A Storm in the Desert: Dragonlinked Chronicles Voume 3

by Adolfo Garza Jr.

  Guildmaster Millinith lowered herself back to the ledge. “She is Master Gella, Special Investigator for High Lady Hasana.”

  Aeron’s eyes widened.

  “With Dragonlinked Fillion and Guildmaster Millinith’s assistance,” Master Gella said, “I’ve been looking into a murder.”

  Polandra blinked. Murder? She took a closer look at the young woman. Special Investigator meant nothing to Polandra, but there was more to her, it seemed, than was at first apparent.

  Master Gella frowned. “A fellow investigator was killed while checking into National Transportation. He left behind notes and clues that led us here.”

  “Clues?” Aeron stepped closer to her. “What kind of clues?”

  “Three clues, actually,” Fillion said.

  Master Gella glanced at him. “Apparently, the investigator found some salt from the flats below. Where he found it, I am not sure, but find it he did. He had it analyzed. The report listing the results of the analysis was one clue.”

  “There was also a worn coin,” Fillion said, “and a bag of course powder, grit, he called it. Which makes sense. It was very gritty.”

  “His notes said the analysis led him to GF,” Master Gella said, “which turned out to be Ghost Flats.”

  “And, he said that GF led him to NT, which we think means National Transportation.” Fillion shrugged. “He must have found this camp, too.”

  Master Gella nodded. “The notes further mention that he got the powder from NT, which means he must have gotten into the camp.” She walked over and peeked down below. “If he did it, I can do it.”

  Aeron moved up and looked over the ridge beside her. “I wonder what they’re polishing down there.”

  “Polishing?” The Guildmaster looked at him.

  Master Gella turned to him. “What do you mean?”

  “Hmm?” Aeron glanced at them. “With the grit. It’s used for polishing.”

  Master Gella grabbed his arm and hauled him back down to the others. Brows drawn together, she said, “Explain.”

  Polandra stared at the woman. Why was she so agitated?

  Aeron looked surprised, too. “Um, well, my mother often used sandpaper to smooth out finished pieces. Course grit paper first, then finer and finer grit as she went along. The last paper was so fine, you almost couldn’t tell it was sandpaper at all.”

  Master Gella grunted. “That’s not really polishing.”

  “Actually, it kind of is. After that last paper, she’d clean the piece really well to remove wood dust and then she’d apply the varnish. It was so smooth, it looked like glass.” He looked from Master Gella to Guildmaster Millinith. “I also know that the powder used for polishing gemstones is often called grit.”

  Master Gella bowed her head in thought. “Something. You’re on to something, I think. I just can’t quite . . .”

  The woman’s focus reminded Polandra just how odd what they all were doing was. Surveillance, information gathering, and assisting with a murder investigation? There was obviously much more to the guild than she had first assumed.

  Master Gella shook her head and said, “Never mind. How long have you two been here, anyway?”

  Aeron frowned. “Too long.” He turned to Polandra. “Three and a half hours?”

  She nodded. “At least.”

  “Good. What can you tell me about the camp?”

  As Polandra and Aeron explained everything they’d seen so far, Master Gella asked questions now and again. She was able to get more from them than Polandra thought they even knew.

  “Excellent.” Master Gella nodded. “And what brought you two here?”

  What could be revealed? Polandra bit her lip and glanced at Guildmaster Millinith.

  “Yes,” the young woman said, “tell us anything you’ve learned.”

  With her go-ahead, Polandra nodded. “Well, we know how they’re faking dragon attacks, for one thing.”

  She and Aeron explained what they saw. She included her own questions about which members of the Order knew what. “It isn’t entirely clear if those manisi below know about the faked attacks. But they’re obviously part of the faction working with National Transportation.”

  “Agreed.” Guildmaster Millinith twirled a bit of her hair with a finger. “What we still don’t know is exactly how closely that faction is in with the company. Based on your observations, the manisi here only seem to enter the camp to rest. Everyone else in the camp looks to be from the North, which likely means they are National Transportation employees or temporary hirelings. You said some of them went into the building and have yet to leave?”

