A Storm in the Desert: Dragonlinked Chronicles Voume 3

by Adolfo Garza Jr.

  “How’d you get that, anyway?” Fillion nodded to the gauze taped to her face.

  “You should have seen her!” Polandra’s eyes lit up. “She took on two manisi by herself.”

  “What?” Aeron turned to Liara. “Why?”

  She smiled and chuckled. “I was dealing with a manis who’d come for me when I saw one go for Mia.” She shrugged. “I had no choice.” She glanced at Polandra, a sparkle in her eyes. “I got help soon enough, though, from her and Ikan.”

  “We were lucky,” Willem said.

  “Ha!” Fillion smiled. “I’d say the manisi were lucky that we were fighting only to incapacitate, not to kill.”

  “Hmm,” Willem said. “Good point. Even so, and not to belittle your arm,” he nodded to Gregor, “we sustained relatively few injuries, and minor ones at that.” He looked at Anaya. “Especially considering that someone, once again, tried to kill Anaya.”

  The tawny dragon rumbled.

  “Where is Yiska, anyway?” Liara looked around the plaza.

  “I think I heard they were tossing him in a cell.” Renata frowned. “A punishment that seems a little soft.”

  Anaya chirped. He was scared.

  Aeron turned to her. “So? And you never did explain why you talked to him.”

  Communication aids understanding. He understands dragons now. He knows that we are people.

  Aeron grunted.

  He didn’t seem mollified and Fillion really couldn’t blame him. The man had come after Anaya, weapon drawn. “Where’s that sword, anyway?” Fillion said. “Anaya, do you know what happened to it?”

  It was struck by the lightning. When I could see again, it was gone.

  “Is that what the lightning struck?” Fillion raised his brows. “No wonder Yiska was knocked out. He was holding it.”

  “I think I found it.” Journeyman Zaine stood a few feet away, bent over, hands on knees, staring at the floor of the plaza. No, he was looking at the two paving stones where the lightning had entered the ground.

  Aeron stood. “I don’t see the sword.”

  “I don’t see it either.” Fillion walked over and looked around. His gaze kept being drawn back to the shiny circles. The two paving stones each had a dark circle close to their centers where the molten stone had cooled, leaving a concave, glassy surface.

  “That’s because it isn’t a sword anymore.” Zaine held something up. Pommel, grip and cross-guard were all that remained of the executioner’s weapon. The sorcerer crouched and ran his finger along the deep bevels around the two adjoining pavers. “The blade melted and collected in these grooves.”

  Fillion leaned over. “There is metal in there, scorched little beads and blobs of it.”

  Journeyman Zaine stood and handed Aeron the remnants of the sword. “Souvenir?”

  Aeron took it and turned it over in his hand. He gripped it, stared at the flagstones a moment, then looked up to the sky and grunted.

  “Dragonlinked,” Guildmaster Millinith was walking over. “It’s time to go. Special Investigator Gella will start inquiries today concerning the links within the Order to National Transportation.”

  “What about our talks?” Gregor struggled to stand.

  “They’re over, for now,” Guildmaster Millinith said.

  Fillion ran over and helped him up. “Over?”

  “We’ll send someone down here now and then to check on the investigation’s progress,” she said. “When it’s concluded, we can decide when talks can begin again.”

  “I guess Master Gella decided to help us stop Nesch Takatin’s plan?” Gazing at the pavilion, Polandra stood.

  “Actually,” Renata said, “with everything that happened today, I think he’s already decided that his plan was a bad idea.”

  “Help?” Brows drawn together, Guildmaster Millinith glanced at the pavilion. “Yes, I suppose she is.”

  It didn’t sound like she believed it. Fillion frowned. “Master Gella is helping us, right? She said she would.”

  The Guildmaster turned to him. “We should let her work without distraction. Let’s take our guests back to Delcimaar and head home.”

  The most difficult part of the trip back was getting Gregor into the saddle as painlessly as possible. Even though they’d made a makeshift sling for him, every bump and jostle still made him grimace. He suffered through it all with quiet composure.

  It made Fillion very proud. Still, he had to exert a great deal of self-restraint not to fuss over the healer adept.

