The Dragon Nimbus Novels: Volume I: Volume I

dress as a boy and follow the king on a wild tusker hunt the day he appeared to be outside the old monastery. Her unauthorized actions had given Darville a welcome alibi.
    “Do the king and queen plan to announce this pregnancy?” Jaylor pushed a little of his own magic into the spell, though the girl had initiated it. Her image remained dim and flickered in and out of focus.
    “Not for a while. She’s miscarried so often, they’re afraid of offering false hope of an heir.” The girl paused. Swirls of gray and blue clouded Jaylor’s glass. “I’ve got to go. The queen is calling for me. I wish you would allow me to find other employment in the palace. I hate being indoors all the time as much as I hate cats.”
    “I need you where you are, Margit. Take care of the queen. Try to make her stay in bed as much as possible. Brevelan says . . .” His glass cleared. All he could see through it was the candle flame, greatly magnified.
    “I have to go to Mikka,” Brevelan said from behind him. She grabbed several handfuls of herbs drying in the rafters of their home and stuffed them into her small satchel.
    “You can’t go. It’s not safe, for you or for our baby,” he replied. Gently he touched her slightly swollen belly where she carried their third child. “Our children need you here. You can’t take Glendon with you. One look at him and everyone would know who his father is.”
    “I can help Mikka. I can prevent a miscarriage. I should have gone a long time ago.” Grief and guilt crossed her face.
    “What if you had gone and helped her through a full pregnancy? If anyone suspected her new midwife had any magic, the child would be removed from the succession. They’d suspect the child as a potential witch or, worse, a changeling. Mikka might be put aside, too. No. The fear of magic is too strong in the capital. I won’t risk you. Darville won’t risk the Council sending Mikka back to her brother. That might start a new war with Rossemeyer. We have to find another way to help our friends get an heir.”
    “Mikka loves Darville too much to allow her brother to start a war. She’s close to Rossemanuel. He’ll listen to her.” Brevelan continued packing medicines.
    “Rossemanuel may be king, but he’s still very young. Their uncle’s party rules Rossemeyer. They still control hordes of mercenaries anxious to fight. Coronnan is as good a target as anyplace.”
    “If they are so anxious to fight, why haven’t they joined our war against SeLenicca? Maybe with their active support we could end this stalemate.” Brevelan set her carry pack on the table, next to Jaylor’s glass and candle. “I’ll take the boys over to the apprentice dormitory. Your students need practice in controlling our two hooligans.” A small grin touched the corners of her mouth. Three-year-old Glendon and his two-year-old brother, Lukan, managed to find more mischief than any ten normal boys combined.
    “You must stay here, Brevelan. The journey to the capital is too long. I won’t risk you and the baby.” Jaylor picked up the satchel and began replacing the small crocks and vials of medicine on their shelves.
    “Then send me by the transport spell.” Brevelan returned her potions to the satchel as fast as he removed them.
    “No! I have forbidden the use of that spell except for the most dire emergencies. We haven’t any dragons to guide us through the void. I can’t allow you to go.” Panic sent his heart racing. The thought of losing Brevelan to magic or to those who feared her magic made his world bleak and empty. “Think, Brevelan. Think of the consequences.”
    “Then you will have to find us some dragons. Quickly. Mikka needs me!”
    “I have no one to send in search of Shayla yet. The only alternative is to let me go, as I should have gone three years ago.” Yaakke’s death still weighed heavily on his conscience. When would he have the courage to send another journeyman in search of the dragons?
    “I can’t let you go, Jaylor.” Brevelan clung to him, crying silently.
     
    Queen Rossemikka seems to be barren. The Council looks elsewhere, outside of Coronnan to distant relatives of Darville, for an heir. Rejiia’s son died at birth. Now she has deserted her husband and disappeared from Coronnan. Lord Andrall’s son is mentally defective and hasn’t been considered a possible heir to the Coraurlia for more than twenty years. The Council and the increasingly powerful Gnuls will not countenance