A Storm in the Desert: Dragonlinked Chronicles Voume 3 (9 page)

Twenty-five. That was the number of umeri which comprised a quorum. Half of the fifty-one members of the Umeri. If there were some kind of emergency, slightly different rules applied, but that had never happened. As long as there was at least a quorum, the umeri present cast their votes on an issue brought before them, then the Nesch voted. As for the Capu, that position only held a casting vote, a tie-breaker. The issue passed if the greater number of votes were yeas. Simple, really. All that was needed was a majority to vote the way you wanted.

How were the Umeri divided right now? Isandath rubbed his nose. Well, the percentages of Order members that were followers of the various factions were roughly reflected in the Umeri themselves. Thus, he could make a fairly good estimate using member numbers.

There were several factions in the Order. Many were small, however, and could be ignored. Additionally, with the strange undercurrents in recent months, many factions had fallen apart. Of those remaining, it seemed that there were three to which most people were gravitating.

The ‘old guard,’ firm in the belief that the Order had always been correct and should adhere even closer to the old ways, had been shrinking. He estimated that the umeri in that group, like Order members in general, now stood at around twenty percent. That only a fifth of the Order held to those old beliefs was heartening. It shouldn’t be surprising, he supposed. There were not many members alive who’d even seen a dragon, so old fears were perhaps being forgotten. With the recent supposed deaths by the creatures at the flats, however, more Order members were thinking like those old guard adherents. Their numbers would likely begin to grow.

The increasingly popular ‘isolationist’ group, as Isandath thought of them, made up a good portion of the Order, around ten percent. The manisi, they felt, should stop worrying about dragons, creatures most had never even seen, and should focus instead on maintaining the peace in Bataan-Mok and the surrounding villages. Forget about far away places—and non-existent dragons. Pull in the patrols and keep the locals safe. Most people had been gravitating to this group before the deaths in the flats. They’d even been able to influence the Order to reduce the area manis patrols covered. Isandath placed the number of umeri in this group at around seven.

The third faction was more secretive. They appeared to be working with outside people, but toward what purpose, Isandath had as of yet been unable to determine. They numbered somewhere between the old guard and the isolationists. He guessed there were six to twelve umeri in this group, at least based on who was meeting with whom and how often.

He thought there might be another important group, a mystery faction. Well, he was calling it a faction, though he had no idea as to their beliefs or purpose. The Order had a great number of members who had no obvious affiliation, and in fact, were conspicuous in their neutrality, even in the current, tense atmosphere. He suspected that many of the unaffiliated were actually part of this even more secretive group. So closed-mouthed was this group, however, their numbers were nearly impossible to estimate. Still, if only half of the unaffiliated were in the group, that was around thirty percent of the Order’s members. One would assume the unaffiliated umeri were at a similar ratio. If so, they numbered more than each of the other factions, but far short of a majority.

If the Order was going to change, this unknown group might be the only one who could do it. If their existence wasn’t a mirage, anyway, and if they could recruit more members and umeri to their cause.

Isandath placed his hand on the worked leather cover and sighed.

“You seem troubled, Archivist.”

The chair squeaked with the twitch his body made. He turned and spied the visitor. “Umeron, you startled me. How can I help you?” He stood.

A smile spread across the woman’s face. “I’d like to see the original translation that Daelon based the Hour of Creation upon.”

He tensed and blurted out, “Those documents are restricted.”

“Come now, Master Archivist. Umeri are allowed access.” One corner of her mouth quirked higher. “In fact, most of them have read the translations. I believe there are only two umeri that have not.” She quirked her lips in distaste. “Boring and lifeless, that pair. One has had the exact same meal for dinner the last four years. Can you imagine?”

His eyes widened slightly. How did she know all that? He bowed. “Of course, Umeron. I spoke without thinking. My apologies.”

Was she an Observer? They could be anyone. A guard walking down a hallway. A crusan carrying a tray of drinks. Even pesani, as young as they were, could be Observers.

“If you would accompany me?” He led her through the aisles to the far end of the archive floor.

