The Dragon Nimbus Novels: Volume I: Volume I

communication.
    Jaylor looked closer for an absence. Sometimes the easiest way to find a person was to find the nothing they hid within.
    The flame found vast acres of hills and river valleys, some lush, some barren. It skimmed around scrubby bushes and dipped into burned-out and charred power lines. Across and back it flew, still seeking. Together in spirit, the flame and Jaylor crisscrossed every inch of land within a dozen leagues of Marcus and Robb’s last known camping spot.
    The landscape was as it should be. There were no holes and no lives. The military encampment sheltered, among the soldiers of Coronnan, several latent talents who didn’t respond to the whisper of the flame. Nor did the powerful magicians on the western side of the pass understand the address of the summons. Marcus and Robb had vanished, as if they had never been.
    They had to have been kidnapped. By whom and how? Not just anyone could make two magicians disappear beyond the reach of the Senior Magician of the Commune. That someone was an enemy to be reckoned with.
    How much coercion could the two journeymen endure before they revealed every secret they knew? Including Queen Mikka’s magical talent. Secrets that could be sold to a frightened Council of Provinces and the remnants of the Gnul conspiracy.
    With sickening abruptness, Jaylor dropped back into his body from his trance. No time now to cater to a bouncing stomach and reeling vision.
    “I’ve got to hide Brevelan and the boys. We aren’t safe here anymore.”
    Marcus and Robb! Jaylor choked a moment in grief. He was Master now. The safety and well-being of those two boys fell on his shoulders. He’d sent them on their quest too soon. Just as he had with Yaakke. None of them were ready for the responsibilities and rigors of a quest.
    He rose to his knees and doused the campfire with dirt. He didn’t have time for regret and sorrow. More lives than two journeymen who knew the risks were at stake.
    “What have I done to you? Lost. Yaakke, Marcus, Robb. All lost.” He sent a silent prayer for their safety even as he ran the length of the clearing to begin the work of moving his family and his University where no one could find them.
     
    As Jack led Lanciar and Fraank down the far side of the pass, the wind died and the sun broke free of the early morning cloud cover. Corby squawked and sprang from his perch on Jack’s shoulder into the air, flapping his wings noisily. His tail rose convulsively and let drop a smelly white blob, inches from Jack’s boot.
    “Filthy bird!” He stumbled slightly as he hopped to avoid the splatter.
    “Crawk!” The bird answered back crankily.
    “You’re so ornery maybe I should call you Baamin, ” Jack mused.
    “Newak,” the bird gave a negative reply, almost indignantly. “Corby, Corby, Corby.” He resumed his flight path and quickly gained enough altitude to catch a rising current of warm air. Gliding effortlessly, he soared in lazy circles above their heads.
    For a moment, Jack envied the bird its freedom. If he could fly like that, he’d be over Shayla’s lair in a matter of hours instead of the week he estimated the journey would take. Maybe longer if Fraank’s breathing didn’t improve.
    Lanciar didn’t look too healthy this morning either. His first foray into the realm of magic had left him limp and drained, too tired to eat. Without food he’d never replenish the energy that magic depleted. The dry journey rations in their packs were unappetizing on a healthy stomach. Maybe the mountain village just below the pass would feed them, give them warm shelter for a night or two.
    Fresh meat. Milk full of rich cream. Bread hot from the oven. Jack’s mouth watered and he lengthened his stride in anticipation.
    Ten more steps, around a boulder and under an overhang, brought him to a point where he could see far out across the lower slopes of the mountain range. Hill after barren hill rolled out in a wide vista. Pockets of morning mist clung to the valleys. A few small and isolated trees struggled toward sunlight in inaccessible ravines.
    And not a rooftop in sight.
    Jack looked up at the circling jackdaw, trying to peer through the bird’s eyes as he had once before.
    “Croawk!” The cranky bird chose that moment to slip into a new updraft and out of sight behind the boulders.
    Jack’s probe went astray. “Dragon dung! How are you supposed to become my familiar if you won’t stick around long enough to be familiar?” He