A Storm in the Desert: Dragonlinked Chronicles Voume 3 by Adolfo Garza Jr.

expression?”
    The Guildmaster nodded. “Describe it.”
    The healer looked at the man’s face. “Ah, yes. I see what you mean. There is no expression. It’s blank, as if he were sleeping.”
    “Exactly.” Her attitude changed, became more brisk. “Alright, we’ve examined all we can on the outside. It is time to see what we discover inside. If you could start with the feet? We’ll look at each one, going up the leg to the abdomen, then we’ll do the hands in similar fashion.”
    Gregor nodded.
    Fillion felt a pulse of power and a ghostly image appeared, floating a foot over the body.
    Master Gella let out a quiet grunt, but merely watched the glowing likeness.
    “His right foot and leg first,” Gregor said.
    He and the Guildmaster studied the projection intently before it was adjusted higher up the leg. Bone, tendon, muscle, fat, veins and such, all were clearly visible. Everything got a once-over by the two. When the legs were done, they moved on to the arms, then the torso, and lastly the neck and head.
    Fillion vaguely recognized some of the internals from Animal Craft lessons, but most of what was shown in the softly glowing enchantment was only familiar to him in a general sense. He’d have no way of knowing if anything were out of place.
    “Hmm.” Gregor frowned at the image, then looked down and pressed the man’s cheek. “What’s this?”
    Fillion couldn’t believe what Gregor did next.
    With an expression of curiosity, Gregor pried the jaws open and stuck his fingers in the dead man’s mouth, fishing around inside. “There’s something tucked between the teeth and right cheek . . .”
    Fillion shivered and let out a quiet sound.
    “What have we here?” Gregor removed a small item.
    Master Gella stepped closer. She looked surprised and intensely curious.
    With his other hand, Gregor dug around in the examination kit and pulled out what looked like gauze. After wiping off the mystery item, he proceeded to unroll it, or unwrap it.
    “It’s falling apart,” he said.
    “Be careful!” Master Gella knelt next to him.
    He placed the soggy item on the floor and, with two wooden probes he removed from the kit, carefully spread it open.
    “It’s two pages from his notebook,” Master Gella said. “But they’re disintegrating, dissolving with his saliva.”
    Guildmaster Millinith’s brows drew together. “Notebook?”
    Master Gella stared at the pages a moment, then turned to the Guildmaster. “Is your examination of the body complete?”
    “Yes, though we found nothing out of the ordinary beyond the lump on his head and that.” The Guildmaster gestured to the wet paper scraps.
    “I see,” Master Gella said. “Then you should examine the nahual tracks outside.”
    Guildmaster Millinith looked surprised. “There are nahual tracks?”
    “I assume that is what they are.” Master Gella stood. To Gregor she said, “Leave those for now. Once they’ve dried a bit, we can examine them further.” With that, the investigator walked out the open door to the back yard.
    Fillion followed Guildmaster Millinith and Gregor outside.
    “There aren’t many, there’s almost no snow, but there are a few there,” Master Gella pointed to a woodpile, “and at the fence line there.” She indicated the back of the yard. “There are also some on the other side of the cottage, as if it were circling the house, stalking.”
    Guildmaster Millinith twisted her lips. She and Gregor headed to the tracks at the woodpile. They walked back and forth along the short strip of snow for a while, then moved to the tracks by the fence. Why they had to study them for so long, Fillion had no idea. His stomach rumbled and he wondered how long past noon it now was.
    The countryside around the cottage was actually kind of beautiful. There were plenty of wooded areas nearby, they dotted the land here and there, and if he remembered right, there was a small stream off in . . . that direction. He turned toward a tall