Of Gods, Trees, and a Sapling: Dragonlinked Chronicles Volume 4

by Adolfo Garza Jr.

  Antsy?

  “Nervous or twitchy.” Fillion also stared at the building. “As if ants were crawling inside his pants.”

  Coatl rumbled. Another word that actually made sense.

  “I’ll leave a note for Officer Bess at the police department,” Master Gella said. “Someone should definitely keep an eye on Tobin.” She turned to Fillion. “Did your examination of the body jibe with a nahual attack?”

  Fillion nodded. “It did. And it worries me.”

  “Why?”

  Fillion glanced at Coatl and then at Master Gella. “The nahual-ton must have known Preeti was there. The lockers are only fifty or sixty feet away, well within the range of their ability to sense people.”

  “Why does that worry you?”

  Coatl turned to Master Gella. It did not attack the girl. Once it was finished with her father, it left.

  Fillion glanced at him and nodded. “Exactly. That probably means it has gathered enough animus. If true, that means somewhere out there, a new nahual will soon be born. Will it also be a nahual-ton, able to go anywhere it wants, no one the wiser?”

  “The Guildmaster said that variety of nahual was somewhat rare.” Master Gella looked and felt concerned. “Should I be worried?”

  “This is only the fourth or fifth one I’ve heard of. Still, the fact that they are invisible to most people is cause for concern, especially if their numbers are growing.”

  “Constables, officers, and watchmen—on patrol and at gates—have kept most communities safe from nahual so far.” Master Gella looked toward the building, thoughts on the body inside. “But how can they protect against that which they cannot see?” She turned to Fillion. “Could I impose on your goodwill a bit more?”

  “Of course. What do you need?”

  “Before you leave, could we do a pass around the docks? See if that nahual is still about?”

  “Absolutely,” Fillion said.

  Coatl barked in agreement. The nahual-ton was nowhere near the docks, they would have sensed it, but a large circular patrol should catch the beast. It could not have gotten that far since the attack, and he wanted to eliminate the creature that had made Preeti so sad.

  Some time later, however, even after two trips around the area in ever expanding circles, they had found no nahual.

  Coatl tried to clear his mind, the better to focus on the nahual-sense, but their failure to locate the beast confounded him. How could they not find it? Was another ability of nahual-ton that of faster travel?

  Master Gella says to return to the police building.

  He rumbled angrily.

  I feel the same, big guy, but it’s gone, somehow.

  He let out a frustrated bark and banked to the left to head back.

  On the roof of the police station, Master Gella hopped off. “Thank you for your help. I’ll let the Guildmaster know when I need you again.”

  “I’m sorry we couldn’t seem to find that nahual-ton.”

  “In regard to that, you might let Guildmaster Millinith know that I’m going to speak with High Lady Hasana about delivering a contract to the guild, concerning nahual patrols of the larger towns and cities.”

  Worry came through the link from him. “I’m not sure we have enough—”

  “I know your numbers are few, right now, but we must address attacks from nahual-ton. Tell your guildmaster. It’ll give her time to think on it.”

  “I will.”

  + + + + +

  “You had to know this kind of request would come, eventually.” Doronal smiled at Millinith. She sat on the edge of the bed, scowling. He no longer wondered how it was possible that she could be so damned attractive no matter how she comported herself. He’d long ago just accepted it. Now, however, he could enjoy it fully. He once again thanked whichever of the gods had smiled upon him.

  “Of course, I did.” She let out a frustrated breath. “I just hoped for more time.”

  As they’d gotten ready for bed, she’d relayed to him Fillion’s report on their doings in Stronghold, the attack by a nahual-ton, and Master Gella’s advance notice of a future contract request. A contract that would likely require more dragonlinked than they currently had.

  He shrugged. “You and I could handle a few of the patrols.”

  She looked up at him and grabbed a lock of hair that hung at the side of her face. Twirling it around a finger, she said, “That’s true. And, as with our current regional patrols, they don’t have to be done but maybe once every couple of weeks.”

