The Dragon Nimbus Novels: Volume II

dragons knew for sure. They trusted Myri, believed in her, depended upon her for a most important mission. He committed himself to do the same.
     
    “I still don’t know if the dragons warned me that the villagers would betray me. They may have sent Moncriith to follow us,” Myri said as she and Nimbulan headed back to the clearing. The clearing, with a small hut they had called home for a time. A home where they could live safely, privately, raising Kalen and Powwell.
    “If you don’t trust the villagers, we’ll have to wait until we reach the School for Magicians to be married,” Nimbulan said. “Powwell said that two retired priests had signed on to the faculty.”
    She didn’t want to go with him. The dragons had promised her a home. She’d found that home. But Nimbulan was not destined to be part of her family in the clearing. He had greater things to accomplish at his school.
    But if she didn’t go with him, she would be alone again.
    I am tired of being alone.
    Amaranth landed on a branch above her head. The rising wind made him clutch at his perch with fully extended talons. (You aren’t alone. You have me. You have the dragons. We are your family,) he said.
    She looked at Nimbulan, felt the heat of his hand holding hers as they walked. Ahead of them, Kalen and Powwell skipped and capered down the path toward home. Love and joy filled her heart at the nearness of them. The physical pleasure of touching another human being for no other reason than to touch overwhelmed her. She raised her hand, still linked with Nimbulan’s and kissed their entwined fingers.
    He smiled down at her and returned the gesture. “We will be married at the first opportunity, Myri. I promise.”
    I need him, Amaranth. Just as I am incomplete without you and the dragons. I must go with him. We must take this new magic back to the other magicians. This is what the dragons planned for us all those years ago. I have to leave my home.
    (You will come back.)
    Yes, Amaranth. I will come back. We will all come back when we have completed our task. She held out her arm as a new perch for her familiar. The flywacket spread his wings just enough to glide down to her. He retracted his talons at the last moment and landed softly upon her forearm, then siddled up to her shoulder. He wrapped his fluffy tail around her neck for balance and nuzzled her cheek. His purr sent warm comfort through her entire being.
    “We’re here!” Powwell called just ahead.
    “I can see the roof,” Kalen added.
    “I’m hungry,” said Powwell.
    “You’re always hungry.” Kalen punched him in the arm.
    Myri looked up at the overcast sky. “There will be rain soon. I can smell it on the wind. We’d best hurry.”
    (You are needed,) dragon voices invaded her head. She wrapped her hand around Amaranth’s muscular body, strengthening her contact to him. Beside her, Nimbulan stilled, waiting for the rest of the dragon’s message.
    (Fishermen in trouble.)
    “Will the villagers accept my help or betray me?” she asked the sky. She couldn’t see any dragon outline against the rapidly gathering clouds. Spring often brought sudden storms—short in duration but violent while they lasted.
    A sense of urgency pushed aside her doubts and fears. Men were in trouble. Her feet needed to fly down the steep path to the village right now. Without delay.
    What stores of herbs and poultices did she have in the hut? Her mind raced to the few remedies she had left. She lingered over the list, overruling her anxious feet. Was she strong enough to help? Her healing spells for Nimbulan had drained her badly.
    “I’ll take care of you afterward, Myri. I heard the command as clearly as you did. Go. I’ll gather some herbs and the leftover bandages. Don’t worry. I’ll come as fast as I can,” he said, urging her forward. “Remember what I taught you about the ley lines. Stand close to the Equinox Pylon where the lines cross and use the strength of the lines to fuel your healing.”
    “Follow me, Amaranth.” She urged him off her shoulder so that he could fly and not hinder her own run to the village.
    (Go. Now. You cannot be late.)
    Amaranth launched himself upward, pushing his wings downward with powerful strokes. (We come,) he announced.
    The wind whispered of small boats swamped by waves and hungry rocks reaching to slash and impale new victims.

Chapter 30
     
    M yri’s bare feet found the path into the village without really knowing where she ran. Her