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

by Adolfo Garza Jr.

  The young man took the slip of paper and left. The girl remained on the other sofa, staring at them with an unreadable expression. Fillion did not keep his gaze on her for long.

  “Carry the plate for The Wolf,” Peg said, hand on his shoulder. “But take care, Chip. Drop it and I’ll cut your manhood off, making you useless to your girl there. Assuming she even likes boys, of course.”

  The girl made a rude noise, but Fillion ignored her.

  So. Peg wanted him to carry the plate instead of The Wolf. A perfect excuse so he’d be there with them.

  Nodding, he wiped his hands on his pants, walked around the desk, and carefully picked up the serving plate. Based on how The Wolf had reacted, it was fairly valuable. What would actually happen if he dropped it? He swallowed, certain he didn’t want to find out.

  The Wolf led them back into the hallway, but she turned the other direction. After a trip down a flight of stairs and two more short hallways, they stood before a heavy door. Large men stood, one at each end of the short passage, their gazes on the three of them.

  The Wolf removed a key from a pocket.

  Fillion noted that it was for a multi-barrier lock, and grunted. Unpickable.

  She glanced at him, smiled, and inserted the key into the lock. It turned smoothly, and there was a faint click.

  After leading them in, she closed and bolted the door.

  Fillion didn’t even get a second to look around before he felt a pulse of magic. Who cast—?

  The Wolf spun on them. “Yrdra’s tits, Peg, accepting that better not come back to bite me in the ass.”

  Peg laughed. “Oh, it won’t.”

  “It better not.” The Wolf took the plate from him. “Now, where to put it?” She glanced about the room.

  This place was similar to the waiting room in that there were items all about, but every one of these items looked extremely valuable. The Wolf was definitely a collector.

  Can you sense her thoughts?

  Weakly, but I can.

  Good.

  “What did you come to ask me, anyway?”

  Peg held up sketches of the driver and bowman that Fillion had made. She took a creaking step toward The Wolf and said, “We need to know about these men.”

  After a quick glimpse, The Wolf continued her search for the perfect spot to display the large plate. “As it so happens, they were some of those who responded to a request for hire that I handled.”

  “Who was hiring?”

  “I have no idea. Requests are usually brought to me by an underling, as was this one, and he didn’t mention who he worked for.”

  The truth?

  I sense no attempt at lying.

  Let me know if you do.

  “So how does that work?” Fillion said.

  The Wolf glanced at him then at Peg. “He gave me the list of skills desired, along with an address for prospective hires to go to for an initial meeting.”

  “To test them?” Fillion asked. “To see if they’re up to scratch?”

  The Wolf drew her brows together. “I don’t know, but I certainly wouldn’t send anyone who wasn’t.”

  “I’ll need his name and the address,” Peg said.

  “He didn’t give his name and neither I nor any of my people recognized him.” The Wolf walked to a stand with an engraved silver platter sitting on it. “But I can give you the address. It’s likely abandoned by now, though, so I’m not sure what value that information has.” She set the porcelain platter down and removed the silver charger from the stand.

  Fillion crossed his arms. “How were you paid?”

  “In coin. Up front.” The Wolf set the porcelain platter on the stand and stepped back, admiring it.

  He let out a breath. No tracing the money, then. “We’re not learning much, here.”

  The Wolf turned to him, eyes narrowed. “One of these days, Peg, you’ll have to tell me why a garbage picker and her . . . ?” She raised her brows at him.

  He scowled. “Nephew.”

  “. . . and her nephew have need of information so often.” She turned her gaze on Peg. “It seems an odd, expensive, and potentially dangerous hobby for one in your, ah, profession.”

  Peg smiled. “I’m a picker of information as well as things.”

  The Wolf stared at her. “Hmm.”

  When they finally left the building, Fillion said, “Now what?”

  “We visit that address.”

  He had to walk slowly or he’d leave the creaking, stomping master investigator behind. She paused every two dozen feet or so and leaned on the corner of a building or on a hitching post, supposedly to rest her leg. It was all part of her act as Peg.

  He sighed. The walk to where they’d meet back up with Coatl was going to take a while. “If it’s the people we think it is, you know the place will have been cleaned.”

  “I’d be surprised if it wasn’t. Even so, we need to investigate it.”

  Something he’d wondered about came back to him. “If that girl’s already in there, why’d we have to come? Couldn’t she have looked into the men?”

  “She doesn’t spend all her time there, just whenever she supposedly has time free from her other jobs. I didn’t even know she would be here today. As to why not use her for this, it took a long time for her to get to where she is in that organization, and I don’t want any suspicion cast her direction. Also, she can’t read minds. But because she was there, I’ll have to ask her later if there were any interesting reactions to our visit. ”

  Fillion nodded. “Still, it would have been nice to get a warning beforehand so I’d be ready in case she was there.”

  ‘Peg’ chuckled. “I thought you handled it fairly well. It certainly impressed, ah, the girl.”

  He grunted. Embarrassed her, more like. He wasn’t sure what their next meeting at the offices would be like. Would she slug him?

  He kicked a stone and watched it bounce down the street. “So, how much was the plate worth anyway? We didn’t get much information for it.”