  “The real difficulty,” Doronal said as he sat next to her, “will be juggling the patrol schedules between our region, Continental Transportation’s rail lines, the villages in the desert, and these additional patrols.”

  She pursed her lips, and her nose scrunched up a bit as she thought.

  He couldn’t help but smile.

  Millinith glanced at him. “Why are you smiling? This could be a problem depending on how soon she presents the contract.”

  He chuckled. “I’m smiling because you’re beautiful.”

  Her cheeks flushed.

  He laughed. “Why so flustered?”

  “It’s embarrassing.” She fell back onto a pillow. “My looks aren’t under my control. I was born with them. I didn’t earn them, hells I didn’t even strive for them, so it’s like complimenting the air for being breathable. And to be honest, I always thought I was a bit plain.”

  “Out of all the words I’d use to describe you, plain isn’t one of them. And I wasn’t just talking about your looks.” He couldn’t keep the wolfish grin from his lips. “Though, as I have mentioned before, I do think every inch of you is spectacular.”

  Her cheeks flushed even darker.

  “You are beautiful. Your thoughts, your actions, the little things you do, especially the unconscious ones. Everything that makes you who you are is what makes you beautiful.”

  A rumble came from the den. You truly are smitten with her.

  Huemac, I’ve been in her thrall since the day I met her. She was seeing someone at the time, however, and I am years older than her, so I kept my distance. The former is no longer the case, and she doesn’t seem to care about the latter, so I’ll try not to anymore, either.

  “You know,” she turned on her side and looked at him, a gleam in her eye, “I never once entertained the idea of crossing the hallway.”

  It was his turn to blush. He’d once had a dream, which had embarrassed him for days, where she had left her room in the Magic Craft Hall, crossed the hallway into his, and—

  “Perhaps I should have.” Her lips curved in a slow smile. “Why don’t you show me again the specifics of what exactly you find spectacular.”

  Doronal chuckled. How could I not care for this woman? Everything about her binds my heart ever more tightly to her.

  + + + + +

  On his back, blanket clutched in his hands, Chanté stared at the darkness between the trees surrounding their small camp. You feel nothing?

  Did you not say we would both feel it if one were near?

  Yes, I did.

  And do you feel one? Sarcasm—a feeling he was quite familiar with, having made use of it quite often as his former self—came strongly through the link.

  Brows drawn together, he turned his gaze on Nantli He pushed as much scolding as he could muster through the link. Now see here, I am your elder by thousands of eons, at least.

  Far from feeling chastised, she let out a grunting laugh and rested her chin on her forepaws. The light of the campfire danced in her large eyes.

  Frustratingly, instead of making him angry, her laugh made him want to smile.

  “Worry about nahual keeping you awake?” Quillan tossed a large branch on the fire.

  How did he know? “Y–Yes. Nantli, though, thinks it humorous.”

  Quillan turned to her and smiled. “So she was laughing. Dragons are amazing.” He slipped back into his camp bed. “From what I was told, the Dragon Craft Guild patrols this trail for a h
undred miles out from Caer Baronel, checking for nahual. We’re well within that patrol range, so we should be safe.”

  Chanté nodded and watched the fire. Every now and again, when one of the branches popped, sparks would rise up into the sky, looking as if they were joining the spectacular sea of stars above.

  “So your father apparently hates you, but do you have someone special waiting for you wherever you’re from? A girl? A boy?”

  Special? Chanté twisted his lips. Whatever that meant, he doubted anyone was waiting for him. “Things are . . . different there. Before I created—”

  Chanté.

  He glanced at Nantli and back at Quillan. “—a, ah, bit of a stir with my actions, I spent most of my time, well, wasting it. Wagers, dares, stupid japes and pranks, I did them all and more whenever we happened to gather. I guess I understand why some may have eventually tired of me. I’m fairly certain my, ah, sister hates me for that, thinks me an idiot.” He shook his head. “When not being a fool, I tended to spend most of my time alone. And thinking back on it, I guess we all did.”

  “Japes and pranks? You seem more of a serious person.”

