The Dragon Nimbus Novels: Volume I: Volume I

scene he had not seen the night before. Morning mist clung to the valleys and ravines while the mountain peaks soared above to pierce a cloudless sky. Below, the forest stretched, seemingly forever. Vibrant greens and blues of early spring shimmered in the sunrise.
    The last of the winter browns faded beneath the new growth. He picked out the bright and dark pattern of new growth on the everblues. Nestled here and there among them were the flat-topped Tambootie. This far up the mountain the trees of magic hadn’t been destroyed by superstition and the need for more pasturage. The area was even too remote for the greedy copper miners who sought the veins of ore beneath the roots.
    His body tingled as he caught a whiff of the pungent bark. Clean and crisp. A healthy smell, totally different from the reek of the evil associated with the Tambootie smoke.
    Jaylor gasped a lungful of cold air. The beauty of Coronnan lay before him, as he had never seen it before.
    Old-timers called this dragon weather: a little rain in the night, sunshine and beauty during the day.
    The weight of his quest settled upon his shoulders. Baamin said the dragons were ill, needing a magic medicine to bring the nimbus up to strength. Were they merely ill, or were they being killed?
    The embankment was steep and slippery from the rain. Saber ferns grew in profusion here, but they offered no handhold. He dug in his heels to keep from sliding headlong into the briskly flowing water of the creek. His boots stirred the damp earth. He smelled the cloying sweetness of crushed rose-lichen where his boots slipped in the mud. A nubby-berry bush snagged his leather shirt. These hazards were familiar.
    He splashed a handful of cold water over his face, carefully at first. His ablutions became more lavish after the initial shock of the icy creek, restoring his natural assurance and good humor.
    Wolf was not as cautious with the embankment or the cold water. He dashed down the bank to plunge into the water. He emerged with a gleeful grin on his face, water dripping from his coat.
    Jaylor was reminded of the youthful prankster he had known several years ago. Roy’s tutors had driven the boy to become more serious, pushing responsibility onto his young shoulders.
    Jaylor hadn’t seen much of his friend in the last two years. He didn’t slip away from his duties to explore life in the city anymore.
    Instead, he took to riding his steeds long and hard. Always, there was a cohort of soldiers to guard him.
    No wonder he organized long hunts at every opportunity. During a chase he could escape the suffocating presence of others and forget his responsibilities for a while.
    Cold water splashed across Jaylor’s leather trews. He stepped back, laughing. Wolf looked up, an entreating gleam in his eye. “Sorry, fellow. There isn’t time today for a romp in the water. We have to find ourselves a dragon.”
    Wolf cocked his head, as if trying to understand. He splashed again, then bounded out of the water, spreading almost as much liquid in his path as he left in the creek. He shook a few of the clinging drops from his fur.
    Jaylor could almost see the wolf’s thoughts. He didn’t feel right, so he took a step closer to Jaylor before shaking again.
    In his haste to step away from the cascade Jaylor slipped in the mud. “S’murgh it!” he cursed as he landed on his backside. “You had to do that, you miserable beast.”
    Once again Wolf cocked his head in curiosity. The movement brought another small spray of water across Jaylor’s shirt.
    “Watch it, Wolf. You’d feel cold without all that fuzz. Spray me again and I’ll shave you bald,” he threatened with a laugh.
    Jaylor anchored his awareness in the reality of his surroundings. There was the damp earth and fresh leaves of the growing trees. Birds were awake and chirping now. Below him the creek danced over rocks on its downhill journey. Above him was just the faintest trace of woodsmoke. Brevelan must have stoked the fire.
    She would be cooking breakfast. Grains with a wild nutty flavor. If it were later in the season, he could gather some nubby-berries to sweeten their morning meal. Perhaps Brevelan would throw some dried fruit into the pot. A hot drink would taste good, too. Jaylor’s mouth watered in anticipation. A proper meal would go a long way toward giving him the strength to confront a magic dragon.
    “Come, Puppy. We need to get back to Brevelan.” He started up the hill