With a soft hiss, the nahual-ton glanced at the weapons.
Be ready to use Neilah’s Constriction on its neck, love.
I am ready.
Millinith spun the bo in her hands, grabbing the beast’s attention. Hopefully it would keep it distracted for a few moments. She began placing anchors on the swords, making sure their vectors passed through the nahual-ton and stretched a ways beyond.
Get ready, love.
Itzel let out a short bark.
Now!
She waited for half a beat, for Itzel to start casting her spell, then Millinith jumped back, another distraction, and completed all the Relocation spells at once. With scrapes of metal on stone, the six swords rotated as they lifted and then flew blade-first toward the nahual-ton.
The beast twisted and leaned, but four swords still found their mark. With a loud barking whine, the nahual-ton fell to the street where it writhed and hissed.
Millinith bound it there, arms and legs to the ground. “Burn it!”
Itzel leapt forward and unleashed her flames upon the beast.
The hisses turned to whines and then screams.
“Alandra’s merciful heart.” One of the police officers, a young man, stared at the creature outlined in yellow fire. “Why could we not see it before?”
Itzel adjusted her flame, tinting it blue.
The screams grew higher in pitch and the writhing more frenzied.
Millinith watched the thing burn. “As I said, this is a nahual-ton. They are invisible to all but dragons and those bonded to them.”
Another officer, the young woman wore sergeant’s emblems, shook her head. “By all the gods. How are we supposed to fight things we can’t even see?”
Millinith clenched her jaws then said, “That’s what dragonlinked are for. We can see these terrible creatures.”
The screams were now of such high pitch, they were starting to hurt her ears.
Neilah’s Constriction brought welcome silence. The nahual-ton’s head rolled a foot away before coming to a stop.
Itzel ended her flames and rumbled.
“Well thank the gods for dragonlinked, then.” The young man walked to the beast and tried to retrieve his sword. He flinched when attempting to grab the bare hilt, its leather grip burned away by draconic flames. The sword was apparently too hot, yet, even with his gloves.
Millinith kept the frown from her lips. Yes, thank the gods. But were there enough dragonlinked? If there weren’t, how many would die from the lack?
Doronal is right. We will do as much as we can. You should not worry so much about things you cannot control.
I know, love. I just can’t help but feel as if I should be doing more. The problem is, I don’t know what more I can do, and that frustrates me.
We can only do what we can do. Does it frustrate you that you cannot breathe out flames like I can?
She pressed her lips together. Of course not. I’m not a dragon, so it would be silly for me to be frustrated about that.
And yet you are frustrated about a different thing that you cannot do.
She walked to Itzel and stood before the beautiful dragon, hands on her hips. You . . . are very wise.
Itzel chirped at her.
And since when do you speak of Doronal by name?
A flicker of embarrassment came through from Itzel, and a tiny bit of, was that sensuality? Millinith drew her brows together.
Itzel wouldn’t meet her gaze. As you may have noticed through the link, Huemac did, in fact, make note of Doronal’s, ah, skills. It has been quite nice, so I am grateful.
Millinith stifled her laugh. I see.
Her smiled faded as she watched the police officers gather up their swords. “My apologies for what the flames did to them.”
“No worries,” the young sergeant said. She looked over the sword she held. “They will still serve for tonight, and then we’ll just return them to the armory for repair and get replacements.”
Millinith nodded and glanced at the burnt nahual-ton. Despite her words with Itzel, she still wanted to do more. That in itself wasn’t so bad as long as she didn’t let it frustrate her so much. All she had to do was keep an eye out, so to speak, for more that could be done.
“Can you officers deal with this carcass? I’d like to finish my patrol.”
“Of course, dragonlinked.” The young man sheathed his sword. “And thank you for your hard work.”
Millinith shrugged. “It’s all part of our mutual desire to protect people.”
“Even so,” the young woman said, “thank you.” The sergeant bowed her head in a kind of salute.
Millinith nodded a bow in return, then mounted Itzel. Let’s make sure there aren’t more of those damned things around, love.
Itzel barked and lifted them into the sky.
Chapter 13
Duviday, Diamy 8, 1875.
Morning.
I have told her that we are here. She says she will arrive shortly.
Thanks, big guy.
Master Gella had sounded like she was in a hurry, so Fillion didn’t want to bother trying to figure out how to get into the police building to find her. Coatl speaking directly to her was much simpler and faster. Especially with all this . . . activity. What was going on?
A large rectangular structure was being built where the trapdoor used to be. Perhaps ten feet by eight feet, its completed sections looked to be of the same construction as the building. There was also another much larger addition a few yards from it. This one was about ten or fifteen feet deep, thirty or forty feet wide, and almost twice as tall as the other, at perhaps twelve feet high. Only the roof and the back and side walls were complete, however.
Master Gella emerged from an opening on the short side of the structure over the trapdoor. “So. What do you think?” Hands on her hips, she looked around at the workers and the additions.
Fillion looked again at the construction and shrugged. “I have no idea what all this is.”
