Cadoc left the elevator, and once outside the manor, eschewed Koen’s private carriages, instead walking down the drive and then along the street. Some minutes later, he spied a public cabriolet and waved it down. He gave the driver the address, and climbed in, setting aside the leather carrying tube. Closing his eyes, he performed breathing exercises while the cab made its way to the destination.
The driver clucking at the horses made him open his eyes. The cab slowed and came to a stop. Glancing out the window, he saw that they’d arrived. He grabbed the tube, climbed out, and paid the driver. While the cab clacked away down the cobbled street, he turned to the building. It was a large structure, five stories tall. He had no idea what sort of companies had offices in it.
Walking in the building, he immediately made for the back door. Sparing not even a glance at anyone he passed, he continued to the exit. The alley behind was relatively clean, which always surprised him for being in this part of the city. He turned left and walked for perhaps half an hour before he arrived at the side alley he was looking for.
He stepped into it and glanced around. Finding himself alone, he located the touch-spot on his coat and ran his finger over it in the proper sequence of strokes. The coat, a nice charcoal gray, turned a dark red, the color of blood cherries. Quick strokes on pants and each shoe, and he was now completely clad in deep crimson.
One last thing. A quick cast of the enchantment and an oval outline of light appeared around his face, though he could only see the edges of the oval directly to the left and right of his eyes. The outline appeared empty to him, but from the other side, all anyone could see was a white shell covering his face, with two black slits for eyes. The enchantment had an additional effect. It altered his voice.
He continued down the side-alley and entered the rear of the wide building. At the end of a short hallway, he stepped out into a large, open space.
“Good morning, gentle people.” His voice sounded like that of a young girl.
The dozen or so standing around all turned and watched him approach the work table in the middle of the enormous room.
“I’m happy to see you all here on time again.” He stepped next to the table and turned to face them. “Punctuality is just as important a requirement as your silence concerning this venture.”
He glanced at the supervisor. “Purple.” That wasn’t her real name, but no one used their real names at this point. “Here are the preliminary plans.” He opened the carry tube and slid the architectural drawings onto the table.
Waving to the stacks of construction materials off to the side, he said, “Everything you’ll need is here. The important part of the construction is two miles to the northeast.”
“If it’s two miles away,” one of the laborers said, “why did you have the materials delivered to this building? Are we expected to carry it there ourselves?”
“In a way, yes.” Cadoc raised his hand to forestall any objections. “But fear not. It will be easier than you think.” He turned to the plans on the table. “You will begin construction here.” He tapped a spot on the large sheet of paper.
Turning back to the others, he said, “Everything about this project is layered. Who I am, who each of you are, even the fact that this building is located miles from the main construction. All in the interest of misdirection.”
He headed for the wide flight of steps in the floor that led down. “Come. Let me show you where you’ll start.”
They followed behind, descending the steps to an equally wide door.
+ + + + +
It was definitely her.
Liara clenched her jaws. Damn Fala.
“She seemed a little not all there, if you catch my meaning?” The young man’s brows were drawn together. “She yelled some nonsense about the fire having been retribution from Ulthis for not opposing the guild.” He shook his head. “We’re still working to replace that order.”
“At least no one was hurt,” Liara said.
“True enough.” He stared at Mia for a bit, a faint smile on his lips, then shook his head. “Ah, was there anything else? I really should get back to work.”
Liara glanced at Mia, then back at him. “No, that’s all the questions I had. Thank you.”
He lifted a hand in farewell and headed for the building at the edge of the agave fields. “I hope you catch whoever did it,” he said over his shoulder.
Liara sighed. She hoped so, too.
Mia chirped. What now?
I’m not sure.
Interviewing the shop owner in Pashi and his workers had revealed only that the woman was Fala, a fact confirmed with every witness’s thoughts Mia had looked into. They all pictured the same woman, the umeron Liara remembered from the tiered seats that day who’d blown the whistle.
Liara had hoped that perhaps the young workers from the wagon might know more, but they knew as little as everyone else.
Fala had appeared after the fire had destroyed the wagon and had started talking about how terrible the guild was and how Ulthis was punishing everyone involved with them. No one recalled seeing where she’d gone after storming off.
I just wish someone had thought to follow her or that someone had at least seen which direction she’d gone after leaving the village. We still have no idea where she’s hiding.
Mia rumbled contemplatively. It cannot be too far, can it? They all recall her leaving on foot.
She could have tied a horse somewhere and walked to the shop. Liara patted Mia on the shoulder. There’s no telling where she went after leaving them. About all we know is that she is likely somewhere in or near Bataan-Mok or Pashi, and that is a lot of ground to keep an eye on.
I could try to find them. I can do it from very high in the sky.
No, sweetheart. If they somehow spotted you looking for them, there’s no telling what they would do or where they would go. We have narrowed down where they might be by a little, at least. We need to keep looking as we have been.
Mia let out a frustrated breath.
Liara smiled. She felt the same. If they could just find some clue as to where Fala was, or hells, if they found one of her followers, then Mia could find out where they were directly from the follower’s thoughts.
