The Dragon Nimbus Novels: Volume I: Volume I

the stars singing hymns in six-part harmony. Priests in scarlet robes came next, intoning ritual prayers. Then followed the lords. Andrall led the way, carrying the Coraurlia on a golden silk pillow.
    At the moment the dragon crown emerged into the open courtyard, the high overcast broke apart and a shaft of sunlight arrowed into the gleaming glass. Rainbows arced from the symbol of royal authority. Awed silence rang through the crowd.
    “Dragon weather!” someone, who sounded a great deal like Jaylor, announced with awe. Murmurs and shouts of approval rippled through the crowd. This was a good omen.
    “I believe that is our signal to follow.” Darville gestured, then he and Mikka stepped out to greet their people.
    The sun burst forth in sparkling autumnal glory. Everyone looked up. A speck in the distant sky grew and flew closer. No one moved.
    The speck took on an outline, indistinct but huge. Mouths gaped open as the creature flew closer. Light shimmered around the winged form, teasing the eye, drawing vision out and around.
    “A dragon!” The priests shouted with glee.
    “A blue-tipped male dragon,” Darville added.
    The huge creature hovered over the courtyard, almost visible. It gave the impression of searching the crowd.
    “Grrower!” it trumpeted with joy.
    Sunlight touched the dragon’s wings and arced downward. Rainbows of color filled the Coraurlia with life. Lord Andrall turned within the circle of prismatic light to face his king. His face glowed with wonder.
    The dragon shifted. Rainbows followed his wing movement and bathed Darville and Mikka in magnificent blessing.

Epilogue
     
    T he coven has failed in its mission. Our two strongest members have been stolen from us. The next candidate to be the focus has betrayed and deserted us.
    But we are not broken. The Council has begun the campaign to outlaw all magic in Coronnan. As the mundanes rejoice with their maimed king and trollop of a queen, witches and magicians flock to the coven. They will work with us against the Council and our enemies in the Commune.
    The coronation is but a mockery. The ceremony will never be completed. And while all of Coronnan turns its attention to the gaudy display of jewels and fashion, the coven will implement a scheme destined to restore the true balance of power.

 
     

    This book is dedicated to the members
of the Portland Lace Society,
active and retired

Acknowledgments
     
    I wish to thank the members of The International Old
Lacers for helping me research this book over the
last thirteen years, even when I was having too much
fun to call it research.
Thanks also go to my editor, Sheila Gilbert, and her
staff of miracle workers for turning my rambling
prose into real books.
Most of all I need to thank my agent, Carol McCleary,
for believing in me before anyone else did.

Prologue
     
    L ord Krej and his sister Janataea are lost to the coven. Zolltarn , king of the Rovers , betrayed them both and deserted our ranks. No other has enough power to become the focus of our magic rituals. Our numbers are depleted; a miserable six when we need nine, and I am but half-trained. The Council of Provinces and their puppet king have triumphed.
    But only for the moment. I am making plans for when we are a full nine once more. Then the Twelve will die for what they have done to us.
    I have not the power or knowledge to break the reflected magic that transformed Krej into a tin weasel with flaking gilt paint. No honor for him, tricked by Darville and caught in the spell’s backlash. If only our Lady Janessa could be revived. She would know how to release her son. But she died and was honored by being transformed into an idol at the moment of death. I sense that Lord Krej still lives within his statue prison. His life-spirit fades little by little.
    I will have revenge. Before Darville is crowned, when all eyes are on the gaudy display of the coronation festival, my agents will kill the self-righteous king and his trollop of a queen.
    The great winged god Simurgh will demand blood for the power needed to carry through with the plan. A mere slave will do for the initial spells. When all is done, I will need a triple sacrifice for the return of Krej. Yes! I sense the balances moving into place as I plan.
    Jaylor is boon companion to Darville. His wife, Brevelan, is bastard daughter of Krej. And their babe is an innocent. They should die together.

Chapter 1
     
    A pprentice Magician Yaakke downed the last of his ale,