The Dragon Nimbus Novels: Volume I: Volume I

tears. The strain of the last day was telling on his youthful body and immature emotions. What little control he had snapped. “Brevelan’s got more magic in her little toe than you’ve thrown in the last thirty years.”
    Jaylor pulled Yaakke tight against his chest, letting juvenile fists pound out pain and frustration. When the storm was over, the apprentice turned to face the stunned assembly of master magicians. “I won’t apologize. Why should I? Scrawny’s no longer a true magician and has no right to be part of the Commune. His magic is borrowed. Probably from Krej. He stinks of Krej.”
    “Yaakke, what are you saying?” Jaylor turned his apprentice to look directly into his eyes. Yaakke didn’t have any tact or discipline and usually blurted out the truth without thought. He could keep secrets when he wanted to, though. What he saw with his wild magic talent was usually the best kept secret of all.
    “His magic is borrowed, sir.” Yaakke gulped around a new storm of emotions. “His aura isn’t true and his thoughts are chaotic—like someone else is telling him what to do and what to say. There’re others here, too, who lost their real magic when Shayla flew away. But they pretended, like, so they wouldn’t be embarrassed.”
    “And just who is lending these men magic?” Lord Andrall entered the room. The Council was slower in response to Jaylor’s summons than their magicians had been.
    “Krej!” Zolltarn interceded for the boy. “My lords, Guardians, our enemy seems to have left allies in our midst.”
    “His bastard daughter and her husband among them, perhaps?” Scrawny leaped toward Jaylor.
    Scrawny’s clawlike hands closed about Jaylor’s throat before he could throw out his armor. Heat impaled his vocal cords. Air burned in his lungs, seeking escape.
    The words of the spell wouldn’t form. Blackness threatened. His vision elongated and fuzzed.
    I am Jaylor. The solitary, Jaylor. He didn’t need words. Words were indefinite. He needed images. Behind his bulging eyes he saw gleaming armor. Thick metal armor, hot metal armor slid around his throat and neck, up into a helm, down around his torso.
    “Aieyeeeeee!” Scrawny screamed. Magic repulsion propelled him backward across the room in one mighty blast. Scrawny crashed against the wall with a sickening thud to his spine and bead. His sprawled hands were burned nearly free of skin.
    Magic flowed out of him in visible sheets of pink—a muted shade of Krej’s dark maroon magic.
    “Out. All of you get out of my suite!” Jaylor ordered. He reached to massage his bruised throat. “We’ll discuss bloodlines and true magic and traitors when my wife and the queen are both safe. Until then, remove yourself from my quarters. And take that . . .” He pointed toward the crumpled corpse of Scrawny with one hand, while the other continued to massage his injuries. “And take him somewhere where his body can be examined. We need information.”
    When they were all gone, the bolt of alien magic and the corpse with them, Jaylor spoke his thoughts. “Dragon dung! How did he break through my defenses?”
    “He attacked with his body, instead of his magic. You weren’t prepared for that from a master magician,” Darville recited in a monotone. “You did the same thing to one of Zolltarn’s guards. Remember?” He hung back, shoulders slumped, eyes lowered. His spine shuddered. Then he straightened and faced his friend with something of his old resolve and courage.
    “I’ll wait with you, Jaylor. Brevelan may respond to me,” Darville offered.
    “No, old friend. Your place is in Council. Yaakke and the Coraurlia will protect you until I get there. And don’t worry. We’ll find Mikka. We’ll get her back for you.”
    “At least, leave Yaakke here to protect Brevelan,” Darville protested.
    “I’m sending her back to the clearing.”
    “No.” Brevelan stood up from the corner, between the wardrobe and the wall. She reached to hug Jaylor close. “Forgive me for rejecting your touch. I feared the kidnappers would mimic your signature in order to lure me out.”
    Jaylor hugged her hard in relief. He kissed her hair, and then examined both her and the baby to make sure they were all right.
    “Please go back to the clearing, beloved. You’ll be safe there.”
    “I will stay here,” Brevelan asserted. “Mikka will need me when she is found.”
    “How do you know?” Darville asked.
    “The one who sought to steal my son