Polandra glanced at it. “A kind of barrel cactus. Those thorns are sharp. Especially the very fine ones that are hard to see.”
“That’s a cactus?” Aeron stepped over and leaned down for a better look. “I’ve never seen one like this before.”
“Just be wary,” Fillion said. “They bite.”
Renata chuckled. “This way.” She led them to a large opening at the base of the spire.
Shadows played along the walls, dancing, as the lanterns moved in their hands. The tower of rock was wider than it had looked from the air. The passage angled downward to a large room. A wide ramp of soil and sand that ran along the right wall took them to the floor.
“That is where Xochi was born.” She pointed to a raised area in the sand. The ramp curved around it.
“What happened to her egg?” Sharrah looked around.
“Nayra disposed of it, in case curious eyes came through.” Renata shrugged. “She never leaves any evidence that dragons have been here.”
“Smart,” Cheddar said, nodding in approval. “If anyone ever comes through, better that there is nothing for them to see.”
“From discussions with Xochi about her memories,” Renata said, “I think the dragons used this as a kind of meeting room. At least when they lived here.” She looked up at the top of the ramp. “The speaker would stand up there while the others stood about here on the floor.”
“This sand is very fine.” Liara let it fall through her splayed fingers.
Odd sounds drew Aeron’s gaze.
Behind them, Anaya was rolling in the near-powder covering the floor.
“Are you . . . ” He stared at her. “Purring?”
This sand feels fantastically marvelous.
Aeron burst out laughing. “Fantastically marvelous, huh?”
“Balam, no!” Willem said, but it was too late.
All the dragons had joined Anaya. The dragonlinked backed away as sand flew. Their bond-mates gave off the same quick, stuttering rumbles, Anaya had. It wasn’t dragon laughter and it wasn’t their giggles either, it was much faster. They sounded, more than anything, like enormous cats, purring.
Willem let out a gusty breath and shook his head. “I’m going to have to brush you down again.”
Renata squatted and grabbed a handful. “You know, I never thought about it before, but this sand isn’t from around here. All we have is a much coarser river sand that is more like very tiny pebbles.”
Polandra said, “I suppose it could be from the Shining Sands.” She shrugged. “There are supposed to be hundreds of miles of enormous sand dunes there.”
“Possibly. But how did it get here?” Renata frowned. “And so much of it?” She glanced around the room. The entire floor was covered, much of it at least a foot-deep.
Aeron twisted his lips in thought. “You don’t suppose the dragons could have carried it here? Wasn’t this a dragon House a long time ago?”
“It was.” Renata nodded. “But, what? They carried it here handful by handful?”
I would. Anaya sat up, face and body dusted with the powdery sand. It is perfect to lay in, and is perfect for eggs.
We must do this at the new home. Xochi walked up to Renata and bumped the girl’s shoulder with her nose. My eggs will be laid in this sand.
Renata, a smile on her lips, made an awkward bow where she squatted. “As you command my lady.”
Xochi nodded once, made a satisfied harrumph sound, and returned to the other dragons where they played in the soft sand.
“Where did you live?” Liara looked around the big cavern.
“Oh, it’s this way.” Renata stood and led them down a passage.
The room was bare and large, though nowhere near as big as the other room. There was another tunnel to who knows where, and a large opening to the outside. The floor was more of dirt and gravel than anything else. A ring of stones, darkened by fire, sat near the center of the room. Cold ashes lay within.
As there wasn’t much to see, a few minutes later, they stood in the cave mouth staring out across the semi-arid desert.
“The Kas-Tella desert goes on just like this for miles and miles,” Renata said. “The farther you go west, though, the drier it becomes. Eventually you’ll hit the salt flats and beyond them, the Shining Sands.”
“This is where you lived, alone, for weeks?” Jessip looked about.
“Yes.”
Aeron glanced at Renata. That such a small word could carry so much weight. He looked back at the empty room. All alone, for over a month. No laundry, no Dining Hall, no water closets or a Bath Hall. Nothing. Just dirt, cacti, rocks, and the sun. And no one to talk to, either. He shook his head and turned to her. “You’re a pretty strong person.”
