Chanté blinked. In his desire to get away from here, he’d forgotten that he was upset with Nantli.
“Have Master Gella contact me when you arrive. And I’d like a detailed report from you when you return.”
He hesitated, then said, “Yes, ma’am.” How he felt at the moment about Nantli was irrelevant. He’d volunteered, so he had to follow through.
Not exactly looking forward to the coming flight, he left the workshop.
I am not heartless.
His brows drew together. What?
That leather bracelet. Why do you wear it?
What was she going on about now? He glanced down at the simple strap on his left wrist. He’d made it during a leather craft lesson. Working with leather, it turned out, was not something that came easy to him.
He ran his fingers across the bracelet. Because I had to work hard, and this one actually turned out nice.
It felt good to make something that nice yourself, did it not?
An inkling of what she was alluding to came to him. He twisted his lips. Yes.
What if Quillan had made one for you?
A rush of feelings made him stop in the middle of the hallway. His heart clenched, then pulsed, then started to beat quickly.
A spike of humor came through the link followed by a slow swirl of contrition. I am sorry. That was not fair.
Am I ill? Why does my body act this way?
You are not ill, but you do . . . suffer from something.
I do? His eyes grew wide. Will I die?
According to Anaya, there are times that you may feel like you will, but if you work hard at it, you will be happy with the result.
I don’t understand.
After all, the leather is willing.
The leather? He frowned. You’re never going to give me a clear answer, are you?
I have given you enough for now. If you completely fail to understand for too much longer, I will assist you again.
Again? Did she think she’d already offered help? Shaking his head, Chanté resumed walking.
He thought he understood what she meant about not wanting to lessen the joy of accomplishing something for himself, but when he tried to query her further, why did she take the conversation off on a distracting tangent about Quillan?
He was just about finished putting the saddle on her, and he still wasn’t sure about almost anything they’d talked about.
A warm, wet tongue swiped the side of his face.
I do love you, and I know that you love me.
He stepped back and dragged the back of his hand across his cheek. I know that I’m upset with you right now. And not because of your slobber. He did like that word. He’d heard Aeron use it and the sound of it fit very well the saliva of dragons.
She moved her head closer and nudged his forehead with her nose. You can love someone and still occasionally get angry with them.
He reached up to touch where she’d poked him. Really?
She let out a huffing breath. And here I said I would wait longer.
Huh?
We must hurry. Master Gella awaits.
He grunted and finished with the saddle, thoughts on their conversation.
After closing the portal, he looked down on the city of Stronghold. The patrol route near where Master Gella waited, number three, ran along several streets, but the street below made up most of the middle of the route. This was where they were supposed to be.
Have you spoken with Coatl?
Just now. They are this way. Nantli banked slightly and took them down to the city.
Not too long after, he spotted Coatl lying on the roof of a building, and Master Gella and Fillion stood in the street below, next to a roped off . . . hole?
Nantli landed near them. After furling her wings, she looked around, keen interest coming through the link.
“Chanté.” Master Gella walked over. “Thank you for coming to assist.”
Fillion stood by the hole. He smiled and lifted a hand in greeting. “Hey.”
Chanté nodded at him and hopped down. Turning to Master Gella, he said, “It’s my pleasure. Guildmaster Millinith wondered if you could contact her when I got here.”
“Of course.” She removed an ether writer from her jacket and scribbled away on it.
Coatl says we are to fly around and I am to search for people in underground tunnels, people thinking about a wagon.
He turned to her. She was looking up at the nearby building on top of which Coatl lay. His head was just visible over the roof. He chirped at them.
A wagon?
An armored wagon that was probably carrying money. He gave me an image of it.
Sounds easy enough.
“Has Coatl spoken to Nantli about what I’d like you two to do?” Master Gella tucked the ’writer away.
Chanté nodded. “He has. What direction would you like us to fly as we search?”
“There are rail tracks down in the tunnel below the street. They and the tunnel head north, so start flying along the street that way. Fillion and I will climb down and follow the tracks underground. If they head off in another direction, we’ll have Coatl let you know. I just thought it would be best if we sent a separate team as fast as we could while we slowly search on foot.”
He nodded. “Logical.”
She frowned. “I doubt we’ll catch them, it’s been some time since they escaped down this access hole, but we shall see. Anyone in the tunnels is suspicious at this point. If you sense anyone below ground, listen to them for thoughts of the wagon or stolen money.”
“Should we have a look in access holes along the way to see if the tracks continue that direction?”
She grunted. “That’s a good idea. Only do so every three blocks, though. I don’t want to slow you down too much. If you find that the tracks do end, go back to the previous access holes and look for where the tracks diverted to.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
“Get going, then, and take care. They’ve seriously injured at least one person already.” She headed back to the tunnel access opening.
He climbed into the saddle. Let’s start.
With an affirmative rumble, Nantli lifted them into the air. She didn’t take them too high, though. They flew only about fifteen feet above the ground. Several people were surprised as they swept past, just above them.
