The Dragon Nimbus Novels: Volume II

After she had outlived her usefulness.
    “Yes, finding Nimbulan is very important, if he is indeed still alive.” Moncriith leaned forward. His knuckles turned white under the force of his grip of the chair arms. He forced himself to remain calm. How could that man still live to plague him? Nimbulan had to be dead, as reported. Ackerly wouldn’t lie to him, not after Moncriith had paid out three gold pieces for information. His plans to eliminate all magicians along with the demons would blow away as dust if Nimbulan still lived. No other Battlemage commanded the respect of both magician and mundane armies. As long as Nimbulan lived to direct battles and train other magicians to do the same, Moncriith would remain an outcast.
    The kingship of Coronnan eluded him as long as Nimbulan lived to oppose Moncriith.
    “I will help you find Master Nimbulan, children. But first you must bathe and have a hot meal. Some new, warm clothing and boots, too.” He clapped his hands for servants to see to the children. “We will begin our journey at dawn.”
     
    Myri explored the boundary of the clearing with her hands and magic senses. Yesterday, when she and Nimbulan had collapsed into the clearing, she thought she heard a popping sound, as if a door had closed behind them. Now she sought that door again.
    Inch by inch, she traced the perimeter of the area around her new home. An invisible wall resisted the pressure of her hand. The thought of being trapped here forever didn’t bother her. Within the magic enclosure of several acres, she had about an acre for a garden, access to a creek for water, and a secluded pool fed by hot springs for bathing and laundry. Nimbulan was there now, washing away the blood and dust of his adventures.
    A long soak in the warm water would aid the internal healing she hadn’t been able to complete. She had probed the wound last night and realized she could do little more for him with magic. Only time and rest and good food would finish the job she had begun.
    She hoped he shaved his beard as well. She liked being able to watch his facial expressions. She wanted to see that boyish grin light his eyes again.
    It was curious that the silver tendril of magic still bound her to him. She had thought the connection born solely of the incomplete healing and his need to keep her close and controlled until he no longer required her talent. Something else must be maintaining it. She tugged gently on the cord and sent him the message to scrape the beard from his face.
    A sense of well-being crept over her at the realization she didn’t resent the silver cord or Nimbulan anymore. “We belong together. We belong here. This is home,” she whispered, utterly amazed.
    Briefly she gave up her examination of the wall to touch her lips where he had kissed her yesterday. The sensations he roused in her still puzzled her. He wasn’t as beautiful or as skilled as Televarn, but the raw honesty of his embrace had touched a portion of her heart she thought closed and locked away forever.
    Televarn had roused her lust but not her love. What kind of emotions would grow between herself and Nimbulan if she allowed him to stay in her life?
    When Old Magretha had died three years ago, Myri had grieved for her lost mentor and companion. If she lost Nimbulan now, she thought she might feel the same kind of loneliness and regret. Or worse.
    “You feel it, too?” Nimbulan came up behind her, almost as if she had conjured him with her speculations.
    “Feel what?” She was lost in the wonder of examining his bare cheeks and upper lip. Would his kiss delight her as much without the beard tickling her?
    He’d pulled his long hair back into a single braid, without the distinctive shorter sides hanging loose, as most magicians did. Now he looked like an ordinary country gentleman, the kind of man who might be willing to linger with her in this remote clearing.
    “Feel the wall. I managed to step beyond it and back through it down by the creek, but it took a major effort of will. My magic won’t return fully until my body is completely healed. I doubt that anyone else will be able to penetrate the wall without our permission.”
    “A kind of armor?” She visualized a small opening in the wall and pushed her hand against it. The wall resisted the way a feather pillow compressed under the weight of a head, shaping around it, but not splitting. She opened the image of the door. Her hand slid right through. “Oh, my!” She