A Storm in the Desert: Dragonlinked Chronicles Voume 3 (8 page)

Fillion thought about it. “Good points, all.” Then he smiled. “Still, investigation is very interesting.”

“I wonder if you’d get to have some kind of code name.” Gregor glanced at him.

“Hmm. A special investigator code name?”

“Yeah. Yours could be . . .” Gregor raised a brow. “The Nibbler.”

Fillion glanced at Gregor’s neck. Face burning, he punched Gregor on the shoulder. “Shut up. You never seem to mind, as I recall. Quite the opposite.”

Gregor’s laugh was echoed by Coatl.

+ + + + +

Millinith leaned back in the chair. Papers and parchments lay stacked in various piles on the desk before her. Progress reports, materials requests awaiting approval, there a stack of applications from prospective guild employees needing review, and under that paperweight were the proposed modifications to various parts of the Guildhall yet to be completed. A veritable mountain range of . . . stuff.

As she sat forward, her elbow caught the plate she’d set to the side. All it contained were crumbs, the remnants of the sandwich she’d had Renata send over when the girl had gone to lunch with the other dragonlinked.
That girl and her friend were full of surprises.

Before they’d all headed off to the Dining Hall, Aeron and the others insisted Millinith see a hand-to-hand defensive demonstration from Renata and Polandra. It had been quite impressive. Still, with all she had left to do in the morning, she’d not had much time to think on it. At least they’d accomplished something useful while she was gone. In the future, if she had to be pulled away on her day of sorcery training, she really should ask Master Doronal if he or someone else from the Magic Craft Hall could cover for her. He had mentioned that he’d be more than happy to help in any way he could.

Thinking of him made her smile. She wondered what he was doing right now.

“Excuse me, Guildmaster?”

She jumped. “What?”

Gregor laughed. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to startle you.”

“I was lost in thought, is all. Did Fillion give you Master Gella’s instruction?”

“He did. That’s not what I’m here for, though.” Gregor seemed a little hesitant. “It’s my father. Again.”

Millinith pressed her lips together. “He sent you another letter?”

“He did. However, this one is different.”

“Oh? He wants someone else to spy on us for him instead of you?” She smiled to take the sting from her words.

He laughed again. “No, no. Actually, he wants to offer us some business.”

She leaned back in the chair. “That
is
different. Explain.”

“For some time now, the Continental Transportation Company has been under attack.”

Millinith furrowed her brows. “Attack?”

“From saboteurs. Father suspects that one or more of his competitors hire them. For the most part they target tracks used by his trains of cars, usually in remote areas. He tells me CTC has hundreds of miles of tracks which makes patrolling them time-consuming and expensive.”

“Ah. And he wants to hire us to patrol them for him.”

“Yes.”

Millinith frowned. Did they have enough dragonlinked? “Have him send over a formal proposal. It will need to include maps showing the areas to be patrolled and a draft contract. With the maps we’ll be able to determine whether or not we can accommodate him while maintaining our current commitments.”

“I will let him know.” Gregor nodded once and left.

She hoped they could. The guild needed to start earning money, and soon. Right now, Lord Baronel was covering the guild’s costs. Those costs were not minuscule. Of course, as the guild’s Lord Sponsor, he was expected to. And he’d certainly benefit from that position. By tradition, a Lord or Lady Sponsor paid nothing for services from the guild or guilds they were a sponsor of. Millinith didn’t think that was the reason Lord Baronel had sponsored the guild, though. No, he wanted his people safe from nahual, and this was a way to accomplish that. Even so, she wanted the guild to be self-sufficient as soon as possible.

Millinith glanced at the stacks of paper again. There remained a great deal to do. Though, to be fair, much progress had been made. Once little more than an animal trail, the route from Caer Baronel to the quarry, site of the Dragon Craft guildhall, was an actual road, now, and was cobbled for a hundred yards at each end. Most of the work outside the Guildhall was complete: roads, paved paths and terraces, a few fields set up in the nearby prairie for crops, and the additional structures they’d need, such as stables for guild horses as well as those of visitors, barns, sheds, and such. Because most of what didn’t involve enchanting was complete, the majority of the temporary laborers had been let go to seek work on projects elsewhere. Even some of the Guildhall itself was complete, though there was much left to do. The enchanting shifts—she glanced at the schedule on the wall to her right—would continue for some time.

