Dragonlinked

by Adolfo Garza Jr.

  “Sure. He and his little brother liked dragons, he told me. And I know how much I love riding Anaya. So how can I not do that one simple thing for him? It’s nothing for me to give him that.”

  Willem laughed quietly to himself and shook his head.

  “What?” Aeron asked, a half smile on his face.

  “You’re pretty amazing, you know that?”

  Aeron’s heart skipped a beat and he blushed.

  “Instantly?” Lord Baronel was incredulous.

  “Yes, my lord.” Doronal glanced at Canneth, who also was having a hard time believing, despite his and Sharrah’s reports and talking with Aeron after dinner. He turned back to Lord Baronel. “He saved Jessip’s life using it.”

  “Jessip? Isn’t that the boy who attacked Aeron, who I had sent to the Farm?”

  “The same.”

  Lord Baronel nodded, thinking on what he had been told. “They can sense nahual, and they can transport themselves anywhere in practically the blink of an eye.” He sat back in his chair, still trying to digest the incredible news.

  “Anywhere that they have been to before,” Doronal corrected. “We tried a few experiments just moments ago and found that Aeron cannot anchor a portal somewhere he cannot see in his mind, somewhere he has not been.”

  “Ah. So there is a limitation, of sorts.”

  “One which will be addressed as best we can. I will work out a schedule of trips for them to make in order to familiarize themselves with our region. Once they know the region, they will be able to go anywhere within it, with great alacrity.”

  “Good.” Lord Baronel nodded sharply. “It isn’t exactly in the way I had imagined, but they are turning out to be just what I need, what the Caer needs. Were you able to determine the range of this sense they have?”

  “We have not had a chance to test that,” Doronal replied. “But my guess is the range is just about the distance between Baronel Farm and the dragon stable.”

  Lord Baronel looked questioningly at him.

  “Millinith went to the Farm,” Doronal explained, “and followed the nahual’s tracks back to its den. The den was a little over a mile northeast of the Farm and had apparently been lived in for some time.”

  “And,” Lord Baronel said, following the magic master’s thinking, “as Aeron hadn’t sensed it before the night it moved to attack the Farm, you suspect the den was just beyond the range of their sense.”

  “Exactly, my lord.”

  “The Farm is about ten or eleven miles from the Caer,” Canneth said, in some awe. He looked at Lord Baronel. “They can keep safe an area twenty miles across.”

  “Which will serve the Caer’s needs quite well,” Lord Baronel remarked. “However, what of the other people in the region, in the world?”

  “Ah,” Doronal said. “But you, Canneth and myself have already talked about a solution, in a sense. However, our initial ideas were too limited, too short-sighted. I have something grander in mind.” He began explaining.

  As Doronal spoke, Canneth began smiling and Lord Baronel nodded slowly. “I propose we start on it within the next few weeks,” Doronal finished.

  “Salutary!” Lord Baronel said and pounded his armrest, a large smile on his face.

  Chapter 26

  Leday, Secundy 11, 1874

  Late Morning

  Master Canneth had them practicing Anaya’s fire-breathing every morning. As far as they could determine, it seemed like it took Anaya about a day to recharge her fuel. Using that ability also made her hungrier sooner, but it wasn’t an issue as long as Aeron took her out hunting more often. Besides, once they learned what they could about the ability, he doubted it would get used anywhere near as much. Not that he minded any excuse to be out flying with her.

  In the days since the attack on the Farm, the story of them saving Jessip had spread throughout the Caer, and people had constantly stopped by the dragon stable to catch a glimpse of him or Anaya. Most had stayed out by the fence, but some had actually come by his study to talk with him. People were calling him a hero.

  “I wish they would stop,” he had complained to Willem one day. “They act like I did it to save Jessip. I didn’t even know he was being attacked, didn’t know anyone was, really. And I didn’t even want to do it! I just knew no one else could. Even so, I was scared, and I hated that I had to go.”

