Anaya looked up at Aeron. I do not know. I only know that this is fun! She glanced at the passage and back at him. You should come join us, now. Nantli and Chanté are here and will be walking into the room in moments.
Oh, okay. He started walking over.
She turned to the slate dragon. Zyanya, this is my bond-mate, Aeron. You should remember him from when we went to House Yaot.
Zyanya lifted her head and turned to him. Sand fell from her face. G–Greetings, Aeron.
Hello, Zyanya. It is nice to meet you.
Anaya turned to the passage just as the other two walked in. And that is Nantli and her bond-mate, Chanté. They have also come to see you and the gift you brought.
Zyanya’s worry spiked, but she seemed to gain control of it.
Zyanya! Nantli began padding over quickly.
The slate dragon took a step back. Y–Yes? Do I know you?
Nantli stopped her quick jog. Confusion and then alarm spiked from her. I . . . o–of course not.
Chanté stared at his bond-mate. A little worry came from him.
Anaya looked from him to Nantli. Why did they feel worried?
Anaya told me that you had brought a gift for the garden. I merely wished to thank you.
I–I see. Zyanya blinked. You are very welcome.
Chanté took a step forward. That you two would come to a new place like this with humans and dragons you do not know is commendable. I am glad to see that others from the House Anaya came from are also brave and determined.
Everyone turned to him.
He blushed. N–Nantli’s family is descended from that House as well.
Anaya sensed surprise, anger, and a little fear from Nantli. How curious. From how far back? From whom? Perhaps I can remember them.
Nantli turned to her, sadness billowing out like smoke from damp leaves. I do not like to speak of that. I am considered an exile.
Anaya blinked. You are of the Departed?
Nantli shook her head. I am not. And leaving was not a choice made by anyone, rather it was the result of unintended circumstances.
If Nantli had been of the Departed, Anaya would have liked to ask her about those dragons. Still, who was she? Even after searching her memories, the only Nantli she could remember was from before even her great-great-blood mother’s time. I cannot recall anyone named Nantli in House Yaot, not recently.
I was not born with that name. Nantli is the new name I chose for myself after I . . . found myself without a House.
Anaya was about to ask her what her name had been when a very strong feeling of almost paternal caring surged from Aeron, distracting her.
“Well, you have a home here,” he said. “Dragons, and those who love them, will always be welcome at the Dragon Craft Guild.”
“And for that we are grateful.” Chanté placed his hand on Nantli’s shoulder.
W–Would my children have a home here? Zyanya looked from Aeron to Anaya.
“Of course they would,” Aeron said. “All here love dragons and have only their best interests at heart. We have several candidates eager to bond with a dragon and share their lives with them.” He stepped next to Anaya. “As we said before Queen Ixtab cast us out of House Yaot, there is more to life than hiding away in a warren.”
See? Chel rested her right wing on Zyanya. Your children will be welcomed here, will find someone to stand with them.
Thank you. Zyanya lowered her head. I was unsure, even after hearing you both before, after hearing Chel’s words recently, but with everyone at House Yaot so anxious, now, I fear to raise children there. The First Mother has been in a foul mood for months and her bad temper has spread to everyone.
Anaya glanced from her to Chel. Foul mood? Why?
No one knows. Chel re-settled her wing on her back. Members of the First Family have grown even more secretive than before.
“Could it be that she’s still angry from when Anaya and Aeron went there?” Chanté said.
Those were bad days. Chel glanced at Zyanya and then at Chanté. But her ire was spent after half a moon cycle. Something else has her angry.
+ + + + +
Why did you tell them I was from House Yaot?
Chanté flinched. Now that they were back in their rooms, Nantli’s anger and worry were of such magnitude he could almost see them flowing out from her like waves of heat. I’m sorry, it just came out. Everyone was staring at me, no doubt wondering why I had spoken in such a way about Zyanya and House Yaot. That was the only thing I could think of to explain the words.
She barked and glared at him from the doorway to the den, fierce eyes a brassy yellow. It was exceedingly foolish!
I know! He sat on his bed. Sometimes words just pour from my lips before I have a chance to think about them.
You must think about them from now on.
He furiously scratched the sides of his head with his hands and then flung them out. It’s not as if I choose not to think of them! It just . . . happens.
Did all humans have to contend with words spilling out uncontrollably with potentially horrible consequences? Or was it just him?
He sighed and placed his hands in his lap. But I will try to be more careful. I promise.
See that you do. I like it here. These people are nice to us. I do not want us to have to leave or be forced to leave should they discover who we are. Nantli turned and left the doorway, leaving him alone in the bedroom.
Letting out another sigh, he fell back onto the bed and closed his eyes. Disregarding his stupidity, it had been nice meeting Chel and Zyanya. The fact that more and more dragons were coming here to bear their young was very good news. Word of unrest at House Yaot was troubling, but not as much as his own slip.
Had anyone marked what he’d said? Or would it be forgotten? He hoped so. It was difficult enough trying not to give away his true self without people paying even closer attention to his every word. Pissing blades, but there were a lot of things he had to be careful of.