There was also the matter of furnishing the place. She picked up the form at the top of the request stack. Many items could be produced by the crafters in the Caer, and she preferred to have them made here rather than purchase finished products from elsewhere. For one, Caer Baronel’s crafters were very good, and for another, the cost to Lord Baronel was time and materials, rather than actual money. Glancing at several of the forms, she read their lists: Beds, chairs, tables, chests, tools, uniforms, lighting fixtures, forges, stoves, ovens, pots and pans, livestock, feed, and seed. The lists went on and on.

She dropped the papers and rubbed her face in frustration. This part of being a guildmaster was not to her liking. Going to Delcimaar to investigate the attack, even though it had not been an actual nahual attack, had been a welcome distraction.

“—even use a bo for?”

Liara’s voice came from the dragon den. They must all be back from lunch.

“It is a weapon but can also be used as a shield.” Polandra followed Liara into the room.

Aeron and Willem entered, then Sharrah and Cheddar.

“A shield?”

Renata and Jessip walked in then, and Fillion trailed after.

“Sure. You can block with it, can deflect blows, and can even use it to leverage an enemy away from you.”

Millinith stood. “Polandra.”

The girl stopped walking. “Guildmaster?”

“I’d like you to stay after class. I’ll have the other masters drop by and we can finish our talk then. I’d also like you to join the guild, if you’re not averse. It will make things easier.”

The girl nodded. “Yes, ma’am. I’d like that.”

Millinith smiled. “Good. Renata, I’d like you to stay after as well. Once we’re done talking with Polandra, I’d like you and I to go over the remaining employee applications before I hand them over to the chief of staff.”

“Okay.”

Gregor came running in. “Sorry I’m late. I was preparing the letter for my father that we talked about.”

Millinith nodded. “Good. So, where did we leave off last week with Animal Craft?”

As everyone found their seats, Gregor made his way to the wall-board. “We were going over muscular and skeletal structure, and how they work together.”

“Ah, yes. Aeron, if Anaya wouldn’t mind, I think comparing draconic and human muscle/skeletal combinations will be enlightening.”

His eyes lost focus for a moment, and he said, “She says she’d be happy to help.”

“Gregor, if you would? My left knee and Anaya’s left knee, side-by-side.”

He walked to the door and glanced in the den. She felt the pulse of magic, twice, and two ghostly images appeared above the table. One was her knee, and the other, remarkably similar though larger, was Anaya’s.

Gregor retrieved a wooden pointer from the board and said, “As the Guildmaster noted, there are a number of similarities between the two.” He jabbed the pointer into the softly glowing image of her knee. “For instance, you will note that this structure is shared by both of them.”

+ + + + +

Nesch Takatin looked at his steward. The man wore no expression, as was traditional. Glancing back at the visitor, Takatin noted that this man’s face was not blank. Worry creased brows and pinched lips.

“Why did the Capu send the manis? It has been some time since the fighter left. Have you been able to learn Cirtis’s plans?”

Takatin rubbed his thumb along the worked gold of the goblet. There was only a hint of condensation on the cup of chilled wine, but it was enough that his digit slipped easily over the geometric pattern hammered into the gleaming metal. “He told me he only wishes to learn if the rumor about the dragon boy is true. If it is, he wants to know where the boy is. The Order can then decide on what steps to take.”

“Do you believe him?” The umeron’s earrings tinkled faintly as he took a nervous sip of the sweet wine.

Takatin glanced at the crystal badges of the man’s rank. Full meetings of the Umeri were a cacophony of tinkles and clinks. He hated attending them. Luckily, the uniform of his office, the Nesch, had no jewelry requirements. Takatin was not one for rings, earrings, nose rings, or ornamentation of any kind.

He looked away from the crystal jewelry. “The Capu has always been difficult to read, but I do think there is more to this than what he told me.”

“Will it affect our plans?”

He shrugged, sipping his wine. “Possibly. Or not. It’s difficult to tell at this stage.”

The umeron nearly slammed the chalice on the low table before him. “You’re the Nesch. Can’t you do something? You stand to lose more than any of us.”

“Calm yourself. I have things under control.” He swirled the wine and took another sip. “Have there been any more . . . incidents?”

“Yes and no. People are avoiding the place, so there have been no more, ah, incidents, as you say.”

“But?” Takatin stared at the umeron.

“
They
want to keep the fear going, so now and again they leave blood and torn clothing to be found by manis patrols.”

“I thought you said there had been no more incidents.”

