A Storm in the Desert: Dragonlinked Chronicles Voume 3 (53 page)

“Master Gella.” Fillion smiled.

“Indeed.” The Guildmaster looked at Aeron. “As far as convincing people, I think Capu Cirtis had the right idea. We will continue doing patrols in the South as we were, we just won’t be doing so to assist manis patrols anymore. We will kill the nahual ourselves and then drop them off, as visibly as we can, at the village nearest to where we found the nahual. And don’t be shy about fighting a nahual in view of people, either. The more that see what we do, the better.”

“You will still avoid manis patrols, though,” Master Doronal said, “correct?”

“Absolutely,” Guildmaster Millinith said. “Fighting nahual is difficult enough without having to keep an eye out for a hand. And, too, I don’t want any more of us captured.” She turned to Polandra. “You’ll need to continue meeting with Isandath to obtain updated patrol routes, so that we can adjust ours to where they will not be.”

Polandra nodded. “Yes, ma’am.”

“In fact, I want you to go down there shortly and have Ikan speak to Isandath. See if he has any news about reactions to today’s events.”

“Will do.”

Aeron frowned. All this was well and good, but sand was starting to chafe in his crotch. He surreptitiously adjusted himself and the skirt. “If you don’t need me for anything more, Guildmaster, I’d like to go get a bath.” He twisted his lips in a grimace. “I’ve got sand everywhere.”

“I don’t have anything more. Unless the masters have something? Or Lord Baronel?” She looked at the others.

Master Canneth and Master Doronal shook their heads.

“Well,” Lord Baronel said, “I don’t have anything either, except to say that it’s good to have you and Anaya back home.”

“Thank you, my lord. It’s amazing to be back home.”

Aeron nearly ran to his room at the other end of the building. After stuffing a change of clothes in his satchel, he glanced in the den at Anaya. Balam was with her, and they were chirping at each other. Balam would occasionally touch his nose to hers. Smiling, Aeron made for the Bath Hall.

He nearly fell asleep in the tub. It was so warm, so soothing, and so peaceful. But this was most definitely not where he wanted to sleep tonight. He wanted a nice, comfortable bed that had a mattress stuffed with something other than hard, lumpy grass. With a relaxed sigh, he sat up and got to finishing his bath.

When the water drained out of the tub, he saw a shocking amount of sand in the bottom. Where in Yrdra’s deepest hells had all that even
been
? He washed it down the drain and grabbed a towel. The sooner he finished, the sooner he’d be back at the stable.

A cool evening breeze blew through his slightly damp hair as Aeron hustled along the cobbled road. At the intersection, a turner reached up with her tool and flipped the mirror on the street lamp. Its light bathed the road below. Aeron glanced down the other street and saw another member of the light crew working on the street lamps down that way.

He’d always taken them for granted. The street lamps, the light crew, even the cobbled streets themselves. Hells, he’d taken everything in the Caer for granted. And he shouldn’t have. No one should. Everything could be taken away at any moment. Accident, illness, nahual, or someone with a confused idea of how to fix something. You never knew what could snatch away all you took for granted.

Maybe that’s why he felt this odd shimmer of excitement, of expectation. As he walked into the courtyard, he realized that the same feeling came through the link from Anaya. He felt slight pressure in his chest, and each beat of his heart was strong. He almost felt breathless, too, and a tingle filled his belly, spreading outward. He felt more alive than he could ever remember feeling before. Was it because he was home? Because they were home?

As he walked in the dragon door, he spied Anaya and Balam still chirping at each other, touching noses and cheeks. Aeron left them there and stepped into the study.

Willem was sitting in the desk chair, reading. He smiled when Aeron walked in. “Was your bath nice?” He stood and set the book on the desk. “I bet they didn’t even let you bathe while you were held captive.”

Aeron dropped his satchel on the floor.

“It’s odd,” Willem said. “I’ve had this strange but nice feeling the past hour, almost—”

Aeron closed the distance and threw his arms around Willem.

