“—but it involves a feather.”
Silence.
No witty reply, eh? That she was momentarily speechless was wonderful.
“A . . . feather?” The confusion in her voice nearly made the earlier fright worth it.
Placing the riding cap back on his head, he smiled. “A feather.”
“Final team . . .” Renata and Xochi spun through the flames and then flew straight on. “. . . .through!”
The sound of air thrumming across large wings came from above as they quickly glided past.
Amid cheers and happy yells, Doronal glanced at Millinith.
She stared ahead, a tiny wrinkle between her brows.
Good. He took a sip of wine.
“That was the most golden thing ever!” Arms raised, Terry hopped up and down, clapping and cheering. “Yeah!”
Doronal smiled. So much energy. At the boy’s side, Korrie also clapped and cheered. That was good, too.
A little over two months ago, Lord Baronel had asked him to stay for a few minutes after a meeting.
He thought it was to discuss what his future plans were after having bonded Huemac. As he had no idea what he was going to do, he was relieved when that turned out not to be the case.
“Doronal.” Lord Baronel had drummed his fingers on the armrest of his chair. “I want you to visit the Guildhall as often as you can. Keep an eye on my girl, would you? Korrie is, well, a bit different. By the time I was her age, I’d already—” The blush took Doronal by surprise. “—that is, could you see how she’s getting along with her fellows? She hasn’t had any, ah, romantic relationships, and I think she should have by now, even if only flirtations.”
The man had placed a hand on his forehead. “Rora thinks I worry too much about our children, but I can’t help it.” He looked up. “Be my eyes in the Guildhall. I want Korrie to be happy, and if something is preventing that, I want to know.”
In the intervening days, discreet questions and observations had not revealed anything that would indicate Lord Baronel’s daughter was troubled in any way.
Even now, as Doronal watched how Korrie watched Terry, it would appear that she was quite happy here.
“A–And you’ll be doing things like that one day?” A woman stared at the burning ring. She looked a bit green.
“Hells yes, I will.”
“Sharrah. Watch your language around your mother.”
“Sorry, daddy. I’m just so eager to one day be able to fly like that.” Sharrah clenched her hands into fists and smiled excitedly. “I can’t wait!”
Cheddar laughed. “Neither can I, to be honest.”
So those were her parents? Doronal tucked the riding cap under his arm and walked over. “You should know, ma’am, those in the show spent the last month or so practicing these maneuvers. And even beyond that, they’ve flown with their bond-mates for months and months prior. This wasn’t something they came up with on the spot. They’ve trained for it.”
“I–I see.” The woman looked questioningly at him.
“Oh, my apologies.” He bowed his head, briefly. “My name is Doronal. I’m the Caer’s Master Sorcerer and more recently, a dragonlinked, like your daughter.”
From where he lay, Huemac let out a bark.
The woman glanced at Huemac, then back to him, and smiled. “Ah, so you’re Master Doronal? It’s a pleasure to meet you. I’m Saoirse, and that there is Toran. We’re Sharrah’s parents.”
The tall man nodded a silent greeting.
“In the few letters she’s sent,” Saoirse raised a brow at her daughter, “Sharrah has mentioned you along with a Master Canneth.”
Doronal smiled. “Yes, well, Master Canneth and I haven’t been as involved with the dragons and the nahual investigations since the guild was formed. Though, of course, as a guild member and a bond-mate, I do have my own dragon to care for now.”
Saoirse blinked. “Nahual investigations?” She turned to Sharrah. “Oh honey, what else are you involved with?”
“Nothing she can’t handle, I’m sure.” Doronal glanced at Toran and looked back at Saoirse. “Your daughter is highly intelligent and capable. She knows what she’s about.”
Cheddar laughed. “I told you. Even Master Doronal agrees. You’ve raised a brilliant daughter.”
Cheeks red, Sharrah elbowed him. “Cheddar.”
