The Dragon Nimbus Novels: Volume I: Volume I

from the overdose of Tambootie.
    Jaylor sent her a thought of reassurance. They had no need of magic tethers. As long as she waited for him, he would always return.
    He took one last lingering look through the dispersing clouds at the clearing where eight men wove magic patterns with their footsteps around a strangely empty figure. His friends stood to one side watching. A small cat crept from the shadow of a prince into the lap of a princess. Even from the tremendous height of dragon flight, Jaylor heard her purring song joining in with the ritual of binding. The cat faded. The princess grew, enhanced, became complete.
    The dragons lifted their wings in unison, then with a powerful downsurge, they all flew forward. Jaylor clung tight to Seaninn.
    Time darted forward and back, forward and stalled in nonlinear form. Yesterday, today, and tomorrow had no form or continuity. Time joined the four elements of the Gaia. All was one.
    The fierce wind took his breath away and refreshed his troubled mind and body. Coronnan spun below them in a myriad of greens and browns of the fields, zigzags of blue rivers and lakes, the whole crisscrossed with the bluey-silver lines of magic. The ley lines pulsed with power. Their color didn’t seem as bright as the other time he had viewed them from this perspective. But he didn’t have massive amounts of the Tambootie coursing through his system now to sensitize his vision.
    The dragons swooped over a thick forest. A few scraggly Tambootie trees tempted them. All of the trees of magic needed cropping. Their distinctive flat tops were overgrown. Jaylor peered deeper at the trees. The roots were withering without the proper pruning dragons gave them.
    A few bites from the huge maws of the male dragons, taken in flight, stabilized some of the trees. The largest ones were too far gone. Pruning sent them into shock. He watched the roots shrivel and die. The underground channels those roots had carved filled with copper. The ley lines running beneath those roots drained back into the core of the planet, to be replaced with gold or silver.
    Jaylor searched the country with his FarSight. Everywhere that the Tambootie grew, the trees were dying, and with them the magic power.
    Council and populace rejoiced. They had no need of magic. Precious metals brought them wealth and exotic trade.
    Jaylor urged his dragon upward. He saw Hanassa to the south, the refuge for outlawed magicians, Rovers, and other undesirables. Claimed by all, controlled by none, this haven sat within a huge caldera protected by high granite walls. Tunnels through the ancient mountain gave secret access to the hiding place. He blinked and knew those secrets.
    The dragons flew northwest, back to Coronnan. From the capital islands nestled into the massive river, Jaylor sent his dragon escort west, up the Coronnan River. Where the river narrowed and climbed toward its mountain source, the ley lines ceased. So did all trace of the large Tambootie trees that fed dragons. This was the natural border with SeLenicca.
    His dragon escort flew over that kingdom quickly and reluctantly. They told him the air was bad here. Great gouges marred once beautiful rolling hills, upland meadows and alpine lakes. Vast patches of land had been stripped of growth and minerals, leaving hills to crumble and rivers to overrun their banks. Beneath the surface ran black channels, burned-out power.
    But those channels had not filled with valuable metals to be mined and exploited. These channels had been drained by a single blast of magic, so huge and volatile, they would forever remain empty.
    The air disturbed Jaylor. Something shimmered, just beyond his perception, drawing his senses, but eluding them at the same time. He deliberately turned his FarSight back to Coronnan, back to the circle of men who were rebraiding his magic along the path of Helios.
    Mica leaped from the wing of a middle-sized dragon with dark red wingtips onto Seaninn’s back. She greeted Jaylor with a nudge of her head to his chin. Her body was barely a shadow and unreal.
    Jaylor cuddled the little cat a moment. She radiated warmth and he was suddenly aware of the cold wind on his face and back. His awareness returned to his companions and to reality. The void began to fade around him.
    Thought to thought, Mica urged him back to the ritual. Brevelan needed him.
    Brevelan.
    He felt the cramp in his belly at the same moment it touched her womb. The baby was coming. Early. Eager.