  Your empathy does you credit, but let him have his dignity.

  I know, leather bag, I know.

  At the Magic Craft Guildhall, he helped Journeyman Zaine unstrap and dismount.

  Zaine handed the riding belt to Fillion. “Thank you for the most gigantic time of my life.” With an enormous smile he turned to Coatl. “And you, too, of course. Thank you.”

  Coatl chirped at him.

  Still smiling, the journeyman ran his eyes over the mahogany dragon, murmured, “Golden,” then walked to the fountain.

  The other sorcerer, Fillion never got her name, walked over and stood beside Zaine. They waited there for Master Enora.

  Fillion mounted back up. “When we get home, I’ll make you some hot tea with willow bark extract.”

  Jaws clenched, Gregor only nodded.

  “I want to thank you all for assisting us today,” Guildmaster Millinith said, “I’m sorry that the talks devolved into a small battle, but I’m glad you were there to help. The guild is in your debt.”

  “Don’t mention it,” Journeyman Zaine said.

  “It was my pleasure.” The girl dimpled and bowed her head.

  “Even so,” the Guildmaster said, “should you decide you enjoy the company of dragons, I will gladly accept your applications and review them very favorably.” She bowed to the two sorcerers and walked over to Master Enora.

  Journeyman Zaine, brows raised and mouth open in an ‘o,’ turned to Fillion. He then shut his mouth and ran his gaze over Coatl again, a considering look in his eyes.

  Fillion was certain there would be another applicant at some point in the future.

  Guildmaster Millinith spoke with Master Enora for a few minutes before returning to Anaya. After mounting, she waved at the three sorcerers, placed her hand on Aeron’s shoulder, and leaned forward to tell him something.

  A portal appeared in the sky.

  Fillion patted Coatl on the neck. Try to be as smooth as you can. Gregor’s arm is really starting to bother him.

  I will. He is thick with pain.

  Thanks, love.

  Coatl rumbled, then lifted them into the sky, following Anaya into the gateway.

  Gregor grunted when they landed in the courtyard. Coatl, bless his heart, put down right outside the door to their rooms. Kisa landed and padded over, chirping encouragement up at Gregor.

  “Just do the straps on your right side,” Fillion said as he quickly undid his own. He spun in the saddle and started on the Gregor’s other straps. “I’ll get these.”

  Gregor didn’t protest. He just undid the two straps and took a deep breath, staring at the ground.

  Fillion hopped off and said, “I could levita—”

  “Don’t you dare.”

  His dignity, Fillion.

  I know!

  Coatl’s rumbling laugh was irritating.

  Fillion sighed. “I’m just trying to help.”

  “I know you are.” Gregor looked at the ground again. “You could help me dismount, though, so I don’t drop down too hard. On the right side, so I can hold on with my good arm.”

  Fillion nodded and moved below him.

  Gregor placed his foot in the stirrup, and gripping the saddle handhold with his right hand, turned and started lowering himself.

  When he got low enough, Fillion grabbed his waist. “Alright, I have you.”

  Gregor removed his foot from the stirrup, and Fillion eased him down.

  Feet on the ground, Gregor let out a b
reath. “That went better than I expected.” He put his good arm over Fillion’s shoulders. “Thanks.”

  As they turned to walk inside, Fillion caught sight of Guildmaster Millinith talking to Adept Liflin and the two auditors while they made their way into the investigation office.

  “We’ll actually be publishing a joint paper on their sentience,” Adept Komako said, glancing at Adept Oran.

  The young man nodded.

  “You’ll have the guild’s full support with that,” Guildmaster Millinith said. “Let us know if there’s—”

  Fillion stared at the closed office door. “The Guildmaster didn’t sound convinced that Master Gella would be helping. Why do think that is?”

  “The talks were going well,” Gregor said. “Maybe she’s disappointed they won’t continue for a while. Other than that, I’m not sure what it could be. Then again, I can’t exactly think very well right now.”

  Once inside, Gregor sat on the sofa, and Kisa hopped up to his left, careful of his arm. She made a sympathetic sound and lay her head on his lap. He stroked her neck.

