The Dragon Nimbus Novels: Volume I: Volume I

back into his fingers. Each grain of dirt rasped against his sensitive palm. Concentrating on that hand, he reinforced the spell. His body responded.
    He needed a focus. Something to channel the energy of his overactive mind to his limbs. His staff and pack lay nearby. Someone had moved them into the tent with his body when he blacked out. How long ago? Carefully, lest he alert the women, Jaylor reached for the staff. It was too far from the end of his fingers to grasp. He stretched as far as he could and only succeeded in pushing it farther away.
    “Come here,” he commanded as he strained to reach it again. The staff obeyed, appearing in his outstretched hand almost before it disappeared from its resting place.
    Jaylor grabbed the instrument and tapped each foot as he whispered the proper words.
    Again, control and strength returned with a painful rush. He flexed and twisted his muscles until the pricking subsided. Now if he could just sneak past the two waiting women without being seen.
    He gathered his energy slowly and levered himself into a crouch. The women’s conversation rose in distress. He froze in his uncomfortable position. They turned and stared at him.
    “See how heavily he sleeps!” Maija wailed. “We’re running out of time. We have to move again at dawn or risk discovery.”
    She didn’t see him, saw only what she thought she should see. Or rather what Jaylor wanted her to see. How could that be? He hadn’t thrown a delusion at her. He shouldn’t have the energy for it. Any normal man would have been brought to the brink of death by that dose of timboor.
    Cautiously, he stood. Maija continued her conversation as if nothing had changed. Jaylor summoned his pack. It thumped against his shoulder. He grabbed it with his left hand before it fell. Still the women saw nothing unusual.
    He must be invisible! He looked back to the pallet. A shadowy form reclined there. In his need to escape he’d projected that shadow to delude the women.
    Outside the canvas walls, pack steeds snorted, birds awoke, insect chirps faded. He smelled the dawn dampness and knew he must move quickly, before sunlight revealed his shadow and the women decided to investigate the form they thought they saw lying on the ground.
    One bold step after another Jaylor paced to the tent flap. No one stopped him. He saluted the camp with his staff in relief as he silently slipped into the protection of the woods.
     
    Large hands, callused, with splotches of dark hair on the back reached for Brevelan. They grasped her arms, cruelly. Bruises would form in the shape of his fingers. She screamed and screamed again. Desperately, she tried to wrench herself away from the hot breath of the black-haired man who held her. Each movement only tightened his grip, brought the heat of his body closer. One last scream and twist of her body. She was free!
    She was awake.
    Brevelan breathed deeply, trying to calm her racing heart. Cold sweat covered her face and back. She was so tangled in her blankets she couldn’t break free to clear her mind and body of the nightmare. She rolled off the oversized bed onto the hard-packed earth of her own cottage deep in the woods.
    The cat, Mica, lifted one round-pupiled eye in mild curiosity then settled back into a sleeping ball at the foot of the cot. The wolf by her side lifted his head. His warm tongue darted out to lick her hand.
    “It’s all right, Puppy. We’re safe here. No one will find us and make me go back.” Her pet caressed her again with his tongue. She scratched his ears and lay her head on his neck. The long winter-thick fur comforted her as his gentle warmth replaced the evil memory of her dream.
    “It’s almost dawn. Puppy. We might as well get up and begin working the garden.” The wolf responded by leaping up, his tail wagging so hard his hind end moved.
    “You’re too eager.” She laughed at his antics. He stood by the door, waiting to be let out.
    Mica mewed in protest. Her half-open eyes showed the vertical pupils of a cat again. She settled back into the warmth of the blankets.
    Brevelan reached out with her mind and checked each of her charges. The rabbits emerged one by one from their holes for early grazing; the goat still slept. The flustercock stood and strutted for his first crow of the day. Somewhere above, Shayla circled.
    You were frightened.
    “Only a dream.” Brevelan shivered as she shed her damp shift and pulled on a clean one. Her woolen overgown added