“It’s a good thing one of our dragons sensed the boy.” Jessip, brow raised, stared at Zolin.
Embarrassment flowed from Zolin. From the street, from that angle, it was difficult to tell his life pulse was in this building rather than the next one over.
“We’re still learning how to do this fire rescue thing,” Renata said. “We’ll get better.”
A series of whistle blasts came from the left.
Fillion turned to the sound. “Pissing blades, another fire?”
Nantli looked at all the rubble that had fallen around the building. Once it hit the ground, the flaming debris tumbled and spread. On the other end of the tenement, some of it had ended up against a neighboring building, catching it on fire, too.
She let out a rumble. Too many of the structures here are made of wood.
“Yes.” Renata nodded. “They could have at least used stone on more of them.”
“Exactly.” Jessip pointed to a building where flames licked up from burning rubble collected at its bottom—flames that did nothing. “Fire can’t easily spread to buildings with brick or stone facings.”
One of the brigades from the tenement fire moved their truck to the newly burning building. Three men started working the pump lever on its side.
Nantli rumbled as she watched the hose crew, watched the relatively thin stream of water arc over to the rubble. More water needs to be brought to bear on the flames. Certainly once they have spread dangerously throughout a building.
Chanté turned to the crew. From what I understand, there’s only so much water that passes through the pipes leading to the fire hydrants.
Nantli grunted. What of magic, then? Did they not mention in one of your Magic Craft lessons that fires can be extinguished with sorcery? Could we help put out fires that way?
That would work, actually, unless there were people in the building. They need air to breathe just as the fire does. Unfortunately, those specific enchantments haven’t yet been part of our training.
A memory of seeing Anaya tending the moss garden came to her. Could we create a very large magic bowl and scoop up water with it from somewhere? We could then dump it on fires.
Chanté chuckled. That’s ridiculous, lovely.
“It’s not funny,” Fillion said. “That’s another fire we have to help control.”
Worry and embarrassment came through the link. “I–I wasn’t laughing at the fire. I was laughing at something Nantli said. She wondered if we could use an enormous enchanted bowl to bring water to fires.”
Fillion burst into laughter. “That is funny.”
Embarrassed, Nantli let out an angry bark.
Fillion raised his hands at her and chuckled. “Sorry, Nantli. You’re right though, it would be nice if there were a way to get a lot more water to a fire.”
A pulse of realization and surprise through the link made her turn to Chanté.
Brows lifted, he said, “Sand.”
“Sand?” Renata looked at him.
He nodded and turned to Xochi. “Aeron once mentioned that Xochi insisted on having that really soft sand in the clutching room.”
“Yeah, she did.” Brows drawn together, Renata nodded.
Chanté smiled. “And you all sent a great deal of that sand over to the Guildhall with—”
“Portals!” Quillan stared at him. “That’s genius.”
Jessip grunted. “That is a good idea. Just having the water spew out of the destination portal like the sand did won’t be very effective, though.”
“I agree,” Chanté said. “We need to force it through a small opening, get it into a stream like the fire brigade does with the hoses, and like those hoses, we need to be able to direct the stream produced. But how?”
Nantli chirped. You need to enclose it, like the hose encloses the water from the truck.
“I just had a crazy idea.” Jessip stared at Nantli.
Renata grunted and raised a brow. “Like Zolin flipping upside-down with your feet glued to the saddle?”
He chuckled at her. “Maybe. When Gregor was painting the welcome sign for the show, it started to rain. I used a dome-shaped barrier with a hole to catch rain falling in the courtyard and direct it to the drain grate, to keep him and the sign dry. I’m thinking a barrier around the exit portal would contain the water, and a hole in the barrier could be used like a spigot to direct it.”
“A spherical barrier would be the simplest,” Quillan said, “and you can then rotate it around the center to direct the water wherever you want.”
Jessip nodded. “Exactly. But where to get water from?”
Fillion snapped his fingers. “The river!”