Why would they send an Observer now, though? He hadn’t spoken openly of his concerns for years.

When they reached the heavy wooden door, he removed a key from his robe and unlocked it. It slid open silently. The chamber beyond was small, compared to the mostly open archive floor. Still, there was space enough for two tables. He guided her to one.

“If you would please be seated, I will retrieve the documents for you.”

“Thank you.” She sat and glanced about the room, eyes bright and curious.

He walked to where the translation was stored, a chest of drawers. From on top, he grabbed two pair of gloves and slipped one pair on. He slid open a wide drawer and removed a slim document press from within. He carried it and the other gloves back to the umeron.

“If you would put these gloves on? They will protect the documents.”

While the umeron silently did as asked, he placed the press before her. It contained several thin, metal frames mounted on hinges so that they could be flipped through, almost like the pages of a book. He opened the press, revealing the first frame. The sheet of parchment floated, suspended in the frame. It looked as if it were between two invisible pieces of glass, but that was not the case. Etched runes ran along the half-inch wide metal frame, symbols of the spell used to magically hold and protect its sheet of parchment.

“The pages are written on both sides,” he explained, “and even though they are protected with an enchantment, please take care as you flip the frames to view their reverse sides.”

He stepped back. “I’ll leave you to your reading.”

Before he could, however, she said, “Please, Master Archivist, keep me company.” She indicated the chair across the table from her.

He glanced at her, surprised. “As you wish, Umeron.” Making his way around the small table, he wondered why she wanted him to remain.

“Tevah.”

Hand on the back of the chair, Isandath paused. “Pardon?”

She carefully flipped the frame over. “My name is Tevah.”

He sat down. “Are you an Observer, Umeron Tevah? I’ve done nothing worthy of such.”

Her gaze flicked up to him and she smiled. “I am not an Observer. However, we do observe.” She returned to studying the page.

“We?”

Slowly flipping the frames, she stopped at the last page. “The founder omitted a few words near the end and inserted one word a little earlier. Doing so changed the meaning of the thing, made it specific.” She ran her gloved fingers across the page, almost reverently. “I’ve always wondered why he did that.” Tilting her head slightly, she looked thoughtful. “If you read this original form, it is unclear what Yrdra created, nor is it clear exactly what Ulthis gifted us with, aside from it being ‘attuned to the magic she used.’” She looked up at him. “Fascinating, don’t you think?”

Isandath didn’t know what to think. He frowned. “Who is this ‘we’ that observes?”

“Why, your mystery faction, of course.”

“How do you—” He stood. “You
are
an Observer.”

Her earrings tinkled when she looked up at him. “Peace, Isandath, peace.” She raised her hands. “As I said, I am not an Observer. But the Laminae do observe.”

He stared at her. “They still exist?”

“Indeed, we do.” She smiled. “And we control the Observers.”

+ + + + +

Piven stared at the man, waiting. He’d stand here all night without speaking if it came to that. He liked having a tongue. His boss sat in a large chair behind an enormous desk. The wall of windows behind the man revealed the night skyline of Stronghold.

“Did he have any specific evidence?”

“Not that I could find, sir. After returning into Delcimaar, he spent some time in a tavern before heading home. I searched the small cottage after I took care of him. There was nothing there, other than that notebook which I found hidden away.”

Thick fingers flipped through the small leather-bound book. “He seemed to know a great deal about our operations. According to this, he’d been looking into us for months before I set you to find our fly on the wall.” He closed the notebook and looked up. “Was he working with anyone?”

“I don’t think so. There was no one else at his home when I arrived and no evidence he was expecting anyone. No one came by all night, nor in the morning. I left an hour after sunup and took a train to get here as fast as I could.”

“One of Lord Eldin’s trains.”

“Yes, sir. One of his. And I took ours once I could. I was sure you wanted to hear back from me as soon as possible.”

“Were you able to learn the name of the person who set him on us?”

“There was no indication in that notebook nor in his home as to why he started looking into the flats.”

“I see.” Brows furrowed and lips turned downward in disappointment.

