A Storm in the Desert: Dragonlinked Chronicles Voume 3 (57 page)

BOOK: A Storm in the Desert: Dragonlinked Chronicles Voume 3
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Fillion stood. “See you guys at lessons. I’ve got an errand to run.”

Coatl, is Millinith in her office?

She is.

Perfect.

Fillion thought about how best to get a number of candidates quickly. From what they understood, it took almost a month for eggs to hatch. That should give them time to get the accepted some initial training beforehand. As long as there were accepted
to
train, and soon.

He glanced in the dragon door as he passed Aeron and Willem’s stable. They were saddling Anaya. Balam sat on his haunches, watching. Fillion lifted a hand in hello and continued on.

The office door was open, so he walked in. Surprisingly, Master Doronal was there too. They were eating lunch together? Fillion smiled.

“Guildmaster,” he said, “do you have a moment?”

They looked up from their meal.

“Did you have a question about this afternoon’s lesson?” she asked.

“No.” Fillion shook his head. “We need more candidates.”

She sighed.

Master Doronal chuckled. “It seems I’m not the only one of that opinion.”

“I know we need more candidates,” she said. “I just haven’t had time to think about where to put them. The living quarters aren’t complete yet.”

“They don’t need to be put anywhere,” Fillion said. “That is, if we limit initial applications to people from the Caer. They’re already living somewhere. They would just stay there until they could be moved into the Guildhall.”

She toyed with a lock of hair. “Hmm. That’s true. And if a few from the Farm were accepted, we could place them in the dorms or the Housing Hall for the time being.”

“All we’ll need to work out,” Master Doronal said, “is when and where to hold the classes for the new bunch.”

“And how.” Guildmaster Millinith frowned. “I’m stretched thin as it is. Who will teach them?”

“The instructors you hired.” Master Doronal stabbed a chunk of what looked like roasted potato with a fork. “They’re well enough along to start training accepted while they continue with their own lessons.”  He ate the root vegetable. “It’s just a matter of scheduling.”

“Renata’s great with that kind of thing,” Fillion pointed out.

“Yes,” Guildmaster Millinith said, “she is. I’ll pull her aside after today’s lessons. Cheddar, too. We’ll need to have some specific applications printed up as well as copies of the recently revised lesson plans to give the instructors.”

“We’ll need to ask the dragons for assistance with selecting applicants who are candidates,” Master Doronal said. “Applicants for positions in the guild other than dragonlinked are being handled differently, are they not?”

Guildmaster Millinith nodded. “That’s correct. These applications will only be for dragonlinked.”

“That shouldn’t be an issue,” Fillion said. “Any of the dragons who are available can do that. Just bring out the applicants and have a dragon look them over.”

“What do we tell those that a dragon says are not candidates?”

“It sounded like that was fairly rare,” Master Doronal said, “and usually because the person is magic blind or, ah, dragon deaf?”

“Dragon deaf.” The Guildmaster raised her brows. “I suppose that’s as good a name as any. Well, in those instances, the explanation to the applicant would be easy, I suppose.”

Fillion twisted his lips. “And in other instances?”

Master Doronal stared at the Guildmaster. “We’ll think of something.”

 

Chapter 25
Leday, Secundy 23, 1875.
Late Morning

A bench had been dragged into Ikan’s den for the auditors. They sat upon it, eyes on the big dragon, while they asked their questions. Polandra, leaning on the wall next to them, watched the proceedings and wondered what exactly it was they were trying to learn.

“Last question in this line of inquiry,” Adept Oran said. “What is six times four? Six groups of four items?”

Twenty-four.
Ikan’s rumble indicated he was beginning to tire of this questioning angle. Chin on his forepaws, he stared at the two on the bench.

“Why are you asking him math questions,” Polandra asked. “I thought you were trying to determine if he’s a person, if he is ‘sentient,’ as you named it.”

“We talked about it,” Adept Oran said, glancing at the other auditor, “and we feel we should be as thorough as we can with our questions for him.”

“There have been a number of claims made over the years,” Adept Komako said, “regarding animals that were ‘smart.’ They could count, or respond to questions, or perform tasks seemingly impossible for a mere animal.”

The auditors looked at each other.

“We need to be sure,” Adept Oran said, “that Ikan has not been coached.” He turned to Polandra. “And part of that is to ask you to leave us. We will begin the next part of the session with you not present.”

“If you’ll recall the explanation of how dragon communication works,” Polandra said, “it matters not whether I am present. We can still speak to each other. Me not being physically here doesn’t change anything.”

“What if you went to Delcimaar?” Adept Komako asked. “Or anywhere far away. What is the maximum range of your communication with Ikan?”

