A Storm in the Desert: Dragonlinked Chronicles Voume 3 (55 page)

He chuckled. “None taken, Guildmaster.”

“Why do you need seven representatives, Mill? What happened?”

Millinith blew air through pursed lips. “It’s not an easy or quick thing to explain. Do you have some time? Perhaps we can talk over some coffee. It would give me an opportunity to catch Adept Oran up as well.”

Enora smiled. “I know just the place.”

An hour later, Millinith took another sip and set the delicate demitasse down. It was her second cup of the excellent beverage. Enora had been right. This cafe in the Whispering Boughs made damn good coffee.

“And so,” Millinith said, “here we are.”

“I can see why you wanted assistance.” Adept Oran tapped a finger on the rim of his cup and then looked up.  “Aeron and Anaya are unharmed?”

“Some scrapes and bruises,” Millinith said, “but that is all.” She continued staring at him. “The portal spell is a bit of a craft secret at the moment, so I’d like you to keep word of it to yourself for the time being.”

Eyes on her, he twisted his lips. After a few seconds, he nodded and said, “As you say, Guildmaster.”

“I’ll make a formal report of it to the Magic Craft Guild at some point,” she said, “but I think even they will want its knowledge to be controlled.”

“What of the Animal Craft Guild?” Enora asked. “Whether or not they believe dragons are people, dragons are certainly animals, and uncommon ones at that. Would the guild not have something to say about them being killed?”

“I’ll certainly ask them for help, but I had hoped to get more sorcerers in case we need to protect ourselves.”

“A not altogether unwarranted concern,” Adept Oran said. “You’re dealing with a quasi-religious group with strong beliefs, after all. Beliefs that paint many of your guild’s members as inherently evil.”

“The Corpus Order is a business,” Millinith said, “not a religious order, but they have certainly proven they will resort to violence. At least Nesch Takatin has.”

“So,” Enora said, “you’re just going to show up at their doorstep with as many sorcerers as you can muster and . . . just ask them to stop killing dragons?”

Millinith chuckled. “Yes. Well, not exactly. We do want them to stop, but many minds will need to be changed there first. That’s what these talks are designed to do. In the meantime, Capu Cirtis, the leader of the Order, is coordinating with an internal group to learn everything they can about Nesch Takatin. Together, we’ll work to thwart the man’s plan to destroy the Corpus Order.”

“Wait, what?” Adept Oran sat forward. “Wouldn’t their end secure the safety of dragons?”

“It would,” Millinith allowed. “However, there is more to the Corpus Order than just killing dragons. Bataan-Mok is the economic center of the region.”

“A sort of Delcimaar of the South,” Enora murmured.

“Actually,” Fillion said as he grabbed another cookie from the silver tray, “yeah. Though on a smaller scale.”

Millinith raised a brow. What was he doing with them? He wasn’t eating them all. “If the Order goes into dissolution,” she said, “it would be catastrophic for the villages that depend on them for so much.”

Enora nodded. “Alright, so you save the Order. Then what?”

“We do what we’ve had to do over and over. Show the Order that nahual are the things they should be fighting. Capu Cirtis has been working for years to change their attitudes. He’s going to scale his efforts up with our help. When he thinks the Order is ready, we’re going to meet with them for those talks I mentioned and show them the true nature of dragons.”

Enora drummed her fingers on the linen tablecloth. “Was the number of sorcerers, six or seven, chosen for a particular reason?”

“With the number of our own people going, that’s how many extra we would be able to take with us.”

“I see.” She continued drumming her fingers. “If I were to dig up a few interested sorcerers, would that help?”

Millinith narrowed her eyes. “It would, yes.”

Enora smiled. “Let me see what I can do, then. Give me your guild’s ‘writer information so I can contact you in a day or two.”

The four spent some time exchanging pleasantries and finished the last pot of coffee before it was time to leave.  After some goodbyes, Enora headed back to the Magic Craft Guildhall, while they grabbed a carriage back to the Bureau of Guilds and Coatl.