Why are you flying so low?
There are people in the buildings nearby at various heights above the ground. If I fly too high, it will be difficult to tell if those far from me are at ground level or below it.
I think we can ignore people not in the tunnel directly below us.
What if the track switches down a west or east tunnel?
We’ll notice when we look in an access hole. We’ll find the new direction and follow it then.
Okay. She lifted them a bit higher, to perhaps thirty feet.
Any people in the tunnel yet?
Not yet.
He grunted and took in their surroundings. Racing along the street was actually a little exciting. He spied a reflection of them wavering in the glass windows of a large building they flew past on the right. Nantli’s enormous wings were spread in a glide, and sunlight limned her enormous form. In the reflection, he couldn’t see the big smile he had. The wind mask covered most of his face.
You look amazing.
She turned her head and looked at the building. A surge of happiness and pride came through the link and she barked.
He laughed and their reflection was gone, the building left behind. He turned and watched as it got farther and farther away. Okay, maybe I still love you.
Her rumbling chuckle vibrated through the saddle and thrummed against his buttocks and thighs.
Smiling, he looked down at the street they flew along. People walked on the sidewalks, and horses, wagons, and carriages made their way along the cobbles. Were any of those people below as happy as he was right now?
He wondered what Quillan was doing, but realize
d he was probably still working on that device Elizabeth had brought. The anger—and oddly, worry—brought on by thoughts of her were confusing, so Chanté shoved them aside, focusing instead on the fun he was having with Nantli and the task at hand.
After they passed three cross-streets, he looked down, trying to spot an access cover. This is three blocks. Let’s see if the tracks are still there.
Nantli let out a happy bark and banked downward.
Several people stopped and watched them as he lifted the access cover. Or mayhap they stared at the big, beautiful dragon standing in the middle of the street. With a faint smile, he peered below. The tracks continue.
Then so shall we.
The fourth time he looked down an access hole for confirmation, there were no tracks below.
What is it? The tracks are gone?
Exactly. He lowered the cover back into place. Let’s examine covers going back the way we came.
Tracks were visible in the next one, so somewhere between it and the other, they either ended, or diverted to another direction.
Nantli barked. What are you doing?
One foot on a metal rung, he looked up at her. I’m climbing down to find out if the tracks stop completely or go another direction.
Master Gella said those people are dangerous. They hurt someone. Should we not wait to see what she wants us to do?
Do you sense anyone below?
I . . . do not. But—
Let Coatl know the tracks stopped. Fillion can ask Master Gella what she wants us to do. While you do that, I’m going to take a quick look around. He reached up and patted her cheek. I’ll be careful.
She let out a huffing breath, warm on his face. Annoyance and worry came through the link. If you get injured, I will be very upset.
He chuckled, stroked her cheek, and started down. Speak with Coatl, lovely.
The rungs went down at least a dozen feet, but stopped about two feet from the floor of the tunnel. He hopped down between the tracks and the wall.
It was dim with only light from the opening, so he set a glow on his shoulder. This tunnel is much larger than I thought. You could easily fit in here.
The access opening and ladder were on the side of the large passage. The tunnel itself was directly below the street and looked as wide. There was a faint smell down here, too, a little like old wet things, and a little like rot. He scrunched his nose and looked around.
Fresh annoyance came through the link. He glanced up at the opening. What is it?
She wants you to follow the tracks and see where they end. They will continue on foot, though with haste, to make sure there are no other side branches.
He smiled at her concern. As I said, lovely, I will be careful.
The tracks weren’t as sturdily constructed as those he’d seen before. While the rails were attached normally, the heavy wood ties themselves had merely been set on the tunnel floor, not anchored in any way. Even so, they appeared to have served their purpose well. Whatever had ridden on the tracks was nowhere to be seen.
He continued along, keeping an eye out for anything suspicious.
High up on the walls, there were small dark openings every few yards, and too, there were openings up along the sides of the ceiling through which he could see faint light. Master Gella mentioned that this was a storm drainage tunnel, so all those must lead here from storm grates and other such drainage structures.
A sudden thought made him pause. It hadn’t looked like it might rain, had it? To be caught down here with torrents of water rushing through would not be safe. Thinking back on it, there had been only the occasional wispy cloud when they came through the portal. Relieved, he continued up the tunnel.
A sound drew his attention to the floor on the left. A rat sat on its haunches, little paws clasped, looking at him. He took a step toward it, and after letting out a squeak, it dashed away, running farther up the tunnel.
He chuckled and started to give chase. “Come back, little fellow. I only meant to—”
On the floor under the scampering rat, a bright line of red light flashed into existence across the entire tunnel.
Chanté stared as the little rodent exploded.
As the red line of light faded, something struck him on the leg. He stared down at a bloody rat tail by his foot. Shocked and horrified, he began panting.
Chanté! What happened?
