The Dragon Nimbus Novels: Volume I: Volume I

cradle of his arms as black spots swam before his eyes. “There is no one else left to do it.”
    (You cannot heal me while we are within the realm of The Simeon,) Shayla said. Her mental voice was weak with weariness and pain. (There is not enough magic to support your spell and you do not know how to gather the magic we provide.)
    “I can’t leave you here,” Jack protested. “If only you could fly to Coronnan. With one strong ley line beneath my feet I could draw enough magic to work the spell.”
    (You have helped the pain a little. Not enough to allow me to fly.)
    “What you need is a patch,” Fraank offered.
    “A patch?” Hope brightened within Jack. His stomach settled and his vision cleared. “A patch. Something light, but dense so it will float on the air like a kite, but strong enough to support the wing. What can we use?” Mentally he sorted through the contents of the packs they had stolen from the mine storeroom. An extra shirt apiece for himself and Fraank. A rectangle of rough canvas for a tent in rainy weather. Some food and cooking oddments.
    “We don’t have anything like that with us, Jack,” Fraank told him needlessly.
    “In the villages we passed through, the women were weaving. If we coat the fabric with a spell to resemble candle wax?” Jack tried picturing the looms and cloth. “Too coarse and loosely woven,” he dismissed that idea.
    “What you need is a piece of lace,” Frank suggested. “Lace made from Tambrin!”
    “Tambrin?” Jack’s mind sped faster than he heard and comprehended.
    “Thread spun from the inner bark of Tambootie seedlings. It’s very rare and expensive, but it makes the best lace in the world.”
    “Tambootie seedlings,” Jack groaned. Memories of his triumph at stopping a smuggler’s ship full of immature trees weighed heavily on him. He remembered a long conversation with Fraank about the investment syndicate and the seedlings. If the ship had won through to SeLenicca three years ago, then the precious thread, with magic potential imbued in its fibers, would be plentiful now.
    But if the ship had won through, Fraank probably wouldn’t have gotten into trouble with King Simeon and wound up in the mines beside Jack to give him that precious information now.
    (You must travel to Queen’s City, Jack,) Shayla ordered. (There you will find what you need. You will find your destiny. Find it before The Simeon comes again at the Solstice.)
    (She is correct, son. Today the servants of The Simeon come for you, not for Shayla.) The dictatorial tones of the blue-tipped male brooked no argument.
    “That’s barely two moons from now!” Jack protested anyway. “Fraank and I will need nearly a full moon to get to the city.”
    “Then you must leave me behind.” Fraank straightened his shoulders with pride. His throat convulsed with a suppressed cough. “You’ll make the journey in a week or less without me holding you back.”
    “I can’t leave you for Simeon’s men to find and enslave again.” Jack stumbled to his friend’s side.
    (We will protect your friend as one of our own.)
    “I won’t live to see my home again, Jack. We both know I’m dying. You must seek out my daughter, Katrina, when you reach the city. She will help you find the right piece of lace.”
    “Will she be able to get this Tambrin thread?”
    (You must take gold to buy the thread,) Shayla advised.
    “ ’Twould be easier to transport the trees to Queen’s City for spinning than to find gold,” Jack muttered.
    (Not a bad idea, son,) the blue-tip added with a draconic chuckle. (But dragons have gold. We treasure it nearly as much as humans do. I will fetch you some from our secret hoard.)
    “I have a name, Master Dragon!” Jack nearly stamped his foot in frustration.
    (You chose a name out of legend, the name of a man who saved Coronnan more than once. To use the name ‘Yaakke, son of Yaacob the Usurper’ you must earn it. Bring back a suitable piece of lace made of Tambrin before midsummer.)
    That was why he hadn’t dredged his name out of his memory upon first awakening in the mine, nor used it since: he hadn’t earned it yet.
     
    Curses on Darville and his queen. They have named my sister’s oldest son heir to Coronnan. A proclamation of legitimacy has been dispatched throughout the land. Curiously, the boy is to be left with his mother because of his young age. I wonder if Brevelan and Jaylor are unwilling to give up the child.
    The rift in their