The Dragon Nimbus Novels: Volume I: Volume I

among the piles of loose rock that had been cleared from the center of the cave.
    The fathers will share.
    “Fathers?” he asked.
    Brevelan smiled. Her magician had not been privy to the images of the mating flight. He had no way of knowing Shayla’s preference for multiple fathers for her litter.
    “Fathers,” Brevelan answered. “ ‘The more fathers, the larger and stronger the litter,’ ” she quoted.
    His mouth lifted in a long lazy smile. The line of his thoughts was clear.
    Sit, my friends. Shayla curled her tail around her haunches. Once more she dipped her elegant neck so that her eyes were level with Jaylor and Brevelan. In the dim light of the cave interior the irises appeared quite red, slashed by a long, horizontal pupil. Deep inside the dark slash were all of the colors reflected by Shayla’s soft iridescent fur.
    Brevelan stared lovingly at the dragon, entranced by the penetrating gaze of her hostess. Shayla seemed to read her soul, strip it bare, and judge her mettle. Brevelan quivered a little as she adjusted her body and mind to that friendly but intimidating stare. Jaylor mimicked the gesture.
    Drained by the dragon’s scrutiny, Brevelan accepted the invitation to sit. A pile of leaves, without feathers and fur, near a large rock looked made for her. She sank into it, grateful for this small comfort. Her light pack made a wonderful pillow for her head against the rock. The minor injuries inflicted by the rockfall hadn’t bothered her until she thought about resting. Now stiff muscles and aching bruises surged to the surface. She eased herself into a more comfortable position.
    As usual, Puppy sat, leaning his weight against her. His head tipped and rubbed her shoulder. Mica scampered into her lap and commenced an overdue bath.
    Brevelan accepted as natural that Jaylor chose to pace rather than sit. While his mind worked, his body needed to keep moving. His restless energy brought to mind why they were here and the dangers that awaited them.
    There is not much time. The evil one comes.
    Inside Brevelan’s head appeared the image of the one-eyed derelict. A second image appeared of the spotted saber cat’s head perched atop the powerful body of a man. Brevelan didn’t need Shayla’s mental pictures. She would know her enemy anywhere, in any disguise, by his insane laughter.
    “Why can’t you just change Darville back to his normal form?” Jaylor stopped prowling long enough to address Shayla directly. As tall as he was, head and shoulders above Brevelan, he barely reached Shayla’s shoulder. Above him towered the dragon’s long neck and graceful head. “For that matter, why did you allow it to happen in the first place?”
    Brevelan pulled the wolf closer, cherishing the last few moments of their companionship. Once the spell was thrown from him, he would be a prince and no longer her familiar.
    By the vows that were taken many years ago, I grant him protection. The same vows limited my powers.
    “What?” Now Jaylor sat, suddenly and not altogether gracefully, on a nearby rock. “Isn’t that why we came? So you could transform him?”
    I make the magic for you to gather. I do not force it to bend to my will as mortals do.
    “I’m not very good at gathering magic. I work better with my own brand.” Once more he put his hands behind his back.
    For this you will need both my magic and your own. I shall guide you.
    “For this I need to know how it was done. I can’t reverse an unknown spell.”
    Was that truly panic in his eyes? Brevelan sent a small amount of courage toward him.
    “For this spell, you need only watch a master and weep that you will never be able to do it yourself.” A new voice announced from the cave entrance.
    Brevelan didn’t need to face her enemy to know he was disguised in the second image Shayla had sent her. The bronze and gray fur of the spotted saber cat head gleamed in the sunlight at the entrance to the cave. Oiled human muscles rippled along the magician’s strong arms and bare torso. His sturdy legs anchored his barely clothed body in a broad stance.
    On another man, a man less evil, his naked splendor could have been compelling. Brevelan nearly gagged with fear and remembered pain. The last naked man she had seen had tried to rape her on their marriage bed.
    A stream of red and blue flame erupted from Jaylor’s staff, aimed at the intruder. The plait of fire sped toward its target almost faster than the eye could follow. An arrow point