Feelings and emotions twisted in his chest. The rat was there, and then it wasn’t. Just like that guard. He felt his chest getting tighter, and his panting breaths came fast and rough.
Chanté!
His vision blurred. Why did he feel so angry? So useless? So . . . scared? His heart pounding in his ears grew louder and louder, drowning out everything. What was happening?
‘Breathe in slowly and hold it.’
Quillan’s voice and calm smile came to him. Staring into the darkness ahead, Chanté took a deep, ragged breath and held it.
‘Then, breathe out slowly.’
As he breathed out, the mad pounding of his heart eased. Chanté repeated the steps, again and again. It started to help.
CHANTE!
The fear and panic coming through the link finally impressed themselves upon him. Nantli, I’m sorry. I’m . . . I’m okay, now.
Why did you not answer? You frightened me! Do . . .do not do that again.
I’ll try not to, lovely.
Chanté glanced down at the rat tail. Why had seeing it triggered such a horrible response? Was that a common occurrence? If so, how did others deal with things like that? He’d definitely have to thank Quillan.
After taking another deep breath, he let it out. Have Coatl ask Master Gella if the city has sorcerous traps in the tunnels for vermin.
Confusion came through the link along with a trace of remaining fear, but the panic was gone. A moment later, she replied, Master Gella says they do not.
It must have been the thieves, then. And as such, the sorcerous snares were not meant for rats. Warn them that there are traps down here that might kill. Invisible walls of sorcery.
Are you injured? Is that what happened?
I’m fine. I don’t know what the sorcerous wall would do to a person, but it made a rat explode. They must be warned.
Okay.
He spied a small pebble and grabbed it. When he tossed it ahead into the darkness, the line of red light appeared again across the tunnel floor as it passed over. With a sharp crack, the pebble shattered, scattering pieces everywhere.
They can test for traps by tossing stones ahead of them.
I will tell them.
It was a simple matter to counter the trap enchantment with the help of Myung’s Manifestation. He picked up several stones and pebbles and continued on, tossing one forward every few yards.
He still wasn’t sure why the rat’s death had caused such an upheaval within him, but he was grateful for Quillan’s trick. The machinist was likely in his workshop, huddled over the table, muttering. Chanté smiled at the thought, but then frowned. He must still be flustered by the shock of the rat’s death, because his heart had given an odd pulse.
Only minutes later, he came to a stop. While the tunnel continued ahead, the track he followed ended at another track, perpendicular, that disappeared into darkness to the left and right down a cross-tunnel.
He looked both directions, but could see no difference. Which to follow? Left or right, lovely.
Pardon?
The track has split left and right. Which way should I go?
Left?
Left it is.
This tunnel was the same height, but was perhaps two or three feet narrower, and the tracks ran down the center of it, rather than near the side. There was a bit more debris in this one as well. Along with the swirled dirt on the flagstone floor, there were leaves strewn about, pieces of paper here and there, and other refuse.
Some minutes later, a dark area loomed ahead on the right wall.
The tracks ended just past the dark open
ing, and there was evidence of a great deal of activity in the wisps of dirt and debris here. Instead of the flowing shapes water had pulled dirt into in other places, the dirt was scattered about here, and there were a great number of footprints between that passage and the area around the tracks. There had been occasional footprints along the track, obviously from their construction, but there had been nowhere near this number.
He tossed a pebble into the dark opening, but no flash came, only the sound of the small rock bouncing farther along in the darkness. The passage ran for some distance, then.
Should he go in? After a minute or so staring into its darkness, listening, all he heard was the beating of his heart.
What is it?
I may have found where they entered the tunnels to build the tracks. There is a side-passage here that looks like a number of workers came through it.
Wait for Master Gella.
I should be fine.
Fear and annoyance came through the link. If you insist on going, at least wait for me. I will follow along up here on the ground.
That she was so worried about him was amazing and wonderful and very nice. A smile tugged at his lips. Alright, lovely. Come to me.
Not too much later, she arrived. I am above you.
What is there? What do you see?
I am in a smaller street.
Hmm. Alright, I’m going into the passage. He headed into the somewhat smaller tunnel.
You are walking toward a big building.
I see.
The signs of a lot of foot traffic remained. This was definitely the way they’d come into the tunnels. Or was it how they’d left? No. They’d likely gone the other direction on the cross-track. The cart or whatever they’d used to haul what they’d taken from the wagon wasn’t on the tracks at the opening, so it must have gone the other way.
He stopped. Oh, ho.
What?
A large doorway and stairs. Is there anyone about?
There are no people nearby.
Is that so? See if you can find a way into the building.
Okay!
The stairway was short and let out into an enormous room that seemed to take up most of the building. He spied a small stack of heavy lumber. Extra ties that hadn’t been needed? And nearby, metal rails. As he’d suspected, this must be where they’d worked from to build the tracks.
Of Gods, Trees, and a Sapling: Dragonlinked Chronicles Volume 4 Page 45
