A Storm in the Desert: Dragonlinked Chronicles Voume 3 (70 page)

Again, the beautiful voice came to him.
I am sorry.

What ever do you have to be sorry for?

We do not mean to scare you. We do not mean to make you worry.

I’m not frightened. Why would I be frightened of you?

The tone was changing, was weakening. Hints of other sounds came to him, now.

I do not know. We only want to serve our purpose. We only want to be happy. We only want to live.

The sadness, the yearning in her voice, nearly broke his heart.
Who doesn’t want you to live, child?

You.

Me? I don’t understand.

You tried to kill me.

Yiska’s eyes sprang open.

“She won’t hurt him, will she?”

“Anaya can eat him for all I care.”

He lay on his back, and a foot above, the dragon’s face loomed. Warmth bathed his face with each of her soft exhalations. Her gold eyes were large and luminous and . . . full of compassion. She watched him. She
saw
him.

Memories of all the dragons he’d seen die returned. Flashes came back to him of whimpering, cowering dragons, of frightened roars, and shiny, dark blood spreading across the execution platform. All those terrified creatures were killed here in this plaza.

‘We only want to live.’

Crushing realization gripped his heart and his eyes widened. A short burst of breath escaped his lips, a sob that he clamped his lips against, and tears blurred his vision.

Anaya chirped at him.

He blinked and tears fell from his eyes. He took an unsteady breath. “I’m sorry.”

“She’s scaring him.” Capu Cirtis sounded worried.

Yiska shook his head. “I didn’t understand. I guess I wouldn’t let myself understand.”

Anaya turned to the boy.
He says he is uninjured, but I think we should get him to a chair before the others arrive.

Aeron looked at her. “Others? And wait, you
spoke
with him? Why?”

Yiska touched his temple. “Her voice is beautiful.” He slowly sat up and then put his face in his hands. Good gods, they’d been so very wrong.

“Umeron,” Capu Cirtis squatted next to him. “Yiska? Should I call a healer over?”

“We’ve been killing intelligent beings.” He gripped the Capu’s arm. “People!”

Sadness and sympathy filled Cirtis’s eyes. “I know.”

Yells and confused shouts came from the crowd to the south. It sounded like a great number of horses were riding up. A few manisi ran to the barrier, those who had not been bought.

Yiska’s initial thought was confirmed when the crowd behind the barrier parted and two dozen horses rode up and stopped before the manisi. Another dozen or so of what looked like soldiers followed behind on foot.

“What is the meaning of this?” Capu Cirtis stood and faced them. “Who are you and why have you brought all these soldiers to Bataan-Mok?”

“Master Gella?” The Guildmaster walked a few steps toward the new arrivals and stopped.

“Guildmaster Millinith. I’m glad we didn’t miss your meeting.” The woman looked around the plaza. “Although, it appears we did miss something.”

All the manisi that Yiska had bribed Gomda to help with the plan, all twelve of them, were tied up and hooded. The remaining three fighters stood at the barrier. Injuries were being tended to here and there about the courtyard. He couldn’t see Fala in the tiered seats. She must have fled at some point.

“Capu Cirtis, Nesch Takatin,” Guildmaster Millinith gestured toward the woman, “allow me to introduce Special Investigator Gella.”

+ + + + +

Fillion jerked his hand back when Gregor flinched. Kisa, head resting in the healer adept’s lap, looked up at Gregor and made a sad little sound.

“Barbs and blades, Fillion, if you don’t leave my arm alone, I’m going to break one of yours.”

He grimaced. “I’m sorry, I just . . . I can’t stand that it hurts you.” Seeing Gregor’s arm hanging at that weird angle had scared the piss out of him.

“Yes, well, you fiddling with it makes it hurt more. The enchantment reduces the pain, it doesn’t eliminate it. Just leave my arm be. You two set it properly.” Gregor patted the paving stones on his other side. “Come. Sit.”

