The Dragon Nimbus Novels: Volume I: Volume I

looked. Surely they could find something more than a blue cloak for him and a secluded clearing for her!
    “I can take Mica again.” He reached for the little cat hiding her head in the crook of Brevelan’s arm and shivering.
    “No.” A spark of emotion lit Brevelan’s eyes again. She clutched Mica tighter as she pulled out of his reach.
    “Fine. You carry her, or let her walk by herself.” Stargods! He’d been carrying one or another of his companions the entire journey. He felt like a nanny, not a magician within moments of completing his master’s quest.
    There was nothing left to do but trudge on up this endless mountain in search of a mythological dragon. Stubbornly he set one foot in front of the other. He’d find that dragon if it killed him, and he’d drag the others with him whether they liked it or not.
    It was the resolution they both wanted. Wasn’t it?
    “Arroof!” Darville barked and bounded forward.
    “Darville!” Brevelan called.
    In two leaps the wolf was around a bend and out of sight. The cloud came back into Brevelan’s eyes. “Come back, Darville!” Her whisper was plaintive, almost desperate. “Come back to me.”
    The only reply was another sharp bark.
    “You’ve got to catch him, Jaylor. It’s not safe for him to be separated from us.” She clutched his sleeve anxiously.
    Her touch spread warmth up his arm. He wanted to grasp it and hold her close until her eyes sparked with enthusiasm again.
    “Please, Jaylor. You’ve got to catch him,” she implored.
    “Yes.” Briefly he clasped her hand then set off in pursuit. “You can hide in that clump of bushes until we come back for you.”
    His shoulders were tight from carrying first Brevelan and then Darville. She was so small, so special, he’d hardly noticed her weight. Darville, on the other hand, had been heavier than Jaylor thought possible. He knew the beast was big for a wolf, but he’d weighed as much as a man.
    Darville is a man. He only appears to be a wolf, Jaylor reminded himself.
    “Arroo, arroo, arroo, roo roo.” Darville’s concentrated bay announced his excitement.
    Energy surged through Jaylor’s limbs, his heart pounded faster. The wolf would only howl like that if he encountered another being.
    “Darville!” he called.
    “Darville!” Brevelan echoed just behind.
    He turned to prevent her from rushing forward. A few tendrils of bright red hair sprang from her once neat braid. Her eyes looked as huge as the Great Bay and sparked with an intense glow of protectiveness.
    “Wait.” Jaylor stopped long enough to halt her headlong dash around the next bend. A large everblue with needles as long as his hand obscured his view. Beyond it a Tambootie soared, blocking the sun. In its shadow anything could lurk unseen.
    He swallowed deeply to clear his mind of the wonderful vision of Brevelan. Her lips pursed in determination, and there was a light of battle in her eyes. As she hurried, her breasts strained the fabric of her bodice while her skirt was kilted up to allow her legs freedom. Would she ever dash to his rescue in such an immodest manner?
    “Wait, Brevelan.”
    “But. . . .”
    “Let me see what awaits us first.” He didn’t pause for an answer, or another protest.
    Tambootie! Hot and sharp. A wave of pure magic assaulted him as he rounded the bend. He walked into a palpitating miasma of the stuff. His eyes watered, his skin tingled. Power invaded his entire body. All of a sudden his tongue was too big for his mouth and seemed to fill his ears as well. Even his hair itched.
    Memories surged through him with each straining heartbeat.
    He was back in that stone room filled with cloying smoke. Ogres and snakes assaulted him and dispersed with a word. His pulse pounded, then stuttered. He fought to draw air into his belabored lungs.
    Sharp mountain breezes stung him back to reality. This time there were no walls to close in on him. He was out in fresh air with companions to help, if he needed them. He thought he was prepared for whatever the smoke could make him see. The reality in front of him was no match for delusion.
    Shayla dipped her head in greeting.
     
    “Master,” the kitchen boy peeked over a pile of books, “I think I’ve found somethin’.” He sat cross-legged on the cold stone floor of the hidden room.
    Baamin looked across the waist-high stacks of discarded volumes piled between them. Not all of the books in the sealed room were as fragile as the first one he had