“Hear, hear.” Aeron pounded the table and nodded approvingly.
“He’s exactly right!” Korrie smiled at Terry, and the youngest dragonlinked smiled back at her.
“Renny.” Hunter stared at him. “That was . . .”
Millinith leaned close to Doronal and whispered, “It would appear that age doesn’t matter to others, either.”
His cheeks darkened and he cleared his throat. “Yes,” he said, a bit loudly, “well, once we explain potential consequences, we will certainly allow any interested candidates to present themselves to any dragon willing to bond, no matter either of their ages. But we must still address the issue of where to house those Departed who do not wish to bond, should there be any.”
“Well,” Liara said, “why can’t they, too, live in the Guildhall but in unused rooms?”
“The arrival of the Departed,” Millinith said, “made it clear that right now we can’t be certain how many dragons we’ll need room for. As word spreads, more and more dragons may decide to join Anaya. For all we know, another group may show up next week. I’d hate to have dragons not interested in bonding live in the Guildhall for a time and then have us be forced to ask them to leave because those rooms are needed for newly bonded pairs.”
She shook her head. “So, no. We must reserve the rooms in the Guildhall for those who are bonded and whose bond-mates are still training, or at the very least, for dragons who will eventually bond.”
Fillion sat forward. “What about outside the Guildhall in the nearby hills, or, could we build separate quarters like we’re doing at Bataan-Mok?”
“Those suggestions are certainly feasible.” Millinith looked around. “Any other ideas?”
Polandra drummed her fingers on the table. “What if they lived in the desert caves? A House used to exist in there, after all.”
Millinith tugged on a lock of hair. “True enough. But will dragons accept their Highest Mother not always being in residence? While I’m sure they wouldn’t mind visiting, I can’t imagine Anaya and Aeron would want to move to the caves, certainly not while they’re training in the craft.”
She glanced at Aeron. His expression confirmed her suspicions.
Polandra shrugged. “Well, let’s ask our dragons.”
Millinith grunted. An excellent suggestion. You lived in a dragon House for a time. Would you care if the Highest Mother didn’t live in the warren with you?
It took a moment for Itzel to reply. That . . . has never been done, as far back as I can remember.
Okay, but what do you think? Would you be upset if Anaya moved from the Guildhall to the caves while the rest of us remained here?
Because I have you, I would probably not be bothered much, as long as she came to visit now and again to address any issues. But for dragons who are not bonded, I think they will need some kind of leadership presence. Even the Departed have Matlal.
That’s true.
The expressions on several faces indicated that their dragons weren’t entirely optimistic, either.
“Itzel thinks the idea could work,” Millinith said, “as long as there’s some kind of leadership presence.”
Polandra blinked. “Leadership—”
“—presence?” Liara finished.
Millinith chuckled. “Yes. And I think I have an idea in regard to that.”
He comes, and he is not alone.
Several heads turned to the northwest. All the dragons had informed their bond-mates, it seemed.
“He’s early.” Doronal turned to her.
“Well, we did tell him they were welcome to visit at any time.” She turned to the others. “Alright, folks, let’s go greet our guests. Sharrah, you and Adept Komako are with me. Gregor, if you could ferry over Adept Oran?”
He nodded. “Of course.”
All the guild’s dragons flew through the night. Side-by-side with Anaya, Itzel flew, the two leading them to the clearing where they’d previously met with Matlal.
As Itzel hovered, Millinith did a quick count of the visitors by starlight. Eleven Departed waited below. That many unbonded dragons together was a wonderful, if sightly worrying, thing to see.
Itzel followed Anaya down to land in the eastern side of the clearing. All around—dragons, their bond-mates and friends on their backs—set down.
Komako stepped to her side. “This is very exciting. The Departed are even more wild, in a manner of speaking, than other unbonded dragons.”
Sharrah glanced at the Animal Craft adept and frowned.
Millinith knew what she was thinking. What could happen with antsy, wild dragons?