Fillion stood. “Alright.” As he made his way over, he looked around at everyone. They all sat together on the flagstone floor of the plaza, surrounded by their dragons. They’d gathered where Gregor had been injured, near where Anaya had been attacked. Guildmaster Millinith, Capu Cirtis and Nesch Takatin were under the pavilion talking with Master Gella. Well, he supposed she was Special Investigator Gella for this.

He sat next to Gregor. The young healer put his uninjured arm over Fillion’s shoulders, leaned against him, and sighed. Unlike Gregor, most people had come out of the battle without serious injury. The two sorcerers got banged up a bit, but had no broken bones. Aeron had a bruised shoulder. Renata and Jessip said they only had a few bruises.

“Xochi was ready to pounce on Nesch Takatin when he ran toward us, dagger drawn.” Renata chuckled. “But I saw his eyes were on the manisi. He’d come to help me. I hope that means he’s been swayed to our side.” She glanced at the pavilion. “I always liked him.”

Jessip put his arm around her. “We can only hope. It would be nice if the Corpus Order wasn’t shut down.”

“Yeah. Then all we have left to do is change their core principles.” Liara’s smile was ironic.

Fillion twisted his lips in a grimace. Liara had a point. He looked at her. She was the only other dragonlinked who had more than scrapes and bruises. There was a bandage on her cheek.

“How’d you get that, anyway?” Fillion nodded to the gauze taped to her face.

“You should have seen her!” Polandra’s eyes lit up. “She took on two manisi by herself.”

“What?” Aeron turned to Liara. “Why?”

She smiled and chuckled. “I was dealing with a manis who’d come for me when I saw one go for Mia.” She shrugged. “I had no choice.” She glanced at Polandra, a sparkle in her eyes. “I got help soon enough, though, from her and Ikan.”

“We were lucky,” Willem said.

“Ha!” Fillion smiled. “I’d say the manisi were lucky that we were fighting only to incapacitate, not to kill.”

“Hmm,” Willem said. “Good point. Even so, and not to belittle your arm,” he nodded to Gregor, “we sustained relatively few injuries, and minor ones at that.” He looked at Anaya. “Especially considering that someone, once again, tried to kill Anaya.”

The tawny dragon rumbled.

“Where is Yiska, anyway?” Liara looked around the plaza.

“I think I heard they were tossing him in a cell.” Renata frowned. “A punishment that seems a little soft.”

Anaya chirped.
He was scared.

Aeron turned to her. “So? And you never did explain why you talked to him.”

Communication aids understanding. He understands dragons now. He knows that we are people.

Aeron grunted.

He didn’t seem mollified and Fillion really couldn’t blame him. The man had come after Anaya, weapon drawn. “Where’s that sword, anyway?” Fillion said. “Anaya, do you know what happened to it?”

It was struck by the lightning. When I could see again, it was gone.

“Is that what the lightning struck?” Fillion raised his brows. “No wonder Yiska was knocked out. He was holding it.”

“I think I found it.” Journeyman Zaine stood a few feet away, bent over, hands on knees, staring at the floor of the plaza. No, he was looking at the two paving stones where the lightning had entered the ground.

Aeron stood. “I don’t see the sword.”

“I don’t see it either.” Fillion walked over and looked around. His gaze kept being drawn back to the shiny circles. The two paving stones each had a dark circle close to their centers where the molten stone had cooled, leaving a concave, glassy surface.

“That’s because it isn’t a sword anymore.” Zaine held something up. Pommel, grip and cross-guard were all that remained of the executioner’s weapon. The sorcerer crouched and ran his finger along the deep bevels around the two adjoining pavers. “The blade melted and collected in these grooves.”

Fillion leaned over. “There
is
metal in there, scorched little beads and blobs of it.”

Journeyman Zaine stood and handed Aeron the remnants of the sword. “Souvenir?”

Aeron took it and turned it over in his hand. He gripped it, stared at the flagstones a moment, then looked up to the sky and grunted.