Nantli looked at the crew working the lever on the truck. Will there be enough pressure in the river water? The fire brigade has to use pumps.
“Good question.” Quillan glanced at the truck.
“How deep is the river?” Chanté looked at Fillion.
“I heard it’s something like fifty feet deep in the middle.”
“That doesn’t matter.” Quillan frowned. “I don’t think it will work.”
Chanté turned to him. “Why not?”
“Isn’t the gateway like a long pipe with the portals at its ends? If you run a pipe from the river to here, for example, the water won’t just spout out of it. There is a lot of water pressure at the end of the pipe fifty feet down in the river, to be sure, but even so, water doesn’t flow up pipes of its own accord. All else being equal, the weight of the water in the pipe keeps it at the same level as the body of water the pipe is in.”
“True,” Chanté said, “but your analogy is not quite correct. Traveling between portals is like traveling through a pipe of length zero. There is no distance up which water has to lift its own weight.”
Quillan raised his brows. “I see. So a more apt analogy would be a pipe running horizontally from within a reservoir, through its dam, and out into the open air. Ignoring friction, turbulence, and such due to a pipe length of zero, and the minuscule difference in air pressure, the water will gush out under the same pressure it had upon entering the pipe within the reservoir lake.” He smiled at Chanté.
Fillion laughed. “I have no idea what you two just said, but will it work?”
There is a sure way to find out. Nantli barked. Try it!
“Good point!” Quillan smiled and turned to Chanté. “It was your idea, so why don’t you try it first. I’m not very studied, yet, in hydrodynamics, so we should be careful. I’m not quite certain what size to make the portals. They have to be the same on both ends, if I recall correctly.”
“That’s right,” Fillion said.
“I’ll use a two inch diameter portal initially.” Chanté glanced at Jessip. “The barrier enclosing this end will be a sphere with a four inch internal diameter.” He turned to the hose crew. “I’ll emulate their hoses for the outlet. The nozzle opening is fairly small, perhaps one inch? I’ll use the same size.”
“And the depth in the river?” Renata stared at Chanté.
“I’d not go deeper than ten feet, to start,” Quillan said. “If that does not provide enough pressure, we can try increasing the depth by five feet at a time. We want to put the fires out, not punch holes through the buildings.”
Zolin chirped. It might be fun to see a building brought down with just water.
Jessip patted him on the neck and chuckled. “Maybe another time.”
“Can you even place an anchor in the river?” Fillion asked.
Chanté nodded. “I can. Patrols took me there often enough, and that’s also where I saw Jessip practice his trick for the show. I have a very clear memory of the surface of the river.”
Jessip cleared his throat and looked embarrassed.
“What are we waiting for, then?” Fillion grinned. “As Nantli said, let’s try it!”
“Place the enclosing barrier first, I think,” Quillan said, “and have it aimed that way to start, away from everyone and everything.” He pointed towa
rd the other end of the plaza in a direction that was clear of obstructions, people or otherwise.”
Chanté nodded. A pulse of magic came from him, and through the link, Nantli felt him weaving the spell. A distortion appeared in the air about three feet above the ground. The barrier.
“Here we go.” Chanté concentrated again.
A much larger pulse of magic came from him as he opened the tiny portals. When the sectioned purple glass of the portal spell vanished, the spherical barrier burst into light from contact, revealing a little collar shape on the side of the sphere like a very short tube. Water burst forth from the collar.
Nantli barked in surprise. The shimmery light from the sphere-shaped barrier traveled through the water jet for quite a distance. It was very pretty.
“Wow!” Fillion stared at the extensive stream of water.
“Damn.” Jessip eyed where the water splashed to the ground, very near a building across the street at the other end of the plaza. “That’s well over a hundred feet.”
Chanté burst into laughter.
Everyone turned and stared at him.
Surprise and wonder came from his friends. Nantli glanced around at them and back at Chanté. She chirped. His smile had never been so big in front of this many people.