  Polandra nodded.

  “Yeah,” Aeron said. “They must be the ones doing whatever it is they do.”

  “It would be nice to know exactly what is going on down there.” Fillion frowned.

  Master Gella glanced at him. “I aim to discover that this evening.”

  Aeron, looking down through binocs, said, “Well, whatever they’re doing, it’s going to give them a lot of something to haul away on that wagon.”

  “Sunset will be in three or four hours.” Polandra looked around. “I don’t know about the rest of you, but I’m starving.”

  “Gods, me too,” Aeron said.

  “So,” Polandra continued, “how about Aeron and I summon our dragons, portal to the Caer, and grab some food for everyone?”

  “What an excellent suggestion.” Guildmaster Millinith nodded at her in approval. “Could you bring something warm to drink, as well? Not so much for now, but for tonight?”

  They asked Ikan and Anaya to join them, but to fly at an altitude of around two thousand feet. If someone could spot them that high and identify them for what they were, that someone would deserve some kind of award.

  A little over an hour later, when the dragons let them know they were close, Fillion led Polandra and Aeron to where Coatl was hidden away deeper in the hills, a few miles south. Ikan and Anaya arrived not too long after, and Aeron opened a portal to the Caer. He suggested they fly straight to the courtyard in front of the Residence, just south of the Dining Hall.

  “No reason not to,” he shouted, after they came through the gateway. “And it will save time instead of walking there and back. I’m really, really hungry.”

  That was fine with Polandra. She was starving too. Let’s land where he said.

  Ikan rumbled agreement and followed Anaya to the northeast.

  Though a few stared, most people didn’t spare them more than a glance or two when they landed. Aeron jumped to the ground and ran up the steps to the Dining Hall. Polandra followed. Once inside, Aeron headed for a door near the serving area and knocked.

  “Mallory!” Aeron smiled at the woman who opened the door.

  “Aeron, so nice to see yeh.” She smiled back. “What sort o’ trouble yeh getting into these days?”

  “Oh, you know,” he shrugged and grinned, “the same.”

  “A’course.” She chuckled. “Who’s yer friend?”

  “This is Polandra,” Aeron said. “Polandra, this is Mallory.”

  “What a pretty name,” Mallory said. “Nice to meet yeh.”

  “Thank you. It is nice to meet you, too.” Polandra bowed her head.

  “And Anaya?” Mallory turned back to Aeron. “How’s she?”

  “She’s doing great. Getting bigger all the time, though it’s slower going, now.”

  Her eyes narrowed. “Yer keeping her well-fed? Not starving her, are yeh?”

  Aeron raised his hands and laughed. “No, no. She eats as much as she wants. And speaking of which, Guildmaster Millinith sent us here to get some sandwiches or wraps for five people. Oh, and hot cider, too, in thermal bottles, for later tonight.”

  “Ah, well, tha’ shouldnae be a problem.” She gestured behind them to the tables. “Have a seat, then, and I’ll have ‘em ready in two shakes.”

  The woman was as good as her word. Not too long after, she brought out two packages while assistants followed, carrying
two large satchels.

  “One has beef wraps,” Mallory said, patting a package, “the other, chicken. And these,” she motioned the assistants to put the satchels on the table, “are the thermal bottles. I’ve included six, in case someone wants more.” She turned to Aeron. “I expect to get the satchels and bottles back, hear?”

  He smiled. “Yes, ma’am.” Picking up the satchels, he told Polandra, “I’ll get these, if you’ll grab the wraps?”

  She nodded and grabbed the paper-wrapped packages. “Sure.”

  “Thanks again, Mallory,” he said over his shoulder as he headed for the door.

  Mallory smiled and waved. “Any time.”

  Outside, two groups of people had gathered, watching the dragons.

  You okay?

  I am fine. They are excited to see us.

  The groups were small, three and four people, and they were mostly young, aged nine to perhaps nineteen.

  “Good afternoon,” Aeron said and smiled as he started tying the satchels to Anaya’s saddle.

