The Dragon Nimbus Novels: Volume I: Volume I

of his own. It, in turn, was pushed back toward him. This was no failed magician put out to pasture! But for whom did he use his power?
    “Adderroot is a poison I know of. Which is witchbane?” Jaylor decided to test this man for reaction. If he showed suspicion at the combination, then he knew of the healer’s attempt to poison Brevelan.
    “Witchbane?” The librarian moved to one of the long lines of his beloved books. “Witchbane? I’ve heard the name but not in a very long time.” He rummaged behind a few books and withdrew a very old one. “This might tell us.” He blew dust from the spine and cover reverently.
    “The healer sent by the gatekeeper tried to give some to Brevelan last night.” Suddenly Jaylor had to trust the old man who counted books as dearer friends than his fellow elders.
    “Oh, dear!” Elder Librarian paled. “I suspected our enemy had placed spies within our midst. I had no idea it was someone so highly respected.”
    “Or so trusted by all. Isn’t he the same healer who was consulted when the king’s heart fluttered and nearly failed a few years ago?” Suddenly Krej’s master plan fell into place. “Has he been slowly killing the king?”
    “Possibly,” Elder Librarian whispered, as if afraid to utter such treason. “I thought the destruction of the dragon nimbus was responsible.”
    So this old man was aware of the loss of the dragons, too.
    “But only Darcine’s health is in question. His son is hale and hearty, strong and determined.” Jaylor began pacing, making sure his steps stayed close to the lines of power he sensed beneath the stone floors.
    “Darville was never consecrated. His tie is not as tight to the dragons.”
    Jaylor began talking to himself, straightening his thoughts with each word. “The bond is tight enough for one dragon to risk everything to protect him.” He stopped by the window. In spite of the chill rain outside he had opened the shutters earlier. As always, the confines of a building destroyed his ability to think creatively. He leaned out to look down onto the massive courtyard. Cool rain pelted his face and cleared the fog from his thought processes more than mere words could.
    “But that, too, was part of his plan. Our enemy had no hope of finding and snaring the last dragon without the prince. That was why he lured him into the mountains, then tried to kill him. It was a trap for the dragon!” He paced to the next window and threw those shutters open also.
    “A trap delayed by the intervention of a witchwoman.” His words came out loud enough for the old man to hear. Silence pulsated between them as they thought, trying to find the logic in one so warped as Krej.
    “Where does her magic come from?” Elder Librarian’s eyes looked innocent. His questions seemed to be just to satisfy the insatiable curiosity of a man dedicated to books and knowledge.
    “She believes Krej to be her true father. You noted the hair color. Krej’s mother is from another land. Who knows what kind of magic talent, or lack of ethics, she passed on to her son?”
    “Krej! It can’t be. Why, Brevelan must be at least eighteen, maybe older. If Krej were truly her father . . . he was barely sixteen himself, just a new journeyman when she was born. I knew him then. His powers increased until the day he left the University at twenty. He was married within the moon. Since then he could have no magic!”
    Jaylor couldn’t help grinning. “Sex and magic have very little to do with each other.” He knew that for certain, now.
    If anything, his powers had increased, or was that the Tambootie he still craved.
    “We have not yet found witchbane in the book.” Elder Librarian looked away first.
    Jaylor grinned at his embarrassment. Magic, old and new, he could discuss with this respected elder, sex he couldn’t. “No, we haven’t found a reference to witchbane.”
    Jaylor tried to comb his hair with his fingers. It was neatly tied back into a courtly queue. He scraped his jaw with his hand instead. That, too, felt strange without the beard he’d grown used to. Now he was groomed as a magician should be. Even before he was bathed, shaved, and combed to look like a master magician, he felt that he was a master. He just didn’t have a cloak to prove it.
    And there wasn’t much of a Commune left to grant him that honor.
    “But what you really need is a book on unraveling spells when you don’t know how they’ve been thrown.” Elder Librarian