Too many ifs. And too much damn sun. The sun-baked agave fields wavered all around them in the heat shimmers.
Frowning, she climbed into the saddle. Let’s get back. It’s cooler in Bataan-Mok, and I want to ask Isandath if the Observers have learned anything at all about the shipment that caught fire.
+ + + + +
Sweat ran along Stoltz’s scalp and down his forehead. The patrol was finally complete. They were back at Bataan-Mok, now, passing through its large stone gates. Keeping in step with everyone else, he dragged the back of his hand across his forehead and quietly sighed.
Sitting incarcerated at Caer Baronel for all that time had made his body weak. Incarcerated was perhaps too strong a word, however. Only a few days after being placed in the gaol cell, he’d been moved out. Once they’d confirmed he wasn’t lying, they relocated him under the cover of night. And while two guards stood just outside the door at all times, he hadn’t really cared. The chamber was more comfortable than the typical manis living quarters here at Bataan-Mok.
While in that room in the Residence, he’d exercised every day, doing sit-ups, push-ups, and jogging around the perimeter of the room, all in the interest of maintaining some of his conditioning. It hadn’t been as successful as he’d hoped.
At least he hadn’t vomited while on patrol aside from that one time. It had been horribly embarrassing.
They finally arrived back at the manisi section. He heard they were going to rename it to something else, soon, as manisi didn’t really exist anymore. The patrol leader left to make his report, and Stoltz, along with the others, headed to the bathing rooms. A bath and a long soak would be the perfect way to end a patrol morning.
He lifted the bucket of water over his head and dumped it, washing off the
soap from his body. The water flowed along the floor toward the drains under the washstand. He cleaned the scrub sponge well and rinsed it under the faucet before setting it atop the overturned bucket beneath the sink.
Now for a nice soak. Standing, he made his way to the back of the room, to the heated pool. An easy climb up four wide stairs, and then he walked down the stairs on the other side of the low wall and lowered himself into the relaxing water. It felt fantastic.
He moved to the side of the pool, leaned back against the wall, and closed his eyes.
“Stoltz. Are you going to try for dragonlinked?”
The voice pulled him from a half-doze. Bidziil stared at him from the left. He, too, had his back to the wall of the pool.
Stoltz shrugged. “I’m not sure. I know my brother is when he’s old enough. He’s mad about dragons, spends all his time watching them.”
Bidziil chuckled. “Dragon crazy, huh? And you?”
“I don’t know. I kind of like the patrols we do. You know, where I get to keep my feet on the ground?”
“Ah. You don’t like heights?”
“It’s not so much the height that bothers me, it’s the hitting the ground if you fall.”
Bidziil chuckled again. “I’ve not heard of any dragonlinked having accidents like that. From what I’ve seen, they wear straps and such to keep them on the dragons.”
Stoltz made a non-committal grunt and closed his eyes.
“I think I’ll try out.”
Eyes still closed, Stoltz nodded. “Dragons do seem to be remarkable beings.”
A quarter hour later, feeling much more relaxed, Stoltz stood and made his way to the other end of the room. He grabbed a towel, dried off, then put on a clean set of clothes. He grabbed his bundle of dirty clothes and headed back to his room.
“Excuse me, Manis?”
He turned to the voice coming from a side hallway. A young woman stood there staring at him. At least he assumed she was young. It was hard to tell for sure with the veil she wore across half her face. There were no lines around her brown eyes, though. “Yes?”
“Could I have a word with you?”
“Of course. And we’re not really manisi anymore, so you don’t have to call me that.”
“Yes. One of the changes that guild made.”
That guild? He drew his brows together. “How can I help you?”
“Do you . . . like what these newcomers are doing?”
“They seem to be treating everyone well.”
“But they destroyed the Corpus Order.” A tiny wrinkle appeared between her brows.
“From what I understand, the umeri did that, and especially, Takatin.”
“The core of the Order was good.”
“I believe so, yes.”
“A group of us fights against these dragon-lovers.”
Dragon-lovers. A memory of Benji smiling at Ikan flashed through his mind.
“We’ve destroyed a few of the marble deliveries and we burned that shipment of cloth and rope recently. We could use your help.”
Stoltz stared at her. Those weren’t accidents? They were deliberate acts? Why? Those didn’t just hurt the guild, they hurt the people of the villages, too. “You . . . you need my help?”
She nodded. “Yes. A former umeron is leading a few of us in the fight against these interlopers. Would you like to help us restore the Order to its former glory?”
He’d not liked the way she said dragon-lovers. Would their ‘accidents’ go so far as to hurt anyone who liked dragons? Even a child? Did Capu Cirtis know about these people? Did Polandra? What if they didn’t?
He nodded. “I think I would like to help.”
+ + + + +
Anaya wove the spell, creating the large bowl. It shimmered before her, seemingly unsupported, at about chest height. Nearly invisible, the sorcerous bowl was used as part of her moss-tender duties. The memory of how to cast the spell came from her great-great-blood mother. Use of magic within House Yaot was very restricted. Moss-tenders were some of the few allowed to do so, though they were only permitted to cast spells for the purpose of performing their tending duties.