  “Fifty crowns, or so.”

  That was five thousand marks! He turned to her and yelled, “Fifty crowns?”

  She cuffed him on the side of the head. “Hush, you idiot!”

  “Ow.” He rubbed his ear. “Why’d you do that for?”

  “Well, we’re being followed, so I thought I should keep in character. And also, you don’t want to be shouting about money like that in this part of the city.”

  Being followed? He started to turn to have a look around, but she shoved him in the back.

  “Keep walking. And don’t try to find him. You’ll only point out that we know he’s there. Don’t have Coatl try, either. In fact, have him carefully make his way north a bit before flying to that building where the underground tracks were built from. We’ll meet him there.”

  Someone is following us so we can’t meet you where we intended to.

  A little flicker of worry came through the link. Are you safe?

  Master Gella is keeping an eye on the man, so we should be fine. She doesn’t want anyone to see you take off near us, so sneak north a few buildings and then fly to that place where the track supplies were being stored.

  The big building Nantli and Chanté found?

  Yes. We’ll meet you there later.

  Okay. You tell me if you need me, though.

  I will, big guy.

  It took over an hour to get to the address that had cost them five thousand marks. They’d left the part of the city where The Wolf made her home and were now in an area that looked to be a business district. Even so, this street couldn’t really be called bustling.

  Fillion glanced at Peg. “Is he still following?”

  “He is, the persistent little shit.”

  Fillion grunted and looked back at their destination.

  The small building was near the end of the street, and its door had a sign painted on its window.

  Stronghold Investments.

  Fillion walked up the st
eps and peered through the glazing, the window in the door. “It doesn’t really look like anyone’s here.” The office, like several they’d seen on the way, looked empty.

  “Let’s look around back.”

  The rear door was heavier than the one in front. Two battered garbage bins, large metal cans, sat to its side.

  In less than six seconds, Master Gella had the door open.

  It wasn’t as dusty inside as he’d expected. But then again, it had been used recently by whoever had hired those men. The building had four rooms connected by a short hallway, two rooms in the back and two up front.

  “Very little dust on the floors,” Master Gella said. “And nothing in the entire place other than this desk and the three chairs. Everything seems to have been cleaned quite well.”

  Searching the desk revealed nothing but an ancient pen with a broken nib.

  Fillion let out a breath. “Not ever finding anything is incredibly frustrating.”

  “Well, we do have this building, now, and that business name.” She pointed to the sign painted on the door glazing. “I’ll have those looked into.”

  Once they returned to the back alley, she locked the door.

  “Even these garbage bins are empty.” Fillion set the lid back down. “I wonder if they cleaned them out.”

  “Probably. Assuming they had any trash in them. The city crews only do pickups once a week, though each neighborhood or district has its own day when they come through. They’d not want any trash they had, and its potential clues, sitting around after they left.”

  Fillion stared at the metal can. “How does the city pay for those crews, anyway? And come to think of it, the ones who built and clean out those storm tunnels we ran through.” He looked at her. “Where does the money come from to pay for all that?”

  “Each homeowner or building owner pays monthly fees to the city to offset those and other costs. One fee, for example, is for water along with drainage and sewage maintenance and repair, while another fee covers garbage collection and disposal.”

  Fillion grunted. “In the Caer and at the Guildhall, we don’t really think about those costs, but they can be pretty high in a city this big, I suppose.”

  “Let’s see if our tail is still on us.” She headed back to the street in front.

  After only ten minutes walking, Master Gella confirmed that he was.

  Fillion murmured, “I would have thought he’d get bored waiting for us to finish in that building.”

  “The Wolf seems a little more interested in me after those questions, or perhaps wonders where I got the serving plate.” She leaned against a building and worked her leg to a chorus of creaks. “Have Coatl wait for us at the maintenance access we found, where the thieves left the tunnels. We’ll enter that large building as planned, but head into the tunnels to leave this tail behind.”

  When Fillion relayed the instructions, Coatl was concerned that the man continued to follow them.

  We’ll be fine, big guy. Master Gella knows what she’s about. I’m not exactly unskilled as to fighting, either.

  As you say. Be on your guard, though.

  I will.

  His ability to protect himself was about the only thing he was confident of right now. He was fairly certain the building owner and that business name would amount to nothing, as had all their other clues. It was beyond frustrating.

  How were they going to find out who was behind all this?

  + + + + +

  Queen Ixtab lay on the raised dais, wings neatly furled on her back, tail curved up and around her forelegs, waiting. A Watcher was in the relatively small chamber with her, standing to the right. The other dragon in here was the Record-keeper. As with nearly all the meetings she took, he was here, too. Sitting next to the wall of the room to her left, he observed all that happened and committed it to memory.

  She glanced at him. He was the second Record-keeper to serve her. Dragons had exceptional memories, and he even more so than most. He had spent years training with the witnesses, former Record-keepers, and their assistants. Though, training might not be the right word. They had recited the old records to him and he had memorized them. When those were learned, he spent more years with the Record-keeper of the time, learning the new records. When that dragon had retired from duty, he took her place as Record-keeper, making sure that all the Highest Mother did was recorded. Even meetings such as this one.