“The blood is from animals and the clothing is old throwaways from among their number, torn and shredded enough to not be recognizable.”

“I see. Well, you share control of the manisi, so that should not be a problem.”

“It isn’t a problem, exactly. I just think it imprudent to have too much attention drawn there. Especially with half the active manisi otherwise occupied. People may start questioning where those manisi are, and why they aren’t in evidence helping with this supposed threat.”

Takatin sniffed. “You may have a point. I’ll see what I can do.” He took another sip of wine. “What of progress at the mine?”

“No more cutting blades have broken, which is a blessing. They are difficult to make, and we are running low on abrasive. Thankfully, they seem to be learning better how to use them.”

“When will the shipment be ready?”

“In a few weeks.”

“Good. And morale?”

“Ours remains high enough. The work is easy. The sorcerers have it the hardest, actually, removing soil and rock.
Their
people, however, are a little upset at the restrictions we put on them. They dislike not being able to go to the villages anymore.”

Takatin twisted his lips. “If they’d kept their mouths shut and controlled themselves better, things might be different.”

“True.” The umeron glanced at him. “When will we get payment for the first shipment?”

Inwardly, Takatin smiled. “It will take a week or so for the shipment to reach the buyer, and about that long for payment to reach us.”

Fat cheeks pulled up in a grin. “Things seem to be progressing well. We shall proceed as we have been. Do let the rest of us know when you learn more of Capu Cirtis’ plans.”

After the umeron left, Takatin sipped again of his wine. It was now warm, but a smile curved his lips anyway.

Greed. Another worm eating at the core of the Corpus Order. This worm, however, had let him catch several fish.

Millinith’s knees let her know that a storm was coming. As a child, she’d had a severe fever accompanied by aches in her joints. Recovery took less than a week, but it left this ‘gift’ in its wake. A change in the weather was brewing. The clear, sunny skies pretended that nothing was amiss, but she knew better. The mild ache made it plain. Two drops of willow extract in a half-glass of water would set her right. Later, though.

She kept to the side of the road, avoiding soggy piles of stained snow. The manure that darkened the mostly melted slush gave off a heavy smell, and she idly wondered when the street sweepers would next pass by.

Another thought pushed that one from her mind. When would Master Investigator Gella contact her again? It had been a few days and there’d been no word. The analysis must be proving harder to interpret than the woman had estimated. As large as the continent was, there had to be a lot of beaches.
How many were there?
Would Master Gella have to visit each one and have its sand analyzed? Or had someone already done so and recorded it somewhere?

The 6,472 Beaches of Muirgen: An Analysis.

Millinith chuckled at the idea of such a book existing. It wouldn’t surprise her, however, if some-such did.

The sight of the Magic Craft Hall just past the dragon stables brought her thoughts back to her purpose. Much as she hated to admit it, she needed more help. She let out a breath and strode on.

Master Doronal was seated at his desk. He looked up from a document when she walked into his office after a quick knock.

She smiled. “Keeping busy?”

His lips curved and he said, “Not as busy as you, I’d imagine. How goes the Guildhall?”

“It goes well.” She sat in one of the two large leather chairs in front of his desk. “All outside work is done. I have most people working on the living quarters, as that is one of the areas we need completed first. The other important area is the clutching room. That proceeds well, too. Once it is complete, we’ll shift those enchanters to help with the living quarters.” She frowned. “There has been a great deal of interest in the guild. It will be nice to be able to open admissions.”

“That means you’ll need more classrooms to handle all the accepted.”

She nodded. “Classrooms are another area under construction. More classrooms means more instructors, however.”

“And those instructors will need training.”

“Exactly. And that means they need something
to
be trained.”

Doronal nodded. “The training manual.”

Her lips twisted in a wry smile. “The training manual.”

He leaned back in his chair. “As I’ve said before, I’m more than happy to assist in any way I can.”

“I’d like your help defining accepted level training. We might even be able to go so far as defining apprentice training, too.”

“Yes, possibly. From what we’ve learned from Aeron and the more recent members, we have a good idea of what they need to know for those ranks. At least for now.”

“I’d like to have a few meetings to formalize early training as well as the rank tests. Once we have those completed, I’ll also need assistance training the instructors.”

“Of course.”

“I’d like to get started as soon as possible because I fully expect an audit soon from our co-primaries. I’m sure they will want to see our progress, including work on the training manual.”