Millinith stared at the moving view of Delcimaar through the carriage window. If Enora could provide some sorcerers, that would be fantastic.

“Enora seems nice,” Fillion said.

Millinith glanced at him. Seated across from her, he, too, stared out the window.

She smiled and returned to watching the city pass by. “Master Enora is an old friend. We traveled together to Caer Baronel, actually. She left—I guess it was almost two years ago—and came here to study for her Magic Craft mastery.” Gods. Two years? Where had the time gone?

Fillion grunted. “You and masters.”

“Hmm?” Millinith turned to him.

He cleared his throat. “When do you suppose we’ll return to Bataan-Mok?”

“I’m not sure. It depends on how quickly Capu Cirtis can get them ready. A week? Two?”

“How many will be going?”

“If we assign three riders each, that’s eighteen. Assuming we have that many to take, of course.”

“Coatl can handle four. And so can Ikan.” Fillion chuckled a moment later. Coatl must have said something to him.

Millinith nodded. “That will give us more flexibility.”

“Ikan? Coatl?” Adept Oran looked from one to the other.

“Dragons,” Fillion said. “My bond-mate’s name is Coatl. You’re going to get first-hand experience with portal traveling.”

“Oh.” The young man looked nervous.

“Not to worry,” Millinith said. “Dragons are quite safe to travel on. Although,” she frowned, “I’m not sure we have enough riding belts.”

“We do.” Fillion didn’t take his eyes from the window. “I have three packed in the saddle bags. Like I said, Coatl can carry up to four, at least short distances, so I keep three belts handy.”

“Perfect.”

“How, ah, high do they fly? Dragons?”

“Coatl and I have been over three thousand feet up, before.”

Oran’s gulp was audible.

Fillion pulled open a snap on his right wrist. “I don’t know exactly how much, though, as the altitude meters we use only have indicators per hundred feet. There’s probably a limit to how high is safe, too, as the air gets thinner, harder to breathe, the higher you go. That’s why we started wearing these a few months back.” He smiled and snapped the leather cover closed. “Before that, we had to guess our altitude, based on experience with things that we knew the height of.”

Millinith gave Fillion a look. “We won’t be going anywhere near that high, however. One hundred feet up to the portal and then back down, is all.”

The young auditor didn’t look to be very relieved. “Where did you get those, ah, altitude meter things?”

“They were special-ordered,” Millinith said. “I believe balloonists and mountain climbers use them.”

At the mention of aeronauts, Adept Oran got even paler. “I saw balloons once, at a Day of Rest festival. They were charging ten mil for a ride. You’d get in this . . . this basket, which looked to be woven out of grass, and then they’d take you up into the sky maybe a hundred or two hundred feet. The balloon stayed up there for some minutes, for who knows what reason, before being pulled back down.” He shivered. “I did not partake.”

Fillion, it looked like, was trying hard not to laugh.

“The balloons were amazing to look at, though, all over the sky at various heights. It was quite a sight.”

The carriage slowed and stopped. They were back at the Bureau of Guilds. Millinith stepped out into the plaza. There was a small crowd near Coatl, kept back several dozen feet by the guards. After Millinith paid the driver, the three of them made their way over to the resting dragon.

Raising his head, he chirped at their approach.

Millinith nodded to the guards in passing.

“They’re real.” Adept Oran stared at Coatl.

Fillion said, “Of course dragons are real.”

“No,” Oran chuckled. “I mean, I know they’re real. I just didn’t
know
they were real. You hear about them, read about them, just like buffalo or, I don’t know, elephants. But until you see one in the flesh . . .” He stared at Coatl for a moment. “They’re bigger than I thought.”

Millinith studied the dark brown dragon. “He’s only a little bigger than a large horse.”

“Well,” Fillion said, “as far as his body, yes. But then there’s his tail and those amazing wings. Anaya and Ikan are even bigger, you know.”

