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

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Of Gods, Trees, and a Sapling: Dragonlinked Chronicles Volume 4 Page 32

by Adolfo Garza Jr.


  + + + + +

  “Lady Hasana should be taken to task for abandoning us!”

  Trying to ignore the heat and the yelling man, Preeti wiped her brow and grabbed another stack of flyers. Her stomach growled and she tried to ignore the hunger as well.

  She held out a pamphlet to a passing woman.

  Gaze on the crier, the woman shook her head and walked on.

  “The High Lady has nothing to do with this!”

  Preeti glanced at the person who’d yelled.

  The man stood in the small crowd to the left of the crier’s makeshift stand. He raised his fist. “Why don’t you talk about the city council who’ve only sat on their asses this whole time?”

  “Yeah!” A woman near him in the crowd raised her own fist. “They’re as much to blame, if not more!”

  “If you dislike the truth, then leave.”

  Preeti missed who’d said that. Someone in the crowd to the right of the crier, no doubt. They’d traded occasional words with the other crowd all day.

  Preeti truly hated being here. She’d often been dragged out to places like this by her father to hand out flyers. Now, Uncle Tobin was making her do the same thing. At least it took one’s mind off the hunger. Sort of.

  A man refused a flyer and picked up his pace, walking quickly away.

  Preeti sighed and waited for another passer-by.

  “The city council can only do so much,” the crier said. “Stronghold’s coffers are running low from supporting us while we try to recover from the economic disaster that was the horse flu. Meanwhile, instead of helping us in our time of need, what does Lady Hasana do? She shuts down National Transportation, one of the largest employers in the city!”

  He held his hands out to the crowds, almost as if he were pleading. “We’ve all been through so much. And now we are even besieged by those terrible beasts, the nahual, and still the Low Lady does nothing!”

  “High Lady, you disrespectful ass!” The man in the left crowd took a step forward.

  “Hold your tongue, lady-lover!”

  The man turned to the woman in the other crowd. “I support our High Lady, yes. What of it?”

  “You’re just smitten with the little girl.”

  The man frowned. “Little girl? The High Lady’s in her thirties, a woman grown.” He chuckled. “Of course, compared to you, grandmother, mayhap she is a little girl.”

  The woman’s eyes narrowed. “You can’t manage to get a real lover, so you have to imagine yourself with the girl. Is that it?”

  He took a step toward her and leaned forward slightly in a mock bow. “I manage my love life just fine, thank you.”

  “Sure you do. From the looks of you, you’ve never had a lover. Are you still a virgin? At your age?”

  “Watch your tongue, old woman, or I’ll have it out.”

  Someone grabbed Preeti’s arm, making her jump. It was Uncle Tobin.

  “It’s time to go,” he whispered.

  The woman laughed. “Is your member too small to hold onto lovers? Is that why you have to fantasize—”

  The slap echoed from the walls of the buildings.

  The shocked silence lasted but maybe two seconds before the crowds erupted. Fighting was everywhere—angry yells, thrown punches, even the glint of sunlight from drawn blades. Preeti felt faint pulses of magic from nearby, as well.

  As Uncle Tobin pulled her away, Preeti stared at the old woman who’d been slapped. She stood to the side, watching the fight. Why was she smiling?

  They ran down the street away from the violence, but the same sounds she’d heard as they’d run away now came from ahead. There was fighting up there, too. Uncle Tobin ducked into an alley, and as Preeti followed, she glimpsed the same thing as before. Another crowd was brawling at the street corner, and there was a crier’s stand on the sidewalk nearby.

  She hurried along the alley to keep up. “What’s going on, Uncle? Why is everyone fighting?”

  He glanced over his shoulder at her. “Mayhap it’s the heat. Who can say?”

  Preeti stared at him. He was lying.

  They passed more fights on the way to Uncle Tobin’s house. She saw bloodied people, caught glimpses of others huddled in alleys, and saw many running to or from the brawls. In some places, entire intersections were filled with angry crowds.