“There is none,” Polandra said. “At least not that we’ve found. Not for bond-mates. There is a limit for dragon to human communication, but the enchantment that links bond-mates, the Bond, uses ether focus.” She glanced at Adept Oran. “We believe the link pierces the ether itself.”

“And as such,” he said, “distance means nothing to bond-mates.” He sighed. “I see.”

Adept Komako clasped her hands in her lap. “We can never be certain that you are not helping him answer.” She glanced at Ikan. “What of unbonded dragons? What is the range of their communications with people?”

“With humans?” Polandra said. “Five, maybe ten miles? Dragons can speak to one another over longer distances—perhaps double that—but a few miles seems to be about the limit for dragon to human.”

“Hmm.” Adept Oran rubbed his chin. “So, if we could interview an unbonded dragon somewhere far enough away from humans and bonded dragons, we could be reasonably sure we were getting true answers.”

“That could be arranged,” Polandra allowed, “but we’d need to find an unbonded dragon willing to do so. They are very anxious creatures, wild dragons.”

Adept Komako raised her brows. “Oh?”

“Absolutely.” Polandra nodded. “That’s why they seem so uncommon. They keep to themselves, far away from any settlements. Dragons are skittish. At least until they’re bonded.”

“Why is that?” Adept Komako opened her notebook.

Polandra shrugged. “We think—”

Dragons are not complete until they are bonded.

Adept Komako turned to Ikan. “Could you explain that statement, please?”

He blinked large amber eyes at her.
We were . . . made to be bonded, are supposed to be. Our bond-mate completes us. Unfortunately, we do not fully understand that until we are bonded. And yet, there is a . . . feeling of incompleteness, a feeling of not being whole that weighs on you your entire life. It has had an effect on us and our people.

“That’s a good explanation about the plight of dragons,” Liara said.

Polandra turned and smiled. “Liara.”

The raven-haired girl walked in the dragon door. “I was wondering how the interview was going.”

“Your people.” Adept Oran stared at the big dragon. “Hmm.”

“It’s going well enough,” Polandra said. “Though the auditors have a concern about our being able to speak to our dragons directly.” An idea occurred to her. She turned to Adept Komako. “There is a dragon House in the South, House Peku. It is where Ikan is from and is hundreds of miles from anyone. If you’d like, I could take you two to speak with his mother. All the dragons there are unbonded.”

Adept Komako nodded. “That would suit our needs. Assuming you left us there and retreated beyond dragon and human communication range.”

Polandra tugged on her lip. “How about this. I take you both and leave one of you to speak with Nayra. I then retreat to our caves with the other so they can verify that I was not near. We then swap you two out and repeat. Would that suit?”

The auditors glanced at each other.

Adept Oran shrugged. “That would satisfy me. You?”

“Yes.” Adept Komako turned to Polandra. “When can we go?”

“You should take them this evening after lessons,” Liara said, “when you ask Isandath how Capu Cirtis’s efforts are going.”

“Good idea,” Polandra said, turning back to the auditors. “We can’t really do anything about your pale complexions, but we can at least get you robes. Tell me, have either of you ever had goat stew?”

+ + + + +

That is a lot of soldiers.

Fillion stared at the ranks below.
It sure is.
A hasty estimate put them at sixty or seventy.

“Set down over there.” Master Gella pointed to a relatively clear area near the National Transportation station.

He nodded and directed Coatl to the spot. When he’d picked her up in Delcimaar, she’d explained that her people had taken over the train station and would use it as a staging area for their trip into the flats and to the camp.

After dismounting, Master Gella made for the building. Fillion hopped off and took in the activity around the place. Surprisingly, only a few stopped and stared at the large dragon suddenly in their midst.

Along with the soldiers, there were sorcerers here, too, it seemed. At least that’s what he assumed they were. They had that look about them. Most were slim, some even skinny, and didn’t appear physically dangerous. Then you saw their eyes. No fear. The dozen or so magic users would definitely be a help at the camp.

Eight wagons stood in front of the building, loaded with supplies. Barrels of water, crates of what he guessed was food, maybe weapons, along with tents and sleeping equipment. Provisions for a long stay at the flats. There was another wagon, too, smaller, and loaded with very different chests and items. Fillion had no idea what those were for.

He took the four steps in two strides. As he approached the office, he heard the sound of horses from the other side of the building—snorting, pawing the ground, and whinnying. It seemed like there were a lot of them.

“We cannot wait much longer.” Inside, Master Gella was talking to a captain, at least by the looks of his leather and chain armor. “The longer it takes us to get there, the more chance there is that we get spotted and word reaches the camp before us.”

“I understand, ma’am. We should be ready to leave shortly.”

“Good. I’ll select a horse while we wait.” She turned and headed out of the office.

Master Gella walked among the horses, checking them over. Some horses, those that belonged to the officers or possibly the sorcerers, were tied to posts along the building. The rest of the horses were tied here along one of the many rope picket lines.

