The Dragon Nimbus Novels: Volume I: Volume I

stomach roiling.
    He looked back. His own silver umbilical was fading. The red and blue ahead was growing stronger, pulsing with vitality.
    “Open your eyes, Yaakke, son of Yaacob.” Not exactly a voice, not exactly a magic probe, either.
    “I can’t see anything.”
    “Open your eyes.”
    Yaakke thought his eyes were open. Maybe he was supposed to open all of his senses, including the web of magic armor that was always with him. He squinted and “saw” tiny pinpoints of light at each intersecting joint in the web. This was his protection, unique to him. He’d constructed it as a child, before he knew he had magic, as a defense from the older boys who taunted and jeered him for being stupid. He couldn’t break that web. He needed it.
    “Open, Yaakke. Break free of your armor or you won’t survive the void.”
    Reluctantly, Yaakke separated two of the pinpoints of light and peered through to the outside. Rainbows and braids pulsed with life. Colors seen and felt, heard and smelled beckoned to him. He could get lost out there.
    “Open the damn thing or go back to the Commune!” That was Jaylor’s voice and mental probe.
    Yaakke dropped the web, but he kept it close at hand. Those rainbows and braids were the essences of many, many souls. One never knew when those other lives would reach consciousness and reach out and grab him. He needed to explore this “place,” not stay here permanently.
    “Mikka’s magic is akin to Brevelan’s—elemental. Search for the colors of Coronnan. It will be linked to Darville’s gold.”
    A golden filament hovered before his vision.
    “It’s bare. There’s nothing linked to it.” Yaakke scanned the umbilical as far as he could see in either direction.
    “It shouldn’t be. Brevelan and I should be entwined with him, and Shayla along with Mikka.”
    “I can’t see any links in any of the cords. Each one is separate, not even touching another.”
    Someone yanked on Yaakke’s silver life-thread, hard. Urgent.
    “BAAMIN!” he screeched. “Don’t die on me, Master. You can’t die yet. I need you.”
    Abruptly he was sitting on his stool at the black glass table.
     
    Darville flopped back in his chair, tired and hungry beyond belief. No wonder Jaylor and Yaakke ate so much. From the looks of the gathered Commune, all of the other magicians were as flagged as he was. They had poured all of their strength into Jaylor, and drained his mundane body, as well.
    Except for Yaakke. His young body twitched with anxious energy.
    “I have to go to him. He’ll die if I’m not there!” Yaakke wailed and burst from the room with more energy than he had a right to have left over.
    Jaylor reached a weak hand to restrain the boy.
    “Let him go. He’s useless in that state.” Zolltarn closed his eyes. Fatigue drew new lines in his exotic skin. He looked in better shape than the others in the room.
    “I didn’t have a chance to find her. I’ve got to go back in.” Jaylor began his deep breathing to repeat the spell.
    “You can’t,” Slippy protested. “It’s too soon and you are too drained. We might not be able to pull you back.”
    “That’s a chance I’m prepared to take.”
    “I don’t see how you expected to find one life strand in that tangle, Jaylor. Give it a rest. We can try again in a few hours. When we’ve eaten and slept.” Slippy yawned.
    “A few hours may be too late,” Darville reminded them all. “Every hour we delay gives Krej that much more time to strengthen his defenses.”
    “Relax, Your Grace. We’ll get Krej eventually. As for the queen, it was a political union, not like she was your mistress, someone you really loved.” The ancient magician in a faded and threadbare cloak grumbled.
    “None of you will ever understand!” Darville thrust back his chair. It teetered and fell over, as he pushed himself upright with an effort.
    “Mikka is my wife. My wife, s’murgh it. How can any of you wrinkled old eunuches hope to comprehend what it is like to love a woman, to need a particular woman beside you as a companion, lover, friend, and adviser?” He glared at each one of them. Only Jaylor met his eye.
    “I’m going back in. I’ll find her for you. It would help if I knew what essence to look for. I couldn’t find anything resembling Mica.”
    His mispronunciation of the name had to be deliberate. Jaylor knew the woman better as a cat than as the wife of his best friend.
    “She is gold and copper, silver and lead. Diamonds,