The Dragon Nimbus Novels: Volume I: Volume I

turret.
    “You’ll come along with me, Rosie. We’ll take care of the ache that burns within you.” Janataea held out her hand.
    The oily persuasion of the governess’ voice sickened Mikka.
    “Rosie is gone, Janataea. I’m Mikka.”
    “NEVER!” The older woman screeched. She looked frantically about her for evidence of a cat. “We killed the cat. Krej assured me it was Mica.”
    “You sacrificed an empty body. Rosie and I are joined. But I am dominant. I am in control of my mind and my body. You will never again manipulate me.”
    Defiance died as the witch waved her arms in a grasping circle. An oily green-black miasma of magic flowed from her gesture.
    Mikka watched, speechless, paralyzed, as the web of witch-born hate surrounded and lifted her body to the edge of the parapet. Desperately, she reached for the stone ledge that marked the boundary between life and a death plunge. Her arms remained lifeless at her side.
    Slowly, the familiar acid of Janataea’s compulsion ate at Mikka’s consciousness.
    “My mind is my own,” Mikka shouted her defiance.
    Janataea lifted her arms over her head. Mikka’s body glided up over the edge of stonework. Her head and arms remained almost within reach of the wall, while her immobile feet dangled over nothing.
    “I-will-not-allow-you . . .” Mikka ground out between clenched teeth.
    Abruptly her feet flew up over her head. Magic suspended her upside down. The world spun crazily below her. She saw figures gathering in the stone-paved courtyard below. Mikka closed her eyes and gulped back the nausea of fear and disorientation. Rosie’s need to have her feet down and head up clamored for attention inside her.
    “Let Rosie come to the surface, Princess. Hide yourself behind Rosie and I’ll save you,” Janataea laughed. “There is still time to obey me.”
    “Never.”
    A sickening lurch dropped Mikka several feet. Rosie howled in the back of her mind.
    “Will you let Rosie out now, Mikka?”
    “If you kill me, you kill Rosie as well. You won’t have either of us to fulfill your horrid plans.”
    “I have another body for Rosie. I’ll pull her free at the moment of your death.”
    Mikka gulped as she dropped again.
     
    “Free my wife or die, Janataea!” Darville burst through the trapdoor, knocking the Coraurlia askew in his haste. His eyes riveted on the desperate figure of Mikka hanging upside-down over the edge of the tower. Only a slim thread of magic tethered her ankles to Janataea’s fingertips. Even as he watched, the magic was fraying.
    “Make me, you trivial mundane,” Janataea taunted him. She bounced Mikka up and down, like a ball.
    “Return Mikka to safety.” This time Darville pressed his sword to Janataea’s throat, punctuating his demand by pricking her skin.
    “How . . . how did you get past my armor, the traps set by my brother?” she croaked in alarm.
    “The Coraurlia negates spells that threaten me!” Darville didn’t dare shift his eyes away from Janataea. He needed to assess her every move by the shift in her eyes.
    Mikka dropped again. Only her feet showed above the lip of the wall. Darville jerked his head away from the witch. His desperate move dislodged the crown further.
    “Krej can’t save you. He is the victim of backlash,” Zolltarn gloated from the head of the stairs.
    “Traitor!” she hissed at the Rover. “You have betrayed the coven.”
    “No, Janataea,” Darville interrupted. “You have betrayed everyone, including yourself.” He pressed his sword point a little deeper. Blood trickled from the nick in the witch’s neck.
    “I demand revenge for my brother. I’ll kill Rossemikka.”
    “Kill the witch, Darville. She must die,” Mikka cried from her precarious position.
    “Mikka, I can’t let you die!” Tears threatened Darville’s clear vision. Even clad in ugly boy’s clothing, her hair flying in the unruly wind, and hanging upside down by a slender thread, Mikka was the most beautiful woman in the world. His heart ached at the thought of being separated from her for all eternity.
    “You promised to kill her, even if it means my death. You can’t allow her to survive,” Mikka argued with more resolve than Darville had.
    “Give me a reason to hold on to her a little longer,” Janataea laughed with malicious glee.
    Darville looked to Mikka for an answer. Indecision clouded his vision.
    “Can’t think of one?” Janataea’s flicked her wrist.
    Darville reared back to avoid the tiny dart