The Dragon Nimbus Novels: Volume I: Volume I

need to save that wolf. She needed help.
    “The last time I saw this place was through Shayla’s eyes.” She gulped in an effort to return to her own body, her own emotions. “Darville was below, injured, and she couldn’t get to him to help him.” She opened her eyes again and looked at Jaylor. Just as Puppy was drawing support from her, she needed the magician’s calming presence to relate the rest of the story.
    “That was the first time Shayla spoke to me. She needed my help. At her prodding, I was compelled to follow her lead and take Darville back to my hut.” She relived the moment when another mind had invaded her own. She was used to animals calling to her in their time of need. But never before had an empathic link been so verbal, so intelligent and overwhelming.
    Always before, and since, she’d had the choice to refuse the animal. But not that one time.
    Not until she had dragged the wolf on a blanket, through the growing blizzard to the safety and warmth of her own hearth, had Shayla released her from the compulsion.
    “And the dragon checked on him daily, told you his name? Are you certain Darville is the name she gave him?” Jaylor touched her shoulder. His brown eyes widened. Worry creased his brow as confusion clouded his emotions.
    Brevelan nodded. “I’ve never understood why she protected him so fiercely. It would have been easier for her to make a meal of him. I’m glad she didn’t.” She hugged Puppy close again. “The winter was long and lonely. He kept me busy, kept me company. Shayla was someone to talk to when I craved the sound of words. They are my family now.”
    “And you never questioned the name Shayla gave the wolf?” He paced back and forth in front of her, dangerously close to the edge of the cliff. He seemed oblivious to the crumbling rocks in his agitation.
    “Yes, I questioned Shayla,” Brevelan defended herself. “The only answer I received was, ‘That is his name.’ ”
    Jaylor stopped his pacing abruptly. “Darville is his name,” he echoed her words. “ Darville is his name. Stargods! It can’t be. It just can’t be.” He rubbed his hand across his eyes then looked more closely at the wolf.
    “What can’t be, Jaylor?” Brevelan held tighter to her pet, filling her hands with his long fur.
    “Why didn’t you tell me this before? I could have consulted Baamin and found out for sure.” He fumbled in the packs. Clothing and provisions went flying as he sought some object of dire importance.
    “Found out what, Jaylor?” Brevelan refolded his spare shirt and gathered her packets of grain and dried fruit.
    “You don’t know?” He sat back on his heels and stared at her openmouthed.
    “Know what?” she demanded, exasperated at his thick male understanding.
    “When I left Coronnan City a few weeks after the solstice, Prince Darville had been missing almost a full moon. We were friends. When I asked to see him, to say good-bye, I was told he was in a monastery contemplating an unfortunate dalliance with a lady. The Darville I grew up with never regretted any of his encounters with ladies. The Darville I knew had no time for quiet contemplation and far too much energy for cloistered celibacy.”
    “So?”
    “So, I believe the tale was a cover-up. The king and my master are close friends. They are hiding the fact that Darville is missing.”
    “Are you suggesting that this animal is our prince? Don’t be ridiculous.”
    “Dragons and the royal family are connected by tradition, honor, and blood. Shayla is bound by instinct and magic to protect those with royal blood. Do you have any other explanation for her ties to a scruffy golden wolf named Darville?”
    Jaylor’s words chilled her.
    “Are you telling me that my wolf is part of the royal family?” Disbelief and understanding warred within her.
    “He is not just a wolf. Look at him. Really look at him. Do you see the intelligence in his eyes?” He held an oblong of glass between her and the wolf. “Look through the glass and tell me he is just a wolf!”
    Brevelan clung to Puppy’s thick fur. He smelled of dog, and fresh air, and the plants he had brushed along the way. His tongue panted in the slight breeze, radiating heat. He swallowed, then licked her cheek in affection.
    Darville had become a part of her life, a very important part. She had told him things she would not confide to another human, shared her home, her food, her love with a beast. She refused to believe he was