Renata’s gaze flicked from Aeron to Jessip and she smiled.
Jessip returned the smile. “So I keep telling her.”
“Can we go back to the top where we landed?” Fillion was digging in his carryall. “I think that would be the best place to use for portals.” He removed his gateway sketchbook. “I want to get back, soon, and see how Gregor’s getting on with his project.”
“Sure.” Renata led them back.
Aeron tilted his head. “Researching . . . salt was it?”
Fillion nodded. “Yeah, salt mixed with sand. He’s trying to determine which beach it came from.”
Aeron laughed as they followed Renata down the passage. “I don’t envy him that task. There are a lot of beaches, I would imagine.” He looked at Fillion. “Does this have anything to do with that trip the three of you took to Delcimaar?”
Fillion looked apprehensive. “Sort of,” he said. “We’re not supposed to talk about it.” He avoided their gazes as they walked along the tunnel. “I wish I could tell you guys about it, but we were given specific orders not to.”
“Orders?” Aeron’s brows rose. “From who?”
Fillion fidgeted. “Well, the Guildmaster for one, and—” He sighed. “I can’t say who else.”
Aeron grunted. Who could give them those kinds of orders? Hells, who could give them orders at all? It wasn’t Lord Baronel, he didn’t think. Fillion wouldn’t have hesitated to name the lord of the Caer.
“We’re heading back out to the top,” Aeron said in passing to Anaya. “As much as you guys like to lay in the sun, I’m surprised you all didn’t go back up there.”
The dragons sat up and stared at each other. After a unanimous chirp, they all followed.
Once outside, the dragonlinked began making their sketches.
“It’s a little barren, kind of,” Jessip said, large pad in one hand, pencil in the other. He was standing next to Renata. “Still, it’s beautiful. Like you.” He leaned closer to her.
She pushed him back, laughing. “Leave off, you big oaf. I’m trying to sketch this.”
Jessip laughed and resumed his drawing.
“He’s right,” Willem murmured.
Aeron looked at him.
“As desolate and, I don’t know—lonely?—as this place is, it has a certain majesty, almost.”
With a smile, Aeron said, “That it does.”
“It may sound silly . . .” Polandra said. Then she looked around at the others, and it seemed like she was embarrassed that she’d said anything.
“What?” Liara smiled.
Polandra cleared her throat. “I, ah, have this dream. A hope, I guess. Isandath told me of this place, of Renata staying in these caves as she waited for Nayra. So, Ikan and I visited here before we left for the North. I really like it here, and, it may be a silly dream, but, I want this place to once again be a home for dragons.” She looked up at the bright blue. “I want the sky to be full of them, spiraling, soaring, with happy voices calling to each other.”
That is not a silly dream. Ikan lifted his head and turned to his bond-mate.
“No,” Liara said, “it is not.”
As the others packed up their things, Willem walked over. “You be careful,” he said. “My heart nearl
y stopped when Balam told me Anaya had been attacked.”
“We will.” Aeron embraced him. “Hemet is almost new, so it will be fairly dark before Duvin rises tonight. We should be able to get close safely.”
When they separated, Willem said, “It feels like I’m going to have to take new measurements of everyone for new gear. The hand-to-hand training is building muscle.”
Aeron moved his arms around and felt the riding jacket tight at his shoulders, arms, and chest. He chuckled. “So it seems.”
Willem glanced at Polandra, a strange expression on his face. He turned to Anaya. “You be safe, too, hear? Bring yourself and Aeron home to us, after.”
Anaya chirped.
Aeron stared at Willem. What had that expression been?
Chapter 7
Minday, Primory 1, 1875.
Evening
Elbows on the desk, Millinith rested her face in her hands. Earlier, she spoke to the guards. While on duty, they were not to leave their posts under any circumstances unless instructed to do so. There would be no more attacks on dragons if she could help it.