He chuckled. “I can’t help it. Your brain is just as sexy as—” His eyes grew large.
Doronal raised his brows.
Surprisingly, Sharrah’s mother burst into laughter. “If you could see your face right now, Nilbert.”
“I am so sorry.” Cheddar’s face was ashen.
Saoirse sighed and curved her lips into a wistful smile. She stepped to Toran and put an arm around his waist.
The man smiled at her, then looked up. “As long as our daughter is surrounded by people like all of you, people who obviously care for each other. . . . well, she should be fine.”
Saoirse nodded. “Aye. I suppose you’re right.” She looked at Citlali, who lay with Xoc to the side. “And besides, along with Nilbert, she also has a very pretty dragon by her side.”
Sharrah looked from one of her parents to the other and took a short, quick breath. Looking surprisingly close to tears, she raised a hand to her mouth, then ran to her parents and threw her arms around them. “Thank you!”
Doronal blinked. What just happened? He glanced questioningly at Cheddar.
Looking fairly emotional himself, the young man shrugged. “Long story.” He turned back to the three. “Suffice it to say, all is well, now.”
Doronal grunted and walked back to Millinith.
She eyed him briefly then looked back up to the dragon performance. “A feather.”
He chuckled. Her confusion and inability to discern his intentions would perhaps be an even better punishment than what he planned for later. A few images flashed through his mind, and with cheeks warming, he quickly decided that later would, in fact, be better for both of them.
Slipping the cap back on, he searched for the dragon performing the next trick.
“Yes, Renata, I do have the long straps on. Now please leave off on the idle chatter. I need to concentrate.” Jessip sounded a little worried.
“Noted.” Renata’s acknowledgment was clipped.
What was Jessip going to do?
A tap on his shoulder drew his gaze to Millinith, who pointed.
Again from the west, a strangely shaped dragon approached. The odd silhouette stumped him until they were much closer.
He stared. “Jessip is standing in the saddle?”
Millinith’s chuckle was all the response he got.
The crowds were just as impressed. Sounds of awe and cheers came from the north and south.
As they neared the west end of the track, Zolin banked and the two began to circle over the sports field and track. Once, twice they went round to much clapping and many cheers.
Zolin banked out of the looping course and took them away, over the Caer to the south. About half a minute later, they again appeared from the west, Jessip still standing on the saddle. When they reached the track this time, though, Zolin rolled over.
Heart in his throat, Doronal let out a choked gasp.
The crowds did the same, though there were a few screams mixed in. Those were soon eclipsed by loud cheers and laughter as Zolin continued over the track and beyond with Jessip’s boots apparently glued to the saddle. The young man was suspended by them, upside down, arms held out and waving.
Doronal let out a breath. “Barbs and pissing blades. This show is going to end my life.” He glanced at Huemac. I assume you knew about this, too?
His bond-mate wouldn’t meet his gaze.
A kiss on the cheek distracted him.
Millinith turned back toward the track. “You’re much too cute when out of sorts.”
He cleared his throat.
“Well done, Jessip!” Aeron’s voice drew Doronal’s gaze upward.
She chuckled. “Not much. The show ends at lunch.”
His stomach rumbled, surprising him. Apparently hunger was still possible, even as anxious as he was.
“And a good thing, too, it seems.” A smile curved her lips. “Lord Baronel has invited me to lunch with him and Lady Rora. Lord Eldin and Lady Lora will be there, too.” She looked up at the sky. “I can bring a guest, if you’re interested.”
“Dining with Eldin doesn’t sound very attractive, but as long as you’ll be there, I would love to.”
“Good.”
He turned to her and smiled. “Shall we change beforehand?”
“I think not. The riding gear will serve as a nice reminder to Lord Eldin of who we are and what we do. He’s the type of person who needs constant reminders.”
“While you make a good point about Eldin,” he said, “and I am a member of the Dragon Craft Guild, in point of fact, I remain the Caer’s Master Sorcerer.”