He glanced at the advanced sorcery book on the headboard shelves, but he didn’t feel like reading more of that right now. Instead, he stood and headed for the door. I’m going to visit Quillan.
Do not let his ardor make you forget your mistake. We must continue to be careful.
Chanté grunted. Ardor? For tinkering? Why would that—he shook his head. Whatever she’d meant by that, she was right. He’d need to be more careful about what he said to people.
At the machinist room, he once again found Quillan at the worktable hunched over something. A few books lay open about the table, as did several sheets of paper. Quillan scratched away on one, making notes or something while reading from a book.
Chanté walked over. He made sure not to walk too quietly. “What has you focused today?”
Quillan looked up and smiled. “I’m still working on a way for dragonlinked to communicate with each other while in flight without having to go through their dragons.”
“I see.” Chanté looked over the papers, most of which had several formulae scribbled on them. A few of them, though, had sketches of heads in profile, with some sort of devices against their sides. “And all that?”
“Most of it is research. But I’ve had to set it aside, for now.”
“Oh?”
“I’m sort of stuck.”
“Stuck?”
“Yeah. Have you heard of ether viewers? Those enchanted mirrors?”
“I, ah, I’ve seen them in use before. They act almost like portals in that instead of a reflection in your mirror, you see and hear what is before the mirror’s ether-tangled partners, yes?”
“Exactly.”
Chanté twisted his lips. “Except you’d only really need to transmit the sound for effective communication.”
Quillan smiled. “Right, again. And that is where I have to make a decision.”
“How so?”
“Let’s say I create a device using a similar enchantment as the one on ether viewers. In order for the wearer to h
ear what it transmits, the device will need to be by their ear, under the riding cap.” He pointed to one of the sketches.
Chanté nodded. So that’s what the head profiles were for. “I see. Yes.”
“But,” Quillan said, “if the device is there, how will it pick up the wearer’s words to transmit them to the others?”
“Hmm. Could you make the device long enough to extend between ear and mouth?”
Quillan pointed to another sketch. “I considered that, but people’s heads vary in size.” He frowned. “I suppose the device could have some sort of retractable arm on it in order to adjust the distance between the ends. That would complicate construction, though, and introduce a weak area that could potentially break.”
“Use two devices. One for the ear and one for the mouth.”
Quillan grimaced and scrunched his nose. “I was trying to avoid two pieces, but you might be right.” He spent a few minutes scratching out more formulae and muttering to himself.
As he watched Quillan working away, Chanté felt his lips curve into a faint smile. Why was it so enjoyable watching him at his craft?
Quillan grunted. “I’ll be damned. That actually makes things easier.” He flipped through his hasty notes. “The enchantments on each of the device’s parts will be simpler. And while capturing a voice or recreating it, there’s almost no chance of sound looping between the two separate pieces. The construction of each is less complicated, too.” He smiled and turned to Chanté. “That was just what I needed.” He reached over, gripped him on the shoulder, and gave it a little shake. “Thanks.”
Chanté felt his cheeks warm. “S–Sure.”
Rubbing his hands together, Quillan said, “Now that those issues have been taken care of, I can think about the enchantments that do the actual transmitting and receiving of the encoded information.”
“You’re not going to do it the same way as the viewers?”
“Ether-tangling is touchy and very complicated. I’d like to come up with a solution that directly address the problem in the simplest fashion possible, and ether-tangling is well beyond the scope of what’s needed. I’m not trying to develop a way for dragonlinked to communicate across entire continents or the planet itself, just a way for them to keep coordinated while working together, like at the train robbery.”
Chanté murmured, “The simplest thing that addresses the problem.”
“Exactly. Why make things more complicated than necessary?”
He smiled. Quillan had a good point.
+ + + + +
Head bowed, the dragon entered the room.
Queen Ixtab watched him. He had returned sooner than she expected, which was good. It meant the House had not lost another child. What did you learn?
I followed them, Highest Mother. They went to a place of humans. Zyanya bore something around her neck, but I did not approach close enough to learn what. I remained undetected, as you bid.
They went to see Anaya?
They did, Highest Mother. The place of humans they went to was just beyond that range of mountains, which is as she described. They entered a passage in a hillside, so I do not know everyone who they met with, or even that they met with anyone, though I think it is likely they did. I saw humans and dragons enter and leave by that same passage, including Anaya. Also, when Chel and Zyanya left that place to return here, Zyanya no longer carried anything around her neck.
What is it they took to Anaya, I wonder?
I could not say, Highest Mother.
Continue to watch. Note any who travel to that place of humans. I want to know all who go there.
As you say, Highest Mother. Head still bowed, the dragon left her chamber.
When she had first heard the rumors that some were taking their children to Anaya, she had been amused. What a few curs of low standing did was of no concern to her. But it seemed more and more were harkening to the words Anaya had spoken that day.
There is more to living than your fearful existence here.
The memory of them still irked her. Fear was life, was it not? Fear kept you obedient. Fear kept you from dangerous places. Fear kept you from deadly plants or animals. In short, fear kept you alive. How could one live without fear?
Chapter 12
Minday, Diamy 7, 1875.
Morning.