“That,” she pointed to the large addition, “will be for visiting dragons to take their ease, once it is complete. Not so much for the warmer months, but in the winter, it will keep them warm while their bond-mates are in meetings and such, and it will keep them dry if it is raining.”
“I see.” He glanced at Coatl. “I’m sure they’ll appreciate it.”
“And that,” she pointed to the structure from which she’d emerged, “is a short stairwell to the top floor.” She smiled. “Much more convenient than climbing up and down a ladder. Especially in the rain.”
Fillion grinned. “That is a good point. All the modern conveniences, eh?”
“Well, it’s not an elevator, but the walking will help me keep my trim figure.” She patted her backside and winked at him.
Fillion chuckled.
Master Gella smiled and walked over. “We should head out. I’ve got that meeting with the High Lady.”
When they emerged over the Bureau of Guilds in Delcimaar, she pointed to the west. “Let’s go directly to the palace.”
That was fine by him. Though he’d seen it from afar, he’d never been there and would enjoy visiting the place where High Lady Hasana lived.
He patted Coatl on the neck. To the palace.
Will Ana ride with us again?
I don’t know, big guy. She’d probably love to, but might not have time.
His rumble vibrated through the saddle as he turned to the west.
The palace was an enormous square-shaped complex, of which only the outer third was actual physical structure. The four sides looked to be about seventy or eighty feet thick. The central two-thirds of the palace was a large open area taken up by various terraces, plant beds, and greenhouses. Trees, shrubs, and flowering plants were everywhere within.
The palace architecture was very . . . formal was the only word Fillion could think of for how it looked. Orderly, precise, and elegant, tall columns and arches were everywhere on the structure. The long stretches that made
up the palace’s four sides were interrupted at their centers by large gated archways opening on what were essentially tunnels leading to the gardens within.
A large part of one corner of the gardens was separated from the rest by a wall. Perhaps those were the High Lady’s private gardens?
Master Gella grabbed his shoulder and pointed to an area next to that walled-off section. “There. Have him put us down there.”
Fillion nodded and relayed her instructions.
Coatl headed for the spot, to an area there paved with large flagstones. A building sat a few yards away. It looked suspiciously like—
“Yes, that is for dragons.” Her chuckle made him smile.
He turned to her. “I suspected as much!”
When Coatl landed, she hopped off. “We thought it would be good to have accommodations for dragons should dragonlinked have need to visit the palace.”
Fillion unstrapped. “And, too, landing here is better than taking a carriage from the Bureau of Guilds.”
“True enough. We have our own carriages, so I never have to pay for a cabriolet, but it will certainly save time. And speaking of which, this shouldn’t take too long. I just have to go over a few things with her and get her signature and seal on a form. I’d invite you in, but I really am in a hurry and she’ll want to talk with you about dragons if you go with me.”
He kept the disappointment from his face. High Lady Hasana was keenly interested in dragons, and as that was one of his favorite topics, talking with her was always fun. “I understand. Perhaps she can come for one of the days of the Summer Festival at Caer Baronel. We’re doing a dragon show.”
“I’ll let her know. And again, my apologies.” She turned and hurried off.
It wasn’t until she was gone that he noticed the people. Some, working here and there, wore a type of uniform, he imagined they were palace gardeners, but there were others that were obviously visitors to the gardens. Many of them stared at him and Coatl.
Any of them scared?
Curious and surprised. That is all.
Good.
Fillion smiled at a few that stared at him. They blinked and shook their heads as if from a daze before returning to what they’d been doing. The gardeners watered, pruned, and weeded, while the visitors resumed their walks, some of them in whispered conversations with their companions. It didn’t seem as if anyone was overly concerned about the dragon in their midst, so Fillion relaxed and took a look around.
The garden in which the dragon shelter had been built was very pretty. Gorgeous plants of various size and shade of green were everywhere in the ground, in pots, and in raised beds. There was even moss between the flagstones of the walkways, though it hadn’t begun to fill in between the flagstones of this apparently new area.
There were a few backless stone benches to the side and Fillion made use of one. Coatl padded over and lay in the grassy area behind. He was close enough that Fillion was able to lean back against his left hindquarters.
Clasping his hands behind his head, Fillion stared up at the clear sky.
What if you breathed out fire as we passed through the flaming ring?
Coatl let out a grunt and surprise came through the link. While flying? I would need to practice so as not to burn us. Besides, if we did, Gregor would likely have words with you, and Kisa would bite my tail.
Fillion chuckled. He could just imagine the worry on Gregor’s face, which would be replaced by anger after the demonstration was done. Gregor’s eyes, whether he was upset or happy, were always bright, and his smile was one of the most amazing things ever.
Letting out a contented sigh, Fillion closed his eyes. Gods, but we’re lucky to have them.
Coatl rumbled. That we are.
The warmth of his dragon on his back, the warmth of the sun on his face and chest, and the gentle buzz of insects lulled him into a wonderful, half-sleeping state.
She comes.
Hmm?
“The two of you like that almost make me jealous.”
Fillion sat up and blinked. “W–What?”