  “It does, sweetie,” Gregor murmured, “but the tea will help.”

  Damn! He’d forgotten about the tea. “I’ll get that ready.” Fillion hurried to the counter and started some water to heat.

  As he prepared the hot drink, the strange feeling he’d gotten from Guildmaster Millinith kept bothering him. Why would she think that Master Gella wouldn’t help? Gella specifically told him that she wanted to help, that she would. He was sure that she’d be able to prove that Nesch Takatin was the one who did all the bad stuff and not the Corpus Order as a whole.

  Tea finished, Fillion put in two drops of willow bark extract. He glanced at Gregor and saw him grimace in pain. Hmm, perhaps one drop more.

  Handing over the mug, he said, “I’m going to talk to the Guildmaster later and ask her to remove you from duties and chores for a few days. Your arm needs time to mend a bit before you stress it.”

  Gregor nodded and took a sip. “Alright. I guess I can use the time to practice my hand-stands.” He chuckled, then grimaced and groaned.

  Fillion sighed. “Don’t move your arm, you goof.” He reached down, scratched Kisa under her chin, and said, “You’re going to have to keep an eye on him so he doesn’t do anything silly while his arm heals.”

  Kisa chirped then looked up at Gregor. She barked as if giving an order.

  Gregor smiled. “I know, I know. I’ll take it easy. I wouldn’t want the two of you to get mad at me.” His eyes grew large and he whispered, “Shit.”

  “What?” Fillion looked at Gregor’s arm, but could see nothing wrong.

  “My mom’s going to be so pissed that I broke an arm.”

  Fillion had completely forgotten about Gregor’s family coming to visit. “She’ll be upset that it happened, yes, and why wouldn’t she? She’s your mother. She loves you. But once she realizes that it could have been much worse,” Fillion sat to his right, “that you could have been killed, she’ll be very happy that a broken arm is all that happened to you.”

  Gregor looked at him. “She’ll be very happy?”

  Fillion twisted his lips and shrugged. “Anyone who loves you would be.”

  Gregor smiled. “I have a warm dragon in my lap, a delicious cup of tea, and you. Even with this broken arm, I’m the luckiest guy in the world.”

  Fillion curved his lips in a small smile. No, he thought, we’re the luckiest guys in the world. He leaned against Gregor.

  Kisa’s happy rumble was echoed by Coatl. A softer, quieter purr joined in when Snow hopped on the couch and curled up in Fillion’s lap.

  Petting the cat, he looked up at Gregor. “We’re going to have to get you out of that jacket at some point, you know. Even cutting the sleeve off you, it’s going to hurt.”

  “Hush. You’re ruining the moment.”

  Fillion chuckled and lay back against him.

  Chapter 28

  Leday, Tershy 11, 1875.

  Late Morning

  “Come along, now,” Polandra said, “keep moving. You’ve all seen the weight scale before.”

  “After all,” Liara said, “we’ve got more eggs to visit.”

  With little breaths of excitement the stragglers hurried along the dragon corridor to the clutching room.

  Polandra smiled. Liara always knew how to get candidates to do something.

  “You seem happier.” Liara walked with her as they took up the rear, behind the recently accepted and the other dragonlinked who’d ferried the hopefuls over from visiting Nenet’s eggs.

  Polandra took a breath and let it out. “With the conclusion of the investigation this afternoon, my dream will finally happen.”

  Liara looked at her. “What do you mean?”

  “Master Gella will have learned what we all know, that the Order did not do any of the things Nesch Takatin put in motion. With that taken care of, our talks with the Order can then resume, and, based on how well they were going, dragons will soon be able to occupy the caves again.”

  Liara smiled. “I see.”

  All the candidates stood in a loose semi-circle around Anaya’s two eggs. The proud mother sat on her haunches several feet behind her children.

  “A reminder,” Aeron said. He stood with Willem and the other dragonlinked at the edge of the sand. “You are allowed to touch the eggs, but be gentle.” He glanced at Balam, who sat next to Anaya. “Mommy and daddy are watching.”

  Willem chuckled. “As are we all.”