  He drew his brows together. “I’m a little out of sorts right now.”

  “Mmm, I can understand why. This land and its people must seem strange, and you must feel a bit alien here, too. Out of place.”

  Astonished, Chanté looked at him. That . . . was exactly how he felt.

  “I used to have someone special, a girlfriend.” Quillan chuckled and said, “Well, we’d gone on one date. I’d known of her for years, though. She was nice. Pretty laugh, pretty eyes, and her lips when she smiled . . .” His own smile faded. “Then my master was killed by a nahual and everything changed.”

  He looked at the fire. “I realized that I’d not really thought much about what I was doing. Once done with school, you found a profession, right? And that’s what I did. Just like everyone. Perhaps that’s why I wasn’t as dedicated to my Smith Craft lessons as I should have been. In a sense, I was a little like you, I guess. Wasting my time.”

  His brows furrowed. “After Master Retter was killed, I decided to focus. I left Cotter’s Grove for the Smith Craft Hall in Delcimaar. The first months of training, I spent every night reading and researching. I wanted to know everything about Smith Craft—the art of it, the technical aspects, and where it was heading. That’s one of the reasons I took Magic Craft as a secondary. I still like to read up on anything relating to either field. Then last week I left Delcimaar to put in an application at the Dragon Craft Guild.”

  Quillan took a deep breath and let it out. “I’m not certain why I decided to apply. I mean, I was doing well in Smith Craft as a machine engineer specialist. I just felt . . . I don’t know, trapped, I guess, by expectations. The guild’s and my own.”

  He looked up at the night sky. “I’d been there for a couple of years trying to at least approach the skill of my late master. I felt that if I could do that, then his death would not have been a waste.” He shook his head. “But try as I might, I couldn’t, so I switched to Machine Engineering. And even though I did very well as a machinist, I still felt my smithing failure every day. When someone pointed me in the direction of the Dragon Craft Guild, I jumped at the chance to leave. Maybe there I’ll find . . . something, a direction, a way forward.”

  Quillan chuckled. “Maybe I do know why I’m going to apply.” He turned to Chanté and smiled.

  Chanté stared at him.

  Once he got food and shelter for himself and Nantli, then what? What would he do? What could he do? Ulthis would have been able to do anything, but he wasn’t Ulthis anymore. Thanks to his father, he was stuck here as a human with much more limited options and only the vaguest of directions. In a very real sense, he, too, was trapped with little idea of what to do.

  Did all humans have to discover a way forward? As often as he’d casually watched their lives unfold, he’d never really focused his full attention on them, and perhaps that was why he never fully understood the people he was observing.

  Truth be told, he didn’t understand everything Quillan had talked about, either, but even so, he felt . . . something. A kind of companionship, of having gone through or felt similar things. He had no idea what to call it, but it made him happy that he and Nantli had come across Quillan.

  Camaraderie.

  Still looking at Quillan, Chanté nodded. I see.

  Quillan’s eyes shone with reflected firelight, like Nantli’s had. Chanté felt something else, too, a kind of . . . warmth. As he tried to determine what exactly it was, some slight change in Quillan’s expression made him realize that they’d been staring at each other, silently, for some time. Doing so was pleasant, but was it odd to stare like this? With no experience actually being around people, around humans, he didn’t know.

  Unsure what to do, he looked back at the fire.

  A branch popped loudly, sending a flurry of sparks upward.

  “What about you? You said something earlier today about being bonded with Nantli, so it makes sense to go to the guild for that reason, but was there anything else?”

  Chanté stared at the flickering flames. “My father told me to live,” he glanced at Quillan, “but I don’t know what that means.” He looked again into the fire, at the coals glowing at its heart. “I know some of the things one needs to survive. I’ve never had to provide for myself, however, so I don’t know exactly how to get those things. I thought joining the guild would at least address food and shelter while I figure out—”

  A direction?

  He glanced at Nantli.

  She blinked and turned her gaze toward Quillan.

