The Dragon Nimbus Novels: Volume I: Volume I

king kept his injured left arm close to his body and used his right arm to brace himself against the chair arm. Darville paused before standing, as if gathering strength against the pain he knew would come. Jaylor hurried to assist him. Yaakke stood on the opposite side with a polite hand beneath Darville’s elbow.
    The king shook off any help from Yaakke while he leaned heavily on his best friend. Yaakke remembered the tales of mischief that still followed these two around the city from when they were adolescents. Ten years of close friendship was a long time.
    Once he’d read a person’s thoughts, Yaakke knew their selfish motives. He couldn’t think of anyone he’d liked and trusted for more than a few moments. Well, maybe Old Baamin.
    Tonight he made a serious effort not to read the thoughts of these two couples. He didn’t need to know what it was like to be half-cat, or a new mother. He didn’t want to develop jealousy of the love they all shared.
    Darville winced as Jaylor lifted the stiff tunic over the injured arm.
    “Now roll up your shirtsleeve. This poultice may sting for a while, but it should draw more of the poison out and allow your body to heal itself.” Brevelan set the bowl on the side table and began soaking bandages in the odoriferous liquid. “I’ve shown Mikka how to brew the solution. Between us, we’ll have you well in no time.”
    “I certainly hope so. It’s getting harder and harder just to sign my name to the infinite number of documents the Council comes up with. Then there’s the problem of eating like a civilized man.” Darville shook his head. “Life was easier when I was just your ‘Puppy,’ Brevelan.”
    “But not nearly so interesting.” Mikka smiled and bent to kiss him.
    While Darville was distracted by his bride, Brevelan placed the first of the steaming cloths on the exposed black burns that snaked up Darville’s arm.
    “Yaiyeee! What is in that demon brew!” Darville gritted his teeth. The cords of his neck went rigid.
    “You don’t want to know.” Brevelan’s expression didn’t change until she turned to look at Jaylor.
    Worry furrowed her brow and whitened her naturally pale skin. The spray of freckles across her nose appeared darker in contrast. Jaylor placed a supporting hand on his wife’s narrow shoulder. Fear crossed Jaylor’s face.
    Yaakke couldn’t penetrate the wall of Jaylor’s thoughts. The apprentice touched the bandages as if to check them. A raw tingle traveled from the wound up through his arms. The weird sensation turned to a burn and then a pulsing jolt that tried to push his hand away or invade his entire body. He wasn’t sure which. He didn’t like the magic scent that suddenly tainted the room.
    “Do what you have to, love,” Jaylor whispered to Brevelan.
    “What does that mean?” Darville clung to Mikka while he fought the pain.
    “There is magic in that wound, Darville. Dark and dangerous magic.” Jaylor refused to look at his friend.
    Yaakke suddenly found the pattern in the rug fascinating. He’d felt death in that wound.
    “We know that. Janataea’s blood was rotten with Tambootie and evil magic. Everywhere it touched me, it burned through clothes and flesh almost to the bone.” Sweat dotted Darville’s brow and his breathing became shallow.
    “This is something more, my dearest friend. I’m going to have to Sing the magic out.” Brevelan clutched her hands in her lap.
    Her healing talent required her to take the alien magic into her own body as well as Darville’s pain. Her healthy body would gradually absorb, then dissipate, whatever was eating away at Darville. Someday, her ability to heal just might kill her.
    “I’ll lend you strength.” Jaylor sat on the floor beside Brevelan, where she knelt at Darville’s feet.
    “As will I.” Mikka plopped down on Brevelan’s other side.
    Yaakke dropped to his knees behind Brevelan, hands on her shoulders. The witchbane was still in her. He’d have to fuel the magic for her Song .
    “No, Mikka.” Jaylor put up a hand to keep the queen beside Darville. “The Council would burn you and depose Darville if they ever found out you participated in magic.”
    “I’m not the one throwing magic tonight.” Mikka planted her clenched fists on her hips and glared at Jaylor. Stubborn determination creased her brow and set her lips into a straight line. “Is lending physical strength magic?”
    Jaylor didn’t answer. Queen Rossemikka had a reputation for