Willem, knocked a step back from the impact, returned the embrace. “There was a lot happening when we finally got to you and Anaya, so I waited. You don’t know how difficult that was. I wanted to do this, and I wanted to check every inch of you to be sure you were okay, the moment I saw you.”

Face pressed into Willem shoulder, Aeron said, “In that gaol cell, I missed a lot of things, but you I missed the most.” He took a deep breath. “Now I feel like I’m home.”

Willem’s arms around him, the hints of leather and feed still lingering in the air of the converted tack room, and even the faint hum of the thermal conditioner, it all made Aeron happy. His heart was beating faster, too.

Willem took a quick breath. “What—”

From the link, the excitement and expectation from Anaya surged, and was accompanied now by something like hunger.

Willem gulped and exhaled sharply. “What is Anaya doing to Balam?”

Aeron looked out the door to the den. Anaya was making a strange sound as she stroked her cheek along Balam’s neck. She then leaned back and suddenly bit Balam. The bite was not hard, not enough to puncture hide, but it wasn’t a nibble either.

Aeron stared. He could
feel
the green dragon’s neck in his mouth, muscles firm but gently yielding. The heartbeat pulsing in it began to quicken.

Balam let out a low, extended rumble. At the same time, Willem let out a breathy sigh.

Aeron’s heart was racing and he began to pant. Other parts of his body were responding as well. “What is happening?” He looked at Willem. The blond boy’s face was flushed and he was panting, too.

Mouth open, Willem stared at Aeron. “I think . . .” He took another breath. “I think we both know what’s happening.”

A loud thump from the den followed by the building shaking drew their attention. Anaya was circling Balam, tail thrashing about. It hit a support and the building shook again.

Guildmaster Millinith, Master Doronal and Master Canneth appeared in the office doorway.

“What in hells is going on?” Guildmaster Millinith looked in at the two dragons.

“Anaya!” Aeron took a step in the den. “Not in here! You’ll bring the building down around us!”

Anaya spun on him. Still rumbling oddly, she looked around at everyone and then back at Balam. She let out a roar and raced out the dragon door for the yard. Once there, she leapt into the sky.

Letting out a rumble that turned into a roar, Balam tore after her.

As their wing beats faded, Guildmaster Millinith walked in the den. “Would someone like to explain what that was all about? What’s gotten into Anaya and Balam?”

“I think it’s fairly obvious,” Master Doronal said. He glanced down and then back up to Aeron’s face.

Face warming, Aeron quickly placed his hands in front of his tented trousers.

“The link allows emotions to pass either direction,” Master Doronal said. “I would imagine very powerful emotions would have very powerful responses.”

“Yes,” the Guildmaster said, “and?”

“And,” he continued, “Anaya is well over a year old. Balam is just about the right age, too.”

Brows drawn together, she looked at Willem and then at Aeron. She looked at his face, no doubt noting his flushed cheeks, then she glanced down at his hands. Her eyes widened. “Oh.” Her cheeks reddened. “I see.” She hastily looked away and said, “That is, I understand.”

Turning to Master Doronal, she said, “Perhaps we should continue our meeting in your office. To give them, ah . . . privacy.”

The Guildmaster hurriedly made her way back to the office. Moments later the sound of a door opening and closing could be heard.

With a smile, Master Doronal said, “Best wishes for a viable egg her first time, Aeron.”

Face hot, Aeron nodded. “Thank you, sir.” The feeling of cold water suddenly washed over him and he gasped.

“What is it?” Master Canneth took a step forward.

The stable faded from Aeron’s view. Instead he felt and heard bubbles streaming, felt her legs and wings—his legs and wings—pulling through the water. Balam, their pursuer, chased behind. With a cunning bark, muted and bubbly, they turned and waited.

“They’re underwater, in the lake,” Willem said.

Aeron blinked, back in the stable. A torrent of emotions, senses, and sounds came from Anaya. Everything was rushing through the link.

“And she’s—” Willem gulped. “We have to go.”

