A Storm in the Desert: Dragonlinked Chronicles Voume 3

by Adolfo Garza Jr.

  “Gods,” Willem said. “Can you imagine if someone had been standing there?”

  Millinith walked to the squash and examined it. “Even with the thump it took from the drop, it seems to be unharmed.” She turned to Jessip. “The knife?”

  He ran over with the butcher knife and handed it to her.

  “Let’s see how it looks inside.” After slicing it open, she could find nothing amiss within. “Nothing unusual. It seems to have made the trip without incident.” She set one half aside and stuck the knife into it. The other, she took back to the origin area and placed it on the ground next to the pit.

  “Renata? If you could set the box on top?”

  She nodded and placed the glass container atop the squash half, stepping back after.

  “Now for test two. A live animal subject. When you’re ready, Willem.”

  Dirt, half a squash, and the glass display box fell from the destination portal, tumbling the short distance to the ground.

  Renata ran over and checked on the fly. “It seems fine. It’s buzzing around as if nothing is wrong.” She handed the box to Millinith.

  After studying it a moment, Millinith gave it to Sharrah. “You can observe the fly while we ready the next test.” She turned to Gregor. “If you would?”

  He twisted his lips. “Well, since the fly seems to have made it through with no issues . . .” Walking to the two small pits, he set a saucer on the ground next to them and filled the small dish with milk.

  Fillion carried Snow to the saucer and set him down, petting him until he started to lap at the milk. Fillion looked up at Millinith, brows drawn together. “He’d better not get hurt.”

  “The fly seems fine,” Sharrah said and set the glass box down. “Otherwise, I wouldn’t recommend further tests.”

  “Nor would I,” Millinith said. “That’s why we’re doing graduated tests. We started with simple life, and are moving on to more complicated forms as previous tests are successful.”

  “I don’t want your cat to come to harm, either,” Willem said, “but it’s better to find out now if there is a problem with using a portal this way, rather than when Aeron and Anaya try.”

  Fillion twisted his lips in a frown and looked at Snow. “You sure the fly’s okay?”

  “He’s fine,” Sharrah said, “flying around without a care in the world.”

  Fillion nodded. Then, after a quick stroke of the cat’s head, he stood and stepped back. Gregor took his hand.

  Millinith looked at the white cat. She didn’t want him to come to harm either, but things stood just as Willem had said. They needed to know. And based on the fly, it seemed the cat should be fine. Should be.

  “Final test,” she said and nodded to Willem.

  At the destination, another chunk of dirt, the saucer, and Snow, fell to the ground. Milk spilled, and once his paws hit the courtyard, Snow sprinted to Coatl and jumped behind his forelegs. The mahogany dragon let out a low croon, lowered his head, and touched his nose to the frightened cat. A plaintive yowl was followed by quick glances about the yard, then Snow stretched up and rubbed his face against Coatl’s nose.

  Fillion let out a loud breath. “Okay. He seems fine, if not a little startled.”

  Millinith let out her own breath, though quietly. “Excellent. Do keep an eye on him, however, and let me know if you notice anything out of the ordinary.”

  “We will,” Gregor said.

  “It looks like Aeron and Anaya should be fine,” Sharrah said, closing the notebook.

  “Well,” Cheddar said, “as long as they keep clear of the sphere’s edge.”

  “I’ll let them know about this,” Willem said, “when I visit them tonight.”

  “Good. Using the portal spell was meant to save them, not kill them.” Millinith looked at their faces. “All of you need to be careful, though. It would not do to rescue them only to have someone else be captured.” She was definitely going to have a talk with their Animal Craft auditor, and soon. Something needed to be done about dragons being considered animals. Once they were considered the same as people, then laws already in place would protect them, too.

  Polandra nodded. “We’ll all keep it in mind, Guildmaster.”

  + + + + +

  Staring at the ceiling, Aeron went over the fight again and again, but came up with nothing that he could have been done differently.

  I think you did very well against five people. If I did not have the other hand chasing me, I could have helped counter spells on you.

