The Dragon Nimbus Novels: Volume I: Volume I

life for a hearty swig of beta’arack, distilled from the monster treacle betas grown only in Rossemeyer. But he couldn’t afford to befuddle any of his senses right now.
    One of the kitchen boys crept into the room, wide-eyed and fearful. About ten or eleven years ago, the orphan, known only as “Boy,” had been sent to the University from the poorhouse, one of many foundlings indentured each year. Boy was so late in developing that he couldn’t be tested for magical talent. He was unusually slow at his lessons and undersized, but he worked hard and was willing to please, almost to a fault. He had his uses, especially when Baamin needed errands completed in secret.
    “I needs to talk to someone, sir. Somethin’ strange has been happening.” An understatement to say the least.
    Baamin sighed. The boy was proud of the trust Baamin seemingly had in him—trust only because the boy was too stupid to disobey. Now Boy came to the master with his troubles and triumphs, chattering freely when no one else in the University dared approach. It was Baamin’s own fault.
    “What sort of strange things? In the kitchen?” Probably the only normal portion of the University. Apprentice magicians were encouraged to experiment with fledgling powers anywhere but the kitchen. Cooking fires and carving knives were too dangerous for practice.
    “Yes, sir. In the kitchen.” The boy’s eyes widened, deep dark eyes whose innocence wormed into Baamin’s cynical heart.
    Baamin nodded encouragement. This might be something he needed to know about. Boy had his uses.
    “I’m used to the apprentices snitching deserts and such. ’Specially the brandied fruit when they can’t get to the wine. Some even try the cooking wine.”
    Baamin allowed himself a small laugh. Apprentices only tried that trick once. Cooking wine was salted for a very good reason.
    The boy grinned back. For a moment, with that lopsided smile, he almost looked intelligent.
    “Happens all the time. Sweets mostly. This mornin’, though, it was more than strange. Someone was magically carving big hunks of meat off the spit, while it was still cooking.”
    “Growing boys have big appetites. There have never been restrictions on how much they eat. Magic takes a lot out of a body. Probably some journeyman just finishing an experiment.” But not many journeymen were left. All but the very newest were out on quest.
    “That I know, sir. And I wouldn’t question it, ’cept when the plate was full it disappeared, just like that.” He snapped his fingers. His eyes looked straight into Baamin’s once more, begging for belief.
    “It what?” Baamin sat up straight. “Has someone learned Jaylor’s trick?” Jaylor’s talent hovered too close to rogue manipulation of the elements. If another student was developing this strange talent, Baamin needed to investigate and corral him.
    With the decrease in the dragon nimbus, there wasn’t as much magic in the air. Magicians trained in gathering magic could easily find rogue sources. The practice must be stopped until Baamin, the senior magician, had learned to direct and control those powers.
    “That’s what I thought, sir. Until the plate was returned to the scullery for washing. Only Jaylor does that. And he ain’t here, hasn’t been for moons.”
    And shouldn’t be anywhere within magic range of the University either. S’murgh it, Baamin knew he shouldn’t have allowed Jaylor out of his sight.
    Baamin stared at his viewing glass. It was a big, master’s glass, nearly as large as his hand. He could read the most obscure texts with it. Or contact someone anywhere in the kingdom when he was awake and alert. Jaylor’s smaller glass couldn’t provide enough power for a summons, let alone to transport food, unless. . . .
    “There’s somethin’ else, sir.” The boy peered at him from under his forelock. “Several days ago a wine cup showed up in the scullery while I was washing up after dinner. Didn’t hardly notice it. Guess I just forgot who was here and who was out. Then a few minutes later one of your washbasins shows up. It had to be Jaylor. No one else cares how much work they make for me. They just leave cups and dishes all over. In their rooms, the library, classrooms. Even in the stable, sir.”
    Warmed up, the boy might rattle on forever. Baamin had heard enough.
    “I’m glad you came to me, Boy. I think one of the apprentices may have learned something from Jaylor and just taken his time