Anaya stepped forward. Departed, I welcome you all.
T–Thank you, Queen Anaya. Matlal lowered his head in a bow, then continued. These are the dragons who I spoke of before. They all have an interest in joining you.
Millinith put a hand on Itzel’s shoulder. Can you take their measure from this distance? Can you tell if they are suitable to join us?
I can. We are reviewing them.
She blinked. We? Though, now she thought about it, all the guild’s dragons probably had an interest in verifying the intentions of these Departed.
It is an honor to have so many interested in joining us. Anaya looked them over. Before you make your decision, however, I think it best to tell you something of our work. You may not understand it, yet, may not believe it, but dragons have a purpose beyond a fearful existence in warrens.
Aeron stepped forward and stood beside his bond-mate. Anaya tells me that some of you are not from House Yaot, and those of you who are were not there when we visited, so none of you heard us speak of what we do. He lifted a hand and gestured to his friends. All of us, dragon and human, have one overarching goal, and that is to protect people. And by that I mean all people, whether human or dragon.
Millinith stared at him with a small smile. She still recalled the somewhat timid boy she’d first met in the Magic Craft Hall back at the Caer. He had come far.
Anaya chirped. Like all of you, even before I emerged from my egg, I was afraid. That is our nature, you see, for we are formed incomplete. None of us know that, and I certainly did not at the time. But by amazing happenstance, when I hatched, Aeron was there. She turned to him and rested her chin on his head.
Aeron reached up and placed his hand on her cheek. She was the most amazing thing I had ever seen. She still is.
Anaya turned to Matlal. Aeron fed me and comforted me, and when I realized that he and I were one, the Bond linked us and made me whole. I no longer feared every little thing. I no longer trembled at the merest sound. I had Aeron, and he had me.
The Bond is a dragon’s birthright. Aeron looked over the Departed before him. It unlocks who you really are.
Faint concern came through from Itzel. Some are worried.
Millinith could understand. This was a great deal to absorb. She took a step forward. That isn’t to say you must bond to join us. We merely wish you to know that your birthright, she glanced at Aeron, will always be available to you.
You must have questions. Anaya sat on her haunches. Ask us what you will and we will answer.
Queen Anaya. The male on the far left lowered his head in a bow. W–What is the Bond?
A powerful spell that links you with your bond-mate. From that point on, your minds and souls are connected.
He looked up. D–Does it hurt?
Not at all. Aeron smiled. It is amazing.
Matlal tilted his head. Where did you learn that spell, Queen Anaya?
Anaya chirped. It is a part of all of us. When you find the one who is meant to be with you, the Bond will blossom in your heart of its own accord.
Q–Queen Anaya. A pretty brown female bowed her head. Y–You spoke of a purpose. How do all of you protect people?
One of the gifts of the Bond is the ability to sense nahual, creatures of death. Anaya rumbled. We hunt those foul beasts as part of our purpose. Beyond that, we watch, we fight, we fly, and we even walk. We do whateve
r it takes to protect and defend as needed.
That isn’t to say we don’t also have fun. Willem patted Balam on the neck. Flying through the sky with your bond-mate is an amazing thing.
Sand! Anaya chirped. Playing in sand is very fun, too!
Several guild dragons rumbled in happy agreement.
And swimming after, to wash the sand off. Aeron grinned.
Anaya’s stuttering laugh was echoed by a few others.
After a few more rounds of questions and answers, it seemed the interested dragons were a bit less nervous.
Millinith glanced at Itzel. What do you think of them?
None of us sense any ill intent. They appear to be decent dragons and I would welcome any of them.
Can you sense what they think of us?
They remain wary, as is their nature, but they are no longer afraid. Anaya has an idea to help with that.
Oh?
Anaya stood. We have spoken with you, have listened to you, and found you to be good dragons. I welcome you ten to join us when you are ready. As I told Matlal, I will now tell you all. Even after hearing what we have said, should you have further questions, you are welcome to visit the Guildhall as often as you wish to ease your concerns. Speak to any of us and we will be glad to show you all we do.
