The Dragon Nimbus Novels: Volume I: Volume I

fury diminished, the wolf looked up to Jaylor as if to say, “Shall we go on home?” With his head tilted just so, his chin lifted and his golden eyes blinking up at Jaylor, Wolf looked so intelligent, almost as if a human soul resided within his body.
    The Rovers had never found two of their missing men. Jaylor had the sudden urge to talk to Baamin. He needed to know more about dragon-dreams leading men astray. Dragons were the essence of magic. Could their illusions transform a man into a wild creature? And what of his friend back in Coronnan City? Jaylor desperately wanted reassurance that Roy had returned to the capital.
     
    Stargods! I need to end this farce soon. I can’t tolerate any more delays. Time is running short. I have eliminated or bribed more than one old fool in the Commune. Some of the students have talent. But they are gone, dispersed, chasing wild lumbirds. Even this one, who has found the wolf is only pretending to do magic.
    I am the only one in Coronnan who can use the real power. Throwing dragon magic is child’s play, a child size power.
    Tomorrow I will finish the job. I must push the journeyman and the witchwoman to lead me to the dragon. The witchwoman is elusive. But I think I know her secret now. The wolf and the cat, even the rabbits and squirrels return to the clearing easily. Only people are kept out. There is a trick I must try.
    First, I must take something for this headache. A little Tambootie ought to do the job. It will also prepare me for the task at hand.

Chapter 9
     
    J aylor fed another branch into the fire. His lean-to was in place. The physical labor had acted as a release for the questions that churned in his mind.
    He clutched Mica to his chest for warmth against the chill of his purpose. She purred in rhythm with his agitated pulse. Was summoning a master while on quest in violation of the complex rules?
    Jaylor moved his staff within easy reach of his hand. The plaited grain of the once smooth oak offered reassurance. In these uncertain times, he might need the stronger focus for his magic even though the moon was full.
    When he’d cut the staff in the heart of the sacred grove, just before beginning his quest, the branch had called to him, claiming him as its owner. At the time, the wood had been straight and smooth. Every time he used this tool the grain bent and coiled, taking on a pattern similar to a loose braid. The more often he used the staff the stronger the communication between them grew. He needed to use the staff. The staff needed to be used by him.
    He folded his long legs underneath him and sat facing the blaze. There was enough fuel to keep it burning for quite a while without attention. He extracted from his pack a small oblong of glass not much larger than Brevelan’s tiny palm. This was his first viewer, given to him as an apprentice, much more portable than the slightly larger, brass-framed glass he had earned as a journeyman.
    One of Brevelan’s soothing songs drifted across the cool evening air. He allowed it to wrap his mind in comfort and relax his body.
    Mica purred louder, harmonizing with the wordless tune. She butted her head against his chin. He stroked the cat’s unusual fur in rhythm with his breathing. Her warmth settled him.
    Jaylor focused on the seething green center of a flame. The glass brought it closer, enlarged it until the fire filled his vision. Gradually, he drew the flame into his consciousness.
    The part of him that was aware of the night—listening to Brevelan’s song, chilling in the rustling wind, feeling the hard ground beneath his butt—separated from his magic. The rest of him hovered near the void and knew only the flame. He breathed deeper, deeper. The flame in the glass grew cool and distant. It jumped to the edge of the clearing. There it paused, hesitant to break the armor. Jaylor pushed it onward.
    A tiny flicker of magic fire climbed hills, skimmed over the bay, seeking, always seeking. Through the forests and down the broad highway to the capital, it drew ever closer to a familiar mind. When it found the barrier of the mighty Coronnan River, it paused to gather strength, then jumped the channels twisting around the city and wound its way through the alleyways with growing urgency until it found the University and the one window that faced the courtyard. Light flowed from the window, drawing the tiny flame. Like seeking like.
    It slid up the stone walls and glided through the opening to merge with a