corpus Order, Ikan flew them closer to the ground. Sparse plant life whizzed by below, just visible in the wan light. Shrubs, tall cacti, and a few scraggly trees. Then the big dragon led them into a deep ravine. They flew out of sight in the twisty dry riverbed for several miles.

Willem frowned. If he remembered the route map right, they were still miles outside the farthest manis patrol, so why were they hiding in the ravine?

A ravine that was getting shallower. They had to fly closer and closer to the rocky riverbed to keep below ground level, and Willem wondered how safe it was to continue. Just when he was going to ask Balam to say something about it, Ikan backwinged to a landing.

Polandra dismounted. “We can walk from here. We should be close enough for the dragons to speak to each other, soon.”

Willem hopped to the ground. “Why are we hiding in this ravine? We’re miles way from the nearest manis patrol, aren’t we?”

“The Guildmaster said to be careful, so we’re being careful.” She turned and, with Ikan, continued along the dry riverbed. “I don’t want anyone, manis or otherwise, to catch sight of us.”

That made sense, he supposed. But they could have gotten closer faster by just flying straight.

A surge of excitement through the link preceded Balam’s enthusiastic bark.
She is well! They are well!

Willem placed his head in his hands, closed his eyes, and clamped his jaws tightly against the rise of emotions.

“Be quiet!”

Ikan and Polandra are not happy with me. As if anyone could hear me from here? At least I did not roar.

When he had control of himself again, Willem opened his eyes and took a deep breath. The stars shining above, holdouts against the light of false dawn, sparkled, shimmered, and blurred. He blinked, felt light touches on his cheeks, and continued to take deep breaths.

Aeron was alive. Anaya was alive. All they needed to do now was figure out how to get them out of that damn place.

“Balam,” Polandra said, “please let Ikan speak to her for a moment uninterrupted.”

Willem placed his hand on his bond-mate’s shoulder. “Let them talk, love. We can talk to them after.”

The green dragon chirped and sat on his haunches. Willem leaned against him while they waited. A few minutes passed as Willem let relief replace the worry he’d had since yesterday.

I am very sorry, Willem.

Willem stood. The sending was weak from distance.
Anaya? Why are you sorry?

I could not protect Aeron, could not bring him back for us.

Oh, sweetheart, don’t you worry about that. What’s done is done. You are both safe. That is all that matters.

That is what Aeron said.

Well, listen to him, because he’s right.

Willem bit his lip, unsure how to ask the question.
Did Ikan tell you that the Order usually takes three days before they, ah, kill a dragon?

He did. Aeron says that he will think of something before that happens, though. He asks if you and Balam can return each night.

Of course we can.

Good. Aeron wants you to. I do too.

“We should get back,” Polandra said. “Let everyone know they’re okay.”

Willem nodded. “Yeah, of course.”

We’re going to go back to the Caer and let everyone know that you’re both okay. We will be back tonight. Please tell Aeron I love him.

He says he loves you, too.

Stay brave, Anaya.

I will.

+ + + + +

Cirtis didn’t wait for the guard to open Takatin’s door, he opened it himself and walked through. The belated announcement gonged from ahead. Moments later, he heard the soft steps of bare feet behind him as the man’s pesan arrived, too late. Cirtis continued down the hallway to the inner rooms.

“Capu Cirtis?” The young girl hurried to catch up. “Can I help you?”

“I’m afraid you cannot. I will speak with the Nesch.”

The pesan tried to move in front of him, but Cirtis sidestepped her each time. With a worried expression, the girl said, “Nesch Takatin has not yet risen for the day.”

In the waiting room, Chu’a had moved to bar the way to the bedroom. Upon seeing Cirtis, however, he inclined his head and moved aside.

Without breaking stride, Cirtis continued to the back room.

“Capu Cirtis, please!”

The girl on his heels, Cirtis entered the bedroom. “Why do we have someone in the cells?”

Takatin, sitting at a small desk, looked up at them. “Good morning.”

“Answer my question!”

Takatin waved the girl off.

The pesan glanced at them both, bowed, and left, closing the door behind her.

Returning to the papers he’d been reading, Takatin said, “The prisoner was captured in one of the villages along with a dragon. He is a Laminae, or is working with them.”