  Fortunately, Uncle Tobin seemed to know his way around the city and they left such sights quickly behind. As they dashed along streets and alleys, Preeti also spotted police officers every now and again, trying to get the fights under control. It seemed like they eventually started to gain the upper hand, because by the time she and Uncle Tobin got to the house, she hadn’t seen a fight for several streets.

  When they walked in, her aunt rushed to Uncle Tobin. “Thank the gods you’re okay!”

  As he tried to calm her down, Preeti left him to it.

  She lay down on the bed in the tiny room that was hers and stared at the ceiling. She, too, was disturbed by the morning’s events. The smile on the woman’s face, the crier’s stands at all those brawls, and the look in Uncle Tobin’s eyes left her with but one conclusion. The fights had been started on purpose.

  What had her father been involved with? What was Uncle Tobin still involved with?

  + + + + +

  Hasana stared out the window. The message from Master Gella had been disturbing. Though the riots were under control now, the mere fact that there had been any at all was telling. The unease of the people in Stronghold was indeed great if small altercations could spread and grow into near city-wide riots. If Master Gella’s suspicions were correct, however, many of the fights, if not all of them, had been deliberately started.

  Hasana could take some small comfort that different reasons already had the special investigator there. The woman’s task would be made more difficult, however. Not only did she have to discover who was spreading the rumors, now she needed to discover who was behind the riots, and at the same time, assist the local police in maintaining order. The Dragon Craft Guild would be queried in that regard.

  Maintaining order was a stopgap measure, however. It was the unease of the people, their despair, that was being taken advantage of. If their fears could be allayed, there would be nothing to feed upon and used to incite riots.

  But how? Almost everything she’d tried to do to assist Stronghold had been circumvented or outright declined by their city council.

  She narrowed her eyes. Actually, it wasn’t Stronghold the city that needed assistance, was it? It was the people. So then, how could she help people, bypassing the obstinate city council if necessary?

  She turned the chair to the desk, pressed a metal stud, and waited.

  A knock on the door preceded it opening. Her secretary walked in and bowed his head. “My lady?”

  “Could you set up a map displaying the middle of the continent to the east coast? I need to do some research.”

  “Of course, ma’am. I will let your ladyship know when it is ready.”

  She smiled. “Thank you.”

  Another bow and he left.

  Hasana grabbed a sheet of paper and a pen, set them on the desk before her, then cracked her knuckles in a very un-High Lady-like way.

  Right. What people needed were jobs so that they could provide for themselves and their families. All she had to do was figure out how to create jobs in such a way so as not to require any city council’s assistance or permission. And, too, what kind of jobs could she proffer?

  She picked up the pen and listed some preliminary ideas.

  + + + + +

  It is enormous.

  Looking around at the frankly huge city of Stronghold, Millinith nodded. It’s a great deal larger than the Guildhall and even Caer Baronel. I’ll take you to Delcimaar, soon, so you can see that city as well.

  Unease came through the link. I am not certain that I like it here.

  Itzel was more shy than her blood brother, Ikan, and tended to not like being around a lot of people. S
he could no doubt sense dozens and dozens nearby.

  Millinith patted her neck. I shouldn’t be too long, love. Let’s get down there, though, so I can see what Gella needs.

  With an uncertain rumble, Itzel descended to the roof.

  Fillion had opened this portal for her and Itzel. Now she’d be able to do so herself, should the need arise again. The requirement to actually go somewhere in person before you could open a portal there was frustrating, but that was just the way it worked.

  Wings beating, Itzel landed near a cordoned-off area. The rooftop didn’t look exactly as Fillion had described it. Construction of some kind appeared to be under way.

  “Guildmaster.” Gella rose up from within the opening in the roof. A tarp, suspended over the construction, shaded her from the bright sunlight. “My apologies for the work being done here. Once it is complete, however, dragonlinked will have stairs they can take into the building, instead of this ladder.”