  “That’s just it,” Willem had said, chuckling. “You didn’t have to go. Many people would have come up with some excuse not to. But despite the fact that you hated going, despite your fear, you went anyway. And you’re going to do it again, too, aren’t you?” Willem’s eyes had darkened briefly before he’d smiled and said, “That is a hero, Aeron.”

  Aeron hadn’t been convinced. All the hero-worship made him feel like he was being set apart from everyone else. He wasn’t sure he deserved or wanted the title. Even worse, Willem agreed with them!

  He cares a great deal about you. As do I. You should not feel alone. I will always be with you, be proud of you.

  Aeron sighed, smiled, and lovingly rubbed Anaya’s neck. Leave it to her to remind him to stop feeling sorry for himself! Thank you, dear-heart. And she was right. Aeron had her and he had his friends. If people wanted to call him a hero, so be it.

  He looked around the ledge they sat upon at the quarry. It was a favorite place to go when he wanted to get away from everything. It wasn’t that far from the Caer, at least on dragonback, and would be even closer if they used a portal. But he didn’t use a portal; he enjoyed flying on Anaya too much. Another thing he had liked about this place, at least at the time, was that it had given him somewhere to escape to from people wanting to see Anaya, to see him, to call him a hero. He’d flown to this place a week ago after several days of people constantly stopping by the dragon stable. He still liked coming out here even though it’d been three days since the last person wanting to see ‘the hero’ had intruded. His life was now pretty much back to what it had been before that night just over two weeks ago.

  Jessip had recovered fully. Aeron smiled at the memory of taking him flying on Anaya. He’d been so excited!

  And who would not be?

  Aeron chuckled, lovingly slapped her on the shoulder, and replied, Who wouldn’t be indeed, love.

  Surprisingly, Jessip had requested to be transferred to Animal Craft. Lord Baronel had allowed it, owing to Jessip’s good behavior and, according to Sharrah, a high recommendation from the Farm proctor, Proctor Josephine.

  As for Aeron, he and Millinith were back to investigating attacks in the region. The weather was warming up, and if last year was any indication, there might not be any more snow this season. As it was, snow was melting everywhere and only remained where shadows held most of the day. Finding nahual dens would be near impossible now, with no plain tracks to follow. But they might yet discover more from nahual corpses and witnesses. Aeron was also learning combat spells, offensive and defensive, along with his normal course of spells from the apprentice book.

  In fact, he and Anaya had spent some time here on the ledge this morning memorizing one of those spells. He’d slowly woven an offensive spell over and over in his mind, checking the special spell book he’d been given to verify whether he’d done it correctly. Anaya had critiqued him at various points, noting where he was not weaving it correctly, or berating him when he was losing concentration. Anaya’s ability to absolutely know a spell after he read through it once was both annoying and very handy.

  But it had now been a couple of hours, and it was time to head back. He didn’t want to miss eating lunch or seeing a printing press in action, right after. Cheddar was going to show them around the archive hall. And though Aeron wasn’t quite as interested in it as Willem, he did like to see large machinery in action.

  Aeron sighed and looked around the ledge again. It was rather large and could not be reached easily except, perhaps, by rope from above. They sat near the center of the ledge, on rough rock from which they hadn’t even had to clear snow. A
eron was leaning on Anaya as she lay on the slab. There had been early shadows, but those had disappeared as the sun rose higher in the sky above.

  “This place is amazing,” he said, quietly, the near silence broken by his soft words. “I love the angularity of it, the large solid blocks of stone, exposed. It almost looks like a structure built out from the side of the hills.”

  Anaya rumbled her agreement. And the stone absorbs heat from the sun rather nicely.

  He stood and walked to the end of the ledge, looked out over the quarry. Trees blanketed the heights, some of them covered in bright green points, their early-opening leaf buds on full display. The sun’s brilliant rays, coming from almost directly overhead, picked out the cut stone brightly against the dark trunks of the surrounding trees. Below, a large pool, its depths also dark, was fed by a stream. The still pool emptied across from the ledge, flowing out between two cut faces of stone and feeding another stream.