Master Gella chuckled. “Nothing. Let’s get back to Stronghold.”
“Okay.” Fillion stood, stretched, and mounted up.
Once through the portal, Master Gella directed them to a different part of the city. Coatl flew them along the streets she indicated, over a few shorter buildings, but mostly between the taller ones, flying through the canyons of glass, wood, and stone. It didn’t take too long to arrive at their destination, and Master Gella had them land at the side of the street, just outside a wide alley.
People eyed them curiously, though they continued walking past, keeping a wide berth. A few, mostly youths, did stop at a distance to watch.
She unstrapped and jumped down. “Coatl can wait out of the way there inside the alley.”
Fillion frowned. There were an awful lot of people around eyeing Coatl. “What are we doing here, anyway?” He hopped down.
She tucked her riding belt into a saddlebag. “We’re going to look into the group Hebron is involved with. He’s that crier we were watching the other day.”
“Ah, right. That woman told us about a group he works for.”
“Yes. Unfortunately, my people haven’t been able to learn as much as I’d hoped they could, using discreet means. We’re going to have to resort to direct inquiries using the authority of the High Lady.”
“I see.” Fillion looked at Coatl. If anyone bothers you, let me know.
I will. If need be, I can fly to a roof.
Fillion glanced at the buildings nearby. They all do seem to be fairly well constructed. Just be careful.
Coatl chirped and padded into the alley.
Fillion watched Coatl lay on the ground, then turned to Master Gella. “He’ll fly to a roof if too many bother him.”
She nodded. “Alright, let’s get going.”
The building they walked into was unlike other buildings Fillion had been to in either of the large cities before. It reminded him, more than anything, of the Town Hall in Cotter’s Grove.
Once inside the large front doors, Fillion and Master Gella stood in a large, mostly open area with various types of seating scattered about. People sat here and there, staring blindly ahead, or reading books or newspapers, or napping. Along most of the walls around the area were counters with people standing before them. What must be clerks sat behind the counters, helping those people.
A woman behind an empty counter stood. “Number 247? I can help number 247.”
One of the seated people, a young man, stood and walked to the woman.
Master Gella whispered, “This is going to let us skip the number queue and will be needed if we get around to inquiring into Hebron’s personal records.” She pulled a folded paper from inside her coat and walked toward a desk at the side of the room.
Fillion followed her.
A man with a pinched expression sat behind the desk. “How can I help you?”
Master Gella removed her identification and handed it to him along with the folded paper. “I was hoping we could get some assistance looking into an organization operating in the city. I’m not certain whether they are an actual company, however.”
As the man read over the documentation he’d been given, his expression became less and less pinched, and more and more worried. He said, “O–Of course, Special Investigator.” He handed everything back to her. “Whether they are a company or just a recognized organization, you’ll need records from the same area.” He stood. “If you’ll come with me?”
He led them toward a counter. A young woman who was standing before it eyed them with curiosity as they approached.
“Pardon me, miss,” the man told her before turning to the clerk. “Muriel, the special investigator here needs all the records we have on an organization.” He glanced at Master Gella. “What was it called?”
“Citizens United for a Better Tomorrow.”
He turned back to the clerk. “She’s not certain
if it is a company or not, so make sure to search with both cases in mind.”
The clerk nodded and left for a door behind her.
“Um.” The young woman who’d been standing before the counter looked less curious and more than a little indignant. She looked from the man to the clerk walking away. “What about my request? I was here first, after all.”
“Absolutely, miss,” the man said. “Muriel will return to assisting you the moment she can.”
Drumming her fingers on the counter, the young woman let out a frustrated breath. “Fine.”
The man bowed his head to her, then to Master Gella, and hastily returned to his desk.
Fillion felt bad for cutting in line in front of her, but the information they gathered here could help stop those people, could stop more riots from happening.
Perhaps a quarter-hour later, Muriel returned. She smiled at Master Gella. “They are a not-for-profit business, it turns out.” She slid a folder across the desk.
Master Gella opened it. “Indeed? Ah, yes. Hmm. They have a parent company. Insurgo Industries.”
The young woman they’d cut in front of turned to Master Gella. She looked like she was going to say something, but narrowed her eyes instead.
“Could I get the records on that company, as well?”
“Actually,” Muriel said. “I have those records right here.” She slid another folder, one that had been on the counter when they arrived, to Master Gella.
“Now hold on just one moment.” The young woman looked at the clerk. “I waited half an hour for you to retrieve those for me, and now you’re going to give them to her?”
“I’m sorry,” Muriel said, “but special investigators have priority.”
“I don’t care who she is, I was here first. Has common courtesy been abandoned in Stronghold?”
Master Gella set her folder on top of the other one. “Miss, please—”
“I don’t care if you’re one of High Lady Hasana’s special investigators or not, you should wait your turn like everyone else.”
A few heads turned at the mention of the High Lady’s name. This was apparently not lost on Master Gella. She glanced at those people and others around the room.
Of Gods, Trees, and a Sapling: Dragonlinked Chronicles Volume 4 Page 39