The damage to the loading stable wasn’t too great. Master Doronal and the two sorcerers had arrived in time to stop the fire before it spread too far. All the hay that had been stored outside was ruined, however. The stench of burnt grass was thick in all of it. Most of the horses wouldn’t go anywhere near the hay that survived, so it was thrown in the Caer compost heaps. And the smell of burned wood meant the horses had to be put in stalls on the south side of the loading stables, away from where the fire had been. Hopefully the scent of smoke on the north end of the building would clear soon. All the wood that had actually been burned had been removed, and even at this hour, sounds of workers finishing up repairs could be heard.
All that damage, all the potential lives lost, horse or otherwise, had merely been a diversion for the attempt on Anaya’s life. The attack left Millinith feeling violated. Someone had come into their home, the place she felt safe, and tried to kill one of their own.
She completely agreed with Aeron, Willem, and the others. If she could, she’d have them fly to Bataan-Mok and beat the Nesch to within and inch of his life. She couldn’t, however. Thanks to Renata and Polandra, they knew a little of what manisi were capable of. Millinith was not going to send any one of her people there until she knew more about where things stood with the Order.
Perhaps Cheddar could check if there was anything in the Caer library about the organization. Any information on them would serve. She hoped Isandath would have something for Polandra and Aeron.
Her stomach rumbled and she frowned. There hadn’t been time yet to eat dinner.
She raised her head. “Damn.” Had they taken any food with them?
The door creaked open. Looking over, she saw a young man poke his head in the room. “Pardon me. Guildmaster Millinith? The guards said this was the place.” His light-brown hair, almost a sandy blond, was clipped short.
“I am she. How can I help you?” Was he was another candidate hopeful?
“Excellent.” He closed the door behind him and approached her. “My name is Liflin, Adept Sorcerer Liflin. I do apologize for the hour. The stage threw a wheel this morning and put us half a day behind. Master Enora said I should come see about a position in the guild.”
“You know Enora?”
“She was one of my instructors, actually.”
Enora? An instructor? Well, perhaps it wasn’t so far-fetched. Enora had been good at keeping on Millinith to study. She smiled. “How is she doing?”
“Uh, well, I guess?” He shrugged.
Millinith chuckled. “I’m sorry. Of course you wouldn’t know much of the personal lives of your instructors.” She leaned back in the chair. “We do have openings for instructors of our own, as it stands. I assume you are applying for one of those positions?”
“Yes, ma’am.”
“How old are you, Adept Liflin?”
“Seventeen, ma’am.”
“Have you any background in Animal Craft?”
“Yes, ma’am, I do. Journeyman rank.”
“Outstanding. Our instructors will need cross-training. They all need to be at least familiar with the various disciplines the candidates will be learning.”
“Candidates?”
“Our guild’s term for accepted who will eventually become dragonlinked. Not all accepted will.”
“I see.” He nodded. “What other crafts will I be cross-trained in?” He raised a hand. “Ah, should I be hired, of course.”
“Leather Craft, Investigation Craft, and Healing Craft. At least for now. We’re still learning about dragons ourselves, truth be told.”
An enormous smile spread across his face. “Dragons.” He shook his head. “We heard about the guild, of course. But if I hadn’t seen a few outside, I’d imagine this was all some fantastic dream.”
Millinith smiled. “It may seem like a dream, many times. And sometimes, perhaps a nightmare.”
“Nightmare?”
“Earlier today, someone tried to kill one of our dragons.”
“What?” A faint pulse of magic came from him.
“Calm yourself, Liflin. The man was . . . dealt with. He will not trouble us ever again.”
The magic faded. “Why would anyone . . . I mean . . . dragons are so . . .” He shook his head. “Why?”
“There is apparently an organization that feels dragons are evil.” She opened a drawer and removed an employment application.
“Evil?”
She handed him the form. “Fill this out. If you’re approved—and if Enora recommended you to come, I think you very well might be—we can talk more about the interesting life of a Dragon Craft member.”