“Dragonlinked,” Guildmaster Millinith was walking over. “It’s time to go. Special Investigator Gella will start inquiries today concerning the links within the Order to National Transportation.”

“What about our talks?” Gregor struggled to stand.

“They’re over, for now,” Guildmaster Millinith said.

Fillion ran over and helped him up. “Over?”

“We’ll send someone down here now and then to check on the investigation’s progress,” she said. “When it’s concluded, we can decide when talks can begin again.”

“I guess Master Gella decided to help us stop Nesch Takatin’s plan?” Gazing at the pavilion, Polandra stood.

“Actually,” Renata said, “with everything that happened today, I think he’s already decided that his plan was a bad idea.”

“Help?” Brows drawn together, Guildmaster Millinith glanced at the pavilion. “Yes, I suppose she is.”

It didn’t sound like she believed it. Fillion frowned. “Master Gella
is
helping us, right? She said she would.”

The Guildmaster turned to him. “We should let her work without distraction. Let’s take our guests back to Delcimaar and head home.”

The most difficult part of the trip back was getting Gregor into the saddle as painlessly as possible. Even though they’d made a makeshift sling for him, every bump and jostle still made him grimace. He suffered through it all with quiet composure.

It made Fillion very proud. Still, he had to exert a great deal of self-restraint not to fuss over the healer adept.

Your empathy does you credit, but let him have his dignity.

I know, leather bag, I know.

At the Magic Craft Guildhall, he helped Journeyman Zaine unstrap and dismount.

Zaine handed the riding belt to Fillion. “Thank you for the most gigantic time of my life.” With an enormous smile he turned to Coatl. “And you, too, of course. Thank you.”

Coatl chirped at him.

Still smiling, the journeyman ran his eyes over the mahogany dragon, murmured, “Golden,” then walked to the fountain.

The other sorcerer, Fillion never got her name, walked over and stood beside Zaine. They waited there for Master Enora.

Fillion mounted back up. “When we get home, I’ll make you some hot tea with willow bark extract.”

Jaws clenched, Gregor only nodded.

“I want to thank you all for assisting us today,” Guildmaster Millinith said, “I’m sorry that the talks devolved into a small battle, but I’m glad you were there to help. The guild is in your debt.”

“Don’t mention it,” Journeyman Zaine said.

“It was my pleasure.” The girl dimpled and bowed her head.

“Even so,” the Guildmaster said, “should you decide you enjoy the company of dragons, I will gladly accept your applications and review them very favorably.” She bowed to the two sorcerers and walked over to Master Enora.

Journeyman Zaine, brows raised and mouth open in an ‘o,’ turned to Fillion. He then shut his mouth and ran his gaze over Coatl again, a considering look in his eyes.

Fillion was certain there would be another applicant at some point in the future.

Guildmaster Millinith spoke with Master Enora for a few minutes before returning to Anaya. After mounting, she waved at the three sorcerers, placed her hand on Aeron’s shoulder, and leaned forward to tell him something.

A portal appeared in the sky.

Fillion patted Coatl on the neck.
Try to be as smooth as you can. Gregor’s arm is really starting to bother him.

I will. He is thick with pain.

Thanks, love.

Coatl rumbled, then lifted them into the sky, following Anaya into the gateway.

Gregor grunted when they landed in the courtyard. Coatl, bless his heart, put down right outside the door to their rooms. Kisa landed and padded over, chirping encouragement up at Gregor.

“Just do the straps on your right side,” Fillion said as he quickly undid his own. He spun in the saddle and started on the Gregor’s other straps. “I’ll get these.”

Gregor didn’t protest. He just undid the two straps and took a deep breath, staring at the ground.

Fillion hopped off and said, “I could levita—”

“Don’t you dare.”

His dignity, Fillion.

I know!

Coatl’s rumbling laugh was irritating.

Fillion sighed. “I’m just trying to help.”

“I know you are.” Gregor looked at the ground again. “You could help me dismount, though, so I don’t drop down too hard. On the right side, so I can hold on with my good arm.”