  “Beautiful,” he said softly.

  “Please don’t touch anything,” Cheddar pleaded as they made their way through the Archive Craft Hall. “I was just able to get permission to show this many people around, so I don’t want anything to happen. I do apologize for how long it’s taken to get you a tour, but we were extremely busy again recently.”

  “That’s perfectly alright,” Sharrah said, as she followed behind him.

  The front part of the hall was given over to many desks where people sat writing. It looked to Aeron like they were making copies of various documents. Behind them, beyond a dividing wall, was a large area with shelves and cabinets and sinks. Various types of pens, brushes, inks, and rolled up parchments and scrolls, all sat upon the shelves and in the glass-fronted cabinets. As they walked past, Aeron spied a boy at one of the sinks washing out several brushes and pens.

  They continued beyond another wall and came to a storage area completely filled with papers of various description. Aeron couldn’t help but be amazed at all the colors that paper came in.

  “Where do you get so much paper from?” Willem asked, astonished.

  “We actually make some of our own next door at the woodworking hall,” Cheddar replied. “But most of it we get from the trader caravans.”

  Beyond that room were several offices, which Cheddar quickly walked them past. Past those, finally, was the printing room. And an enormous room it was.

  Aeron looked around, dumbfounded. The room was controlled chaos. Throughout the room were stacks and piles of various papers, oddments, and mechanical parts. Along the walls, near the two large presses, were enormous stretches of little shelves, full of small boxes, each labeled. From what he could see, the boxes were filled with multiple pieces, each of an individual letter, or glyph, he thought he remembered Cheddar calling them. The number of boxes was so great, Aeron had to assume that perhaps there were different sizes of glyphs, maybe different styles as well, in all those little boxes, as there just weren’t that many letters in the alphabet. To the side of the shelves, beside each big press, sat large desks. And on top of the desks were some kind of odd wooden frames.

  “This is where we build the text that will become the printed item,” Cheddar explained, standing next to one of the desks. He went on to show how each letter to be printed and even each space between the words was selected and placed carefully into the frame. Aeron was astonished to learn that everything was in reverse, like viewing it in a mirror.

  “Once complete and proofread, the forme, which is what we call these frames, is tightened and moved onto the bed in the press. Ink is applied to the metal type and then paper is pressed down onto it. When it is lifted, the text that looked reversed in the forme now appears correct on the paper.”

  “Can we watch a press being used?” Sharrah asked. “Aeron and Willem will want to, I’m sure.”

  Willem nodded enthusiastically.

  “Of course,” Cheddar said, smiling. “Come this way. There’s a small job being run on the second press.” He lead them across the room, wending his way around stacks and piles of items, all of which Aeron was very careful not to touch or brush against.

  “Watch yourself here,” Cheddar said, stepping over a large and very odd device lying on the floor at the end of a clear path between stacks. He held out his hand to help Sharrah over.

  Aeron noticed that even after she had cleared it, they still held hands as Cheddar lead them on. A small stab of jealousy pierced Aeron’s heart. But then he squashed the feeling firmly. Sharrah had every right to find someone special for herself. And, Aeron admitted as he watched Cheddar, he was a very nice person. Good for her.

  Now that he thought about it, Cheddar had been along with their group quite a lot the past several weeks and even months. Cheddar and Sharrah had actually gone off on several projects and errands together, just the two of them. How had Aeron missed their growing relationship? He shook his head ruefully and followed Willem over the odd device.

  Moments later they were at the other press. Watching the archivists work the large device was fascinating. They had obviously been at their craft for a long time, practiced as they were. Aeron watched them intently as they worked the large mechanical beast.

