The Dragon Nimbus Novels: Volume I: Volume I

head and pulled the hood of her open cloak over her face to break mental contact with the sorcerer-king. Her mother’s lace shawl seemed to squeeze the breath out of her as she hid from his gaze.
    Queen Miranda moaned and stirred. Tension returned to her muscles. Her mouth opened on a silent scream. A look of panic crossed Simeon’s face. He pressed his fingers to her neck once more as if testing her pulse. The queen slumped back into unconsciousness at his touch.
    “Seize that woman! The one with the lace shawl,” Simeon cried, pointing at Katrina. He held Miranda’s face close against his chest, smothering any sound she might make. “She shot an arrow into the queen’s steed. Seize the one in the black cloak and lace shawl!”
    All eyes turned in the direction he indicated—to stare directly at Katrina. She shrank back behind Iza.
    “I didn’t,” she whispered anxiously.
    “Quick, leave your cloak. Take mine. Blend in with the crowd. Don’t run,” Iza directed as she slipped her ordinary brown cloak over Katrina’s shoulders, obscuring the distinctive lace.
    “I didn’t do it,” Katrina protested, too stunned to follow her friend’s advice.
    “I know that. Only a magician could throw an arrow made of blue light. Now drift away. Don’t call attention to yourself.” Iza shoved Katrina back into the depths of the crowd, then turned to face the grim guards converging on her. Katrina’s thick, black cloak of oiled wool now draped Iza’s shoulders, standing out from the cheap and ordinary coverings protecting working-class citizens. The same cloak Katrina had brought with her from her father’s house three years before.
    More aggressive onlookers elbowed Katrina aside. Shame and guilt warred with her need to put a safe distance between herself and the palace guards. What would they do to Iza, her only friend? She couldn’t watch.
    She had to watch. With renewed determination, Katrina pushed her way back toward Iza. The crowd resisted her efforts.
    “Lose yourself quickly,” an unknown woman whispered as she stepped in front of Katrina. “We can’t hide you much longer.”
    “But Iza . . .” Katrina protested.
    “Save yourself.” The man who had spoken to her earlier picked her up by the waist and set her back down, facing in the other direction. He shoved her hard. “Lose yourself in the alleys; don’t go directly back to the factory. I’ve searched for you and that shawl for a long time. I’ll meet you by the side door of the temple,” he hissed.
    Katrina stumbled. Hands helped her up and eased her away from the center of the action.
    The guards carried Iza away amidst bitter protests from the bystanders. Mud and rocks pelted the guards. More gray-uniformed men entered the fray, clearing a path for their prisoner.
    Katrina was pushed farther and farther away from the core of the riot. Tears streaming down her face, she allowed her anxious feet to speed her toward safety.
    She ran and ran until her sides ached and her lungs threatened to burst. The temple loomed in front of her. The man with the shadowed face offered her safety, freedom. Where had she met him before?
    I’ve searched for you and that shawl for a long time. His words burned into her memory.
    Who was he? A friend of her father’s perhaps. More likely an agent of King Simeon, sent to trick her.
    The familiarity of Brunix and his factory beckoned her. Her life there was hard. But it was safe. She turned and ran again.
    At last the familiar blocky outline of the Brunix factory loomed ahead of her. Grateful for the sanctuary offered by its dark corridors and damp rooms, she pelted headlong for the green-painted doorway.
    Abruptly her flight stopped as she ran into the tall, lean body of Owner Neeles Brunix. He grabbed her shoulders and forced her to look up at him. Up and up she looked to his hollow cheeks and sallow skin. His dark, outland eyes captured hers in an angry gaze.
    “The king’s men will be here soon to search for you,” he announced matter-of-factly as he escorted her inside to his ground floor office.
    “I did nothing but watch!” she sobbed, trying to catch her breath. “I’m innocent.” She leaned over the back of a single straight-backed chair to ease her heaving lungs.
    “No matter. Simeon has decided to have you back. This time you will choose to participate in his ritual rather than suffer death by torture. He has violated his pact with me.”
    Katrina took a long series of deep breaths