Millinith explained where the Housing Hall was and who to speak with there and sent Liflin on his way. At least he was qualified. There were many who’d inquired that had no useful skills whatsoever.
Master Doronal walked in from the dragon den. “I see you had a visitor.” He carried a large tray heaped high with food and drink.
She laughed. “What are you doing?”
“You need to eat.”
She raised a brow. “Oh?”
“You’re too thin, and you’re not getting enough sleep, I think. You look terrible.”
“I don’t look terrible.” She crossed her arms and slouched in the chair. “Besides, I’ve been a little busy.” She’d only skipped—what?—one or two meals? Hmm. No, it was actually more than that. As Master Doronal set the tray on one of the tables and began unloading it, she took a quick glimpse at her arms and hands. They were thin. And he’d noticed.
“Get over here and eat, Guildmaster.” He smiled at her. “It’s a little humorous, don’t you think, me getting after you for not eating?”
She grunted and stood. “You used to skip meals all the time.” Walking over, she stared at the fare spread out on the table. “Good gods, man, do you expect me to eat all that?”
“Sit.” He pointed to the chair in front of her. “I’ll be joining you for dinner, if that’s alright?”
She paused in sitting down and looked up at him. “Oh. No, that would actually be nice.” She sat and scooted the chair closer to the table. “You carried all this from the Dining Hall?”
“Honestly? It was pretty heavy.” He chuckled. “It’s worth it, though.” He glanced at her and back at his meal. “I, ah, could use the exercise.”
She raised a brow. “Exercise. Right.”
They ate, talked, and laughed, and she groused about various things, voiced her concerns about others, and through it all, relaxed.
+ + + + +
“Shrewd. That’s what you are.”
Takatin swirled the wine in his goblet. The man wasn’t wrong.
“Retaining the rights to minerals, ores, and such, on the purchased land was brilliant.” Pivin smiled. “It makes my boss frown every time he remembers it.”
“That kind of provision isn’t unusual. And twenty percen
t is not that much. National Transportation gets the dragon’s share at eighty percent.” Takatin sipped from the goblet. “Who knew something so interesting would be found on land deemed nearly worthless.”
“Something so profitable. And dangerous.” Pivin’s gaze hadn’t changed much, and his lips still curved in a slight smile, but he suddenly looked sinister.
Takatin looked down at the goblet. Profitable? The money meant nothing to him. But he had to keep up appearances for now. “Wonderfully profitable, yes. And as I’ve told you before, my people will keep the true nature of what was discovered from the rest of the Order. So have no fear on that point.” He looked up. “It is humorous, though. Just after its founding, the Corpus Order was actually given this land because no one thought it of much use.”
Pivin grunted. “It’s valuable for its location alone. Once the mine is played out, we’ll return to building the rail line. Unlike mules or horses, our locomotives can cross the desert easily and quickly here. Locomotives don’t get sick, either.” The man frowned.
When he’d first approached the Corpus Order, Takatin had Pivin shuffled around to various umeri, hoping he’d get frustrated and leave. He had not, however, and Takatin eventually had to meet with the man. It turned out to be one of the more fortuitous moments of Takatin’s life.
Pivin had explained their desire to build metal rails, tracks, across the desert, and why. National Transportation had nearly been wiped out by the equine flu. If it weren’t that they’d already begun working with the new locomotives, the company would have failed. They wanted to buy a narrow strip of land across the flats and were prepared to pay a good amount. Takatin saw in this proposal a way to further strengthen his plans: money. So he’d made a side-agreement with the company and then shepherded the land purchase through the umeri voting process. He’d since learned that National Transportation had made use of less than legal means to get to where they stood now. Not that Takatin cared. They’d serve their purpose.
He looked at Piven and nodded. “Getting goods to and from the far South without having to go hundreds or thousands of miles around the desert will save a great deal time.”
A Storm in the Desert: Dragonlinked Chronicles Voume 3 Page 12