Fillion followed behind her. “Did they finish what they were working on in Stronghold?”

“Yes, everything is ready there. As soon as we take care of the mine, Tiberius will be arrested as well as several of the company’s managers. National Transportation’s ultimate fate could go either way. Many knew of the mining and selling of the Korovite.”

“I see.” Fillion glanced at everyone walking around the station. They seemed to be getting ready to head out. “I’m guessing all these people rode a National Transportation train from Stronghold? How many are they?”

Master Gella, checking over a nice-looking mare, said, “There’s almost a hundred. And about half of them are from Stronghold. The rest came from Delcimaar.”

“Delcimaar? How’d they get here?”

“Continental Transportation Company was kind enough to get them most of the way via train. I met with the company the day after you returned me to Delcimaar.”

“CTC?” Fillion chuckled. “I bet it cost you a few shiny marks for that service.”

“There was no charge.”

Fillion stared at her. “Lord Eldin did it for free? I’m surprised he’d do something like that without getting anything in return.”

She glanced at him. “Well, in our meeting, he did mention wanting to acquire National Transportation’s assets should they be forced into dissolution.”

And there it was. Fillion shook his head. “Just as I thought. That would give him rail lines everywhere on the continent.”

Her lips curved in a small smile, and she resumed her inspection of the horse. “You’ve met Lord Eldin, then.”

“Yeah. I’m dating his son, actually.”

Master Gella turned back to him. “Gregor is Lord Eldin’s son?”

Fillion’s brows rose. She was even more observant than he had given her credit for. “Yes.”

She chuckled. “Small world.”

He nodded. “It seems so.”

“This one should be fine.” Master Gella led the mare out of the picket lines. “She seems solid and steady.”

“How long do you think it will take you to get to the camp?”

“Four days. Maybe five. The wagons and especially this many people will keep us from going too much faster.”

“It sounded like you were in a hurry. What if you run across someone from National Transportation in that time?”

“I am in a hurry, but we can only go as fast as we can. Besides, we’re going to take a detour.”

“Oh?”

“Do you recall the salt farm?”

“Yeah.”

“We’re going to take that wagon trail leading deeper into the flats, to that salt farm. If anyone runs across our tracks, hopefully they’ll think the salt farmers left them. Once we reach the farm, we’ll then head south from there. Taking a different route to the camp should keep us from meeting anyone until we’re nearly there.”

Several people began untying horses and leading them away. It looked like it was time.

“Master Gella?” The captain stood on the platform.

“Yes? Are we ready?”

“Just about, ma’am. We’re hitching the horses to the wagons now.”

“Good.” She turned to Fillion. “Thank you for the lift. I should be done at the mine in about a week. After that, I’ll see what I can do to help the guild. In the meantime, I’ll let the Guildmaster know if I need anything more.”

“Alright.”

Master Gella began saddling the mare. Fillion watched her for a moment, then made his way back to Coatl.

What is wrong?

Fillion twisted his lips in a scowl.
With this case coming to a close, there won’t be much investigating anymore. I already miss it, I guess.

Once she has something else to check into, I am sure she will want our help.

Do you think?

Of course. We make a good team. Besides, she thinks I am magnificent.

Fillion chuckled.
You are so full of yourself.

Coatl’s grunting laugh drew a few stares.
Come. If we get back soon, there may be more applicants I can help with. It is fun to see which are candidates.

Fillion climbed into the saddle.
You really like doing that, don’t you?

My memories are full of fear—fear of humans, fear of other dragons, fear of anything from outside the House. They were afraid of so many things. Not being complete is a terrible thing. Finding humans who are candidates and who want to bond, are excited to bond, will help more dragons be complete. It is is a good thing.

Fillion raised his brows.
That was kind of poetic.
He leaned down and stroked his bond-mate’s neck.
Are you feeling okay?

Coatl laughed and launched them into the sky.

+ + + + +

“Can you take this?” Polandra held out the end of the measure tape.

Adept Komako blinked, then grabbed the tip of the thin strip.

“Now, hold it right here.” Polandra tapped the spot in the middle of Ikan’s shoulders.

The Animal Craft auditor reached up and held down the tape on Ikan’s back.

“Perfect.” Polandra began unrolling. This measure tape was longer than the ones Liara and Gregor used on their younger dragons. It had to be.

Ikan, wings spread and crouched a little so the short auditor could reach his back, watched Polandra walk along, trailing unwound tape.

“Can I—” Adept Oran lifted a finger. “Can I help?”

Polandra suppressed a smile. The young man was nervous about flying, but he was nevertheless very interested in dragons. “Thank you, that would be perfect. It will allow me to write down the measurements more easily.”

BOOK: A Storm in the Desert: Dragonlinked Chronicles Voume 3
11.98Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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