“And he can carry all of us?” Oran didn’t look like he thought it possible.

You need not worry. Flying on me will be safe.

Adept Oran took a step back. “He said that?”

“Careful, Coatl,” Fillion said. “We don’t want to draw in people who hear you.”

I am keeping the sendings close. Only we will hear.

“They’re intelligent?”

Fillion turned to Oran. “Weren’t you listening when we talked about them being people?”

“I was, but . . .”

“Until you hear it and see it?” Millinith said, a tiny smile curving her lips.

Adept Oran glanced at her and then back at Coatl. “Yeah.”

Millinith turned to the dragon. Aeron had talked about people’s reactions to Anaya while she was chained in the courtyard at Bataan-Mok. Maybe Adept Oran was onto something. She thought on how that could be used.

“Master Gella’s here?” Fillion glanced at Coatl, then looked behind them. “And with someone.”

A carriage pulled up, horseshoes and wheels clacking on the flagstones.

Millinith raised her brows. Why would the investigator be here?

Gella, dressed as she usually was, stepped out. A person of light build followed. A long, hooded cloak kept the unknown individual’s face in shadow. Gella acted strangely as they walked over. Her gaze kept darting from one place to another, to the guards, the crowd, and more. She took in everything, as if she were nervous about something.

Millinith said, “Good afternoon, Master Gella. I wasn’t expecting to see you today. How did you know we were here?”

“Good afternoon,” Gella said. “Let’s just say that I got a whisper in my ear that you were in the city.” She eyed the sorcerer adept.  “And who might this be?”

“This is Auditor Oran, from the Magic Craft Guild.”

The young man bowed his head. “Ma’am.”

Millinith looked at Gella, raised her brows, and pointedly stared at the hooded person.

Gella glanced at the cloaked individual and said, “This is my . . . friend, Ana.”

The woman lowered the hood of her cloak. She was older than Millinith by perhaps ten or fifteen years, but she’d not lost the vibrancy of youth. There was something about her eyes, however. Though they sparkled with her small smile, there was sadness in their depths. Those eyes had seen much.

“You must be Guildmaster Millinith, yes?”

Millinith nodded. “I am.”

“And you must be Dragonlinked Fillion.”

He bowed his head. “Ma’am.”

“And that means you . . .” She turned to the mahogany dragon. “You are Coatl.” The look of awe took years from her and she appeared a young girl. “You’re even more magnificent than Gella said.”

Coatl let out a very pleased rumble.
You are pretty. Your hair matches my hide.

Ana lifted a lock of hair from her shoulder. “It does, doesn’t it?” She hesitantly raised a hand toward him. “If you would permit it, I’d like to . . . touch you.”

Of course, my lady.

Millinith glanced at Coatl. Why had he called her that?

Ana walked over and touched Coatl’s cheek. Then she ran her hand down his neck and across his shoulder. “Amazing.”

Coatl unfurled his wings and held them out.

Ana made a delighted sound and hurried to the right wing. She ran her fingers over the delicate membrane.

“Show-off,” Fillion said. Though he sounded annoyed, his face shone with pride.

“I don’t suppose I could fly on him?” She looked at Fillion. “Just a short trip around the plaza?”

“My—” Gella took a step toward her. “Ana, please.”

“Gella, you’ve ridden on him all over the world for your investigation with no issues. I will do this.” Her tone indicated that she would tolerate no argument.

The muscles in Gella’s jaws worked. “As you wish.” She stepped back. Her gaze continued to take in everyone around them as if she expected some kind of attack.

Millinith had never seen Gella so out of sorts. Taking her own look around the plaza, she wondered what was making the woman so nervous.

It took a few moments to explain the riding belt and for Ana to strap it on, but within five minutes, they were flying around the plaza. Every now and then, delighted gasps and excited exclamations came from above. Gella looked upset the entire time.