As they tore through the air, Fillion’s smile was so large he could feel it stretching his lips. He braved a quick glance back at those behind. They seem to like it.
They do.
He looked forward just as Coatl shot through the enormous wooden ring. Immediately after came Aeron on Anaya, followed by Renata on Xochi, Jessip on Zolin, and then Willem on Balam.
On the ground, Gregor was whooping and pumping his good arm. “Fantastic!”
As they all landed, Gregor made his way over. “I’ve said it before, but I’ll say it again. That was a great idea for a stunt. And you’ve all got the coordination down nearly perfectly, now. I guess practice does make perfect.”
Everyone chuckled.
“I don’t know about that,” Fillion said and raised a finger. “But! Before we head back, there’s one more thing I want to try.”
Gregor looked over. “What’s that?”
Fillion smiled. “Just you watch.”
He walked over to the base of the ring and up the three steps onto it. He grabbed the small barrel there, opened it, and poured some of its contents over the heavy rope lying atop a three-foot arm that curved along the bottom of the ring, and the rest went into a trough underneath. Five ropes hung from their holes in the iron arm down into the trough below. They would serve to wick that oil up to the heavy rope.
“I wondered what all that was for.” Gregor frowned. “That’s lamp oil, isn’t it?”
Fillion grinned at him. “Yes, it is.”
“Now hold on a moment, Fillion.” Willem’s eyes were large.
“That’s a bit dangerous, isn’t it?” Aeron was frowning.
Murmurs of agreement came from the others.
Fillion shook his head. “Not at all. As fast as we whip through there? The danger will be minimal.”
“Coatl,” Renata said, “we have goggles, but dragons do not. To be safe, you be sure to close both your inner and outer eyelids when you go through, alright?”
He chirped at her. Fillion and I spoke about this already. I will.
Fillion cast Safisha’s Flame on the heavy rope anchored to the arm, igniting the oil soaking it. Smokey flames licked up from the three-foot arm—the heavy rope lying on it—and rose to above the center of the ring. He quickly ended the spell and jogged to Coatl.
After mounting up, he said, “Here we go!”
Gregor stared at him, more than a little worry in his eyes.
Come on, big guy. Let’s show ’em how easy this is.
With an affirmative rumble, Coatl lifted them into the air.
As they raced toward the ring, the curtain of flames wavering in the breeze and the smoke that rose from them gave him a moment of concern. He shook his head.
No, he thought. It’s as I said. We’ll be through in an instant.
Even so, his heart beat faster and faster the closer Coatl took them. At the altitude and distance they started, the fiery ring was about the size of a cherry. It quickly grew to the size of a plum, then a melon, and larger, and larger.
The flames and smoke loomed before them and then surrounded them.
Don’t breathe, either! For a fraction of a second some heat came through the air slits on the riding mask and warmed the small exposed portions of his cheeks between mask and goggles. Then they were through.
The loud sound of dragon wings slamming open to catch air preceded him being forced forward and then down into the saddle with a sudden jerk as Coatl lifted them high into the sky.
There had been no whoop from Gregor.
Everyone ran over when they landed.
“Are you hurt?” Gregor looked him over.
“I’m fine. The r
iding gear nearly covers me entirely.”
Gregor looked him over anyway. He apparently found nothing—Fillion knew he wouldn’t—because his expression became less pinched.
“And you, Coatl?” Aeron asked. “Did you fare well? Any burns or pain?”
Not at all. It was not even as warm as the sand in the desert.
Jessip burst out laughing and slapped Coatl on the side. “Good man. Though I have to say, it was a little nerve-wracking watching you two go through those flames.”
“Yes,” Gregor said, “it was. They held onto you two for a moment after you were through the ring, fingers of flame reaching out to you, almost like they didn’t want to let you go.”
“All the better!” Fillion put his arm around Gregor’s waist and pulled him close. “The more exciting it is, the more golden it is.”
“True enough,” Willem said, smiling.
“Yeah, and the more I worry.”
Gregor’s murmur was so quiet, Fillion was sure he’d been the only one who heard it.
With practice for this trick over, everyone headed to their dragons to fly back to the Guildhall.
Gregor walked over to Coatl to get ready to leave.
Fillion glanced about. Everyone else was smiling and talking about where in the show to put this trick, so he was probably right about no one else hearing the quiet words.
“Aw, come on.” Jessip, arm around Renata, had a pleading note in his voice. “Just see for yourself.”
“Fine,” she said, “when I have time. But if it looks too dangerous, I’m not sure I’ll want you to do it.”
The two had moved off far enough that Fillion couldn’t hear Jessip’s quiet response, so he turned to Coatl.
Gregor pulled a set of safety straps from the saddlebags. Holding them with the hand poking out of the sling, he used his other hand to look over the ends.
Fillion walked over and leaned back against Coatl’s rump. He crossed his arms. “So, do you want to talk about it?”
Gregor did not look up from the straps. “Talk about what?”
“It doesn’t take a genius to know that something’s been bothering you for a while. Even Coatl’s noticed.”
His bond-mate let out a quiet rumble.
Of Gods, Trees, and a Sapling: Dragonlinked Chronicles Volume 4 Page 36