  When the scout was finally brought in, the Watcher escorts remained by the doorway while he continued in, stopping before her. He could not seem to meet her gaze, nor could he keep his wings still. They partially unfurled and furled on his back, over, and over.

  Well? Queen Ixtab stared at him. What do you have to report?

  S–She entered a passage in the side of a rocky hill, Highest Mother. There have been many humans and dragons c–coming and going through that passage since, yet she has not left.

  Queen Ixtab let out a low rumble. What was the girl doing? Do you think she intends to leave the House?

  Gaze still lowered, the dragon fidgeted before answering. I–I am uncertain, Highest Mother. She was gravid when she left here, so p–perhaps she is clutching.

  An angry roar escaped her. Damn that Anaya!

  The Watcher to the right took a step forward.

  One of the House guardians moving closer seemed to make the scout even more nervous. Hunched down, wings pressed tight to his back, he shuffled a few steps back.

  Queen Ixtab rose to all fours, tail lashing. Return there! Watch and wait. See what becomes of her and any children she may have. But make certain you remain far enough away that you are not discovered.

  Trembling, the dragon lowered his head in a bow. A–As you say, Highest Mother. Tail near to the ground, the scout turned and hurried from the room, the two Watchers by the door following.

  Slow breaths. Calm thoughts. Queen Ixtab waited until her anger had subsided before sitting on her haunches. Record-keeper.

  The diminutive dragon turned to her. H–Highest Mother?

  Remind me of the War of Houses.

  + + + + +

  After waiting his usual half-hour once Fala had left, Stoltz made his way into the caves.

  The woman was a glutton for punishment. While distilling in these cramped quarters at the height of summer, the heat must be severe. She was certainly determined, he’d give her that.

  When he entered the still sweltering back cave, it was hazier than usual. The ashen remains of shrubs and branches were evident in the small fire, the last bits of which still burned and smoked. A glance around revealed that all the herbs and plants that Fala used for the distillation were gone. Were they too old? Is that why she’d burned them all? The woman would soon be going on another harvest walk, then, to gather more.

  Something else was different, though it took him a few moments before realizing exactly what it was. The oiled water skin was not in its usual place.

  He searched the small cave and searched it again, but the skin was gone. So, too, were the rope and leather harness. The room was empty save the table and the still.

  His heart began to pound. Good gods!

  He had to slow his pace several times on the rushed way back to the adobe hut. It would not do to arrive in a state of panic, though that was indeed how he felt. As he walked the last dozen feet or so to the door, he took measures to calm himself.

  Kwatoko was sitting at the table. The large man looked up and nodded a greeting when Stoltz walked in.

  Stoltz nodded back, then turned to head to Fala’s room. Was she there? Gods make it so.

  Before he took two steps, Fala walked into the front room from the hallway. She had the oiled water skin tied to her hip.

  Stoltz had to use every ounce of his self-control to keep the shock from his face. He only allowed his gaze to rest on it for the briefest of moments before he glanced at the walking stick, held loosely in her left hand. “Taking water with you? Going for a long walk, then.”

  “Ay
e, in the morning.” Smiling, she casually patted the skin. “Kwatoko, I’ll want you to come with me, please. I may have need of you if we find firewood on tomorrow’s walk.”

  The big man grunted and nodded. “Of course, Umeron.”

  This was bad. Not only had he yet to discover exactly what her plans for the poison were, it seemed those plans were being put in motion tomorrow. He needed to let the others know immediately!

  “Stoltz, when I filled this skin I noticed that we are again low on water. You need to make another trip to the spring, if you would.”

  If he would? Fala wasn’t ordering him? Why was she so affable, so happy? That worried him even more. “Of course, Umeron. I’ll go get water now.”

  Her odd behavior aside, this would be perfect. He could get water at Bataan-Mok instead of the spring—they’d know no different—and warn the others at the same time.

  “Good.” Fala glanced at Kwatoko. “Let me know when dinner is ready.” She didn’t wait for a response, merely turned and made for her room.

  “I will, Umeron,” Kwatoko said.

  Stoltz left the hut and grabbed the shoulder pole and the large water containers from the rear. After attaching them to the pole, he rested it behind his neck and quickly made his way down the path, keeping an eye out for anyone following. None did. Half an hour later, at the fork in the animal trail, he took the right branch instead of the left.

  He would go straight to Dragon Square, find Ikan or Mia, and ask them to summon Polandra or Liara. There wasn’t as much need to worry anymore about Fala’s followers spotting any of them talking. Aside from Fala herself, there were only the three of them left to her. There was a slight chance Jaci might happen to be here and see them, but he wasn’t sure there was time for sneaking around.

  People paused in their walking to stare at him as he hurriedly made his way through the concourse in Bataan-Mok. In one hand he carried a container, in the other, he held the yoke vertically, to avoid hitting anyone. As he jogged through the place, the container hanging from the end up in the air banged against the shoulder pole every now and again with a hollow sound.

  Ikan lay alone in the sun. Stoltz had no time to admire the incredible beast, however. He increased his pace to a full-out run. The big dragon lifted his head and turned his golden gaze upon him as he approached.