Dragonlinks Read Free

investigate. The next one might bark first and sniff later.
    Reculemoon was all but eclipsed as she took a leather-bound sheaf of star charts and a tiny flask of wormglow from her bag. As the last of the light faded from the sky the city itself seemed to become hushed as well; then the constellations of stars blazed out from the black sky.
    The fantail of the bird of paradise was near the zenith,while Delotia the Huntress was half above the horizon, her hair in breaking waves of fine stars.
    Jelindel had only a handful of seconds to marvel at the celestial masterpiece before a sharp yelp of alarm pierced the night’s silence and made her sit bolt upright. She looked about for the source of the noise but the entire city was shrouded in the dark veil of the eclipse.
    A dog? The dogs only bark for a good reason, she thought, as she glanced across to the tall house where two windows showed lights. Why only a single yelp? If they had caught a real intruder there would be barking and growling and the screams of someone being torn apart. All was quiet now, so whatever it was, it was not important.
    Jelindel turned back to the sky, greedily sweeping her eyes over the glorious spectacle. This sight was worth any punishment, any discomfort, she thought; then her lips whispered dreamily: ‘This is true freedom and absolute beauty. I want this to last forever.’
    A shriek echoed out from the mansion, shattering the hushed darkness of the eclipse. It was a cry of complete terror, and from a woman’s throat. Immediately, clashing weapons began an irregular, discordant chime.
    Jelindel stood up on the wooden shingles, realising that something terrible was happening but scarcely able to believe it. There were more screams, and cries of pain that were cut short. The thief-bell began to ring, then the entire ground floor of the mansion burst into flames as if it had been soaked in lamp oil.
    Jelindel froze. Panic hovered just above her, then descended and paralysed her limbs. Her heart hammered urgently, but she was unable even to cry out.
    Something monstrous was happening, something so terrible that it was beyond her understanding. There was one final scream and the bell stopped ringing. Now she clambered shakily down off the stable roof and in among the bushes of the garden. As she pushed her way through some greenberry shrubs, dark figures began leaping from windows. Their forms were lithe shadows outlined by the hungry flames.
    Through sheer instinct rather than terror, Jelindel crouched and remained still. She counted six of the deathly dark shapes. They merged in and out of the shadows cast in the garden by the fire, making splotches of dark on the lawn as the dogs had done. Jelindel’s eyes widened. They were footfall spells: enchantments to change sound to blots of darkness.
    Jelindel knew at once that these were lindraks, the royal assassins. Where were the bullhounds? she wondered in despair. Even those soft-treading, deathly quiet intruders could not have got past the bullhounds.
    Five lindraks flowed soundlessly over a wall, like shadows that had been cast by drifting smoke. The last one slowed, stopped, then turned in Jelindel’s direction.

Chapter
2

    I t was during the first month of 2128 that the Preceptor of Skelt received his mysterious guest. His visitor had somehow skirted official channels and had arrived unannounced. The Preceptor would see that heads would roll for this imposition. However, for now he would attend to the stranger.
    The dragonlink lay on a cushion of green velvet between the Preceptor and his guest. It had a bright, silvery sheen sprinkled with highlights of colour, and was larger than most chainmail links. It might have been an ornamental ring, yet it was still slightly small as rings went.
    The guest hall of the Preceptor’s fortress was lit by four terracotta lamps on lipshelves, and by a single candle on a brass stand beside the dinner table. Unseasonable rain and a cold