  I just wish I could have gotten away. I was able to separate most of them from me with the barrier, but unfortunately, they were still able to cast spells.

  That is true. The barrier does not block your view.

  Aeron narrowed his eyes. Was it possible to modify Francisco’s Barrier so that the sorcerous wall was opaque?

  The memory of how difficult it was to make things out at Ghost Flats through the heat shimmers came to mind, making him sit up. The barrier didn’t have to be opaque. It just had to distort vision enough so that placing an anchor on the other side was impossible.

  The large door opening interrupted his thoughts.

  Two people entered, replacements, from the looks of them, for his watchers. One moved to the right while the other went left. Taking up their positions, they stared at Aeron. The previous watchmen then left, and the door closed behind them. The heavy sound it made caused his heart to sink a little lower in his chest.

  I can’t wait to see Willem again, to hear his voice.

  It is terrible that they keep you locked in that room, alone. At least I have company.

  People still come to see you? What am I asking, of course they do.

  I feel comforted, in a way, by how little hatred I have sensed in most of them.

  “Look at the ceiling.”

  Aeron glanced up before he thought to wonder who could be speaking in the quiet voice.

  “Don’t look at me suddenly.”

  As casually as he could, Aeron looked around the room and then at the two watchers. They were supposed to be deaf and mute, weren’t they?

  The left one, lips barely moving, spoke again. “Your dragon will be executed tomorrow night.”

  Sure that the other guard had eyes on him, too, Aeron struggled to keep his face emotionless. It was not easy.

  What happened?

  “Our mutual friend thought you should know, so that you might ready your plans sooner.”

  They’ve moved up your execution to tomorrow night! Why would they do that?

  It does not matter. When Balam and Willem return, I will tell them.

  Eyes still on Aeron, the man’s face remained impassive, expressionless. Aeron looked away. Was he one of Capu Cirtis’s people, or was he one of those new friends he’d talked about? Whatever the case, the watcher did not speak again.

  The hours passed excruciatingly slowly, with Aeron unable to stop thinking about the moved up execution. Their plan should work, but even so, the thought of someone killing Anaya chilled him to the core. What if something went wrong? His plan had been based on what Capu Cirtis had told him about past executions. What if the Order changed how the execution proceeded? They moved up the night, after all, who’s to say they wouldn’t change anything else?

  Aeron rolled on his side, toward the wall. He wasn’t one for prayers, but he sent a silent one out anyway.

  Ulthis, if you’re really out there, help me save your other creations. Or at the very least, help me save Anaya. Please.

  They are here.

  Thank the gods! Tell Willem I miss him.

  He misses you, too.

  Have you told them of the change to tomorrow night?

  I did. Willem says not to worry, they are ready.

  Aeron hoped so. Still, as he waited for sleep to take him later that night, he went over the plan again, looking for ways to adjust it should something change.

  + + + + +

  Takatin stared at the ceiling, light sheet coverin
g his chest. It had required a great deal of work, one didn’t change something like that easily, but tomorrow night, one part of his plan would be complete. Then he could turn his attention to figuring out what to do about the loss of his birder.

  ‘At its core, the Order is honorable.’

  Takatin frowned as the boy’s words returned to him. They had done so more often than he liked. Why? The core of the Order was rotten, not honorable. The blight of the First Principle was spreading through the organization like . . . like the poison from the sting of a sand wasp.

  The dreams from the other night had been unusual and strange. The first two had almost been like reliving those events, so detailed had they been, while the last one . . .

  He shook his head. At any rate, the Order needed the same treatment as anyone stung by the slow to anger desert creature.

  He turned on his side.

  Still, something nagged at him. Some vague feeling of unease. It was ridiculous. His hands were clean. He’d done nothing but suggest, point things out. What others did was not in his control. If they took measures more drastic than he would have, that was their doing. He couldn’t be blamed for that.

  Turning on his back to face the ceiling again, he let out a breath.

