The Dragon Nimbus Novels: Volume I: Volume I

permeate his skin, his clothing, his breath.
    Is that the secret? We have fostered superstition against the trees so the simple mundanes would fell them, eliminate them from the face of this planet. The trees are the source of the dragons’ magic. Without the trees, the dragons are just another menace to be hunted and slaughtered.
    I believe we have made a grave mistake. I will experiment with the herb. Perhaps the Tambootie will give me the courage to face the void. If I am correct, we must change our tactics and salvage what we can of the once great forests of Tambootie.
    But first I must check on the princess. There is a great deal of magic in the air tonight. She must be safe from all spells. Rossemikka is much more important than just an alliance between the desert warriors of Rossemeyer and the bumbling traders of lush Coronnan. She is the future.
     
    Jaylor drew a shaky breath into his tired lungs and looked around. He was in the scullery of the University. Yaakke had placed him in the one place in the capital that the boy knew best and which was likely to be deserted at this time of day.
    Long shudders coursed through Jaylor’s body and he shook his head to orient himself. His abrupt passage from the tree-scented clearing to this stone room offended his logic, as well as his nose. For several heartbeats there had been nothing. Worse than the magic void, worse than the nightmare of his rite of passage in a windowless room filled with Tambootie smoke.
    But he had survived.
    No wonder the key to transport lay in time. The shock of the void was so great that a soul needed to be existing in some other dimension at the same time in order to re-root itself at the end of the trip.
    He took another deep breath to steady himself. His cured heart beat strong and in a regular rhythm. He just hoped his magic was as sound as his heartbeat after Krej’s magic had poured through him. He had a task to complete before Brevelan was sent to him. She and Yaakke needed to know for sure that the spell worked, and that she could survive the journey with the baby intact. A summons would be ideal but might prove too draining on Yaakke’s magic.
    Jaylor took a third deep breath and pictured in his mind the locked wine cellar of the University. The private reserve contained the best wines from three kingdoms. Apprentices were invited to imbibe at will—as long as they could bring the cups of wine to their quarters magically. By the time they mastered the complicated spells, they were ready for promotion to journeyman.
    Jaylor was unusually adept at this particular spell. He’d mastered it easily his first week at the University. But he hadn’t used the traditional method of levitating the cup along the myriad corridors to his room. Instead, he’d used rogue magic to instantly transport the wine to his hand.
    No one had recognized his triumph as legitimate and Jaylor couldn’t explain how he had accomplished the unheard-of feat. Yaakke wasn’t so different from himself after all.
    With the wine cup firmly in his mind, Jaylor emblazoned a message into the crockery. “SAFE AND WHOLE” burned into the pottery. Then he filled the cup with the finest of red wines. A new shudder rippled along his legs and arms. The muscles cramped and twitched. His mouth watered at the thought of rich fruity wine. That would restore his confidence and his strength. So he filled a second cup for himself. The first was sent back to Yaakke. The other he brought to the scullery.
    His hands curved around the cup lovingly. He opened his eyes to taste the favored drink.
    There were two cups. One in each hand. One pure vinegar, the other unfermented fruit juice!
    His spell had split again.
     
    Darville stepped into the boxlike remains of the desk. The ladder held his weight. The darkness of the tunnels beckoned him.
    He found his way to the main passage easily. The cross tunnel to the princess’ chamber was only a few paces along to his right. His small light illuminated a circle around him, isolating him from the rest of the tunnel, from reality, from himself.
    This might as well be the magic void Jaylor talked about when he entered a trance. For Darville, the eeriness of the tunnels became an alien territory, a journey through the void to a magic answer.
    He met no resistance at the top of the staircase. The few gowns hanging in the wardrobe didn’t hamper his passage. Cautiously, he blew out his candle before he opened the doors of the wardrobe a