The Dragon Nimbus Novels: Volume I: Volume I

the names, Darville? Princess Rosse-mikka owned a cat named Rosse, the cat’s twin is Mica—Mikka is not so far off in pronunciation.” Baamin brought Mica into his own lap. Her purring stopped as she squeaked a protest at the move.
    From the deep folds of a hidden pocket, Baamin produced a round of glass. This wasn’t the large master’s glass in a gold frame he had used for the summoning spell. It looked more like Jaylor’s journeyman glass. A more useful tool to carry in a pocket than the larger one the Senior Magician was entitled to.
    Baamin peered through the magnification of the lens. His free hand stroked Mica’s back in long gestures that outlined her bone structure from nose to tail.
    “Hmm . . . very interesting.” He paused in his examination to look for inspiration in the ceiling. “What are you, Mica?” Baamin mused as he examined the cat.
    “Does she tell you?” Darville remembered the times of near telepathic communication with the creature. Brevelan was empathic with animals and people. She had named the cat based on her emotional communication with her. Could Mica have “told” Brevelan a version of her own name?
    “There is something very uncatlike about her, but it is well cloaked. Where is the Princess Rossemikka, Darville?”
    “In her suite, with the doors locked and her dragon of a governess standing guard.”
    “The blonde with the . . . um . . .” The old man cupped his hands in front of his chest depicting the magnitude of Janataea. He blushed more heartily than a man his age should have.
    Darville chuckled for the first time in many, many hours. “I have seen a true dragon and lived to tell about it,” Baamin stated proudly. “One overprotective governess shouldn’t trouble an old man like me. Though she’d be a lot easier to handle if she were a man.” Baamin gathered his voluminous robes about him and stood. For all of the strain and fatigue that showed in his eyes and his greatly reduced body, Baamin’s shoulders were unbowed.
    “Are you well, Baamin?” Darville couldn’t imagine life in Coronnan City without this most trusted of wise men. But then he hadn’t been able to imagine life without the dragons, or his future without Brevelan not so long ago.
    “I’m old and tired, Darville. But the news that Shayla is back in contact with you takes several years off me.”
    “ ’Tis a contact I’m not appreciating at the moment. Her labor is most uncomfortable, though I’m only getting echoes of her contractions, rather than real pains. How do women stand it?”
     
    “I must find Yaakke. He will work the summons. There must be a way to channel and focus magic from one person, through another, the way I use my staff.” Jaylor pushed authority and decision into his voice. Much more than he felt. Brevelan was weaker. Dangerously so.
    If only there were a little dragon magic, they could link and increase the power of the spell.
    But the solution to Brevelan’s problem might forever end the possibility of dragon magic in Coronnan.
    “Very good, young man. You’ll make a proper, thinking magician yet.” Krej sneered behind Jaylor.
    Jaylor whirled to see the red-haired lord leaning negligently against the doorjamb. Yaakke stood silently behind Krej. The boy lifted his shoulders in an apologetic shrug.
    Brevelan needs him, Yaakke explained in Jaylor’s thoughts. I know I’m not supposed to transport people, Master. Yaakke backed away from the hut as if he expected to be beaten for his audacity.
    Jaylor forced himself to remember the boy had been a nameless kitchen drudge not so long ago. He’d never known any form of correction other than punishment. Considered retarded because of his slow physical development, he hadn’t been allowed an education or the right to a true name. Only when the dragon magic faded and Yaakke’s rogue powers were unmasked did his intelligence, and his uncontrolled talent, become evident.
    You could have killed a member of the Council of Provinces! Jaylor sent back telepathically. Only when the words left his mind did he realize his throat was closed in awe of the boy’s success at a spell that had defied magicians since time began.
    “Nice trick, Jaylor.” Krej moved into the hut, inspecting corners and crevices as if expecting filth. “Transporting me out of an important meeting without my consent. We’ve been trying to perfect that spell since time began without success. How’d you do it?” An aura of menace pulsed