The Dragon Nimbus Novels: Volume I: Volume I

trampled a garden of faded woven flowers.
    “Nothing, everything. I couldn’t use my staff. There were traps in the magic, more traps than I’d planned for.”
    Jaylor didn’t resist Brevelan’s attempts at comfort. He was too preoccupied to notice the tune she hummed. She forced strength and peace through her fingers into his scalp as she massaged his temples and brow.
    “We’ve overcome his traps before.” Darville stopped his pacing.
    “Not like this one. Trapping Shayla in glass was probably the greatest piece of magic ever thrown. Breaking that spell would be even greater. I’m not even a master yet, how could I be so arrogant as to think I could accomplish anything close to Krej’s power?”
    “Stop that, Jaylor!” Brevelan ordered. “You’re tired and temporarily defeated. But you’ve already accomplished great things. You’ll break the spell. You just need more time and a little help.” She drew him up to stand beside her. “Now off to bed while I fix a hot meal. When you’ve slept, we’ll try something new.” She couldn’t allow him to see the worry she felt for him. He’d never been this self-doubting. Many ailments of the spirit she could heal. This one was deeply rooted, feeding itself with memories of every failure from his youth.
    “You don’t understand, beloved. If I don’t manage to break the spell, Shayla will die, the nimbus will be broken, and Coronnan will be at the mercy of Krej and all the outland kingdoms. If I do manage to break the spell, I’ll die. I’m not sure my mind will allow that.”
    “Would some Tambootie help?” Darville looked hopeful.
    Jaylor stopped to think a moment.
    Brevelan hid her fear. The last time he had eaten of the Tambootie his mind had been lost, nearly forever. What would a repeat dosage do?
    “I don’t think so. Krej seems to have found a way to feed his powers with the drug. I just separate from my body when I use it.”
    Good. He had dismissed the dangerous idea. “A new staff, then?” Darville prompted. Jaylor just shook his head and wandered toward the sleeping room.
    “A new staff, indeed.” Brevelan glared at Darville. “A magician’s focus is highly personal. Not just any piece of wood will do.”
    “I was only trying to help.”
    “You did. We’ll mend the old staff while he sleeps.”
    “Mend the wood? You can’t do that.”
    “I think I can, with a little help.” The tune was already forming in her head. After all, a broken staff couldn’t be so much different from a broken bone or the dislocated shoulder of a golden wolf.

Chapter 33
     
    S tupid , stupid , STUPID! Ambassadors all the way from Rossemeyer to offer an alliance and now they want to withdraw. Can’t they see how much I need their armies, their wealth? With their support I could win the war in a week and conquer all of my enemies in a moon.
    But they insist the alliance is dependent on our prince marrying their princess. News that Darville is missing caused them to retreat into private counsel. They wouldn’t even consider marrying the chit to me. Of course, I’d have to eliminate the current wife. About time anyway. The only brats she can whelp are girls and I need sons.
    Seems the King of Rossemeyer has moral reservations against such a move. S’murghing fools. Why be squeamish about breaking marriage vows of fealty and honor taken before the Stargods— gods that no longer exist—when an entire kingdom, nay empire, is at stake!
    I’ll take some Tambootie. Then I will be strong enough to convince the drooling imbeciles of the rightness of my course. Perhaps I should feed the ambassadors some Tambootie as well.
     
    From his outpost in a fisherman’s hut, Baamin closely monitored the activities in Krej’s castle. Yaakke had placed a piece of glass near a candlestick in Krej’s chosen meeting place. Through his own glass and a hearth fire Baamin “saw” the family solar above the banquet hall. Seven of the Twelve sat on benches, chairs and window sills, wherever there was a place to rest their ample bottoms. Some were weary from a long journey. Others were fearful of Krej. One, Lord Andrall, was downright worried about the course of the war.
    The border city of Sambol had fallen to SeLenicca three days ago. Krej’s army had been routed. The enemy was marching up the Coronnan River unhindered.
    Clearly, Queen Miranda of SeLenicca and her consort, King Simeon, would not allow the proposed marriage alliance with Rossemeyer to take