The Dragon Nimbus Novels: Volume II

the wards. One of our own has been stealing. Have you and your wife been keeping my students and faculty so hungry they must steal?” He turned the accusation back onto Stuuvart, the only overt way to maintain control of the man. Would Stuuvart succumb to coercion? His honor would be marred much deeper should it become publicly known that he had not sired Kalen—a very valuable witchchild.
    Ackerly hid his revulsion of a man who suddenly seemed as mean and small-spirited as Druulin. His inventories were more important than feeding the apprentices. Ackerly had vowed never to go hungry again.
    “Excuse me, Master Ackerly,” Rollett said, knocking politely on the doorjamb. His hand went immediately to an open crock of dried fruit and nuts. He popped a handful into his mouth before continuing. “I can’t find Powwell, Master. I’m supposed to team up with him today for practice in summoning. Haakon thought he might be with you.”
    Ackerly looked pointedly from the journeyman’s hand plunging into the crock a second time, to Stuuvart. The steward stood his ground, refusing the accusation of short rations. Druulin had done the same thing.
    Ackerly didn’t have time for this battle of wills.
    “Powwell is not with me as you can see. Nor is Kalen. Take Gilby and two others and start searching for them.” One gifted child playing hooky from lessons spelled mischief. Two gifted children missing, along with dried fruit, nuts, and grains, and possibly a ham—he’d spotted an empty spot in the orderly rows of smoked meat hanging from the ceiling—smelled of trouble.
    “We will discuss this later, Stuuvart, when the children and missing stores are accounted for.” Ackerly turned sharply on his heel and left the room before his steward could increase his demands of blackmail.
    S’murghit! if Stuuvart weren’t so valuable as a manager and accountant, Ackerly would dismiss him, his wife, and the other children as well. I’m in charge of this school, not him. The profits are mine and I can’t afford to share them with another. As soon as he found Kalen and knew the child and her enormous talent to be safe, he just might turn the rest of the family out. The girl and her talent were all that truly mattered. Couldn’t her father see that? If he was truly her father. He didn’t think Guillia the kind of woman to stray from her marriage bed. But he knew from experience that any woman could be seduced with the right promises.
    Maybe that was why she looked so familiar! He’d visited Baria a number of times over the years and remembered an innkeeper’s daughter on the verge of a convenient marriage to a rich merchant she didn’t like. . . .
    Ackerly didn’t need Guillia and her family to make a profit from Kalen. A blood link could be made to keep the child close at hand. Moncriith would know how to do that.
    Maybe Stuuvart was hiding both children so that he could demand ransom, a tidy sum of gold for them.
    If he was, then Stuuvart had best watch his back. Ackerly had an entire school of magicians to force the truth out of him, very painfully. He’d summon Moncriith to be on the lookout for the children.
    He couldn’t allow anything to harm those children. They were too important an investment.
     
    “We need help, Myrilandel,” Nimbulan gasped as he sank to his knees for the third time. Ruefully he looked back along the path they had come. The crooked rowan growing beside the double everblue that marked the beginning of their trek was still in sight.
    “I know.” She clung to the trunk of a stout tree as she dropped her meager pack to the ground. Her knuckles were white where she grasped a branch level with her shoulder.
    “Perhaps if we went downhill?” He looked hopefully at the easier path.
    Myrilandel cocked her head as if listening. “No,” she said righting her head and gathering her strength.
    That curious habit of listening to the wind bothered him. She reminded him of someone when she did that. What did Amaranth tell her?
    “They . . . I said no. We can’t take the risk.”
    “Televarn?”
    “He’s still in the village.” She bit her trembling lip, looking longingly at the downhill path. “I hope he doesn’t hurt anyone there.” She blinked back a tear, then resolutely shouldered the pack again. She didn’t let go of the branch that supported her.
    “I don’t believe he’d risk hanging around after he raided the storehouse.”
    Nimbulan thought about rising from his knees and