The Dragon Nimbus Novels: Volume I: Volume I

bird’s feathers. He wished fervently that Corby would learn to keep his thoughts to himself. “Some familiar. You cause more trouble than you help me get out of,” he whispered under his breath.
    “Trouble, trouble, trouble,” Corby repeated.
    “What is the meaning of this disturbance?” Brunix burst into the room. He glared fiercely at Katrina. A gesture of his head toward the stairs dismissed her.
    His dramatic dressing gown of black and purple draped around his elongated figure, and the arrogant gesture toward Katrina reminded Jack of Zolltarn, the Rover king, dressed in black and purple. Whatever blood kinship Jack might share with the two unscrupulous men, his armor remained firmly in place without conscious reinforcement.
    The intruder in the gray of the palace guard seemed to assess the true authority in the factory within a heartbeat. Immediately all of his concentration turned to Brunix.
    “I search this factory with a warrant from the king,” the magician announced. “Rumors of the forbidden use of Tambrin have reached the ears of the palace lacemakers.”
    “Then search openly and honestly,” Brunix defied the man. “I dare you to find anything in this building that is not authorized and approved by the king personally.”
    Really? Jack wondered. What about the Tambrin on Katrina’s pillow? What about the mysterious piece designed by her mother?
    Now that Jack had felt Tambrin, he knew he’d never mistake any other fiber for the shimmering white thread that glowed with magic. Katrina’s lace sent tingles of power up his arms. His fingers had never made contact with the lace. He didn’t need to get any closer to it than a finger-length to recognize the energy stored within the depths of any Tambootie tree. A tree that was poison to mundanes and led magicians into irreversible insanity. Only dragons consumed it with impunity.
    Jack faded into the background. Let Brunix and the agent of King Simeon settle the issue of the warrant between themselves.
    He found himself standing beside Katrina in the dim hallway. A faint tingle of power pulsed from the ground beneath her feet. He squinted and detected traces of silvery blue. A ley line? Interesting.
    He edged closer, seeking the source. The girl or the land?
    “Do not touch me!” she hissed so that only he could hear. “You are a magician. A dark-eyed magician. I saw the witchlight and your delusion! There cannot be two such as you. ’Twas you who interfered with the shipment of Tambootie seedlings. ’Twas you who bankrupted my father, killed my sister, and drove my mother to suicide.”

Chapter 29
     
    ‘ D id King Simeon plant you in this factory to spy on me, to find some new way to torment and destroy me?” Katrina backed away from the magician. The anger and hatred she’d carefully nursed for three years burned cold and clear in her mind.
    “The sorcerer-king is more my enemy than yours.” He followed her retreat, never allowing more than two steps between them.
    “I doubt that. Who has lost more, suffered more at his hands than I?” One step up the stairs. He closed the distance. She could feel the heat of his body, see a pulse beating anxiously in his neck. His pet crow had flown off when Brunix arrived. Now it landed two steps above her. She couldn’t retreat much farther without disturbing the noisy bird and drawing more attention to herself.
    “The soldiers who die by the dozens, cold and hungry, bogged down in mud up to their knees, with disease plaguing their ranks more than the enemy ever could, have lost as much. That goes for both armies. All because ruining SeLenicca isn’t enough. King Simeon has to conquer more.”
    “We need trade to stay alive. Coronnan is rich with farmland and resources but has repeatedly denied us access to them, even though we pay for them!” The argument was old, repeated often. “Coronnan has to be responsible for the food shortages, the unemployment, the . . .” Her words trailed off.
    “SeLenicca could grow its own food, become self-sufficient if Simeon would let you.”
    “No. ’Twould blaspheme the Stargods. We are the Chosen. The resources were provided for us to exploit.”
    “In Coronnan, we believe ourselves to be the Chosen and our duty is to nurture the land and ourselves, in memory of the bounty bestowed by the Stargods. SeLenicca has been methodically stripped, rather than nourished, for a thousand years. But this political argument doesn’t settle the conflict