“That’s incredible.” Still smiling, Chanté turned to Jessip. “Golden, even.”
“Hells yeah, it is!” Fillion pounded Chanté on the back. “You and Jessip just figured out a way that we can get these fires out a great deal faster!”
“The little collar was a genius idea to reduce turbulence,” Quillan said. “That stream seems a little long, though. What if you made the opening a little bigger?”
Chanté stared at the sphere.
Nantli watched him adjust the barrier spell, the opening in it. When the changes were complete, the stream dropped to less than half its previous length.
“Same size sphere,” Chanté said, “but with an inch and a half wide opening, now, instead of an inch.”
“Much better.” Quillan nodded.
“Go ahead and close the portals,” Renata said. “The test was a success, so there’s no need to further waste your spirit and animus.”
“Good point.” Chanté did so.
Fillion grunted. He stared at the wide line of wet ground leading off toward the far building. “We just need to let the other dragonlinked know this excellent water sphere trick.” He fingered the activation stud on his cap.
Nantli was about to offer to speak to the other dragons when Quillan let out a yell.
“Argh!” Quillan turned and jogged over to her. “With all the excitement, I completely forgot the reason we came here in the first place.” He dug his satchel out of a saddle bag. “Give me your riding caps and masks. I’ve finished the replacement circuits.”
He took the pair Jessip handed him and removed the ear piece. Then he squatted, set the cap down, and looked the small device over. “Thankfully, I made tiny little trays that each circuit sits on. Makes it very simple to slide the appropriate one out,” he pulled out a thin metal frame, “and carefully replace the circuit.” After a few moments with a small tool, the circuits had been swapped and the little tray slid closed. “Now for the mouth piece.”
Just as quickly, he replaced the other circuit and handed the gear back to Jessip. “Better than new. You three have the last ones I need to fix. Then you’ll all be able to coordinate quickly again without fear of a sonic blast to your ears.”
He started on the next cap, Fillion’s.
Jessip grunted. “If we could only keep the fires from starting in the first place. But who knows where the next one will be.”
Zolin chirped. I do.
Everyone turned to him.
Jessip’s eyes narrowed. “You mentioned something like that before. What do you mean?”
I do not know the exact building that will be next, but the area seems obvious. If you look at where the fires have been set so far and ignore the order they started, they form a rough spiral.
“I’m not a dragon, so I can’t picture all that in my head.” Fillion frowned. “Are you certain?”
Nantli was about to assure Fillion that Zolin was correct, when Coatl barked.
Fillion turned to his bond-mate. “They are in a spiral?”
Is Zolin right?
Nantli turned to Chanté. He is.
Coatl barked again.
“Well, hells.” Fillion turned to Quillan. “Hurry with the gear. I need to get to Master Gella and let her know what our dragons spotted.”
Chanté closed his eyes and concentration came through the link. I can’t see it.
It is as Zolin says. They form a spiral.
Chanté grunted.
“Jessip,” Fillion said, “use the water sphere to help the fire brigades put out the rest of the fires in this area. Watch how long you keep the portals open, though.” He turned to Renata. “Once your gear is repaired, you can spread word about the water sphere to the others while I meet with Master Gella.”
We should put this one out first. Zolin turned to the tenement building.
Jessip slipped his cap and mask on and climbed into the saddle. I agree. Let’s get up above it a bit so I can direct the water better.
With a bark, Zolin leapt into the night sky.
Nantli turned to Chanté. Longing and excitement came through the link as he watched them fly up to the building. She chirped. With these pieces, Quillan is finished repairing. Did you want us to help with the fires?
He twisted his lips and turned to her. Mayhap? I’m not sure. He glanced at the rescued boy who now lay in the cot. What we did to save that boy is the scariest thing I think I’ve ever gone through. Even so, it felt good to do so. It felt . . . right. He looked up at Zolin and Jessip. I would like to do more.
