The Dragon Nimbus Novels: Volume I: Volume I

floor with his bare toes.
    Interest flowed through Baamin’s veins again. “You read the journal?” How was that possible? The boy was so stupid no one had bothered giving him a name!
    “Bits, sir.” He still refused to look up.
    “How many bits?” Baamin reached to lift the boy’s chin so he could see his eyes, see if intelligence glimmered there.
    “Enough.” There was a brief flash from the large brown eyes, then they were lowered again.
    “Enough to learn the principles of old magic?” Baamin slid a little truth spell over the boy. At first it began to glow with the green fire of truth, then abruptly died.
    Armor would bounce the spell back. This one just ended, as if absorbed and nullified.
     
    Brevelan awoke from her nap feeling empty, deprived, and utterly alone. Frantically she search for the slender thread binding her to Jaylor. Shredded fragments of copper dangled uselessly from her soul. All traces of silver and crystal were gone.
    Jaylor was gone. While she slept, his spirit had slipped away.
    She bent her will to the magic thread, trying desperately to repair it, to build a new one. Anything to bring him back! The silver hid from her. There wasn’t enough magic within her, within all of Coronnan to find it. She was alone.
    Never again would she listen for his steps as he explored her clearing. Mica would have to find a new shoulder to ride on. Brevelan could go back to preparing small, sparse meals for herself alone.
    She would be without her faithful wolf familiar, too. Darville needed to return to his own life in the capital. Tears rolled down her cheeks. Tears of guilt and heartbreak. She didn’t try to hide them from the golden-haired man who whittled by the fire.
    Darville came to her then. Crouched beside the bed, he pushed a stray tendril of hair away from her face. She leaned into his hand. His gentle caress cupped her face. Strength and comfort flowed between them. Since that first storm last winter, Darville had been with her constantly. In her loneliness she had hugged him close many times.
    Now it was his turn to hold her.
    “What are we going to do now?” she whispered into his shoulder.
    “Whsst, little one. When you are rested, we must go to the capital and find Baamin. He’ll know how to help Shayla, if anyone can.” He stroked her hair.
    They both looked at the extra cot by the hearth where Jaylor’s body lay. It was just an empty shell. Their friend was no longer there to give it life and animation.
    Jaylor was gone! The emptiness washed over her, pulling her into cold despair.
    Darville hugged her closer, sheltering her from the pain, making it his own. She yearned for his warmth. For a moment she allowed herself to sink into his embrace, to savor the feel of his arms encircling her. His lips brushed her hair and his beard tangled with it. She could almost pretend he was Jaylor. Then his scent filled her.
    He smelled of trees freshened by a spring rain. He had picked a few wildflowers, and their pollen lingered. Mica had been in his lap. His hair was damp, as it had been so often after a playful splash in the pool when he was a golden wolf. She savored the comfortable familiarity of him. Her fingers reached and tangled with his thick, uncombed golden hair. When she tried to pull away, he held her tighter.
    “Let me hold you, little one.” He sat beside her, cradling her against his chest.
    She needed to be this close. His heartbeat filled her mind. Her pulse quickened to match his rhythm. Their hearts entwined and beat as one. She felt her being merging with his. Wordless communication soothed them both, brought them to understanding. Her arms encircled his waist. This was Darville, not so different from the companion she had cherished for all those many moons.
    Darville kissed her cheek and eyes. How many times had his wolfish tongue caressed her? He couldn’t hurt her then. How could he hurt her now? She need not fear this man who was so much a part of her. But they were still two separate beings. She needed to join with him, to find the wholeness that Jaylor had taken with him.
    Her mouth found Darville’s lean, bearded cheek. He turned his head to capture her lips. Such a warm, undemanding kiss. Her heart swelled with tenderness. Her breasts were too small to contain her emotion. They tightened.
    She deepened the kiss, demanding more of him, and herself. Her body nestled against the firm wall of his chest. His kisses fanned over her face, down to her neck.