The Dragon Nimbus Novels: Volume I: Volume I

important task of stroking fur in rhythm with his breathing.
    Mica had often done the same when she had aided his spells. For all of her human intelligence, Mica had adapted to her cat body and instincts very well. Rosse, the cat who had inherited the princess’ body, hadn’t been quite so adaptable.
    And now the two spirits were joined in Rossemikka’s human body.
    He sighed, still missing Darville. The necessary silence between them had gone on much longer than either had expected. Margit’s reports of the king’s and queen’s daily activities didn’t feel the same as speaking directly with his best friend.
    Enough speculation on the politics. Jaylor had news for his two journeymen. Yaakke was alive! The ball of witchlight had left a magic trace in the same direction Marcus and Robb had taken. He must contact the boys tonight, before they slipped around the armies guarding the pass and entered SeLenicca.
    Jaylor had a feeling that his former apprentice was in trouble. Otherwise he wouldn’t have sent such an unorthodox message after three years of silence.
    I am Yaakke and I am alive.
    Alive but not well; not returning; not capable of sending a normal summons spell.
    Jaylor added another branch to the fire, to keep it going for the duration of the spell. As the flames caught, he breathed deeply, once, twice, thrice. The void beckoned him. He ignored the enticement of sending himself instead of his thoughts into the spell.
    His trance settled comfortably on his mind and body. Cat purred and kneaded dough on the fabric of his trews. The flames grew larger, more animate in his mind’s eye. A hand that might have been his, but seemed unattached to an arm, brought a large glass into view. The gold rim of the precious tool sparkled in the firelight. The images seen through the magnification grew even larger.
    Carefully, Jaylor plucked one particularly lively flame from its greedy feeding on the wood. A thought melded the flame into the spells surrounding the glass. Then a gentle nudge and the flame surged outward, seeking. Seeking another flame hovering within a glass.
    Down the foothills, through the forest and across rich farmland the flame traveled. Southward toward mountains. Mountains that were once rich in ore and covered in trees but were now barren and mined out. The flame traveled along blue lines of magical power. The magic trapped within the planet gave speed and ease to the journey.
    At the mundane border, the flame hesitated. All of the blue lines ended abruptly—burned out centuries ago. The spark hovered, looking south and north, looking west and east. It wanted to retreat, back along the magic lines. Jaylor pushed it forward. The flame sputtered and tried to die.
    Sweat broke out on Jaylor’s physical body while his mind guided and fed the flame. Another bit of fire. He urged the traveling spark of his spell to seek another flame, any flame to renew itself.
    He cast his senses farther, in all directions. No presence touched him with magic. No living person lived within a league of the spot where the flame flickered and tried once more to die.
    Impossible. Last night Marcus and Robb had been camped on this particular ley line. Surely they couldn’t have traveled farther in one day. Even if they had ridden fleet steeds, they should be within sensing distance of this summons.
    He tried another direction. Hundreds of campfires dotted the landscape, separated by an invisible line. The front. Two armies faced each other in silent impasse. The flame brightened as it neared others of its kind. None of them were magnified by a glass, or a bowl of water, or a ball of witchlight. The flame flickered and hesitated.
    Jaylor’s body sagged, drained of strength. Hastily he pulled the flame back into his glass. He couldn’t allow the spell to leave a telltale that could be traced back to him, should a magician from either army discover any residual power. The secret location of Brevelan’s clearing must remain secret.
    Robb and Marcus knew how to find the clearing and the sprawling buildings of the University just beyond.
    Jaylor sent the flame seeking for a presence again. Nothing. What if the young men had been kidnapped or conscripted into one of the armies? Rovers or solitary rogues could overpower the two young men, not yet fully grown into their powers. Armor was easy to erect around magical minds. An adept rogue would know the boys were in touch with their master and would shield against future