  Millinith nodded. “I see.” She turned to Itzel. Take your ease up here, love. I’ll be just inside.

  Itzel eyed the workers, then chose a spot as far from them as possible and lay down, tail curled near her nose. Her large eyes stared at Millinith.

  Feeling a little guilty, Millinith sent a mental hug through the link. I’ll return as soon as I can.

  Itzel let out a quiet chirp.

  At the bottom of the ladder, Gella led her to the left and then to one of a number of doors in the hallway. They sat at a large table within the room.

  “Thank you for coming at my sudden request. I did not mean to interrupt your lunch.”

  Millinith waved her hand. “Pay that no mind. It sounded important, and besides, lunch won’t be for an hour and a half at the Guildhall.”

  Gella shook her head. “Of course. It’s two hours earlier there. The riots have me a little flustered.”

  “From how you described them, I can imagine. So, what did you wish to speak of?”

  Gella took a breath. “I had suspicions that the numerous small fights which led to the riots were started deliberately, and initial investigations by my people here are so far supporting that hunch.”

  Millinith frowned. “Deliberately?”

  “Yes. And the same people involved with slandering High Lady Hasana’s name may be involved.”

  “Who are they?”

  “We’re attempting to gather information on their organization but progress is slow. There are layers and layers to sift through, unfortunately. Whoever they are, they’ve been planning and organizing very carefully in order to cover their tracks. That matter is one for me and my team, however.”

  She clasped her hands. “What I wanted to ask you about has to do with preventing future riots.”

  Millinith raised her brows. “Oh? How so?”

  “I’d like to expand the purpose of your nahual patrols. I know that dragons can sense, even if feebly, a person’s thoughts. I’d like the patrols to keep an ear open, so to speak, for trouble-makers.”

  Millinith sat back in the chair. That use for dragons had never occurred to her. Now that Gella mentioned it, however, it was a wonder that no one had come up with the idea before. On the surface, it sounded like a good way to keep the peace. If you dug a little deeper, however . . .

  Itzel, can you tell what Gella is thinking right now?

  She is far away. I will only be able to sense things she feels strongly about.

  That should suffice. What can you tell me about her thoughts?

  I see you in her thoughts. She seems focused on your face and, especially, your hair. I get the impression that she thinks your blonde hair is nice.

  Really?

  She also seems to think it is . . . pretty?—I am not sure of the right word—that you play with your hair.

  Millinith stopped twirling the lock of hair around her finger and stifled a laugh. She looked at Gella. “You think my hair is pretty? And that it’s cute when I twirl it with my finger?”

  Shock and confusion warred with each other on Gella’s face and her cheeks darkened. “How—who told—” A look of realization cleared all else from her expression. “Itzel.”

  Millinith nodded. “My apologies for that, but as you yourself just experienced, people expect that their thoughts are private. I would go further and say that they have a right to that privacy.”

  She shook her head. “I’m afraid I cannot agree to wholesale snooping inside people’s heads on the off-chance that we might catch someone thinking about causing trouble. It’s an invasion of their innermost being and . . . it’s just not right.”

  “Your demonstration certainly makes me think twice about it,” Gella said. She tugged on her ear. “You didn’t mind dragons reading the thoughts of prisoners when I asked before, however.”

  “Those were entirely different situations. There were only a few of them, and you already had proof of their guilt. Your request today is to pry into any number of people’s thoughts in the hopes of finding someone who is plotting something.”

  “That’s an awfully thin line to draw in the sand.”

  Millinith shrugged. “At times, thin lines are all that separate us from tyrants.”

  Gella grunted and leaned back in her chair. “Point taken. Still, this request is limited in scope, in the sense that I’m specifically looking for people stirring up riots and only until we catch whoever is instigating them.”

  “Even so,” Millinith said, “you’d have dragons prying into random people’s heads, the majority of whom, perhaps even all, are innocent of instigating lawlessness.”