+ + + + +
Being awoken halfway through the night did nothing for Queen Ixtab’s mood. She did not bother waiting for the Record-keeper to arrive. The night is exceedingly deep. Why do you return, now? Surely her egg has not hatched. Has she even clutched?
I–I am sorry for waking you, Highest Mother. She has clutched—I saw her fly with another for food and she is no longer gravid—but it has been nowhere near long enough for an egg to hatch.
She rose up to all fours. Then why did you wake me? Could you not have waited until morning to inform me of her clutching?
He lowered his head even more. I have seen things, Highest Mother, that I do not understand.
Such as?
Dragons, h–humans upon their back, appear from and disappear into . . . h–holes in the sky.
Holes? She blinked. In the sky?
Misty holes that are there one moment then gone the next.
An annoyed rumble escaped her. Have you been ignoring sleep as you watch?
Of course not, Highest Mother. The . . . the strange openings in the air are not the most important thing I witnessed. He glanced up at her, then lowered his gaze. His wings furled and unfurled.
Are you going to tell me, or do I have to claw it out of you? She rumbled again.
He hunched low. The Departed! I saw members of the Departed there.
What was that girl doing? Queen Ixtab stepped closer. Are you certain they were of the Departed?
I–I cannot be sure, but the dragons flew in from the west. I did not recognize any of their number save for one. He is an exile from House Yaot. It is p–possible, though highly unlikely, that he joined another House, but there are no Houses in the direction from which they came.
She again cursed herself for not learning of Malina’s plans in time. Those plans had led to Anaya hatching, had led to some of this House giving their children to that wretched girl, and had now led to this.
Various Departed had approached House Yaot over the years, begging to be allowed back in, professing their agreement to do any task and accept any punishment required of them. Queen Ixtab had always turned them down, as had her predecessors. Was that why they now approached Anaya? To join her? Did they know of her lineage? Did they know Anaya shared blood with the First Family of House Yaot?
She snorted. Even if they did, what of it? It mattered not if a few miscreants joined her. But was it only a few?
Eyes narrowed, she stared at the pathetic dragon. You said ‘any of their number.’ How many were there?
T–There were eleven.
She let out a surprised bark. E–Eleven?
That is c–correct, Highest Mother. Trembling, he stretched his wings over his lowered head.
Blood pounded in her ears. If Anaya accepted them, how many more of the Departed would approach, looking to join? How many more of House Yaot would take their children to her? How long would it be before actual members of House Yaot left to join that shell fragment of a girl?
Her roar filled the chamber. Where is the Record-keeper!
Chapter 22
Sulday, Diamy 24, 1875.
Morning.
Quillan admired the distant vista as Nantli took him and Chanté in a large circle, high above the Guildhall.
“You haven’t passed out again, have you? You’ve been awfully quiet.”
Quillan clenched his jaws. Making sure his voice would not betray the embarrassment and upset he felt, he said, “No, Elizabeth, I haven’t.”
“Good. It seems you’re getting more used to flying.”
He felt something like a rumble, but it came from Chanté not Nantli. It was also faintly audible through the communication set.
Quillan tightened his arms a touch around Chanté. Elizabeth was wearing a comm set, though, so— Tell him she didn’t mean anything by it.
Now a rumble thrummed up from Nantli. I will tell him, but I agree. She is too familiar.
We’ve known each other since we were kids. Friends can make fun of each other.
I see.
Quillan thought she sounded happy and wondered why.
Though, did I not feel a little anger from you when she said that?
He should know better than to try to be cavalier with a dragon. As Chanté had revealed to him, they did indeed sense emotions quite well. He had been a little upset by her comment. This fear of heights was something he absolutely hated about himself, so he was a bit sensitive concerning that subject. Perhaps he should have tried to come up with an interesting diversion for Elizabeth other than watching from the balcony.