“Quite likely. I’ll drop off a schedule of days and times I can meet.”

“Thank you.” She fidgeted. “I know I’ve been a little distant the past few months.”

“Nonsense. You’ve been extremely busy.”

“Still, I miss our meetings.”

“You miss getting after me, you mean.” His eyes sparkled with humor.

She laughed. “Yes, I miss that most of all.”

“Times were a little simpler for you, then.”

“Yes. Yes, they were.”

He sat forward. “So. What about Master Canneth?”

“I’m actually going to speak to him next. Animal Craft will feature heavily in the first ranks. That, along with Magic Craft, Leather Craft, Investigation Craft, I think, and some hand-to-hand combat training.”

Master Doronal’s brows rose. “Investigation Craft I understand, but hand-to-hand combat training?”

She smiled. “You need to watch a Renata and Polandra demonstration one of these days. Those skills will be very handy should a nahual get close enough to one of our people. And Polandra’s concerns about the Order sending someone also weigh on my mind.”

Master Doronal nodded. “You’re right, of course. We should give them every tool we can. Let me know when we’ll meet.”

As for Master Canneth, he was all for it, too.

“Absolutely. I’ll drop a schedule off so you can coordinate meeting times. We should probably have Sharrah sit in on the meetings, too. She’s an accomplished zoologist and has a way of seeing things some might miss. And I agree, by the way. Offensive and defensive sorcery is all well and good, but if a nahual or a person gets in close, they will need every advantage they can get to protect themselves.”

+ + + + +

Sharrah lay in the tub, soaking. The warm water felt good after the hand-to-hand training. Guildmaster Millinith had said they could continue with the training in their off-time, that she’d make it part of the official schedule in the future. Though Sharrah was sore, she enjoyed the training. It took her mind off things.

Eyes closed, she heard others in the women’s tub room chatting or walking about. She breathed deep of the steam, infused with the various bath salts she’d sprinkled in.
She rubbed pruned fingers across her belly and thighs. Those were the most sore muscles. After breathing in deeply again, she let out a long breath.

Guildmaster Millinith had taken her aside and asked her to sit in on meetings where dragonlinked training would be formalized. It had been flattering, but it had also made her feel guilty. It wasn’t that she hated dragons. She didn’t. She loved them. That wasn’t the issue. It was the thought of being bonded to one that bothered her. It hadn’t at first, but the closer the possibility came to being a reality, the more and more she thought about it.

She’d been in the tub for some time, letting her thoughts wander in hopes of figuring out exactly why it bothered her and had come to two conclusions. One, she worried that the bond was so strong that she wouldn’t feel anything for anyone else anymore. And two, she worried that dragons were not natural creatures. They were so different. There was also the feeling that she was betraying Copper. It was silly, she knew, but that didn’t stop the way she felt. At least she had an idea of what was bothering her, now. The vague unease she’d felt for so long had done nothing but piss her off.

The warm bath felt incredibly good, but if she didn’t leave now, she’d be late meeting up with Cheddar for dinner. She lifted her hands from the no-longer-blazing-hot water and stared at them. Her fingers were incredibly wrinkled.

She stepped out of the tub, leaned in, and removed the stopper. The gurgling sound of water flowing down the drain began. Grabbing the towel, she proceeded to dry off. Done with her body, she sat on the wooden bench and attacked her hair, rubbing vigorously. Walking about outside with wet hair during winter was not a good idea.

“You have a nice shape.”

Sharrah lowered the towel. Polandra, toweling off at the next tub, was smiling at her. The girl must have come in to bathe while she’d had her eyes closed. “I—ah—” Sharrah had no idea what to say. “Um. Thank you.”

“I just wish mine were as big as yours.”

Sharrah looked down at her breasts. “Good gods, why?” She looked at Polandra. “I wish mine were like yours. They’re the perfect size, not too big. You have no idea what a pain these can be.”

Still smiling, Polandra took one last glace, said, “Even so, they’re pretty,” and then proceeded to attack her own hair with a towel.

Sharrah felt her cheeks heat up. She’d gotten used to occasionally catching people stare at them. But no one had ever said that they were pretty before, not even Cheddar, who she knew was a huge fan of them. Of course, if someone on the street had come right out and said that, she might have had to break their arm. But when Polandra called them pretty, it made Sharrah feel . . . proud.

With a bemused smile on her face, Sharrah finished drying her hair and got dressed.