  “I highly doubt that those involved have left the city, so some of those random people will not be innocent. Call me annoyingly persistent, if you will, but I am loath to give up on this completely.”

  Gella drummed her fingers on the table. “Tell me, how exactly does a dragon’s sensing of thoughts work? Is it difficult? Something they have to concentrate on?”

  Millinith blinked. “I . . . actually don’t know. Let me ask.” Do you have to actively try to sense a person’s thoughts?

  I can focus on a person and thus know their thoughts, but people thinking strongly enough about something create thoughts that wash over us like leaves in a breeze. There is no specific person attached to them. All we get is a general . . . direction? We must focus on one of those thoughts if we wish to know who it comes from.

  Ah, I see. Millinith tugged on a lock of hair. “Owing to the way the sense works, there may be a way.”

  Gella leaned forward. “Oh?”

  “Itzel tells me that dragons initially sense strong thoughts like leaves caught in a breeze. A bit like we hear people in a crowd—voices washing over us. There isn’t necessarily a person attached to a thought, at first, just a general direction. They have to focus in on it to find its owner. As such, those kinds of random thoughts are somewhat anonymous.”

  “That’s perfect!”

  “No,” Millinith said, “it’s not. Though the thoughts are anonymous, dragons still hear things that people expect to be private.” She drummed her fingers on the table. “That being said, dragons can’t not hear thoughts. It would be like us trying to not hear voices in a crowd, except that dragons don’t have ears they can plug, as it were. As such, I suppose dragons on patrol can be instructed to tell their bond-mates if they sense anyone thinking about starting more riots.”

  “That would suit me perfectly.”

  “Dragons will be instructed, however, as will their bond-mates, that people’s random thoughts are not to be discussed with anyone except, perhaps, in a general sense.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “If a dragon doesn’t understand a thought, for example, they could ask their bond-mate about it. They should leave out specific details, however, that might identify the person thinking the thought unless and until it is determined that the person warrants further investigation specifically for planning to start riots.”

  “Ah, yes. I see.”

  Millinith rais
ed a finger. “And I’m fairly certain that thoughts intercepted by dragon will not be accepted as evidence in a court of law anytime soon, if ever. I’d actually prefer we not let the knowledge that they hear thoughts spread too far.”

  “All good points. Still, if they find anything it will give us a direction for further inquiries, or at the very least, a solid place to start.”

  Millinith said, “I think we have an agreement, then. The guild has changed how we patrol for nahual, incidentally. We now only do so at night. Therefore, I’ll need to assign specific daytime patrols to search out any people that might be instigating fights.”

  They spent the next hour or so going over plans for the patrols. Gella said she’d put a contract together for this short-term patrol duty and have it ready within the day.

  As Itzel’s wings pounded, lifting them from the roof, Millinith pondered this new development. It seemed ethics lessons would need to be added to dragonlinked training. She doubted a dragon would want to bond with someone who had no scruples, but the lessons would serve as a reminder of the special responsibilities dragons and their bond-mates had.

  You do realize that the fewer people there are nearby the less anonymous their thoughts will be.

  I know, love, but it’s the best we can do. As long as dragons don’t go blabbing about what they hear, people’s thoughts will be as private as they can be.

  + + + + +

  Cadoc sipped his drink and flipped a page of the Sportsman’s Review. He really couldn’t understand the allure that gambling held for some people, the irresistible urge they had to fritter away their money on dogs or horses or cards and such on the off chance of winning back their losses. Gambling, placing a bet even, was amusing, but win or lose, it was just a game to him. He could take or leave it. There were those who apparently could not.

  He glanced around the pub. The light in here was deliberately kept somewhat dim, and the furnishings were the same—dark shades of red and brown. Aside from the bar itself, sturdy tables, mostly empty, filled this room and lined the walls. Paintings hung on those dark walls, scenes of hunting, mostly, though there were two landscapes. As for the people in here, there were more than a few who looked as if their time would be better spent somewhere else. There was one person, however, who was not here.

 

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