  Polandra walked over to the—what did you call the human bond-mates in their relation to their dragon’s children? Human parents? Bond-parents? Hmm. She liked that. Bond-parents. Whatever it turned out to be, Polandra walked over to Aeron and Willem.

  She turned to the hopefuls. “The baby dragons are listening, too.”

  Murmuring came from the candidates.

  Liara chuckled. “That’s got them thinking.”

  “Ten pale says Sharrah is the first to approach the eggs again.”

  Polandra glanced at Aeron. “No thanks. I’ll not take that wager.”

  “Aw, come on, not even five pale?”

  “Why would I throw money away on a foregone conclusion? Besides, I can’t waste any right now.”

  He chuckled. “You saving up for the spring trade fair, too?”

  “Renata did mention the trade fair coming up, yes.” Polandra glanced at the southern girl and smiled before returning her gaze to the candidates.

  Renata had also mentioned the bathing suits. They sounded much more . . . intriguing than the shirts and long shorts typical of swimwear. Polandra was keenly interested in seeing what kind would be available at the fair, and wanted to be sure she had enough money on hand to buy at least one set along with other clothing and effects. Though the Caer had provided her with many things, she wanted for a few items.

  Sharrah was indeed the first to approach the eggs, though Korrie—she insisted her fellow dragonlinked not call her Lady Korrie—was close on her heels. Cheddar and Terry were next. Then the rest hurried over.

  Terry, Polandra was interested to note, rested the side of his head against one of the eggs. He seemed to be listening for something. Lips moving, he also appeared to be whispering. Whether to himself or the dragon inside, she had no idea. The others spent time stroking each egg, talking amongst themselves and to Anaya, or sitting and staring at one or the other of the two eggs—whichever was their favorite.

  They are all very excited.

  Polandra glanced at Ikan. Are any of them at all afraid?

  None.

  She smiled. Well, they aren’t contemplating bonding with a full-grown dragon as I was. They weren’t brought up to fear dragons, either.

  He turned to her, eyes sparkling in the illumination from the large lightglobes about the room. Yet despite the fear I felt wriggling in your heart, you approached me. You were and are brave. That was one of the things that intrigued me about you, drew me to you. Bravery is a diffic
ult thing for dragons before we bond.

  Polandra smiled. You and your sister were brave enough to fly with your mother and meet me. It was close to Bataan-Mok, too.

  Humor and pride came through the link. That is true, I suppose. He blinked. When will we invite her to come meet the candidates? I would like my blood-sister to feel as free and happy as I do.

  Free and happy. A perfect description of how she felt. Perhaps in a week or so when the eggs are ready to hatch?

  He turned to the candidates. That will be good.

  Aeron chuckled. “Anaya is pleased that they’re all so happy and eager.”

  “I really enjoy these ‘hang out with the eggs’ things,” Jessip said. “Though it would have been nicer to have all the eggs here. Why didn’t Nenet lay hers here, too?”

  “She seemed really nervous about the place,” Renata said. “She mentioned that it didn’t smell right, whatever that means.”

  “Well,” Willem said, “I would guess that the caves they normally clutch in have been used that way for centuries. Perhaps the scent of dragons lingers in them and makes those places feel safe?”

  “I suppose.” Renata nodded.

  “That’s true,” Aeron said. “This room was solid stone before it was enchanted.” He glanced at the new tiered seats to the left and right of the doorway. “Everything in here was enchanted from rock. It probably only smells like dusty sand and stone.”

  “Our dragons clutching here should make it feel—and smell—more lived-in,” Polandra said, “then wild dragons might feel more comfortable about laying their eggs here.”

  The moss and fungi will help, too.

  She glanced at Ikan and then to the small beginnings of a sort of cavern garden. “Ikan says the plants will help, too.”

  Everyone looked at the small patch of moss and fungi. It sat at the back of the room, opposite the archway to the rest of the Guildhall.

  “We were able to find those in our own caverns,” Aeron said. “But Nenet said she’d bring some varieties that are not found here. She said she’d have to sneak around and steal them.” He smiled. “It seems that even without the Bond, we can influence dragons to be more brave.”