The healer’s expression became serious. “Oh?”
“Yeah. They’re going to transfer the chests to a train. I need to contact Investigator Gella, find out what she wants me to do about it.”
“I see.” Gregor gave Coatl a pat on the shoulder. “Well, go on then. The faster you get all this done, the sooner you’ll be back in the Caer for good.”
Fillion didn’t bother holding back the smile. “Yeah.”
He was still smiling when he walked in the investigation office.
Guildmaster Millinith was sitting at her desk. She looked up. “Fillion?” Her brows rose. “Is something wrong?”
“No. Well, not wrong, exactly, but the wagon caravan is about to meet up with a train. I think they’re going to transfer the chests to it for the remainder of the trip to Stronghold. I was wondering if you could contact Master Gella and let her know. I think she might want to change our plans.”
Already working at the ether writer, the Guildmaster nodded. “Yes, I think she might, too.” Moments later, Millinith frowned. “Hmm. No response yet. She doesn’t appear to have her ‘writer with her. If you’d like to spend some time—” Her gazed flicked back to the device. “Hang on, she’s there now. Ah, she was in a meeting.” Faint clicking came from the stylus as the Guildmaster scribbled out her message on the metal writing plate.
“She does want to change plans. You’ll pick her up in fifteen minutes at the rear plaza of the Bureau of Guilds. She wants to see the train for herself.”
He nodded. “Alright.”
“And Fillion?”
“Ma’am?”
“Stay focused. All of you. These people will do anything to protect their interests.”
The memory of the dead investigator, neck sliced open, came back to him. He took a breath and let it out. “Yes, ma’am. We will.” He closed the office door as he left and headed back to the stable.
Gregor and Kisa were keeping Coatl company. The dragons were chirping at each other, though Coatl’s were a deeper pitch.
The big dragon turned to Fillion. The dead man didn’t have a bond-mate. We are a good team. We will protect each other.
Fillion nodded. That’s true, big guy.
Gregor and Kisa welcomed him back with a smile and a happy bark.
There were a few minutes before they had to go, and Fillion would spend them with his most favorite people in the world. This right here was why none of them could afford to let their guards down. He did not want to lose this.
Sooner than he would have liked, they were off. Coatl circled down to land in the courtyard behind the Bureau of Guilds. Investigator Gella waited below.
Do you think Caer Baronel will ever get this big?
Fillion’s brows rose. I don’t know. I suppose it could, now that we’re protecting people from nahual. If it does become a city, it will feel weird to just call it Baronel.
Coatl backwinged to a stop and then dropped the last couple of feet to the ground.
Investigator Gella approached them.
Fillion bowed in the saddle. “Master Investigator.”
“Dragonlinked.” With a half-grin, Master Gella said, “Gods, but I wish all the people I worked with were as prompt as you two.” She bowed her head to his bond-mate. “Coatl.”
He chirped a greeting and lifted his foreleg.
“We should have expected this, I suppose.” Master Gella climbed behind Fillion. After strapping in, she said, “How long ago did you leave the train?”
“Nearly two and a half hours.”
“Two and—” She grabbed his shoulder. “Why did you take so long?”
“Oh, no, the wagon hadn’t reached the train, it was still on the way. We flew ahead along the tracks so that we could have a place to return to far ahead in case the train was faster than we expected. Actually, they may still be loading the chests on the train right now.”
Master Gella nodded. “I see. Let’s try the end of the line first, see if the train is still there.”
“Let’s go, big guy.” Fillion patted him on the neck.
Once through the portal, Fillion had set it nearly a thousand feet up, he closed it and they hovered.
“You were right.” Master Gella, binocs held to her eyes, looked at the site far below. “Though only just. They’re loading the last two chests this very moment. You have Ulthis’s own luck with your timing.”
She is more impressed than she is letting on.
Fillion chuckled.
“Did you note any side branches along the tracks as you flew north?”
“No, ma’am. It was a straight shot the whole way.”
“Any towns or villages?”
“None.”
“Alright. Take us to the last place you were at along the tracks.”
Once there, she had them fly north, following the twin metal rails.
“I’d like to find out exactly where we are,” Master Gella yelled over the rushing air. “If we can find a village, I can locate us on a map I brought along.”
Fillion yelled over his shoulder. “To what end?”
“If we aren’t too far from Stronghold, I want us to fly the entire way. That will give you the city as a destination, which could come in handy later. You can then drop me off at the first village out from Stronghold where I can get a horse and approach alone in disguise. I’ll have time to get certain preparations made before the train arrives.”
“Alone?”
“Yes. This next part I will handle myself.”
Fillion frowned and faced forward.
He felt a hand on his shoulder. “You’re good, Fillion. Very good. But you have no experience in the field. This investigation is extremely important and very dangerous. I’m sorry, but I will have to go alone.”
“You’re right.” He turned to her. “I am good.” He smiled. “And have absolutely no experience in the field. Eventually, that will change, though.”
She laughed and shook her head. “I do not doubt it. Let’s find how close we are to Stronghold. We’ll see where we go from there.”