  Cirtis was of a mind with the dragon boy. But the man had been trying for decades to fix the Order. Was that not enough time to prove the inadequacy of his methods? The Laminae had tried too, nearly a century ago. Tried with measures of a level unmatched even by anything National Transportation had done. Tried and failed. They’d had their turns.

  Takatin rolled on his other side.

  Years ago, he’d started by testing the waters, talking with people, listening. He spent a great deal of time going over the reports from the Observers. He found a few core people and began laying the groundwork for future efforts. Then National Transportation had come, and it became clear: It was his turn, now.

  He rolled onto his back.

  Wasn’t it?

  Takatin frowned. Damn the boy and his words!

  Chapter 23

  Minday, Secundy 19, 1875.

  Early Morning

  “You are sure your people are ready?” Cirtis stared at the silverlocks. A slight dawn breeze momentarily bent a few of the upward stalks.

  “They were ready yesterday, so the change to tonight will not be an issue. Incidentally, I was unable to find a single previous instance where an execution was moved up as it was for Anaya.”

  Cirtis glanced at Isandath. All contact with the Laminae was now through the master archivist. Looking back at the garden plot, Cirtis said, “I suspect some of the old guard, as you call them, began to worry at the reaction people have had to the dragon.”

  “Capturing her, bringing her here, was perhaps the worst thing that they could have done.”

  “But it has been a boon for us.”

  “Indeed. She’s as magnificent as Nayra. No, I take that back. She’s even more so, because of her self-assured confidence.”

  “Nayra?”

  Isandath didn’t reply immediately. When he finally did, his voice was quiet. “The Order was not as successful in eliminating dragons as it supposed. There are a number that remain, in hiding.”

  Cirtis slumped a bit. It was as if a weight had been lifted from his shoulders that he no longer need support. “That is incredibly good to hear. I had feared—” He sat taller and took a breath. “Good. Perhaps redemption may one day be possible for us.”

  “Just remember that you cannot yet be thought to be allied with the Dragon Craft Guild. Aeron’s plan is a good one. Let the rest of us do what needs be done from the shadows while you continue as you have. Your time will come.”

  “The blades provided you with the updated patrol routes for this evening?”

  Isandath nodded. “They did. I will go to Pashi and deliver it to one of our friends this afternoon.”

  “How will they know to meet you there? Don’t they normally contact you at night?”

  “Anaya will tell them. Some friends arrived this morning in order to keep communications open in case Takatin or the umeri decide to change something else.”

  “Prudent,” Cirtis said. “But I still do not understand how they speak to each other.”

  “If you are lucky, perhaps one day you will.”

  He glanced at Isandath. The man’s lips curved in a small smile while he stared straight ahead. Cirtis looked again at the silverlocks. “Ulthis willing.”

  + + + + +

  Due to the near panic some of the umeri evinced yesterday, and their strident request to change the execution to an earlier day, Takatin set aside some time after lunch to see what exactly they were so worried about. He stood in the shade in one of the covered walkways around Daelon’s Plaza. Leaning on a pillar with his arms crossed, he stared at the dragon.

  To his surprise, it just lay there, chained but unconcerned, occasionally glancing at someone nearby, a pesan, usually. It exuded calm and patience. The seemingly serene creature was the most un-dragonly dragon he’d ever heard tell of. And perhaps because of that, most of the faces of those standing about, watching it from a distance, showed no trace of fear, or hatred, or even dislike. Instead, there was interest and wonder and awe.

  “We should have killed the beast last night, like I suggested.”

  Takatin glanced at Umeron Yiska. He, too, watched the people watching the dragon. The man apparently spent all his time, now, watching the dragon and the crowd’s reactions to it.

  “Killing it last night would have been a wasted opportunity,” Takatin said. “I want as many people as possible to witness the execution. Doing it tonight allowed us to announce the change to the villages.”