She approached the large water barrel at the side of the clutching room, the bowl following along. Using a large wooden ladle, rather than a hollow gourd as in her memories, she filled it. The water looked pretty the way it curved against the almost imperceptible bowl: a curve of water, gently sloshing against the sides as she poured more in. The bowl glowed and shimmered where the water touched it, imparting light to the water itself. The effect was very pretty.
Once it was three-quarters full, she walked to the garden at the back of the room.
The patch of plants and fungi was a bit larger now than when she had first started it. She allowed herself to feel a little pride at that. Bringing moss-tending back into her family line was a good thing.
She sat on her haunches and dipped her right paw into the illuminated water. She lifted some up and splashed it about the garden. Water sprinkled over and over until the bowl was nearly empty. Little drops clung to everything in the garden—tiny stars sparkling with the light of the large sconces.
Aeron had asked if she would prefer one of the mechanical misters that were used as part of farming light moss in Caer Baronel, but she had declined. One might be welcome later, when the garden was larger, but for now, the traditional way of doing it would be enough.
She ended the bowl spell and lay on the floor a few feet away, eyeing the glittering garden. The simple tasks involved with tending to it every other day were more enjoyable than she had thought they would be.
Anaya, I come.
She lifted her head. Welcome, Chel!
Standing, she looked over the garden. There were places already prepared to receive new flora. Had Chel brought more? Was that the reason for her visit? Or was she gravid? Was she ready to lay eggs?
Aeron, Chel comes.
On my way!
If the purpose for this visit was to bring more specimens, there was at least one other dragon that might be interested. They had spoken of moss-tending quite a bit. Nantli, Chel comes to visit. She might have flora for the garden with her.
I would like to see that. I will tell Chanté.
Anaya smiled. Talking with Nantli was very enjoyable.
Warm life-pulses bloomed to the northeast. Chel was not alone. Another dragon came with her, one unknown to Anaya. She padded out to the landing ledge. Who had Chel brought?
The two dragons arrived a few minutes later.
Chel landed and turned to the other, who remained hovering. Anaya, this is Zyanya. She wanted to see this place, wanted to meet you. She, too, was impressed with you and Aeron all that time ago when you came to House Yaot.
Anaya looked up at the nervous dragon. Welcome, Zyanya.
T–Thank you. She landed. I b–brought some moss for your House. The dragon, hide the color of wet slate, padded over. She stopped half a wing-length away and reached for a bundle at her chest. Pulling, she snapped the vine around her neck that had secured the bundle and then held it out.
Anaya accepted the package of wrapped leaves tied off with a much thinner cord of woven grass. Opening it revealed a small patch of damp moss, perhaps the size of her paw. This is wonderful! Thank you, Zyanya.
The slate dragon let out a happy chirp. Chel and Nenet have often spoken to me of you and your human friends. I wanted to meet you all. Nervousness flowed from her. I–I also want someone to stand with my children.
Of course! Please, come inside, see where we clutch our eggs. Anaya led them into the passage.
While she was the only one who had clutched in here thus far, Chel and Nenet were comfortable enough with everyone here and with this room that they would abandon the cavern for this much better place.
She felt Aeron running down the hallway and glanced at the doorway. Do not rush in. Chel has brought a new dragon to visit. She is nervous, still. Her name is Zyanya.
Oh. Alright. Does she seem ni
ce?
Yes! She brought some moss for the garden.
She felt his chuckle through the link. That’s great, dear-heart.
You must step into this sand, Zyanya. Chel hurried over to it and turned back to them. It is wonderful and is perfect for eggs.
Is that s–so? Zyanya walked over and stood in the powdery sand. Ooh. It feels good between my claws!
Aeron walked in the room but stayed by the doorway. I’ll let her get more comfortable before I join you.
Okay. Anaya needed to take care of the gift, anyway, before it dried too much.
Once she located the best spot for the new moss, she placed it there and returned to the water barrel. Bringing some back, she carefully dribbled a bit on the moss to soak it and also wet the soil below. She then gently pressed the patch down so that it would lay flatter and make better contact with the ground. Extra care of this new patch would have to be taken, for it would need more watering than the older parts of the garden for the next month or so.
She had learned from the memories just how slow-growing moss was, even these magic varieties. In fact, only the oldest patches in the garden showed any spreading at all, and that less than the width of one of her claws. But they were spreading! That slow growth was also why the garden had not increased in size much, only from the added specimens brought by Chel and Nenet, and now by Zyanya.
Anaya sensed Nantli and Chanté at the ledge. She turned to the passage. Nantli, there is a new dragon visiting from my old House. She is very nervous, as all unbonded dragons are. Please take care not to frighten her. Let Chanté know as well.
I will.
She turned back to the dragons and saw them rolling in the sand. With the gift taken care of, she let out a happy bark and hurried to join them.
Humor came strongly through the link. What is it with dragons and that sand? You all seem to have some kind of disposition to loving it.
Of Gods, Trees, and a Sapling: Dragonlinked Chronicles Volume 4 Page 35
