“A moment,” Fillion said. He placed an angled barrier in front of the men on the ground, just in case. “I’ve placed a barrier between them and us that will stop arrows.”
Master Gella raised a brow. “We still need to be ready to defend against sorcery.”
He grunted and nodded.
They approached the wagon.
On the ground near the front of the wagon, the one man that let out an occasional moan was gritting his teeth, eyes closed. He seemed to be in a lot of pain. The other one had apparently been knocked out by the fall.
Is this man really asleep?
He is.
Fillion pointed. “He’s unconscious.”
Master Gella grunted. “Alright. Let’s see who and what’s in there.” She paused and peeked around the corner of the wagon. A pulse of magic came from her—a barrier on the hatch?—and she headed around to the back.
He followed her, and they both stared inside.
The wagon was empty.
What is wrong?
Fillion stared. There isn’t anyone inside the wagon, nor is there anything else in there. It’s empty.
I wondered why you were placing barriers by the wagon.
You knew there wasn’t anyone in there?
Of course. When we landed, I only sensed the two men.
You could have told me that!
I wonder where the others went.
Fillion tried to control his anger and frustration. None of this was Coatl’s fault. The bigger questions is why someone would steal an empty wagon.
Perhaps the people that are gone took whatever was in the wagon with them.
That’s got to be what happened. But how? And when? He turned to Master Gella. “I don’t understand.”
She stared into the hatch, eyes narrowed. “Do you have your patrol whistle?”
“I do.”
“Blow three short blasts, followed by two long.”
He did as instructed. Answering responses came from two directions.
Five minutes later, several police officers arrived. Master Gella spoke with them at length, then returned to him.
“Remove your barrier and let’s return to the bank. We need to learn exactly what was in the wagon.”
As Coatl flew them back, Fillion went over the entire episode again and again. He felt a little numb and completely confused. While he’d not actually seen how many of the three had climbed into the wagon as he and Master Gella made their way out of the building, someone had shot an arrow at the special investigator from within. It hadn’t been the bowman up front. He’d seen movement in the shadows within the hatch, too, so there had to have been at least one person in the back.
He shook his head. “I don’t get it,” he called over his shoulder. “Aside from those few minutes at the beginning, we had eyes on that wagon the entire time. How could—”
“Pissing blades!” She grabbed his shoulder and pointed. “That way! Hurry!”
Unsure what was wrong now, he gave Coatl her directions. Not much later she had them land at the site of the carriage accident. Coatl set down just inside an alley, off the street and out of the way.
Master Gella hopped down. “Put a tail and some ears on me and call me an ass.” She walked out of the alley and stood at the side of the street.
Fillion jumped down. “What?”
A few people had stopped walking along the sidewalk when Coatl landed. They stared at the unusual trio. Fillion only gave them a passing glance as he followed the special investigator, trying to figure out what she’d meant.
She walked slowly down the sidewalk in the direction of the accident. The carriage now sat on the other side of the road where it had been moved. A police officer was there, talking to a few people and taking notes.
Master Gella gazed intently at the street, searching for something, then pointed to a spot several feet back from the carriage. “There. The wagon was stopped about there, wasn’t it?”
Fillion tilted his head and thought back. “The angle’s a little different from the ground, but I think the wagon stopped about there, yeah.”
“Curse me for a fool.” Master Gella shook her head and waited for a cabriolet to pass. She then hurried across the street. “They’re likely long gone, but—”
A pulse of magic came from her and a circular metal plate Fillion hadn’t even noticed before rose from the street. She set it down to the side. Luckily, there was very little traffic at the moment, so their standing in the road wasn’t causing a disruption.
He stared at the opening the removed plate revealed. Half a foot in from the side of the road, it was about two and a half feet in diameter. “What is that?”
“Worker access to storm drainage tunnels below the street.”
He walked over, and they looked down into the hole. Metal rungs embedded in what looked like a brick wall made a kind of ladder that led down, and part of a train track was just visible below, steel rails on wooden ties.
He raised his brows. “Stronghold has underground railroads?”
“No,” Master Gella said. “They don’t.”
It suddenly became clear. “Yrdra’s tits. The accident wasn’t an accident. They used it as a distraction, an excuse to stop right here.”
“Exactly. Then, within the darkness enchantment, they were able to unload the wagon down this with no one the wiser.” She shook her head. “And I fell for it completely.”
A man watches you two, surprised and worried. He thinks of that hole, the wagon, and people climbing out of the wagon.
Fillion glanced at Coatl. Who? Where is he? An image of a man appeared in his mind.
Coatl turned. There.
Fillion looked but didn’t stare. He merely let his gaze pass over the man, who stood three dozen feet away, just beyond the carriage. Keep an eye on him.
I will.
“Master Gella,” he murmured.
“Hmm?”
“I think one of the people involved is still here. Coatl says a man thinks about the armored wagon and this hole.”
Her eyes narrowed. “Where is he?”
“I’ve not looked at him directly because he watches us.” He described the man to her and where he stood. “Coatl is keeping an eye on him at the moment.”