  Several voices responded. “Afternoon, dragonlinked.” “Afternoon.”

  One of the young girls spoke up. “Are you on a secret mission?” Her eyes were wide with excitement.

  “What makes you think we are?” Aeron, still working on the satchels, glanced at her over his shoulder.

  “You and your dragons are normally at the dragon stables or flying about. You aren’t normally other places in the Caer.”

  “Ah, very clever.” He turned to her. “Well, if I were on a secret mission, I wouldn’t be at liberty to say, now would I?” Tapping the side of his nose, he winked.

  The girl giggled and turned to her friend. In a much too loud whisper, she said, “I told you!”

  The oldest boy, a young man, really, said, “When will applications be accepted at the guild?” His eyes, full of wonder, never left Ikan.

  “Once construction at the Guildhall progresses a little farther,” Aeron said, “they’ll start accepting applications. A month or so, perhaps?”

  “Golden!”

  Polandra tucked the packages into Ikan’s saddle bags. Though she felt wary, she couldn’t really blame these people. Dragons were amazing creatures, after all. But it did make her feel a little uncomfortable, having so many desiring eyes on her bond-mate. She patted his neck and pulled herself up into the saddle.

  “If you’ll excuse us,” Aeron said, “we have to get back to our, ah,” he glanced at the girl, “patrol mission.”

  She gave him a conspiratorial wink.

  With a wink back, Aeron climbed into the saddle. “Step back a little, folks. They need plenty of room in order to take off.”

  Polandra smiled. She could see why many people liked Aeron.

  Once the groups had retreated enough, the dragons leapt into the sky, enormous wings pounding the air. With a wave to those below, they entered the portal.

  The wraps were enthusiastically welcomed by everyone back at the flats.

  “These are quite good,” Master Gella said. “My compliments to your culinary staff.”

  “Master Tallah doesn’t settle for anything less than delicious.” Aeron took a bite of his wrap. “And neither do the people under her.”

  “The biscuits at the Caer are even better than my mom’s,” Fillion said. “And believe me, that’s hard to do.”

  “Anything happen while we were gone?” Polandra looked at the Guildmaster.

  “No,” she replied, “just more of the same.”

  “As you two said, the patrols are in a set pattern.” Master Gella ate the last of her second wrap and dusted her hands off. “The individual routes change up a little, but the way they do so repeats.” She smiled. “That will make it easier for me tonight.” She climbed up to the ridge and made use of a pair of field-glasses.

  “Now we wait.” Guildmaster Millinith carefully made her way up next to Master Gella and looked down at the camp through her own pair of binocs.

  Polandra looked at Aeron. “The attitudes of the people in the Caer toward dragons is so different from what I am used to. Even the children like dragons.”

  He smiled. “That little girl was adorable, wasn’t she? And why wouldn’t they like dragons? We don’t have people saying dragons are evil. I actually did some research on dragons and I didn’t find a single, truthful, negative thing about them. That was one reason I was so shocked to learn of the Order.”

  Polandra nodded. For Renata and her, things were a little different. “I felt so alone.”

  “Alone?” Fillion looked at her.

  Polandra twisted her lips. “Yeah. After I learned the truth, while I was training in the manisi.” She took a deep breath and let it out. “Every day, every moment, I had to pretend, because I was . . . not the same as them. I wanted to tell them, to shout at them, ‘you’re wrong!’ But if I let them know how I really felt, punishment would have been the least of my worries.” She shook her head. “And do you know what the worst part is? I’m sure most, if not all of them, would feel the same way we do about dragons if they could get past the prejudice, if they could just cast off the lies they’d been told and see dragons for what they really are.”

  “They’re people.”

  Polandra glanced at Aeron and nodded. “They’re people, just like us. They hope and dream and laugh and cry.” She was surprised at the tightness in her throat. “When I think of all those killed because of the Hour of Creation, it breaks my heart.”

  “Hey,” Fillion sat next to her and put his arm over her shoulder. “Yes, the Order’s past is terrible. Bad things happened. But we’re working to stop that.”