Aeron nodded furiously and turned to follow him. Glimpses of wings, legs, tails, and of tumbling in water, filled his mind. That and what Anaya was doing.

“I’d suggest shutting the doors.” Master Canneth’s voice came from behind. “Lots of visitors pass through.”

They slammed and bolted the bedroom doors.

+ + + + +

Nesch Takatin’s voice boomed out. “Silence! One question at a time!”

Surprisingly, the umeri quickly complied. In the tiered seats arrayed in a semicircle, faces stared at him. About twenty feet before the podium, Capu Cirtis watched from the Capu’s chair at the front and center of the seats. The man didn’t attend many meetings of the umeri, but this was different. Everything about today had been different.

Nesch Takatin rubbed his lip. “Again, we do not know what occurred. When the mist appeared, I saw the boy and dragon . . . sink into the ground, fall downward. There was a brief glimpse of sand dunes before the mist vanished, and all that remained of the platform was what you’ve seen.”

The execution dais had been transformed. Most, if not all, of the umeri, once they’d recovered from the tainted wine, had gone and examined it. It seemed as if someone had scooped most of it away. In an oddly beautiful, perfect sphere, stone and mortar had vanished, leaving an enormous and deep, bowl-shaped hollow in the floor of the plaza, surrounded by the remnants of the four corners, all that remained of the granite platform.

“Dunes?” someone said in the seats. “Should we send a hand to the deep desert?”

Nesch Takatin glanced at the umeron and shook his head. “That would be pointless. It would take over a week for anyone to reach the Shining Sands, much less search the thousands of square miles involved.”

“Were the manisi able to kill the dragon with spells before it vanished?” Capu Cirtis asked.

The beast had used magic when it and the boy had been captured. Two manisi had placed enchantments on the dragon to monitor for spell activity and interrupt any detected. When they got to Bataan-Mok, Takatin had increased that to three manisi at all times. Those monitoring enchantments could also be used to kill, if needed.

“No,” he replied. “Their ties to it were almost immediately broken, removed. As the dragon had vanished, they were unable to cast anything on it again.”

“I see.” The look on Cirtis’s face wasn’t that of disappointment.

“Was it the boy? Did he somehow conjure up this mist to assist in the escape?”

Takatin missed who’d asked the question. “I do not believe so. I felt enormous power as the spell began. But the power surrounded us; it did not emanate from him or the dragon.”

He looked around the faces. “They must have had help.”

And they’d somehow planned it all beforehand. Takatin was sure of it. The boy, Aeron, had been giving signals to his compatriots out there. And, too, he’d warned Takatin to stay back. The executioner’s sword had been cut cleanly, sliced like a melon where it had passed through that strange glass wall. Aeron had known the spell was about to be completed and how dangerous it was.

The boy had saved his life.

“What of the agitator? Was he captured? Perhaps we could persuade him to reveal who helped.”

Takatin frowned. “He vanished as well, though under different circumstances. Once through the archway, he made for the main hallways and no one saw what became of him after.”

Dragons are people, the rabble-rouser had shouted. Aeron had said something of the like. He’d also said that he could feel what his dragon felt. The way he’d described it sounded almost like—

“And the wine?” Capu Cirtis said. “Did we discover how it came to be tainted? I can tell you, the experience was not pleasant. I’m not sure that robe can be saved.”

Takatin glanced at him. “Not all the wine served was tainted. Of the two casks opened for this evening, one was found to have been contaminated by some kind of mold growth.”

“I certainly hope all our casks are being examined for this mold,” Cirtis said, “along with the entire cellar. I, for one, do not wish to ever go through that again.”

Mumbles of agreement came from several umeri.

“Yes, of course. They are all being examined.”

“Was the cause of the fire found as well?”

Takatin clenched his jaw. “People near the banner reported that the fire in the brazier nearby was spitting and popping. They wondered if perhaps a few branches of chaparral made it into a wood bundle by accident as they thought they smelled its distinctive odor.”