“Have him ready to bind the man. We’ll do the same as we run to grab him. I doubt the man can counter three spells at once, over, and over.”
Fillion explained everything to Coatl. So, are you ready?
I am.
Fillion whispered, “Now.”
They ran for the man. His eyes widened and he tried to turn and run, but his feet were bound to the sidewalk. The man must have countered, because Fillion’s bind spell collapsed, but he continued to bind the man over and over as needed.
Their running drew people’s attention, including the police officer. He watched them, brows drawn together.
Master Gella grabbed the man and pulled his arms behind his back.
The officer called out as he walked over, “Hey, just what are you doing? Release him. He can’t help that the axle on his carriage broke.”
“Your handcuffs, officer,” Master Gella said. “I want this man detained for questioning concerning a stolen armored wagon and the assault of several guards at First Trust Bank.”
“What?” The officer looked from Master Gella to the man and then back. “Who are you?”
“Special Investigator Gella. If you’ll handcuff this man, I can show you my identification.”
The officer’s brows rose. “Special investigator?” He quickly reached to the side of his belt, removed a pair of handcuffs, and snapped them closed over the man’s wrists.
Master Gella turned to Fillion. “You and Coatl keep his feet bound.”
He nodded. “Yes, ma’am.”
The officer glanced at him. “Coatl?”
Fillion looked behind. “My dragon.”
Coatl, who’d been approaching at a more leisurely pace while he and Master Gella ran, padded
up to them and chirped.
The officer stared at him. “I’d seen dragons flying patrols. I–I didn’t realize how big they were.”
“My identification.” Master Gella held it out.
After a moment, the officer looked away from Coatl and took her credentials. As he studied them, he appeared to get more and more flustered.
Master Gella frowned. “Are you—”
“I’m sorry!” The officer thrust his hand forward, identification held out. “I didn’t know he was anything other than a man involved in an accident.”
“Nor did we,” Fillion said. “At least until we had time to piece together the clues we’d been finding.”
Master Gella retrieved her credentials and tucked them in her jacket. “You have nothing to apologize for, officer. The team involved with the robbery was very well organized. We didn’t realize the importance of this supposed accident until just now.” She glanced at the man. His face was impassive. “Take this man in for questioning. He knows magic, so standard sorcerer precautions will be needed. Also, barricades need to be placed around the open maintenance hatch to divert traffic around it. We’ll be investigating below.”
The officer nodded. “Yes, ma’am.” He blew a series of blasts on his whistle and a few minutes later, more officers arrived.
The driver of the carriage was taken away, hooded, gloved, and still handcuffed.
“What of the dragon?” The officer stared at Coatl. “It’s a bit big to remain in the street or on the sidewalk.”
“He,” Fillion said. “He is a bit big, yes. But . . .” After a quick look around, Fillion pointed. “Coatl can wait for us on top of that building. It appears sturdy enough to hold his weight.”
Is that alright, big guy?
That is a good place to lay in the sun. He crouched, then leapt into the air, wings beating.
Gasps and murmurs came from the people around.
The officer watched Coatl land on the roof. “I–I suppose that will do.” He blinked, then joined the other officers.
“Now that everything has been addressed,” Master Gella said, “we need to see what we can find below.” She pulled out her ether writer and faint clicks and taps came as she wrote on it.
Fillion drew his brows together. Who was she sending a message to? Some of her fellow investigators?
+ + + + +
Chanté glanced over again.
That woman, Elizabeth, was sitting at the head table. She and the Guildmaster occasionally exchanged unheard words as they ate breakfast. Apparently, she was the girl Quillan had gone on that one date with right before his craft master had been killed. Their date had been something like three years ago.
Chanté grunted, ate the last of his bacon and had a swallow of orange juice. He turned to Quillan. “Have you made any progress on your communications gear?”
“Actually, I’ve kind of set that aside for the moment as I work on deciphering the device Masters Gella and Elizabeth brought me.”
“I thought you were having fun working on the gear.”
Quillan nodded. “I was—I am. But there’s something familiar about that circuit. I can’t figure out why, and it’s been nagging at me.”
“I see.” Chanté swirled the last of the juice in the glass. He didn’t like that Quillan had set that project aside, a project that he’d seemed so enthusiastic about. “I thought using the magic field to carry the voice information was an elegant solution. You’re pretty good at engineering.”
Quillan smiled. “Thanks. Most people are focused on longer range communications. But like I mentioned, we don’t need to communicate quite that far, and using the magic field, encoding the voice information in it—” His eyes widened and he gasped.
He turned to Chanté. “That’s it!” Quillan grabbed his plates and tossed them on his tray. “Hurry. I think I figured out that circuit.”
The initial excitement Chanté felt, a chance to watch Quillan at work, was tempered somewhat when the Guildmaster and Elizabeth were invited along.
They walked into the workshop.
“Incredible.” Elizabeth moved next to Quillan at the table. “You figured out what the device does after only one day?”
“No.” Quillan shook his head as he dug through a stack of papers. “I figured out what that circuit does, the one I thought looked familiar.”