Piven swallowed. “The search for the bird continues at the nest, but perhaps it was someone from a village? A relative of one of those we had to take care of at the flats? His notebook says he spent some time in the villages.”

“Possibly. Get back to the mine and make sure they stay on schedule. While you’re there see if anything more can be learned about this man and any associates he may have had.” He stood and faced the windows, a dark shadow outlined by the lights of the city. “And Piven?”

“Sir?”

“Make sure there are no more flies buzzing around our pie.”

Aeron rolled on his side and curled up, covers pulled up to his chin. Just a few more minutes of toasty and warm and then he’d get ready for breakfast. He eyed Anaya through the door to the den. She was watching him, head resting on her forepaws. Their patrol was this evening, and he didn’t have another enchanting shift until tomorrow afternoon. He was glad that there was more time for naps and relaxation, now. There wasn’t nearly as much to worry about as there used to be.

I am hungry.
Anaya blinked at him.
Willem already took Balam to hunt.

I know.
He grabbed the other pillow, breathed in Willem’s scent, and smiled. The dull throb of hunger emanating from the link could not be ignored, however.
Alright, dear-heart. Let’s get you something to eat. Then I’ll grab a shower and my own breakfast.

He climbed out of bed and put on his riding pants. He grabbed the riding shirt he’d worn yesterday and sniffed it. It didn’t smell bad. He slipped it on, put on his riding jacket, and grabbed the rest of his gear. Getting Anaya ready took nearly as little time, as practiced as he now was.

Opening the dragon doors revealed an inch of snow covering the yard.

Great. There’d be raking duty after breakfast. Still, everything looked amazing right after a snowstorm. He buttoned up his jacket as Anaya walked out. He could feel her delight through the link.

We should jump in a big pile of it!

He slid the doors closed.
It seems like it was just another light snow, dear-heart. I’m not sure there are any piles big enough for you.

She let out a sad rumble.

A gasp of surprise from across the yard drew his attention.

Polandra, snow in her hair, stared wide-eyed at Renata. “I can’t believe you did that!” She quickly squatted and grabbed a handful of the white stuff and flung it at her friend.

Their happy squeals and screams as they ran after each other brought a smile to his face.

“Don’t you dare bring that in my rooms!” Renata raced inside her study and Polandra chased after. Moments later, an outraged yell was followed by Xochi’s grunting laughter.

Chuckling, Aeron climbed into the saddle. He patted Anaya on the neck.
Let’s catch you something to eat, sweetie.

There were a few tall clouds in the sky. The morning sun peeked through a bank of them. A glorious riot of reds, golds, and bright yellows blazed from the east. As Anaya made a slow turn around—it felt like she’d spied some prey—that same light shimmered through her massive wing, outlining the bones, tendons and veins in its thick membrane. Looking down, he saw a large deer about a quarter mile ahead of them in a gully between two fifty-foot walls of evergreens.

Whoomp! Whoomp! Whoomp!

The deep sound of Anaya’s wing beats increased in frequency as she raced for her meal. Aeron leaned low in the saddle and gripped its handholds.

Whoomp! Whoomp! Whoomp!

The air whipped past, and as Anaya angled lower into the ravine, trees flashed by in Aeron’s peripheral vision. Through the link, he felt Anaya’s entire attention focused on the animal they raced toward.

Whoomp! Whoomp! Whoomp!

She roared at it. Head whipping around, the deer saw them. Its tail lifted in alarm, and it began to race away, bounding down the ravine.

Anaya’s wings stopped beating. She held them still in an attack glide. They gave off a quiet thrum from the rushing air passing over them. The ground was nothing but a blur below as they drew rapidly closer to the fleeing creature.

Aeron’s heart pounded in his chest and he licked his lips. Closer and closer. Tree shadows flickered over them and cold air blasted his face.

A loud, hollow thump, a clipped grunt, and it was over.

Anaya lifted them into the sky, the dead deer dangling from her jaws and forepaws. He could feel her excitement through the link, her enormous heart pounding, and her slow, deep breaths.

At first, he’d had her hunt without him. Now, though, she was clever and skilled enough that they hunted together.

