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The Dragon Nimbus Novels: Volume II

The Dragon Nimbus Novels: Volume II

Titel: The Dragon Nimbus Novels: Volume II Kostenlos Bücher Online Lesen
Autoren: Irene Radford
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mewling with every step.
    “He says I must trust you,” Myrilandel said.
    (Televarn is in the village. He questions people in the pub. He knows you were there yesterday.)
    Myri related that bit of information to Nimbulan. “We have to go. We have to hide.”
    “I see why Televarn pursues you so relentlessly. Amaranth is a rare prize. Where do you propose we go?” Nimbulan struggled to his feet. His skin paled as pain and dizziness overwhelmed him.
    She watched him struggle against the impulse to collapse again. Intelligently, he gathered their cloaks as he righted himself rather than risk bending down again.
    “Anywhere away from here. Where do you suggest?” she replied, accepting her cloak from his outstretched hand. She helped him settle his mud-caked outer garment about his shoulders.
    The silver cord strengthened. They must flee together or die together. That s’murghing connection wouldn’t break until he was healed and strong. She couldn’t do anything about that now. She hadn’t the strength or the time.
    “Not back to the road if you are intent on hiding from the Rovers. Though I don’t believe he’s stupid enough to return to the scene of a murder.”
    “No, he’s not stupid. He’s obsessed. If he suspects we are anywhere in the vicinity, he’ll hunt me down. I ran away from him once. He can’t let that happen again. And if he discovers you still live, he won’t rest until he’s completed his quest.”
    “Obsessive. Yes, that describes Televarn well. We’d best rake the leaves and such to remove traces of our camp.”
    “I’ll do it, you start walking. Amaranth, stay with him,” she ordered the flywacket.
    (Of course.)
    “Which way?” Nimbulan cocked one eyebrow up, removing worry lines and lending him an illusion of youth and strength.
    Myri remembered his boyish grin touched with mischief last autumn and longed to see it again.
    She paused to listen to the wind for a suggestion. A gentle “push” from behind. “Uphill, due south. I’ll be right behind you.” As if she had a choice with that magical bond holding their fates together.
     
    “Where is Kalen?” Ackerly asked her father.
    Stuuvart looked up from counting the sacks of grain in the storeroom. “I have no idea. She’s supposed to be in class.” He returned to inspecting a ragged corner of one of the sacks. Evidence of mice?
    “She is supposed to be with me, practicing communication spells. But she isn’t. I thought she might have joined her family for some reason.” Ackerly took a sudden dislike to the man. Stuuvart managed the school’s resources with efficiency and struck bargains with a brilliant flair for conservation of money. But since the day he had arrived, he’d ignored his own daughter, as if she no longer existed—or wasn’t his.
    “Then ask her mother where she is.” Stuuvart moved into the still room filled with crocks of pickled vegetables and salted meat.
    “I did ask Guillia. She hasn’t seen Kalen since breakfast and she’s worried sick for the girl.”
    All of the children and adults ended up in the kitchen with Guillia at some point during each day. Kalen’s mother proved to be a wonderful cook. She was generous with treats and lent a sympathetic ear to one and all. Her homey domain radiated warmth and love along with the wonderful aromas of baking sweets and savory pies. How could such a warmhearted woman have married this cold and unfeeling man?
    “You seem to have lost Kalen, Ackerly. A very valuable child.” Stuuvart finally straightened from his inventory. He didn’t call Kalen “daughter.” Ever. “You have also failed to keep the wards around my stores to prevent vermin from stealing us blind. I will require compensation for the damage to my reputation for this. Allowing vermin in my storeroom!”
    Was the storeroom more important than his daughter? If she was his daughter. Kalen’s younger siblings all had blue eyes and blond hair like their mother. Only Kalen had a touch of red in her hair. Stuuvart’s hair was dark brown, as were his eyes. Kalen’s eyes were gray—like Powwell’s and Ackerly’s.
    His thoughts paused a moment with that realization. A secret smile touched his mouth. Possible. Yes, it was possible. How could he use his blood link to the children, if indeed the relationship existed?
    “You are the one who is blind, Stuuvart. The holes in the corners of the sacks have been cut with a knife, not chewed by mice. Only a magician could slip around

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