“And Baronel is our Lord Sponsor, yes.” She curved her lips in a sly smile. “Reminding Lord Eldin that the guild has many ties and supporters is also important.”
“Oh?”
“As you know, his company is about to start on a massive expansion of its rail lines, which means he’ll have a great deal more of them that need to be patrolled. I’m certain he’s going to want to renegotiate the contract with the guild at some point and I don’t want the man to think we’ll be an easy mark.”
He chuckled. “You’re going to use this luncheon to further your goals.”
She shrugged. “Why not? Eldin is purportedly here for the dragon show, but I expect that is not his main reason.” She glanced side-long at him. “How about a little wager?”
He narrowed his eyes. “I’m listening.”
“If Lord Eldin asks about the contract, or for a meeting to talk about the contract, you, sir, will reveal to me the details of this plan of yours for the feather.”
A laugh burst from his lips. She was still trying to puzzle that out? Not that she would be averse to it. Quite the contrary. “I see. But what if he does not? What are you offering should you lose?”
“Is your mother at Delcimaar, or the country estate?”
Drawing his brows together, he said, “At Delcimaar for the festival. Why?”
“Then my stake will be that, later, we stay at your family’s country estate, just the two of us. I’ll leave the ’writer behind and give firm instructions to Itzel that under no circumstances will I be accepting messages through her from the guild.”
A tiny smile curved her lips, almost a smirk. “Do you accept the terms of the wager?”
He grinned. Either way, he couldn’t lose. “Indeed, I do.”
+ + + + +
Gella downed the last of the tea and set the cup on the saucer. The meeting with Lady Helena had been less disagreeable than anticipated but still a bother. With everything that had to be prepared for tonight in addition to existing responsibilities, meeting with and placating a woman like Lady Helena had not been something Gella wanted to squander time on. The woman had been obstinately persistent, however, sending letters and even people to these offices on nearly a daily basis with requests—just shy of demands—for information on where the investigation into the payroll robbery stood. In the interest of the sanity of everyone here at police headquarters and the special investigator offices, Gella agreed to meet with the woman and apprise her of recent developments. At least those that could be revealed.
The woman seemed to have been mollified. Even so, Gella was certain the letters and visits would resume within a few days. They would no doubt continue off and on until the case was closed, but for now, there would be a bit of a respite from the annoying inquiries.
Gella stared at the empty teacup and toyed with the idea of stopping by a public house for something a bit stronger before this evening. The unease that had been building about tonight returned, however, making her suddenly antsy.
“Barbs and blades.” Letting out a breath, she stood.
She felt like moving, felt like doing something. Perhaps one more walk-through of the inn would do, followed by a quick visit with those stationed along the carriage route to the Theater for the Performing Arts. The High Lady’s own security detail was there now, preparing for tonight in their own way, but it was Gella’s people and the Stronghold police that were responsible for the security of the route there and back.
As Gella walked down the hallway on the way out, she noted the door to one of the smaller meeting rooms was ajar. Who would be here at this hour on the first day of the festival?
She stepped inside and spied Dima at the table. Crossing her arms, she said, “Shouldn’t you be out and about drinking and looking for someone to keep you company?”
He looked up from a pile of papers and let out a short bark of a laugh. “Ha! I could ask the same of you. Why are you here?”
“I just finished a meeting with Lady Helena and was on my way to the inn for one more inspection.”
He chuckled. “What? Third time’s the charm?”
She sighed. “I know. I’ve just got this uneasy feeling in my gut.” She gestured to the papers. “What about you? What are you into?”
“Honor Investments and the other companies we found the other day. The bill-payers.”
She drew her brows together. “Did you discover something new about them?”
