The Dragon Nimbus Novels: Volume I: Volume I

space he occupied.
    A magician. In the pub he had encountered an old derelict who carried an image of himself as a vigorous man in his prime. A man with hair as red as Lord Krej’s.
    Three years before Jaylor had entered the University, Krej, the youngest son of the Lord of Faciar had been a journeyman magician. His father and brothers had been killed in a senseless hunting accident. A wild tusker had charged. Arrows went astray. Grief stricken, the new lord renounced his magic and took a bride. He had to have lost most, if not all of his magical powers on his wedding night.
    The magician who followed Jaylor could not be Krej himself. Possibly a rogue hired by him, or a cousin from his mother’s country? But why play with outlaw rogues when he’d been educated into the benefits, ethics, and strengths of traditional magic? Jaylor slipped off the path behind a tree. The rough bark was the same color as his dusty cloak. He merged with the tree. Even a master magician would find only a tree.
    The reek of burned Tambootie preceded the nearing presence. Jaylor stilled his mind and his magic.
    Just as Jaylor expected, it was the one-eyed man from the pub who emerged from around the bend in the path. Old Thorm, someone had called him. No longer drunk or derelict, he walked fully upright with hands extended before him. He sniffed the air carefully as he walked.
    Rough bark scraped Jaylor’s face as he pressed closer to the tree. With his mind, he sought the core of the tree, identified with it, made it part of himself.
    His pursuer moved forward, still seeking by sense and by magic. He was abreast of Jaylor when he turned and faced him. Jaylor stopped breathing.
    “You there, magician,” One-eye hissed, “you can’t hide from me. I can feel your magic.”
    Fear climbed Jaylor’s back and brought moisture to his skin. His mind deliberately closed off the seeking words that were a spell in themselves. He thought nothing, moved nothing, was aware only of the smell of Tambootie and the essence of timboor that lingered in his mouth and groin.
    The pursuer looked more closely. His head shifted right and left, above and below, seeking and sniffing.
    Jaylor’s sheltering tree dissolved before his eyes. His eyes locked with those of his pursuer.
    “Whaour!” Some beast above him screamed.
    One-eye jerked his eyes away from Jaylor, looking up in fear. His arms flew above his head in protection. Piercing turquoise shafts of glasslike light became speeding arrows aimed at his one good eye. They made contact and splintered into a thousand bright shards of brilliant color. Rainbows arced and danced on every beam of light through the tree branches.
    “No! No!” One-eye backed down the path, his arms still over his head and face. “Leave me alone. Go away. Go away.” He turned and ran back the way he had come. His shrieks of pain and terror marked his path. He left behind a lingering aura of evil.
    Relief washed over Jaylor’s entire body in waves of coolness. He looked up at the one small patch of visible sky. The blue-green color shimmered with a magic distortion. Squinting with his extended sight, he could just see the outline of a wing and a long, lashing tail.
    The lilting, feminine voice came into his head unbidden. You are safe for now. Hurry. They need you.
    Had he just seen and heard a dragon? Startled and bewildered, he grabbed a branch of his tree for support. He jumped back, amazed that the tree hadn’t really dissolved. His hand came away with a clump of gray berries, dried and desiccated from the long winter, clenched in is fist.
    Timboor. He’d used a Tambootie tree for shelter. Had the tree aided his magic sight or One-eye’s? The reek he had sensed was Tambootie smoke, not the crisp sap he smelled now. He needed to stop and think about this. But the dragon had urged him forward. He pulled off another handful of the berries and stuffed them into his belt pouch.
    Jaylor pushed on. He pondered the significance of the tree, of the man who’d followed him, and the dragon, and how they were all related to the magic that came to him with increasing ease. He hummed a strange little tune that visited him on the wind, the vibration of the music swelling in his chest and tingling through his body.
    Song burst from him in joy. Nonsense words flowed through his mind as he tried to find their meaning. None came. He just sang with uplifting cheerfulness over a narrow escape, a good quest before him, a firm road to