“The Laminae? That’s preposterous. They don’t even exist anymore. What proof do you have?”

“His own words. He says the Hour of Creation is a lie and that dragons are not the creatures Yrdra created.”

“So? There are many who believe that. Since when do we ‘capture’ people from the villages who don’t believe as we do?”

“It is not I who do this. The umeri have spoken. The boy and the dragon must be executed.”

Cirtis stared at him. “There was a vote?” If there had been, his options would be much more limited.

“A quorum voted last night, yes. There was no tie, so you were not bothered, as it was late.”

That scheming bastard. “We cannot do this. The Laminae that were executed nearly a century ago had killed people. Besides which, there are laws now. We can’t just kill someone for no reason!”

“Heresy isn’t enough of a reason?”

“Heresy? We aren’t a religious order, Takatin. We merely serve our purpose, killing the evil creatures Yrdra created.”

“A purpose cloaked in lies.”

“Not one minute ago the boy saying the First Principle is a lie condemned him as a Laminae and to death—now you say the same thing?”

Takatin’s jaws worked, but he said nothing.

“Killing an innocent boy is going too far. Do you really think Lady Hasana’s investigators will ignore a request from the Dragon Craft Guild to check into the murder of one of their members?”

Muscles in his jaws still twitching, Takatin looked down at the papers before him. “Perhaps you are right. I might be able to convince the umeri to spare the boy’s life, though I make no promises.” He looked up. “My hands are tied with the dragon, however. They feel its death will be an example to all who doubt the Order’s reason to exist, and to all who think we do not serve our purpose.”

Takatin returned to the documents. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, Capu, I have my day to start.”

The man’s behavior troubled Cirtis. Though concerned, he kept his face serene as he made his way through Bataan-Mok. Nearly all members now allied themselves with one of the major factions, but even so, many still looked to him for strength. A nod, a smile, a raised hand in greeting, all lifted morale. As long as Capu Cirtis looked calm, looked in control, the state of the Order was assumed to be good. He’d had to redouble his efforts, lately, with the caustic mood hovering over the Order like a heavy lid on a boiling pot. The interesting thing was, the odd tension in the air had been replaced today with expectation, promise, and excitement. All because of Anaya.

News of the dragon had spread like wildfire. Cirtis had stopped by Daelon’s Plaza earlier to check in on her. As he’d approached the plaza, he heard laughter. Children, young pesani, laughing. And it was the laughter of wonder and joy. When he entered the large courtyard, he saw why. Anaya was incredible, beautiful, even. She did not fit the image of the savage beast attacking and killing people that old stories so often painted of dragons. She merely lay there calmly, iron shackles on her legs, occasionally watching those that watched her. She had even chirped—chirped!—at a few people. Many watching her seemed excited by and, at least to his eyes, enamored of the fettered creature. He couldn’t blame them. Even in chains she looked majestic and regal. In fact, it seemed her placid nature was actually working against the attitudes that some hoped to instill with her capture and execution.

He frowned, then quickly cleared his expression.

Aeron would not be happy when he learned about the execution. Cirtis had tried to think of a way around it as he walked the hallways to the gaol, but nothing presented itself to him.

The large door opening revealed a room, the opposite end of which was sectioned off with bars. Aeron was in there, laying on a shabby bed. Cirtis stepped in the room and the heavy door clanged shut behind. A flicker of recognition passed across the boy’s features, but it was quickly replaced with a blank expression.

Aeron stood. “Who are you?”

Good. He had quick wits. Observers were not the only ones who watched and reported. Reading lips was likely a widely held skill. “I am Capu Cirtis, young man. Some would say I am the leader of the Corpus Order.”

There was a small stool off to the side. He grabbed it and made his way to the iron bars.

The seat creaked when he sat upon it. He made sure his back was to the guards. “I was able to convince Takatin to spare your life, or at least to say he would try. I am going to speak with recent acquaintances, though, to see if there is anything we can do. I have some people I can count on, but these new friends have more reach.”

Aeron glanced at the guards.

“Don’t worry about them, they cannot hear us. They are deaf and mute.”