A tumult of feelings came from him, excitement chief among them. Nantli nosed him on the head. Then we shall.
+ + + + +
“Tell Master Gella I’m on the way to pick her up. I need to take her back to headquarters. There’s something on the map she needs to see.”
“Noted.”
Quillan ignored the voices in the comm set and finished with Renata’s riding gear. He carefully slid the transmit circuit drawer closed, tucked the device back in the mask, and smiled, handing it and the cap up to her. “There you go.”
“Thanks.” She activated the ear piece and pulled the cap on. As she secured the chin strap, her eyes went flat for a second and Xochi barked. Renata then hurried to her bond-mate and they prepared to leave.
“Well,” he said, “that was the last of them.” He stood.
Chanté was staring up at Jessip and Zolin.
Their strangely beautiful stream of water, lit within for much of its length by the sorcerous glow of the barrier, poured down upon the nearby tenement fire. The stream would rotate to a new orientation now and then, as Jessip directed it somewhere else.
“Watching everyone working so hard, striving to save people . . .” Chanté turned to him, a happy smile on his face. “I feel . . . excited. Full of energy. Like I need to do something.”
Quillan chuckled. “Like what?”
“Thanks to that water sphere,” Chanté said, “everyone else will have the fires taken care of, so why don’t we go look at the map? I’d like to see this spiral pattern the dragons speak of for myself.”
To the side, Nantli barked. She sounded a little offended.
Chanté turned to her, a little smile on his lips. “Not that I don’t believe you, lovely.”
Quillan lifted his brows. The look in Chanté’s eyes just then had made him feel a little—
There is no need to be jealous.
Quillan blinked and his heart skipped a beat.
Nantli glanced at him, then looked back at Chanté. Just because dragons can envision things in their mind better than humans, does not mean you should envy us that ability. There are things humans do better than dragons.
Quillan s
tared at her. His mind must be playing tricks on him.
Things humans do better than dragons? Chanté grunted. I wouldn’t know about that.
Quillan turned to Chanté. It didn’t sound like he was disagreeing with her, rather, it sounded like he was making a simple statement. But that made no sense. He was very talented, had a sharp mind, and—
“At any rate,” Chanté said, “let’s go to the special investigator offices. We’ll get to meet back up with Elizabeth, there, too.” The blank expression was back on Chanté’s face.
Seeing that, Quillan pressed his lips together and followed him to Nantli.
At a hundred feet above the buildings, it was plain to see that the fires were being brought under control. The swaths of flame he’d noted earlier as Nantli took them around the city so he could repair the comm sets were much smaller now. Though he was careful not to look directly down, it was clear that soon enough, the stars, Hemet, and the street lamps would be the only things lighting up Stronghold.
When the portal closed, Nantli banked down to the police headquarters below.
Quillan tightened his arms around Chanté. It was reflexive. Mostly.
After they dismounted, Nantli chirped at the dragons already in the dragon shelter, Coatl, Itzel, and Huemac. She hurried to join them.
Quillan grunted. The Guildmaster and Master Doronal were here, too, it seemed.
Chanté jogged to the stairwell door. “Hurry. I don’t want to miss any discussions they might be having.”
He needn’t have worried. They met Fillion and Master Gella in the hallway at the bottom of the stairs.
Fillion smiled at them. “Wanted to see this spiral, too, eh?”
Chanté nodded.
“We’d like to see what they were talking about,” Quillan said. “Thinking about it, I still can’t picture a spiral connecting the fires on what I recall of the map.”
“Yes. I’d like to see that myself.” Master Gella headed left down the hallway. “Knowing where the next fire will be could save lives.”
Everyone followed.
“Oh, you’re back.” Fox looked from Master Gella to the others walking in the room.
Guildmaster Millinith stood up from looking at the map, as did Master Doronal by her side.
Of Gods, Trees, and a Sapling: Dragonlinked Chronicles Volume 4 Page 91