The Dragon Nimbus Novels: Volume I: Volume I

yet.
    The black vacant spot near the roof tree of the hut spread outward and down. There was a presence within that blackness. A presence that Baamin’s magic should have armored them against.
    The child within Brevelan’s womb kicked in recognition of that presence. Alarm spread through her veins. Her heart pounded in her ears. She began to hum. Her song lifted to the roof tree, cleansing the hut of alien minds. Her soul lifted with the song, rising out of her body. It spread upward, outward, until she filled the clearing. Her mind sniffed for the intruder. It was gone.
    Below, her baby cried out. Its unformed mind sought wildly for the comfort of her ever-present thoughts. The cries stopped abruptly. Comforted by someone else? Jaylor perhaps?
    Brevelan sent a tendril of copper-colored magic backward to tether herself to her own body and the baby. When her empathic contact with her child was once more firmly established, she allowed her soul to rise higher, above the trees. She sang a spell to reinforce the boundaries of her home. Her inner vision sought farther, up the mountainside to Shayla’s empty lair, down the course of the creek to the village, outward to the nearby border of Coronnan.
    Nothing.
    Whatever had disturbed her was gone, fled before an identity could be recognized by any but the baby.

    I have them now. I have found the new ninth. A twist here and a lie there and she will be made to see the truth of Simurgh.
    Old Baamin wants Jaylor in the capital. I want Brevelan in the capital. But not yet. Not until I have everything in place and the coven is ripe to accede to my power.
    If only I had time for the baby to grow into his true calling. But I will have to make do with the mother. She can be manipulated and controlled through the baby.
     
    Darville fumbled along a small ledge just inside the tunnel as the door swung closed on its pivot. No light penetrated the stone walls to relieve the subterranean blackness. There should be a bit of fire stone and a candle hidden here from his last exploration of this ancient and forgotten escape hole.
    Gone! What did he expect in eleven years time, that no one else in the entire s’murghing castle knew of his childhood playground?
    “I’ll have to take the chance of traversing the passage in the dark,” he muttered under his breath. He’d done it before, on a dare from Jaylor, twice landing on his face from hurrying too fast over the paving stones. Unseen ghosts and mindless evil had pursued him in imagination then. He was older now and knew that ghosts had no power, and evil was always channeled by a mind. He took a deep breath for courage and stepped forward.
    He felt for breaks in the stone paving with his soft-soled shoes. Running his fingers along the wall, he pushed himself deeper into the blackness, following a gradual curve downward. Over and over he reminded himself that the starbursts of light before his eyes were mere illusions. There was no light, no other life in the tunnel.
    Something furry brushed his leg. He leaped aside, his pulse racing.
    “Meow?”
    “Mica! How did you get in here?”
    “Miower,” the cat replied. Moving a pace ahead, she spoke again.
    Darville stepped closer to her. “Make sure you stay out from underfoot, Mica, and we’ll get through this together.”
    “Meow.” Of course.
    Very quickly the narrow passage opened into a larger one. The light here seemed more gray than black. They had reached the primary tunnel where it ran below the river bedrock, connecting castle and University. A torch glowed at each end.
    Darville headed for the University end at a run. He was probably too late to join Baamin in his summons, but he might be able to pass a message along to Brevelan at the tail end of the communication. If anyone could save Shayla, Brevelan could.
    After many moons of silence, the dragon had reawakened her ties to the last member of the royal family in a desperate plea. Darville hadn’t just dreamed Shayla’s distress. He’d lived it with her.
    One more bend and the corridors of the University should be in view. Darville picked up speed. Mica scampered behind him at a slightly slower pace.
    Footsteps. There were footsteps behind him. The Council’s guards must have used the main access to this passage off the wine cellar. Darville didn’t pause long enough to listen to his pursuers.
    He looked ahead. The light was brighter, his goal nearly in sight. He focused on the single torch reflecting off iron