The Dragon Nimbus Novels: Volume I: Volume I

touched. Many, especially those hidden behind the first layer, were in pristine condition. Evidence of the power of the original spell despite the haste of its construction. The outer row were mostly history chronicles, familiar and of no particular value. Behind them were books he had never seen.
    “What, Boy? What have you found?” He breathed in a mouthful of mold and began to cough again, even as he reached across the lopsided stack to grasp whatever the boy held. The cold and dust crept into his old body, making his movement stiff and awkward.
    “An old book, sir. Real old. I don’t even recognize the writin’, sir.” He held up his treasure, open to the title page.
    The strange script wiggled across the page like so many snakes. Words and images started to form in Baamin’s mind but would not take hold. This was definitely a book of magic, very old magic. He doubted he could make writing confuse a reader like that. His discomforts were forgotten in his growing excitement.
    Out of habit, Baamin calmed his mind and stilled his body, as if gathering magic. When he opened his eyes the letters held their place and formed words.
    PRIVATE JOURNAL OF NIMBULAN:
MAGICIAN TO THE KINGS
FATHER OF DRAGONS
VICTIM OF THE WARS OF DISRUPTION
     
    The last line was written in the same but an older and shakier hand, in a different ink. It appeared to be almost a postscript.
    “Nimbulan!” Baamin breathed his excitement outward this time.
    “Founder of the University. He’s the greatest magician known.” The boy’s eyes widened in wonder. “Do you think his journal will tell you how to summon your magicians?”
    Baamin felt much the same sense of awe. Nimbulan was remembered with reverence. His ideas and experiments had led to the development of the Commune. Without him the border would never have become reality. Coronnan would have been consumed by civil war and left as easy pickings for greedy neighbors.
    “If he doesn’t tell us in his journal, perhaps he will mention a book that will.” As he took the slender volume from the boy, he allowed his hands to caress the smooth leather of the binding.
    Nimbulan was mighty in the annals of magic, not just for his achievements but for his loyalty and compassion as well. He was a man whom all his successors tried to emulate.
    Baamin felt humble in the face of such greatness. He’d never be able to wrestle the kingdom through this current crisis. How could he possibly hope to live up to the legacy of such a magnificent predecessor?
    “I’ll take this to my private chambers, Boy. Keep looking.” He stumbled to the door, consumed by his need to read the journal without interruption.
    “Sir?” The boy disturbed his train of thought.
    “Yes?” he replied absently.
    “What if I find something else?” There was hope as well as a tinge of bewilderment in his voice.
    “Then bring it to me. But do so quietly. We don’t want anyone else to suspect the existence of this room.” The boy would obey. He wasn’t intelligent enough to do anything else.
     
    Shayla defied Jaylor’s attempts to describe her. Beautiful beyond words. All colors. And yet no color. Light reflected back and around the viewer. She was as translucent as an opal yet as glistening as a diamond.
    The dragon dipped her steedlike muzzle to his level. He felt speared by the large multicolored eyes that scanned him, one at a time. Above the eyes, a ridge tapered up into a wicked horn, as long as his arm. That horn was repeated in spines parading down her long neck and back.
    With majestic dignity, the huge dragon propped her short forelegs on a fallen log, resting her weight on her powerful haunches. From each foot sprouted a set of long colorless claws, matching the spines in shape and texture.
    Behind her, a thick tail tapered to a sharp arrowhead point. It looked as lethal as its counterpart. Her wings, too, could be considered weapons. At the end of each rain-bowed vein lay a wicked hook. Jaylor revised his preconception of her size. Two sledge steeds together would match her width. Two more would be needed to fill the height of this magnificent dragon.
    But her best defense was her shimmering opalescence. In flight she would be invisible.
    Jaylor should have felt intimidated by her. Instead, he was filled with a glowing sense of affection. The great eye that scrutinized every bit of him—inside as well as out?—held only curiosity, no malice or greed. And, thankfully, no hunger.
    You may touch,