“How old is Ikan?” She buttoned her coat and followed Polandra down the steps.

“He is one year older than Xochi.” A faint smile curved Polandra’s lips. “All Nayra’s children so far have hatched in the same month, one year apart. And all in those caves not too far from Bataan-Mok.”

“I see. So you didn’t get to spend time with him while he was little.”

“No. But getting to see Kisa and Mia makes up for it, a bit.” Her eyes lost focus and she sighed. “Though, his inquisitiveness is many times very child-like.”

Sharrah glanced at her. “What did he say?”

The tall girl’s cheeks flushed and she stared straight ahead. “He doesn’t understand people’s fascination with other people’s bodies. Breasts, for instance.”

She laughed. “Yes, children have questions about many things. And, keep in mind, he’s not even two years old, yet. He may be bigger than a horse, but he is, in many ways, still a child.”

“That is more true than you know.” Polandra shook her head.

Even though she’d only known her a few days, Sharrah somehow felt very at-ease with this girl. She seemed honest and straight-forward, with no hidden agendas. Maybe she could ask Polandra about one of her concerns.

Sharrah cleared her throat. “I understand that bond-mates are very close.”

Polandra nodded. “I would do anything for Ikan. Anything.” Again that distant look to her eyes. “And he would do the same for me.”

“Do you think that being bonded will keep you from, ah, finding someone special, or from staying with that someone?”

Polandra looked at her. Surprise and something else played across her features.

“Is the bond too strong to allow another in your life?” Sharrah tried to keep her voice even and her expression clear.

Sympathy softened Polandra’s face. “Are you worried that if you are bonded you will not have room in your heart for another?”

Sharrah nodded. “That’s exactly one of my fears.” Her next words came out in a whispered rush. “I don’t want to hurt Cheddar.” She twisted her lips. “And I don’t want to lose this feeling I have for him. I like liking him, being in love with him.”

A wistful smile curved Polandra’s lips. “Ah, yes. The boy with the pretty, long hair. Sharrah, our hearts are big enough. You need not concern yourself with that. Being bonded is not what will keep anyone from finding—or keeping—someone special.”

“Are you sure?”

“You need only look at Aeron and Willem, at Renata and the boy with the amazing red hair. Jessip? Even in the short time I’ve been here, I can see how they feel for each other. Their dragons have not prevented them from having relationships.”

Sharrah’s mouth fell open. Of course. Why hadn’t she thought of that? She’d been so worried, so consumed with fear, she’d blinded herself to the obvious.

“You need not concern yourself on that count, Sharrah.”

Sharrah stopped and turned to her.

Polandra stopped, too, a question in her eyes.

“I’ve been such an idiot,” Sharrah said. “Thank you Polandra.” She hugged her. “You’ve helped me more than you know.”

“Did I miss something?” Liara stepped up to them.

Sharrah released Polandra. “Just a friend lending me an ear.” She smiled at Liara. “Have you seen Cheddar?”

“A friend,” Polandra said.

“He was in the office earlier.” Liara glanced at Polandra. “Are you okay?”

“Thanks, Sharrah said and headed for the investigation office.

“Yeah, I’m fine.”

Cheddar was at a table, alone in the room. She hugged him from behind. “Hey.”

He leaned into her cheek. “Hi.”

“What are you doing in here by yourself?” She pulled out the chair next to him and sat.

“I got Renata to tell me the entire Hour of Creation and recorded it here.” He tapped a few sheets of paper. “It’s pretty interesting, actually. The story says Yrdra is Ulthis’s sister.”

“Really?”

He laughed. “Yeah. I just wish Renata remembered the unchanged version so we could compare them.”

“Hmm. I wonder if the Caer library has anything on that.” If it did, that would also let her research another of her concerns. Were dragons natural creatures? Anaya had said dragons were made to assist humans. And the legend Renata had mentioned said that Yrdra created dragons, though that was part of the story that had been changed. Sharrah wanted to see the unaltered version.

“We should definitely check, and soon.” He stood and held out his hand. “You hungry? I’m starving. Let’s go grab dinner.”

+ + + + +

Isandath closed the book. The large volume, sheets of parchment bound in leather, slowly settled as the weight of the heavy cover pressed out the air between the pages. He stared at the shelves of books beyond the table. Shelves covered the walls of the archive rooms, and book and scroll cases formed aisles everywhere else. Here and there were tables surrounded by chairs, like little islands in the sea of glass and wood cabinets.