He’d prefer it, however, if she wouldn’t hunt things with horns.
You know how I feel about male deer.

I made sure to grab his neck in my jaws, and as I snapped it, I turned his head down and held it there. We were not in danger.

Fine. But you’ve almost gotten gored by horns before. If you do, I will be very upset.

I will be careful.

She landed and proceeded to have her breakfast. And lunch, and dinner, and the same for a couple of days. The meal would last her that long. A deer this size used to last longer, but with the flying patrols, all the dragons were eating more frequently.

Aeron stood several feet away, watching. Normally, he’d have skinned the deer and taken the hide back to Willem for his craft hall, but Anaya was in no mood this morning to delay eating that long. She’d been very hungry lately, for some reason.

Anaya, partially-split tongue licking blood from her lips and jaws, gave out a very satisfied half-grunt, half-sigh.

Aeron smiled.
Feeling better, dear-heart?

Much.

When she finished her after-meal grooming, he opened a portal back to the Caer and they flew through. Below, Willem was scraping the snow from in front of their stables with a shovel.

Aeron hopped off Anaya. “You know that the rest of us will be clearing the courtyard after breakfast, right?”

Willem looked up. “Yeah, but Balam wanted to lay in the sun after eating. I thought I’d clear part of it for him now. I have to head to my enchanting shift right after breakfast, so I won’t be able to help you guys clear the yard. This way, I can help a little, at least.”

“Anaya would probably like to lay in the sun, too, so I’ll help and we can clear enough for them both.” He picked up the snow broom. “You shovel a bit more and I’ll sweep the cleared spot, then we can swap.”

It didn’t take them long. Anaya and Balam both gave it rumbles of approval. She curled up at one end of the cleared area, gave out a quiet burp, and closed her eyes. Balam curled up next to her and gave Willem a chirp before closing his golden eyes as well.

“You guys finished?”

The rest of the dragonlinked were standing behind them in the courtyard.

“Oh.” Aeron smiled at Sharrah. “Yeah.”

“Great,” she said. “Let’s get breakfast.”

“Might as well leave those out,” Jessip said, pointing at the tools. “We’ll be needing them when we get back.”

Aeron glanced about the yard. “Yeah. Yeah, we will.” He frowned. A shower before breakfast would have been better, but hunting food for Anaya had taken a little longer than expected. He’d grab one after.

Once they were back from breakfast, Willem and Balam left. Aeron put showering off again until after the yard work. Might as well get this done first. Everyone grabbed a tool and got to it.

Looking around at the others, Aeron noticed he wasn’t the only one moving carefully. The hand-to-hand training had worked many of his muscles, and shoveling and sweeping the hard ground after was aggravating a few of them.

“I’m sore in places I didn’t even know had muscles.” Liara leaned back, hands at the small of her back, stretching.

Polandra watched her, smiling.

“
So
glad I’m not the only one.” Grimacing, Sharrah massaged her arms.

“Don’t get me wrong,” Liara said, hands raised at Polandra and Renata, “I love the training. I’ll just be happy when my body gets used to it.”

Aeron liked the training as well. Though he wasn’t getting the hang of it as fast as Willem was. Liara, too, was impressing him with how quickly she was learning the stances and moves.

“I love it.” Cheddar shoved a pile of snow to the side. Leaning on the shovel, he said, “There’s not a lot of exercise in Archive Craft. I love how the training makes me feel. Besides,” he waved his arms around and made strange noises, almost like animal cries, “if I can do even half of what Renata and Polandra can do, I’ll be happy.”

A pained expression on her face, Sharrah asked, “Was that supposed to be some kind of fight move? And what was that sound? A battle cry?”

Several of them started laughing, including Aeron.

“You’re just jealous.” Cheddar smiled and returned to shoveling snow.

Gregor and Guildmaster Millinith walked into the courtyard. As they headed for the office, he turned to them and said, “Sorry I’m late. I’ll be right out to help.”

A few minutes later, he joined them, broom in hand.

“Planning the next Animal Craft lessons?” Fillion said. He leaned to one side and lifted a shoulder, then leaned to the other side and lifted the other shoulder, stretching his back muscles.