  “Exactly,” Aeron said.

  Polandra swallowed against the tightness. “You’re right.” She chuckled. “Gods, I must be really tired. I’m near to crying like a babe.”

  “To be honest,” Aeron said, “I’m getting really sleepy myself.”

  “Yeah,” Fillion said. “All this sitting around after the meal, doing nothing, in this heat? I’m bushed.”

  “Perhaps I’ll take a nap,” Polandra said.

  She wasn’t the only one. They found spots along the bottom of the ridge, sheltered from the sun, to settle down for a late afternoon snooze.

  After a quick request to Ikan to wake her when night came, she found as comfortable a sheltered spot as she could, leaned back, and closed her eyes.

  It felt as if no time had passed when Ikan woke her.

  Polandra. It is time.

  Opening her eyes, she rubbed her face. It was cooler now and stars lit up the darkening sky. Thanks, love.

  Fillion handed her a thermal bottle and whispered, “I still don’t understand why a desert gets so cold.”

  She nodded her thanks, uncapped it, and drank the warm cider.

  “It’s winter, pudding-for-brains.” Aeron’s lips were skewed in a half grin.

  There wasn’t a breeze anymore, whispering over them. The near silence made everyone move carefully and quietly. No one wanted to alert the camp to their presence.

  “As cool as it gets here at night, it’s still warmer than at the Caer.” Guildmaster Millinith capped her bottle and set it aside. She turned her gaze on the investigator.

  Master Gella was quietly getting ready. She’d changed into a dark jacket and dark pants. Even her shoes and gloves were dark. The pale skin of her face, below short, dark hair, was all that was easily visible, though it wouldn’t be for long. She was applying some sort of dark cream.

  “I’ll have Coatl warn you,” Fillion told her, “if we see anything unusual while you’re down there.”

  “Good.” Master Gella nodded. “Continue to be careful when watching the camp, however. Though it is night, the guards are still keeping an eye out and light can reflect off the glass lenses of the binocles.”

  She left their hideout and headed south, away from the camp. The master investigator would make her way farther to the southwest and sneak into the camp from the other side. Her reasoning made perfect sense t
o Polandra. If the patrols were going to be lax at all, it would be on the side of the camp they do not expect to find anyone—the side facing the deep desert.

  All of them lay, bellies on the ground, near the top of the ridge, looking down at the camp below. Wary of reflected light, Guildmaster Millinith had cast a spell on them—Aeron mentioned that she’d eventually learn it in dragonlinked training—which kept them in darkness. From its shelter, they watched the camp for anything that would endanger their plan.

  It wasn’t until nearly an hour later that Guildmaster Millinith whispered, “I see her. On the other side of the camp, near that tent.”

  After a bit of searching, Polandra found her. She was among the larger, heavier tents near the building. These were likely storage or work areas. The smaller tents, where workers rested and slept, were at the north end of the camp, along the perimeter.

  Master Gella waited at various locations, out of sight of patrols, and when the way was clear, she moved very quickly to the next. It appeared she was making her way to the tent where the wagon was located. She had to make a few detours along the way to avoid light from lanterns and campfires and the occasional person walking about the camp.

  Polandra wasn’t sure how it would be possible to get under the tent. There were two guards stationed in front of it, and more walked around it in a constant patrol. No side of the tent was ever out of view of a guard. And who knew if there were more inside?

  It seemed Master Gella had come to the same conclusion. Instead of making for the tent, she was now working her way around toward the front of it. Perhaps she wanted a look inside? One more tent and she’d be in a good position to do so from perhaps forty feet away.

  She was doing exactly that a few minutes later, peeking around the corner of a tent with binocs, when a door on the large building opened and two men walked out. Their path would take them in front of Master Gella in a few seconds.

  Without looking away, Polandra whispered, “Fillion!”

  “I see them.”

  Polandra held her breath as she watched the men.

  Come on Coatl, warn her!

  Six more steps and they’d be in front of the tent Master Gella was peeking around. Though she was in shadow, her head and upper torso would be in full view of them.