He’d been a little surprised at how disappointed he’d felt. But she was right. If they ran into trouble, did he know what to do? And that, too. How did one avoid running into trouble? Was the disguise she talked about part of that? What kind of disguise was it? She’d also mentioned preparations, but what were they? And how was she so sure that the train was even going to Stronghold? What if the chests were going to be taken somewhere else this time?
When he asked that question, her answer was simple. “The train must follow the tracks.” She pointed below. “You said there were no side-branches, at least to where you two flew. If there are none all the way to Stronghold, the train cannot go anywhere else. If we do find branches before the city, we’ll adjust plans accordingly. Besides which, the shipment on that receipt went to a station in Stronghold.”
Logical. And if he’d thought about it for half a second, he’d have had the answer for himself. Trains were a great deal faster than horses and even more so than wagons, but they could only travel on their twin metal tracks.
“How fast is Coatl?”
Fillion looked over his shoulder. “Right now?”
Master Gella nodded.
“With the two of us, he’s probably going around forty, maybe forty-five miles an hour.”
I am flying a little faster than normal.
Now see here, leather bag, don’t tire yourself too much.
I am not. The two of you are in a hurry, and also, the winds are from behind my tail. That makes flying easier.
“What did he say?”
He blinked at her. “Sorry?”
“You had that look. What did he say?”
Fillion chuckled. She picked things up quick. “He says he’s actually going faster than normal. Maybe as fast as fifty or fifty-five miles an hour?”
She shook her head. “That’s incredible. Still, the distance to Stronghold is enormous. Can he maintain that speed for that long?�
��
“No. We’ll take short breaks as needed.”
In the end, they only took one break. They stretched their legs, took turns behind some trees, and sat around a bit. Coatl soon insisted that he was rested enough, and Fillion could feel that he was, so they resumed their flight.
It took nearly five hours, all said, and even from a few miles out, Stronghold was just as big, just as . . . intimidating, as Delcimaar. Coatl hovered as they all gazed at the ancient city.
“Set it in your mind.”
Fillion glanced at Master Gella.
“Or whatever it is you do,” she said. “Being able to get from one side of the continent to the other instantly will have its advantages.”
He could see how that was true, so he wanted to make sure that enough details of this place could be recalled. Take us to that hill over there.
Coatl turned toward the low rise and banked down.
A few beats of his massive wings and they were landing. After dismounting, Fillion retrieved his gateway book. Master Gella watched as he did a hasty sketch of the city and surrounds from the hilltop point of view.
“It’s nothing artistic at all,” he said. “These serve more as reminders of where I’ve been, so I can place an anchor later for the gateway spell.”
“I don’t know,” Master Gella said, staring at his sketch in progress, “that looks pretty good to me. Though, I’m no artist either.”
When he was done, Fillion stuffed the sketchbook back in the saddlebags. “So. There were no side-branches at all. What do you want to do?”
“I think we part ways here, for now.” She pointed to a distant cluster of buildings. “I’ll head to that village on foot, buy a horse, and head to Stronghold.”
He nodded.
“Don’t look so glum. This will likely be the last part of the investigation. National Transportation will pay for what they’ve done and what they were trying to do.”
“Good. Murderers should pay for their crimes.”
“I wouldn’t be anywhere this far along without your help, without Coatl’s help, and without the Dragon Craft Guild’s help. I’ll be sure to tell High Lady Hasana as much.”
Fillion smiled. “Guildmaster Millinith will be glad to hear that. And I want to thank you, too.”
“Oh?”
“I’m positive what I want to take as my secondary craft, now.”
She smiled. “Excellent. Good minds are always welcome in my line of work.” She walked over to Coatl and patted his shoulder. “Thank you, Coatl, for the rides.”
You are very welcome.
“Goodness!” She turned to Fillion, brows raised, and laughed. “I’ll let Guildmaster Millinith know when I’m ready to be picked up. In the meantime, fare thee well, Dragon, Dragonlinked.”
Coatl chirped.
“Take care, Master Gella.”
With a nod, the master investigator turned and started down the ridge.
+ + + + +
Takatin watched the runner leave. The boy, a pesan, had so much energy, so much passion for his duties, he couldn’t seem to keep still. After delivering the note, he’d bobbed a quick bow, smiled, and now he fairly ran for the door and the hallways beyond, no doubt eager to be running his next message.
There had been a time when Takatin felt the same, was the same. When he was that young, the Corpus Order had been all he’d wanted.
If I could just be part of those people, it would be amazing!
Takatin shook his head. How ingenuous he’d been. Life had seemed so simple. His desires had been so simple. It had taken him some time and far too many losses to realize that life was cruel and his desires had been foolish and naive.
He opened the sealed note.
Of course, while life was cruel, it didn’t really have an agenda, whereas—
As he read the short message, Takatin furrowed his brows. Cirtis was redirecting the manis patrols? No, the night patrol routes were merely being modified a bit. But why? And what was this about whistles? The note was to apprise him of these supposed minor changes, but Takatin wanted to know more before he allowed them to continue.
About to signal Chu’a to summon his pesan, Takatin lowered his hand and stood instead. The girl was off running errands. He’d have to visit the manisi unannounced. As he left the room, he signaled Chu’a that he’d return within the hour.
