The Dragon Nimbus Novels: Volume I: Volume I

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    Silent darkness greeted him. The moon was in its most remote phase. No light penetrated the heavily curtained window. By feel alone, he found the massive bedpost that reached nearly to the ceiling. As if guided, his free hand found the opening in the draperies that shielded the sleeper from drafts and prying eyes.
    Mica roused in his arms. She squeaked a quiet inquiry. Then she shivered in his grasp. Darville sensed the alertness in her body and imagined her ears perked and nose twitching. Before she could jump and awaken Rossemikka, he placed the cat on top of the mound of covers that must be the princess.
    Instantly the enclosed bed space was filled with a magical glow of wondrous blue light. Waves of light and magic nearly forced Darville to close his eyes and back away. He fought the impulse. Whatever the outcome, he had to know what happened tonight.
    The cat grew. The woman shrank. They surged back and forth. The white streak in Rosie’s hair gleamed brighter, jumped from her body to Mica’s and back again, highlighting, merging and separating, merging again, then with a snap the light was gone.
    “You may light the lantern again, beloved,” a sweet, melodious voice rose from the bed. It was Rossemikka, and yet not. She sounded huskier, more sure of herself, and much more sensuous.
     
    “Rosie?” Darville’s voice cracked as it hadn’t done since he was twelve.
    “Mikka, Rossemikka to be more precise. Rosse is my cat. Please light the lantern so I may see you properly.”
    The soft feminine voice sounded sweeter than his favorite ballad. Unexplained dampness on his palms made the simple act of striking fire stone clumsy, adolescent. Darville blushed at his ineptness, and thanked the Stargods for a few more moments of darkness in which to recover.
    “Rosie, Mica. Mikka, Rosse. Please explain,” he pleaded. At last, the wick caught a spark and he raised it to reveal the woman who had haunted his dreams since that day in Shayla’s lair.
    Rippling strands of hair flowed down the naked body of Princess Rossemikka. Gold and brown of harvest mixed with just a hint of the bright red of autumn leaves in sunshine. No brand of white at her temple marred the silken mane that covered her body, almost adequately.
    On the bed, nestled into the pillow, was a sleeping cat. Her fur was the same wondrous mix of color, except for one white ear and eye.
    “It’s a long story, Darville. Do you have the time?” Mikka reached a familiar hand to caress his arm.
    “Until dawn. Baamin says this transformation is only temporary. The two of you must embrace willingly for the spell to be reversed permanently.” A lump formed in his throat. He’d found her, his perfect princess, but only for a few hours. Come morning, the cat would once more be in control of the woman’s body.
    They both knew that Rosie would not willingly embrace Mica for any reason, even a restoration of nature’s balance.
    Mikka looked at the cat for a long moment. When she returned her attention to Darville, tears made her eyes overbright. “You must know the truth. Then you will be able to end this wickedness. And I beg of you, Darville, terminate this evil spell, even if you must use force. Even if you must kill one or both of us. Promise me.”
    Darville caught her emotional pain. The tragedy reminded him of his own experience. Lord Krej, disguised as the half-naked, beast-headed man, had left him to die in the forgotten, often reviled body of a wolf. His memories left him mute.
    “Swear to me, Darville, that you will do whatever must be done to restore the balance of souls. If you don’t, I fear the coven plans to use us as pawns. Their plans grow bigger with each season. I believe they want to wrest political power away from legitimate governments. And they will use us to do it.” Her hand gripped his arm in desperation.
    “I swear, by all that binds me to my destiny as King of Coronnan, that I will restore the balance of souls.”
    “Then I will tell you how it came about, so that you can understand. . . .”

Chapter 14
     
    “T was over two years ago . . .” Mikka’s voice drifted off in memory.
    Oh! She had spent a glorious three days in the mountains, dressed in her brother’s old clothes, voluminous trews and a tunic that nearly reached her knees. Under the tutelage of Erda, an old Rover woman, Mikka pushed her muscles and her wits to the limit as she learned to identify dozens of plants and their healing properties, as