  As it sat on the bed, one archivist would use a large roller to ink the forme while another would carefully align and place a large sheet of paper within a thin frame. When the inking was done, the frame, Cheddar called it a frisket and tympan, would then be angled down, lowered onto the forme. The bed, now including the forme and the frisket and tympan, was then slid into the press. Two archivists would crank down a wooden platen onto the bed, causing the paper in the frisket and tympan to be pressed against the forme, transferring the ink to the paper. The process was then reversed, the parts slid out and separated, and the paper removed, now completely filled with small text.

  “That would have taken forever to do by hand,” Aeron said, amazed. The sheet, at least one foot by two, was almost completely filled with very small, very neat text.

  Cheddar smiled with pride. “Yes it would. And we can make as many exact, just-as-neat copies as we need.”

  “Isn’t it great?” Sharrah asked. “When I think of how cramped my hand gets when I have to make double copies of reports . . .” and she sighed.

  Willem chuckled. “It is fascinating to watch too. Each piece of the press makes such exact and precise movements. The various parts of the press had to be engineered very meticulously. It’s amazing.”

  “The archivists worked very closely with the smiths on their construction,” Cheddar said. “It took some time to get everything right, but they are solid as rock and should last some time.” He looked proudly at the large press. “There are more advanced presses, to be sure, but it’s good that, even though we are way out in the middle of nowhere, we still have some bits of civilization with us.”

  Aeron sighed. “I hate to interrupt, but I have to go.”

  “Oh, already?” Sharrah asked, a woeful look on her face.

  “Yeah. I’m supposed to fly to Shiver Bend. It should only be a couple of hours, but you never know. It’s the second location on a long list.”

  “Only your second?” Cheddar asked.

  “Master Doronal wants me to take it easy at first. We don’t really know yet how often I can open a portal. And I will be using two now: one to get to the last location before flying off to the new location, and another one to return home. But honestly, I haven’t had any problems during practices, so I keep telling him we can cut down the days in between trips. After all, the more locations I know, the more places I can get to with a portal. And I have a feeling Lord Baronel has plans in that regard.” Aeron twisted his mouth and said, “I do not look forward to the two hour flight to the new location, however.”

  “At least you can portal straight back here afterward,” Willem pointed out, with some sympathy.

  “And for that, I am very grateful,” Aeron agreed. He waved and said, “Anyway, have fun. I think I remember the way out.”

  Shiver Ben
d was only an hour and a half flight from the last location he and Anaya had been to, a farmstead. By the time they reached the small village, Aeron was ready for a break. Even with as much flying as he and Anaya were doing now, he still got sore riding nearly two hours straight. He and Anaya scouted the village and surrounding area quickly.

  Not that I don’t enjoy riding with you, love, but my backside complains mightily after that much time in the saddle.

  Anaya made a non-committal rumble as she glided to a landing at the spot Aeron had chosen. He unstrapped, hopped down, and walked around a bit to stretch complaining muscles. Anaya padded to the side and lay down on the grass, folding her wings neatly upon her back.

  The spot was maybe half a mile from the village in a clearing on top of a small hill that overlooked the pastoral community below. Aeron had known he was not going to be able to easily remember the dozen or so locations he had been assigned to visit, so he had decided to choose spots with prominent landmarks he could sketch in a drawing book. The sketches would help jog his memory, be his guide to portal locations.

  Shiver Bend, however, didn’t seem to have any obvious noteworthy landmarks. Despite overflying the area a few times, they had been unable to find a striking building or landmark near the village. So Aeron had chosen this hill. It had a rather scenic view of the village below and was not far away, so it would have to do. He removed his sketchbook from the saddlebags and examined the area and view before he started.

  As he sketched, he noticed that a group of people, three villagers, had left the small town and were heading his way. He was just finishing up the drawing when Anaya spoke to him.

  They approach.

  He closed the sketchbook and returned to Anaya who had risen to her haunches. He was tucking it back in the saddlebags when he heard voices.

  “I told you to keep back, Terry,” said a young male voice.

  “I’m not gonna miss seein’ a dragon,” an even younger voice replied, petulantly.

  “We don’t even know for sure that’s what it was,” another young male voice said, exasperated. “I didn’t see anything.”