“Nesch Takatin!” Umeron Gomda stood and bowed his head an appropriate amount. “We didn’t expect you.” He’d sent the note, but feigned ignorance for others present.
Takatin glanced at the other umeron in the room. She’d stood with everyone else and bowed as well. Unaware of his dealings with Gomda, the surprise on her face was genuine.
He looked from one umeron to the other. “It has come to my attention that the manis patrol routes have been adjusted. Might I ask why? With so few available for these patrols, we must be careful how we allocate them.”
“I adjusted them for precisely that reason, Nesch Takatin.” Umeron Kimi bowed her head again. “Capu Cirtis came to us with a concern about the Order’s perception. Our reputation with the people of the villages is in decline. They hear about dragon attacks at Ghost Flats, hear about the bodies found there, yet despite sending all those Manisi there, the Corpus Order has not found a single dragon in all our searching.”
Damn him. And damn this woman for—
He took a breath. “Yes. I know of the rumblings.”
“I’ve—” She glanced at Umeron Gomda. “The manisi have begun specialized training to deal with the creatures that have been attacking villagers. Nahual, they are called.”
Takatin frowned. Nahual?
“By killing these creatures, by defending the villages from them, we will be seen as continuing to protect the people while we look for the dragon or dragons in the flats.”
“The modifications to the routes are fairly minor,” Umeron Gomda said. “And with the use of whistles, the hands can patrol villages more efficiently. If a manis finds something, they use the whistle to summon the others of their hand.”
Takatin couldn’t think of anything to argue against. He again looked from one umeron to the other. “We should not forget our primary purpose. A potential dragon sighting occurred recently. Make sure the patrols continue to keep watch on the skies. We cannot afford to miss a dragon as we search for these . . . nahual.”
Chapter 19
Therday, Secundy 16, 1875.
Afternoon
Anaya pulled her head back and let out a little bark at Balam. Stop stroking my neck that way.
The dark green dragon looked at her, gold eyes sparkling. Why do you want me to stop? I can sense that you enjoy it. He began to lean his head closer, no doubt in order to rub her neck with his cheek again.
She poked the side of his face with her nose, pushing him back. That is the point. I enjoy it too much. The room is not quite ready. We must have patience.
He let out a soft rumble—a sigh—and lay his head on the floor of their den, eyes on her. As you wish.
Though he had relented, memories of her ancestors continued to flash through her mind. Wings and limbs and tails and the rest. It was a good thing dragons could not blush, or her face would be as red as Willem’s sometimes was. She had spoken calmly to Balam about it, but she was just as—
Are you okay, dear-heart? You seem really . . . excited?
Anaya blinked and distanced herself from the link. I am fine. The trip does have me a little excited.
Me too!
Their normal nahual patrols had been cut back in order that they could patrol around the villages in the South. Aeron did not mind and neither did Anaya. They had been killing nahual in their region for many months now. Most had been discovered, hopefully, and it should take some time for more to replace those already taken care of, so they could afford to patrol their region a little less. And it was their purpose, after all, to protect people. Even those in the South.
The southern patrols had actually found and
had four nahual killed in the last three weeks. The success so far of her brothers and sisters and their bond-mates made Anaya proud. She and Aeron had a southern patrol tonight, but right now, they were going on a special trip along with all the dragonlinked who were free.
I think Polandra’s idea is very good.
I do too, dear-heart. It’s genius. Much better than making who-knows-how-many trips back and forth with sacks. I’m a little jealous that I didn’t think of it, truth be told.
Willem walked into the den and smiled at the two of them. “Hey, guys.” He walked to Balam’s saddle on the stand and began inspecting it.
Are you done with your shower? Willem is preparing Balam’s saddle.
I’m toweling off right now. I just had to wash off after examining that dead person for Investigation Craft training.
You felt like you did when you started helping Millinith with examining dead nahual.
Yes. It’ll take me a while to get used to it. It’s still creepy to me. Fillion kept reminding me that nahual aren’t the only things to be examined at attack sites. He mentioned that murdered investigator again. He’s right, of course. Still, I’m not sure I’ll ever get over seeing a dead person, much less having to examine one.
Anaya felt a hint of embarrassment through the link. That is not something to be ashamed of. If you ever feel nothing while looking at a dead person, then you should feel ashamed.
A big mental hug came from him. Have I ever mentioned that I love you? Because I do.
Willem was looking over Anaya’s saddle when Aeron trotted in. “Ah, good. Let me just toss these in the laundry basket and I’ll help with the saddles.”
With the two of them working together, she and Balam were soon saddled and walking out the dragon door into the courtyard.
“About time!” Liara, sitting behind Polandra on Ikan, smiled at them.
“Sorry!” Aeron ducked his head. “I had to grab a quick shower.” He looked at Renata. “You sure you have a good mental image of where to open the portal in the room?”
“I do. The Guildmaster made sure of it.” Anaya could feel the resigned humor from her.
A Storm in the Desert: Dragonlinked Chronicles Voume 3 Page 37
