The Dragon Nimbus Novels: Volume I: Volume I

without the length of twisted wood.
    But the staff was gone and he was alone. Jaylor had only himself to count on, or blame, for this night’s work.
    The small gate by the kitchen midden was easy to find, since he knew where to look. Elder Librarian had done his work well in providing the original building plans for the castle.
    The sky was black; no moon showed through the clouds during this bleak hour after midnight. The cooks and drudges would all be asleep. He must work his magic and leave before they arose for their morning baking.
    He slid through the dark halls, one hand on the cold stone walls, counting his steps, memorizing his path. The great hall was at the top of a narrow stair. A tapestry to his left was the entrance to the banquet hall, formerly a soldiers barracks. Opposite that opening was a thick, locked door.
    The lock snapped under his mental probe. The door to the wine cellar at the University had been harder to open. Krej must not fear intrusion. The lock was merely for show.
    The smell of the Tambootie wood paneling assaulted Jaylor’s senses. It filled his head and made the constant craving for the leaves of the tree deepen. But there was no change in the amount of magic he controlled.
    Cautiously he moved toward the menacing figures on display. He recognized the great tusker and gray bear from Brevelan’s descriptions. There was an empty pedestal that must have held the spotted saber cat—the one Krej had released to entice Darville into the mountains. Other figures loomed about him, but he didn’t take the time to investigate.
    And there, in the center, rearing up on hind legs, wings half unfurled, was Shayla. Starlight from a dozen open windows glistened through the glass dragon. She shimmered as if alive, just waiting to pounce on her prey.
    Jaylor swallowed. His quest was nearly ended. He just had to break this one last spell!
    He turned away from Shayla so that he saw her only by sliding his eyes far to the left. The bundle of his staff in both upraised hands, he counted his breaths. In—one, two, three. Hold—one, two, three. Out—one, two, three. In again, hold it three. Out for three counts. His heartbeat matched his breathing. His mind and body stilled and prepared.
    Blue lines of power slipped before his vision. He found one that pulsed in tune with his heart and lungs. It flowed through him with ease.
    Vibrations of magic trembled in his hands and along the pieces of wood. He aimed the jagged ends of them at the glass sculpture slightly behind and to his left. Silver-blue webs encircled his fingers and reached out to every corner of the room until they found the glass dragon.
    The magic encircling Shayla hummed and wavered. The dragon blinked in surprise. She fought the spells woven around her.
    Jaylor pushed more power through his body. He felt himself rising to the heavens with the magic that was all around him.
    The humming grew louder, shriller. His ears hurt, his mind reeled as his heart beat faster and faster until it would no longer be contained within his frail body. Shayla fought him, fought all the magic. Her eyes grew larger, her mouth tried to open.
    With one last, mighty shriek Jaylor crashed to the ground and Shayla froze.
     
    “Jaylor!” Brevelan wrapped her arms around the staggering magician. Dawn crept through the windows as she led him to the nearest chair. “Where have you been for two days and nights?” Her fingers checked his pulse as she pushed aside his soggy cloak.
    His breathing was ragged and his heart irregular. Exhaustion left his skin gray and tight.
    “I failed. I’m sorry.” Tears flowed down his cheeks in the dried path of others that had been shed earlier.
    “Shayla. You’ve been to Krej’s castle, alone?” Darville marched into the sitting room from the sleeping chamber. He hadn’t slept anymore than Brevelan had these past two nights.
    Brevelan eased a lock of hair off Jaylor’s forehead, checking for fever. His eyes were too bright, his pulse too rapid. “You need food and rest,” she commanded as she beckoned Darville to help their companion into bed.
    “I’ll not sleep. If I do, I’ll dream of Shayla, trapped within the glass forever. She tried so hard to be free it nearly broke my heart.” Jaylor dropped his head into his hands, his body racked with sobs.
    “What went wrong?” Darville began to pace along the same path he had nearly worn into the hearth carpet since Jaylor’s midnight departure. His boots