  Refusing to be baited, Chanté glanced back at the fire. “—exactly what we’re going to do.”

  “That’s logical. And I’m sorry for slowing you down.”

  He turned to Quillan and drew his brows together. “What do you mean?”

  “If you’d flown on ahead with Nantli, you’d be there by now.”

  “We wouldn’t even know where the guild was, if not for you. And besides, I’d rather not go alone, my bond-mate notwithstanding.”

  “Well, we’ll be there, together, in a couple of days or so.”

  Chanté nodded.

  Quillan yawned. “Well, good night,” he said. Turning on his side, he closed his eyes.

  Chanté looked back at the campfire. What was he going to do?

  We will do what we will do.

  He glanced at Nantli.

  Chin still on her forepaws, she lay there, eyes closed.

  He frowned. Letting the dice roll was one thing, there were definite odds as to the results, but just seeing what would happen with no idea as to what could come? Is that what she meant?

  The idea left him feeling less than comfortable. While Ulthis could handle almost any circumstance, could he?

  Chapter 3

  Sulday, Quartus 12, 1875.

  Morning.

  Millinith stared at her reflection as she brushed her teeth. She had to be careful not to smile too big or toothpaste foam would dribble out of her mouth.

  You seem happy.

  Because I am, gorgeous dragon.

  Doronal has proven to be quite accomplished at—

  Yes, she interrupted quickly, halting that line of conversation. Yes, he has.

  She was starting to get used to the presence of Itzel constantly at the back of her mind, but there were still times when it was a touch embarrassing. Everything one bond-mate experienced, so did the other. Perhaps in time nothing shared would embarrass her afterward. At least she hoped so.

  I will have to speak with Huemac. Calm contemplation came through the link from Itzel. He had better be paying attention to Doronal’s skills.

  The sudden laugh almost made Millinith spit toothpaste on the mirror.

  Thinking on last night made her smile again. Why had she waited so long to assert herself? She had been fairly busy the past couple of years. Still, if she’d left it up to Do
ronal, nothing would have ever happened. He had some silly idea about their age difference mattering. Now that she and he were together, she felt happier. It seemed he was, too. And they both had bond-mates! She and he could fly together anywhere on Lethera. Not that she currently had much time for pleasures like that, but at some point they definitely would.

  Thinking about the four of them flying together reminded her of the unknown dragonlinked.

  “I thought I heard you laugh, but you look glum.” Stepping next to her, Doronal grabbed his toothbrush and, after applying a glob of toothpaste, got to brushing.

  “It bothers me that there’s a dragonlinked somewhere out there that we know nothing about.”

  “Unfortunately, we can’t control who bonds with a dragon.”

  “I wonder.” Millinith spat out toothpaste and rinsed her mouth.

  “As nice as that would be,” Doronal said, “it is impossible. Besides which, a dragon won’t choose just anyone. We need not worry about unscrupulous people bonding with a dragon.”

  He speaks the truth. Itzel sounded very matter-of-fact. She and Huemac were not twenty feet away, in the dragon den accessible by short passages from the office and the bedroom.

  I know, love. What worries me is that there’s a dragonlinked out there who may not know everything they need to. What if they let their dragon eat chocolate, for instance?

  I see what you mean. Xochi warned me about chocolate in a great deal of detail. A slight feeling of disgust came through the link.

  Millinith chuckled. Xochi, Renata’s bond-mate, had gotten incredibly ill when she’d eaten cookies containing chocolate. The young dragon had probably related all the unpleasantness of how chocolate affects dragons to Itzel.

  “What did she say?”

  Millinith glanced at Doronal. He knew the tell-tale signs of someone speaking with their bond-mate. “Itzel agrees with you.”

  “See?” He smiled. “There’s—”

  “But,” she wiped stray toothpaste from the side of his mouth, “I explained that I’m more concerned about unguilded bond-mates making mistakes from lack of knowledge. Chocolate was the example I used.”

  Doronal frowned. “Good point. Still, the most we can do at this time is to make a few inquiries about sightings of unknown dragons.”