“Got it.” I pulled back, securing the sample in a collection pouch.Did you see how the seeds dispersed?
Like snow.
Exactly like snow.My mind raced. Seeds that light would travel on wind currents, settle in valleys during certain atmospheric conditions. They also might be stirred up during temperature changes.
But it couldn’t be the flowers. There were too few of them, and the geographic distribution didn’t match what I’d seen at Silvervale.
Still. I’d found something worth documenting.
We continued upward, stopping at three different sites. At each one, I collected soil and vegetation samples and used my magic to gauge air quality readings and mineral deposits. Raoul problem-solved with me, suggesting approaches I hadn’t considered, holding position in challenging wind currents and even shifting back to his usual form once so I could use him as an anchor while I leaned out over a particularly treacherous drop.
“Don’t let go,” I said, my voice tight as I stretched toward the rock formation I needed to sample.
“Never.” One hand gripped the back of my pants, and he’d wrapped his other arm around my waist. “I’ve got you.”
The trust between us had become absolute.
At the highest peak, I stood beside a tall pillar carved from golden stone that caught the afternoon sun. I turned in a slow circle, taking in the view. From here, I could see Silvervale’s silver peaks in the distance, the valley between them, plus determine how air currents might flow through this geography.
“The timing,” I said, pulling out my notes from Silvervale. “The sun hits here later, which shifts when the temperature changes occur, which shifts when the air currents reverse.”
“Is that significant?” Raoul stood close, his warmth comforting in the thin, cold air.
“Maybe.” I chewed on my bottom lip. “Everything points to something carried on wind currents that settles at certain elevations during specific conditions. But I can’t identify what.”
“You will.”
“Babies are suffering. Courts are threatening each other. And I’m collecting samples like I have all the time in the world.”
“You’re collecting evidence so you can ensure you’re not missing anything. If it’s environmentally related, you want to implement the right solution instead of guessing and potentially making things worse.” His amber eyes held mine. “That’s doing the work properly.”
I wanted to believe him, but the weight of all those desperate parents, all those sneezing, coughing babies, pressed down on my chest.
“I’m missing something obvious,” I whispered. “I can feel it.”
“Then we’ll keep looking until you find it.”
We flew back to Goldwing as the sun lowered toward the horizon, painting the sky in shades of orange and gold. By the time Raoul landed in the courtyard, we were both tired.
But I had a cave system to explore.
We went down into the lower cave system, but the wind currents were wrong, flowing away from where the dragon shifter families lived, not toward them.
“It can’t be this. It must be something outside, in the mountain range,” I said. “Let’s go back to our suite and I’ll analyze the data.”
He flew me out through a cave and took me up to the courtyard, where we made our way to our rooms.
Our suite felt too quiet after the wind and open sky. I spread my samples from both courts across the table, adding notes from both sets of interviews and sketches of vegetation and geology.
Raoul ordered food brought up and sat across from me, watching as I worked.
“It could be an altitude-based allergen,” I said, talking through my thoughts. “Something that exists only at certain elevations and gets stirred up by wind patterns. It settles during calm periods.”
“That matches the timing.”
“But it doesn’t explain why both courts are affected at different elevations. Silvervale’s dwellings are higher than Goldwing’s, yet the symptoms are similar. If it’s purely altitude-based, the patterns should be different.”
I crossed out that theory and moved to the next. “Seasonal plant bloom. Something that flowers now, then releases pollen or seeds that become airborne.”
