The Dragon Nimbus Novels: Volume I: Volume I

I dared not stay on the roads, so I made my way through the forest. There was no one I trusted to help me. The animals gave me shelter.”
    Jaylor couldn’t see the specific images she remembered. Her emotions became his own, though.
    “Which animal gave you the knowledge about eating timboor?” The berries usually grew on higher branches, seeking the sun. Her helper couldn’t be a ground feeder like the timid deer or rabbit.
    “A gray bear.” A smile touched her lips.
    He felt her humor touch him as well.
    “Most sane people would run from a gray bear.”
    “Especially a female protecting her young.”
    Jaylor grew colder from his core outward. Gray bears had a reputation for being particularly nasty, vicious even, when in the best of humor. A protective mother bear could rend a strong man limb from limb. Trees were no protection from the beasts. They could climb better than most cats.
    “Next you’ll be telling me she protected and fed you like her own cub.” He stared at her, wanting to disbelieve. No one should be so powerful as to tame a gray bear. Or was it her gentleness that undermined overt strength? The power of this kind of magic awed him.
    “What did the timboor do to you?”
    She hesitated. Her eyes sought the dark corners of their shelter. When she looked back at him, he stretched out a hand to shield her from her own bewilderment.
    “I could hear everything, the tiniest rustle among the ferns, the faintest bird song. I could even hear the tug and chomp of rabbits feeding.” She looked away again when she mentioned the most silent of all animals. “The most astonishing sounds were the thoughts of the people I encountered. But I was safe then because I could tell if they recognized me, knew of those who pursued me.”
    Jaylor nodded in agreement. This sounded like his own experience. “Were your other senses affected: sight, smell?”
    “Yes.” There was more. He could tell from the way she refused to hold his eyes with her own.
    “When you didn’t want to be seen . . .” he prompted.
    “How did you know?” She looked up, startled.
    “The same thing happened to me,” he reassured her. “I have some timboor in my pack. If we each take a berry, I don’t think we could be found.”
    She nodded, then hid her face again in the cat’s fur. “Puppy and Mica?”
    “They are not creatures of magic. The berries will poison them.” She looked up in dismay at his words. He felt a tug at his heart. He wanted, and needed, to put the sparkle of well-being back into her eyes. “I think our aura of invisibility will extend to those we love.” He was the only one who needed to eat of the timboor. He realized at that moment that his love should surround Brevelan with protection for the rest of his days.
     
    Why had she told him so much about her past? Brevelan had revealed more to this strange man in a few days than to anyone else in her entire life.
    Too many people misunderstood her magic. They reacted with fear, or cruelty bred from fear. So she hid her innermost thoughts and feelings. Her family and acquaintances had known only as much about her as they could guess from her actions.
    After the death of her husband, she knew she had to flee her home or be burned as a witch. She scooted away from the warmth of the flames.
    Mica protested the movement.
    Brevelan soothed her with a few distracted strokes. Her mind refused to move from the images she had dragged out of her memory.
    Another woman accused of witchcraft. An old woman who had taught Brevelan much about the nature of plants, which healed and how, as well as which killed. Lord Krej sitting in judgment, not allowing the poor woman to speak any defense. Then the punishment. All in the district had been required to watch.
    Death by fire. Clouds of oily black smoke.
    Her mother whispering in her ear that this would be Brevelan’s fate if Krej heard of her healing ability.
    Heat, pain. No air.
    Her breaths were sharp and difficult. Heat seared her throat with each gulp of air. And when it was all over and the ashes scattered across the bay, a triumphant Krej had taken four virgins back to his castle.
    “Brevelan!” Jaylor’s hand on her shoulder broke the images. “Brevelan, what happened? What did you see in the flames?” He shook her free of her memories with anxious hands.
    “Nothing,” she lied. The look in his eyes told her he knew it was not the truth. “I was just thinking.”
    “Or remembering,” he stated