  “Even so, the thing worries me. Have you seen the people watching it? They are not disturbed by the beast at all. And no wonder.” He gestured. “Look at it! Why isn’t it frightened by all the people in the plaza staring at it? Why doesn’t it pace? Why doesn’t it look about nervously, or at least whine, or howl, or growl? Instead it . . . chirps . . . and sits there as if deigning to allow us to look upon it.”

  “It does seem to have a noble bearing.” Unsure why he’d chosen those words, Takatin looked side-long at the umeron to gauge his reaction.

  The man merely frowned and made a warding motion at the dragon. “It’s unnatural.”

  “It dies tonight,” Takatin said. “You can take some small measure of comfort from that.”

  “We should have killed it last night,” the umeron insisted.

  Ohs and ahs from the crowd drew Takatin’s attention. The dragon had stood and unfurled its enormous wings, stretching. When it arched its back and extended its forelegs like a cat, the chains running from the shackles to the stone blocks rattled and clinked. The beast then settled its wings upon its back, lay down, chin upon its paws, and stared at a nearby pesan girl.

  With a slight bob of its head, the dragon let out a chirp at her.

  The girl and her friends screamed in delight and started chatting excitedly.

  Surprised to be smiling, Takatin quickly cleared his expression.

  ‘You’re just killing the wrong things.’

  He clenched his jaws. Aeron and his damn words. Spinning on his heel, Takatin walked away.

  + + + + +

  Willem stood when Polandra entered the cave. “What did he say?”

  She glanced at him while unrolling a piece of parchment. “It will happen at sunset. It’s tradition, apparently, and that one, at least, they are following.”

  Willem frowned and looked at what she’d brought. “That the new routes?” The parchment was covered with lines and notes: a hand-drawn map.

  “Yeah.” Polandra studied the notations. “So, how did they change the routes to free another hand for the ceremony?” She looked it over a bit and then grunted. “Damn.”

  “What?”

  “Even as shorthanded as they are for patrols, they’re being extra cautious.” She tapped the map. “See this? There will
be a patrol passing nearby during the start of the execution. It seems a little too coincidental.” Her lips twisted into a grimace.

  Did something happen?

  Not really. I just found out that there’ll be a lot of manisi near them tonight. A flicker of worry came through the link. Would you like to come to the caves?

  I must stay here at the Caer for now, so that we can let everyone know what happens there.

  You’re worried, though.

  I am. But everyone comes to visit me and comforts me. I am glad that we have friends like these.

  Me too.

  He stared at Polandra. After a moment, he said, “I’m sorry.”

  “Hmm?” She looked up from the map. “For what?”

  “I—” He cleared his throat. “I haven’t always thought kindly of you. I was jealous of the trips you and Aeron took together. But that was just my insecurity. You’ve been nothing but a friend, and I am sorry that I haven’t always been the same to you, at least in thought.”

  Polandra opened her mouth, blinked, and then closed it. She stood up and smiled. “I accept your apology, though none was needed. Friends forgive each other for misunderstandings.”

  Willem smiled. “That’s true.”

  She turned back to the map. “I mean, it’s not as if I’d kissed him or anything . . .”

  His eyes grew large, then he burst out laughing. “Liara told you?”

  Chuckling, she nodded. “Yeah.”

  “Gods. I hope she didn’t tell everyone.”

  “Oh, no. She’s only told me.”

  Willem twisted his lips in a grimace. “She can be pretty forward.”

  Polandra’s lips curved in a smile. “That she can.”

  “But you know what? She has a good heart.”

  Polandra glanced at him.

  “That’s important.” He leaned over the map and tried to make out what the symbols meant.

  “Good frosting and good cake.”

  Willem looked at her, wondering what she meant, but she was staring at the map. Hadn’t she said something about cake and frosting before?

  “Luckily,” she said, “the changes to the routes will make it even easier for us to get in position. We’ll have to keep an eye on that patrol, though. I wouldn’t put it past Takatin to have the route be a feint, and instead, they head in to Daelon’s Plaza. The courtyard sits right off the concourse from the entrance. Maybe Fillion can watch them.”