He twisted his lips. “Only in a manner of speaking. I’ve been looking into them since that day. I started with Honor Investments. There were actually a few properties that the company owned outright, and I wanted to determine if it was also paying the public utility bills on those. Turns out, it wasn’t on all of them. There were other companies involved. I then looked at who owned the buildings where Honor Investments only paid the bills. That got me more company names and I repeated the process on all those. In the end, I found an enormous number of buildings all over Stronghold tied to those companies. Interestingly, twenty of those properties are still current with their mortgages and most of those appear to be the sites of real businesses. Today, I wanted to see if I could find some kind of relationship between those companies or properties.”
Gella watched him slide the piles of papers aside, revealing a city map underneath. Stepping over to the table, she said, “Did anything stand out?”
“Unfortunately, no. You may have to meet with the High Lady again for permission to dig deeper into these companies, because I haven’t found anything in the normal records that ties them together.”
He gestured to the map. Small circles in pencil dotted the map. “They’re not clustered in one part of the city, they aren’t all on particular streets, they aren’t in any spatial relationship to each other that I can see, their buildings don’t all have direct access to the storm drains, nor are they all the same height, or square footage, or . . . anything. I’d love to say that there was one thing in common, that the businesses were all headquartered in tenements or apartment buildings, except there is one property that isn’t.” He stabbed a circle on the map with a finger. “That bastard is a warehouse. So—” He raised his hands in defeat.
Looking frustrated, he dropped his hands to his head and vigorously scratched it. “About the only thing I’ve determined is that, aside from those twenty, there were a lot of buildings that these people defaulted on over the past few years, and only a few of those burned.”
Turning to her with a sardonic grin, he said, “Maybe I will go get drunk.”
“Yes, well, before you go, make me a list of those twenty properties. I think I’ll investigate a couple before tonight, see if I can’t burn off some of this nervous energy.”
“You know,” he said, raising a brow, “there are much more fun ways to burn off nervous energy if you’d find someone at the festival instead.”
She laughed and pointed to the table. “Just make me that list.”
Dogged perseverance. With
the almost obsessive care this mysterious group had taken to keep themselves hidden, it would be needed. It had gotten her through many a case before. Hopefully, this one would be no different.
If one of these properties had a clue, she’d find it. She had to. Uncertain as to why, she nevertheless had a strong sense that time was running out.
Chapter 25
Therday, Diamy 28, 1875.
Afternoon.
You asked me to wake you in an hour, Willem. It is time.
The warmly resonant voice in his head finally registered. Opening his eyes, Willem blinked a couple of times at the stone ceiling. Remembering recent events, he smiled and rubbed sleep from his eyes. Thanks, love.
The dragon show performances had gone spectacularly. The audience screamed, cheered, clapped and fairly lost their minds with some of the tricks. Afterward, Master Doronal congratulated them all on stealing at least three years of his life.
Lunch, however, hit them all quite hard. Sharrah thought it was the adrenaline wearing off, coupled with the large meal. Gregor agreed. Fillion suggested an hour-long nap, and after pronouncing him a genius, everyone had headed to their rooms.
Willem turned over to face Aeron.
The young man’s deep, regular breathing indicated that he was still very much asleep.
Perfect.
Willem leaned over, brushed Aeron’s hair aside, and kissed him on the forehead.
“And a good afternoon to you, too.”
“Gah!” Heart pounding, Willem leapt back, bumping into the wall behind. “Good gods, man!”
Aeron let out a sleepy half chuckle, half giggle.
Willem scowled. “You’re taking practice of Investigation Craft lessons entirely too seriously.”
With a languid stretch and a yawn, Aeron said, “You never know when you’ll need them.” He scooted over and snuggled. “What time is it, anyway?”
Willem closed his eyes and enjoyed the snuggle with Aeron. This was . . . happiness.
No!
He opened his eyes. Everyone was supposed to meet up for the trade fair soon, and if he and Aeron didn’t start getting ready, they’d be late.
You could be one or two minutes late.
Of Gods, Trees, and a Sapling: Dragonlinked Chronicles Volume 4 Page 81
