The Dragon Nimbus Novels: Volume I: Volume I

alliance among the other lords for many years. He has carefully arranged marriages for his numerous children into the homes of his strongest enemies. Through these children he has formed a network for coercion and extortion. Few noble families dare contest his bid for power.
    Was history repeating itself? Krej had at least seven legitimate children and untold numbers of bastards. Even those too young for marriage had been betrothed in rites as binding as a wedding. Nearly every noble family was allied to him in some way. His network was in place.
    And there was a rogue magician within the boundaries of Krej’s province.
    Baamin longed for proof that Krej had hired the rogue to work mischief among the dragons.
    Krej’s right to the throne was strong. If Darcine should die before Darville was found, there was no one else strong enough to hold this country together.
    Was that Krej’s plan, too? Had he arranged the slaughter of the dragons to weaken the king and make his own leadership seem essential to the welfare of Coronnan? It seemed logical until you considered young Darville. He was a prince of character and wisdom, in spite of his high spirits and preference for long, solitary, and dangerous hunts.
    Where was the boy?
    Shayla protected a golden wolf in the southern mountains. What was the connection?
    Baamin turned several more pages. This history was compelling in its parallels to modern times. But he needed information about magic, not politics.
    I must break the habits of a lifetime. No more can I dip deep within myself for the source of my magic. Now I must take the time to locate an outside source, gather it, change it, and throw it back out. Inefficient as this method seems, it is necessary.
    Magic was so much easier when I could close my eyes and find the power beneath my feet. With my own magic, the words of a spell were changed by that power into deeds. It seemed I need only open my eyes again and find the deed accomplished.
    I only wish my beloved Myrilandel could share in this new force. Alas, women and children no longer have the ability to work with us. Since we must banish the old form of magic, we must also exclude them from the joys of this new force and the intimate ties of those who join together with it.
    “So I must delve deep within myself for the source of personal magic,” Baamin mused. “Not so different from dipping into the reserves of magic I have gathered.”
    He closed his eyes. Nothing came to mind. What should he try? Something simple to begin with. Perhaps Jaylor’s old trick. From memory he recited the words that would form the image of a cup filled with cool wine. At first he saw it in the cellar. Then he put the cup on his desk.
    The crash of broken crockery startled him out of his reverie. On the floor, beside him, lay a broken wine cup; one just like those reserved for students. He had brought the cup through the sealed doors and into his study! Only the cup had slipped to the floor and crashed. He had forgotten the slope of the reading surface.
    “I’m as bad as the apprentices!” Baamin’s eyes watered from his near hysterical mirth. “Imagine me, Senior Magician and University Chancellor back among the rawest of students.”
     
    Never, in her dreams or in her conversations with Shayla, had Brevelan imagined a dragon could be so wonderful. She had seen vague images of the dragon and her consorts, but never this full, splendid view of power and iridescent light.
    A bubble of joy replaced the weight of dread in her midsection. She wanted to laugh and sing with her companions. Shayla’s magic already encircled them, bound them all together. Brevelan need only enrich the bonds with her own magic song.
    The weight of Jaylor’s arm about her shoulders made the circle of her love complete. Together they strode into the cool depths of the cave Shayla called home.
    The entrance was just large enough for the dragon to spread her wings in preparation for flight. Deeper into the mountain it opened into a massive room, dry and cool. In one corner was a nest of dried leaves and everblue needles, with some feathers and bits of raw wool for softness.
    Brevelan refused to think about where those bits came from. The bowl of the nest was wide and sheltered from the wind. Perfect for Shayla’s brood.
    “When will the babies come?” she asked timidly.
    Winter Solstice. The dragon yawned. Before long I will not be able to fly.
    “How will you eat?” Jaylor asked as he poked