He pulled a sheet out of the stack. It was one of those with formulae and enchantments he’d been working on.
Chanté stepped closer. “Isn’t that for your communication devices?”
Quillan smiled. “It is! This is the formula I worked out for receiving. The enchantment monitors the magic field for specific modulations, vibrations, if you will, encoded a specific way.” He slid one of the thin metal plates closer, then pulled the magnifying lens over and positioned it above the circuit. He set the paper next to the metal plate. “Notice anything about these two?”
Chanté leaned over the lens and looked at the symbols scratched into the thin metal. He glanced at the spell on the page and saw what Quillan meant. Though they used different symbols, the start of each was identical. “They start out the same.”
“What?” Guildmaster Millinith stepped over, and Chanté moved to the side. She looked through the lens and grunted.
“The enchantment,” Quillan said, “at least the beginning of it, is identical in both. Which makes sense.”
“How so?” Elizabeth, who’d moved to see through the magnifying lens, looked over at him.
“It’s kind of like forging something from, say, iron. No matter what you’re making, be it a scythe, a dagger, or a kettle, you work with the iron the same way at the beginning. And everyone has to work the same way with it, to a point. It’s similar with these enchantments. No matter what else you’re doing afterwards, you have to take the same initial steps to monitor the magic field. The patterns of symbols, the spell steps on this metal plate, are identical to those I’d written down for my enchantment. That’s why it seemed familiar.”
Chanté narrowed his eyes. “So then that device was set up to receive some sort of message over the magic field?”
“Yes,” Quillan said. He looked at the thin plate. “While overall this circuit is more complex than the others in this device, the part of the circuit that likely decodes and translates the modulation is much simpler than mine, so the message it receives has to be fairly simple, too. Nothing at all like the complexity of encoded voices.” He glanced at the metal plates arrayed on the table. “Aside from the receiving circuit, the others are very basic. So whatever this device does isn’t likely to be very complicated either.”
Chanté crossed his arms. “What use could one make of a device that receives a very simple message over the magic field?”
“This is only the first circuit to be deciphered,” Elizabeth said. “As more are decoded, its use will probably become more clear.”
“Actually,” Quillan said, “I figured another circuit out before this one.”
Elizabeth turned to him. “Really?”
Quillan nodded. “It was fairly obvious what it likely did, linked as it was to the gear framework, so it wasn’t hard to decode. The third circuit spins those gears, which in turn pulls in about six inches of that wire that extended out one of the holes.”
Chanté grunted. “So, the circuit pulls the wire in? That’s all?”
Quillan chuckled. “Not very dramatic, but like I said, those other circuits are pretty simple.”
“Hmm,” Elizabeth said. “How long do you think it will take you to figure out the remaining three circuits?”
“Three?”
“There was one on the outside, wasn’t there?”
“Oh, right.” Quillan frowned. “Well, with the circuits I’ve decoded so far, I have been able to work out a number of the symbols. That being said, I still have no idea how long it will take.”
She nodded and then smiled. “Even so, you’ve discovered more in one night than I’ve been able to learn
in weeks and weeks.”
Quillan blushed. “Well, actually, it was talking with Chanté that finally let me make the connection.”
Chanté’s lips curved in a little smile. It made him happy to have been able to help.
“Oh, come now,” Elizabeth said. “Give yourself some credit. You were the one who recognized the similarities in the enchantments, after all.”
Chanté’s smile faded as anger filled him. That woman hadn’t said anything outright offensive, but for some reason, he was easily upset when she was around.
“I–I suppose you’re right.” Quillan chuckled.
Squeezing pressure made Chanté’s chest feel tight. He stared at Quillan. Why had he agreed with her?
What is wrong?
Chanté clenched his jaws. It’s that Elizabeth woman.
Ah, I see. Quillan is there, is he not?
His brows furrowed. He is. Why?
I will leave the figuring out of that to you, at least for the time being.
What did that mean? Chanté pressed his lips together. I need your help with these stupid feelings I know nothing about, not more evasions.
This is one of those things you should try to work out for yourself. My interference will . . . lessen it.
Lessen it? Lessen what? He was about to demand she explain herself when a knock drew his attention.
“Excuse me.” A messenger stood in the doorway. “Guildmaster?”
“Ah, there you are.” Guildmaster Millinith walked to the door. “Itzel said you had a message for me?”
“Yes, from Adept Liflin.” The messenger handed her an envelope, bowed, then left.
She opened it. “Hmm. It seems Master Gella would like the assistance of another bond-pair to ferret out some ne’er-do-wells in Stronghold.”
“I can go.” Chanté turned to her. He had an intense desire to get away.
Guildmaster Millinith eyed him a moment before nodding. “Good. You’re familiar with the patrol routes there, right?”
Chanté nodded. “Yes, ma’am.” Quillan, he noted, was staring at him.
“They wait for you near the middle of route three. Once you’re at Stronghold, Nantli should be able to speak with Coatl to get better directions.”
Of Gods, Trees, and a Sapling: Dragonlinked Chronicles Volume 4 Page 44