Gregor shook his head. “No. My father wants to sign a contract with the guild to patrol his rail tracks.”

“Really?” Renata looked surprised.

“Yeah. He sent me maps showing the extent of the tracks. The Guildmaster wants to look them over to see if we have enough dragonlinked to take on new patrols along with those we do now.”

“I’m still angry at him for the way he talked about us at the approval meeting.” Fillion’s lips were pressed into a thin line.

Aeron wasn’t fond of the man either and wasn’t sure how he felt about working with him.

Gregor shrugged. “That’s just the way he is about many things, unfortunately. Not that I’m making excuses for him.”

Another ten minutes and the yard was cleared, the snow in several piles outside the fences.

“Now that that’s done,” Gregor said, “who can take me to see Kisa? I want to check on her before class.”

“I should check on Mia as well.” Liara was frowning. “She sleeps most of the day, so mornings and evenings before she eats are the only chances I get to catch her awake, it seems.”

Aeron chuckled. “That’s exactly how it’ll be, at least for a month or so.”

“I’ll take y’all,” Fillion said. “Just let me put this broom away and saddle Coatl.” He trotted to his stable.

“I’ll help.” Gregor followed after.

Polandra said,“I’d like to see the young ones again.” She glanced at Liara and Renata. “My Ikan was fully grown when we bonded, so I missed his youth. I find the little ones very charming.” With an exasperated look on her face, she turned to her stable and put her hands on her hips. “Oh, hush. I still love you, you big beast. Who do you think is going to take me to the caves, anyway?” She turned to Liara and rolled her eyes. “They never actually grow up, it seems.”

“I’d like to see them, too.” Renata smiled. “They’re so adorable at that age.” She turned to Jessip. “Want to come ?”

“I wish I could, but Zolin has been complaining since breakfast that I didn’t take him hunting.” He made his voice deep, in imitation of his dragon. “Balam and Anaya’s bond-mates took them hunting today, why didn’t you take me? I’m hungry.” The last he whined.

A rumble came from their stable.

“You were, too, whining!” Jessip said, facing the dragon doors. “Don’t forget, I can feel exactly how hungry you really are.” He turned back to the others, a smile on his face. “He’s such a lovable goof. At any rate, I’ll have to visit them tonight, I’m thinking. If I don’t hunt him now, Zolin will mope all day.”

“Don’t take too long,” Aeron said. “Lessons start in half an hour. And speaking of which, I need to grab a shower beforehand, so I’ll see you all in class.”

Balam was gone with Willem, but Anaya still lay curled up in the sun just outside the stable. It was cold out here, as was the ground, but dragons could heat themselves when needed. Besides, the stables sheltered the yard somewhat, kept off the wind near them, so the sun on their backs was plenty to keep the dragons warm. Aeron smiled and checked her through the link—she was merely dozing, not very deep asleep—then he nodded at the guard in passing and entered his study. He grabbed a change of clothes and headed to the Bath Hall.

The tub room was nearly deserted. Most people bathed before breakfast or after dinner, so the rest of the time there were plenty of tubs and showers available. He was in a bit of a hurry, however, so a good soak would have to wait until another day.

Choosing a shower near the end, he set his carryall down on the wooden bench nearby and undressed. He adjusted the temperature of the water to be fairly hot. A quick, toasty shower would ease his muscles somewhat. Not as good as a steaming soak in a tub, but it would do for now.

He stood under the heavy fingers of water—he’d set the water volume high, too—and let them play over his back and shoulders.

Ahhhhh.

A few minutes under the soothing streams was all he could afford, however. He got some shampoo and rubbed it in, lathering it up. Then he grabbed a bar of soap and proceeded to scrub himself clean. Not too long after, he stepped back under the relaxing hot water for a rinse. Feeling much better, he toweled off and got dressed.

As he entered the courtyard, he saw that it was empty, save for Anaya. Everyone had yet to return from their various trips. Anaya lay in the same place she was. She looked so peaceful. He couldn’t help but smile. Gods, she was beautiful.