“Descending.” Chanté’s voice was carefully neutral.
Quillan held on. “Noted.”
Nantli angled downward as she circled.
Quillan could actually look around a little more, now. His having fainted two days ago notwithstanding, he really was getting more used to flying with Chanté and Nantli. He still couldn’t look down at the ground below them, however, but perhaps someday he would be able to.
For these practice flights, they kept to an altitude of a hundred feet or lower. Chanté said one hundred feet was the minimum to get used to, which made complete sense. In general, that was the height portals were opened above the ground. If Quillan was going to accompany dragonlinked, he’d likely be taken through quite a few of those. That he was starting to get somewhat used to flying that high made him more than a little proud. He remembered when riding a horse seemed an almost impossible dream.
Nantli now circled almost of a height with the top of the hill that was the roof of this part of the Guildhall. They flew past trees of dark and medium green, and golden morning sunlight lit up the clouds above. Bright spears of light shot down from the clouds. They were not the dark, gloomy thunderheads that had drenched them in rain last week. These big, fluffy towers of water vapor weren’t dark at all.
He took it all in and let out a satisfied sigh. “It’s amazing flying up here.”
“Isn’t it?” Chanté turned, his large smile only evident by the way it curved his cheeks, just visible between the riding mask and goggles. And his eyes. They smiled, too.
“When my leg is healed, I’d like to do some more flying. It’s a little painful and decidedly awkward doing so right now.”
Don’t look down, Quillan reminded himself. Instead, he looked to the side, at the tree-covered roof of the Guildhall. “Absolutely. With your joint investigation with Master Gella and Fillion, you’ll get to ride with Coatl quite a bit.”
A halting rumble thrummed under his thighs and a grunt came through the comm set, but a striking scene distracted him. “What happened there?”
“Hmm? Where?” Chanté looked over his shoulder.
Qu
illan pointed. “Back there. Can you have Nantli turn around? There was a big tree that looked as if someone tried to burn it.”
Nantli’s wings beat powerfully as she hovered before the enormous maple.
“Good grief.” Quillan stared at the torn and charred sentinel.
“Lightning must have struck it,” Chanté said. “Do you see that jagged line along the trunk where the bark is gone and the exposed wood singed? That’s the path the lightning took. The intense heat made the moisture in the surface bark and wood explode into steam, ripping it off the tree.”
Quillan pointed. “It looks like the leaf-litter caught fire, too, from the strike. I guess the rain kept it from spreading too far.”
“I was visiting Fillion last week in his room,” Elizabeth said, “talking about their progress, when there was a very loud thunderbolt. Scared the hells out of me. Soon after, the rain starting pelting the balcony. Hard.”
Though Elizabeth was not with them on Nantli, Quillan nodded at her, “I remember that, now. It was pretty loud.”
“Lightning is beautiful,” Chanté murmured, “and powerful.”
If they hadn’t been wearing comm sets, Quillan wouldn’t have heard the quiet words over the sound of Nantli’s strong wing beats. “It is. I’d forgotten that it can start fires.”
“Two years ago,” Elizabeth said, “terrible wildfires near Stronghold were started by lightning. It took the help of five fire brigades from the city to help get them under control. It had been so dry that summer that any spark would have ignited the grasslands, truth be told.”
Several thoughts collided in Quillan’s mind at once, and his arms clutched tighter.
Chanté turned his head to see over his shoulder. “Quillan? Are you alright?”
Quillan blinked.
“What’s happening? Is he okay?”
A spark.
Quillan?
The devices had been found at some sites where buildings had burned down, but the devices weren’t monitoring the fires.
He swallowed. “Good gods.” Looking at Chanté, he said, “I need to get to my workshop.”
Chanté drew his brows together, but he nodded, and faced forward. Not even a second later, Nantli started pounding her wings faster.
Of Gods, Trees, and a Sapling: Dragonlinked Chronicles Volume 4 Page 69