The Dragon Nimbus Novels: Volume I: Volume I

puff of wind brought a new pack, filled with journey foods, and deposited it tidily at her feet. From its top spilled a new cloak, similar to Jaylor’s, but smaller, to fit her shorter height. She dipped her hands into the folds of thick wool and snuggled it against her face. It smelled new and fresh and clean. She felt warmer already.
    Beside her bundle, another appeared. More food and clothes for Darville. “Raiding the University stores again?” he asked Jaylor. A smile tugged at his lips. Had Jaylor done this often to supply their boyhood pranks?
    “They were intended for the use and comfort of students. I’m still a student, technically.” Jaylor shrugged as he reclaimed his own cloak from his prince. “Get changed. We need to move.”
    “Just who is in command here?” Darville whirled to face the magician. Brevelan held her breath, unsure of her own reaction to this minor skirmish for authority.
    She braced herself for the onslaught of strong emotions that always accompanied this kind of confrontation. She was so prepared she barely felt the slight whoosh that hit her.
    “I am,” Jaylor replied. “We are dealing with magic, not armies and soldiers. I am the better equipped to decide our strategy.”
    He had tight control over his emotions. Darville bared his teeth and growled deeply. The hair on the back of his head began to bristle. She sent him enough peace of mind to ease her own tensions.
    “And I am your prince, possibly king already!”
    “You are still partly wolf, and I can make you one again if you push me.” There was no malice in Jaylor’s voice, only authority.
    “Would you really?” Darville laughed at the obvious absurdity.
    “If necessary.” Jaylor smiled too.
    “And I will make you both rabbits if we don’t begin this quest,” Brevelan replied. She looked back at them from the entrance. “Are you coming, boys?”
    As they passed in front of her, Brevelan tugged at Jaylor’s sleeve. “Jaylor, if it is this easy for you to transport food and clothing across the kingdom, what will prevent Thorm from sending Shayla to his castle by the same method?”
    “I don’t know. Unless she is still alive within the glass and transport will kill her.”

Chapter 21
     
    T he sensation of being followed crawled up Jaylor’s back like a swarm of hungry wood ticks. He shrugged his shoulders underneath his pack.
    “Mrreww,” Mica protested sleepily from her customary perch.
    “Oh, hush, Mica.” He reached up to scratch between her ears. She rubbed her head against his palm, and he felt her concern.
    “Who follows us, Mica, when we know our enemy is ahead?” he whispered to the cat even as he checked Brevelan’s position in front of him. Darville strode beside her. Jaylor could see in the unevenness of each step that the prince was having trouble matching his impatient stride to her short legs. The need to range ahead, then circle behind haunted Darville.
    “What’s wrong?” Brevelan swung around to face Jaylor.
    Darville stopped, too. His hand reached for a sword that, under normal circumstances, should swing at his hip. At the same time his lips pulled back in a snarl. His nose twitched, testing the air.
    “Mica thinks we’re being followed.” Jaylor continued to stroke the cat’s ears.
    “Are we?” Brevelan’s eyes searched about her. She too was stretching her senses.
    “I think so.”
    “Into the bushes.” Darville pushed them off the path into the low shrubbery.
    Around the smaller plants that verged on the path, taller, straighter trees cast sheltering shadows. Jaylor looked at each trunk until he realized he was searching for the distinctive mottled bark of the Tambootie. It was early spring, with little chance of finding any timboor to help hide them. On this, the uphill side of the path the trees were all long-needled everblues. Their pungent resin filled his nose and mouth with a healthy clean scent.
    Across the path, on the downhill slope, nestled a clump of the trees he sought. His senses were so filled with everblue, he couldn’t smell the Tambootie, nor could he see the bark in the deep shadows. However, the unmistakable flat tops of the trees lower down the hill were clearly visible.
    “Stay down,” Darville hissed at him.
    Jaylor wasn’t aware that he had half stood. He crouched down again. Tight muscles in his thighs and back reminded him of yesterday’s exertions. Darville was as comfortable sitting on his haunches as he had been the day