The Dragon Nimbus Novels: Volume I: Volume I

encampment. “Very well.” He strode to the entrance. His back was straight now, his step firm. “We might as well stay here. It’s sheltered. There’s wood for a fire and a spring at the back of the cave.”
    “What about . . . what about our enemy?” She couldn’t bring herself to name him.
    “I doubt he’ll be back for several days. He’s wounded, thanks to Mica. He’s fatigued from throwing too much magic, and he must continue the spell to transport Shayla. We’re safe here for tonight.” Jaylor yawned and seemed to shrink within himself.
    “I’ll scout the perimeter,” Darville announced. At the cave entrance he started to lift his left leg, just as the other Darville, the wolf, would have done to mark the edge of the camp. Face flaming, he stood straighter. “I don’t suppose you have an extra pair of trews in your pack, old friend?”
     
    Baamin guided his seeking flame back up the mountain. Slowly, warily, it crept toward the cave entrance. He pushed beyond aching eyes and throbbing head to make the flame go where he sent it.
    He met no resistance at the cave mouth this time. The weakened spark of green flame hovered and tried to retreat again. Apprehension grew in the old magician’s breast. Never before had a spell fought him like this. Drawing on his newly found reserves of magic, he forced the tiny flicker of light to move onward, deep into the mountain.
    There, finally, it found its like, another fire maintained but shielded by a magician’s stare.
    “Jaylor, at last!” Baamin breathed a sigh of relief. “What is happening? Where is Shayla?”
    “Baamin?” The boy’s startlement relieved the older magician’s subtle fears. They were back to their normal relationship of master and journeyman. Last time they had talked, Jaylor had been in control of the magic as well as the interview, a man fully grown and worthy of his master’s cloak.
    “Who else would call in this manner?” Baamin almost chuckled. But his errand was too vital to linger in polite conversation. “Answer me. I fear that time is of the essence. Where is Shayla?”
    “Gone, sir.”
    “Gone! She can’t leave. She is tied to this kingdom by instinct and by magic.”
    “Perhaps I should say stolen and enthralled. The rogue transformed her into glass.”
    The image of a giant crystal, reflecting back the light of a hundred moons flooded Baamin’s mind. “How? Why?” He stammered.
    “To gain a kingdom.”
    “And the wolf?” Defeat dragged at his shoulders. With Shayla enchanted so, too, would the king be. If the golden wolf were indeed the missing prince, as Baamin had suspected all along, he had to be restored and returned to Coronnan City. Now.
    “Nearly his old self, sir.”
    The boy didn’t elaborate. No image of the wolf or his restored form came through the flame. Something was wrong.
    “There was a man beneath the glamour of golden fur, wasn’t there?”
    Jaylor nodded wearily.
    “Can you do anything about him?”
    “I did.”
    The image of Darville riding through the woods on a spirited steed flashed across Baamin’s mind’s eye. Darville as he had been last autumn, before his disappearance.
    “Wonderful, boy. Wonderful.” For the first time in weeks, Baamin knew relief. “We need him in Coronnan City immediately.”
    “Weeks of travel at best, sir. And, sir, there are . . . um complications.” Jaylor stalled.
    “What am I to tell the Council of Provinces and the king?” If the king were still alive.
    “As little as possible. We follow the rogue at dawn.”
    “To what purpose?” The candle flame leaped higher. An ember of hope glimmered from Jaylor’s end of the summons.
    “To rescue a glass dragon.” Jaylor hadn’t used that flippant tone since he’d broken the spell on the wine cellar door and replaced it with one even the masters couldn’t reverse. His inebriated, taunting laugh had haunted them for weeks. “Are you drunk, journeyman?” Baamin forced sternness into his voice.
    “No, sir.” His reply was slightly subdued. “Just fatigued beyond caring.”
    A sense of the great magic the boy had worked that day washed over Baamin. He understood. He gulped. If Jaylor had truly fought Krej’s rogue that hard and then found enough strength to restore the prince, his magical prowess was greater than anyone had believed possible. He was a master already, without the talisman of the cloak.
    Baamin was talking to a stronger magician than the entire Commune combined. He