The Dragon Nimbus Novels: Volume II

clearing the air with your wingbeats,” he called to the dragons. Then he turned to the three apprentices designated as runners between his position and the army command post. “Quickly, send a message to Lord Quinnault. He must ride out in front of his troops. If they see him acting calm, they’ll take confidence in him. Tell the lord he must remind the troops not to attack. We are here to defend only.”
    “A barrier. If you could create a wall to keep the armies separate they couldn’t kill each other,” Myri said, her eyes lighting up with the idea.
    “Of course. But Kammeryl would still seek a way to prove himself the greater warrior. That is the only kind of leadership and rule he understands.” Nimbulan closed his eyes and formed the image of an invisible wall running north and south across the entire width of the field. To his surprise, his body responded with a coil of magic ready for forming. He had stored the magic from an earlier gathering rather than dissipating after the last spell. A smile crept across his face as the barrier fell into place.
    A few of the seasoned troops on the front lines pressed against the wall and withdrew, puzzled looks on their faces. A mounted officer raced to the front from a clump of trees off to the left. The steed’s hooves dug up great clumps of turf as it galloped forward. The beast stopped short, skidding the last few lengths before the wall. The rider nearly plunged over his mount’s head in reaction. When he righted himself, he reached out with tentative fingers and pushed against the almost-visible barrier. He jerked it back as if burned.
    Lord Kammeryl d’Astrismos emerged next from the clump of trees. He rode a magnificent, white war steed, heavier boned and stronger than standard cavalry beasts. A golden circlet on his armored helm announced to one and all his claim to be King of Coronnan.
    “Ah, so that’s where he’s been hiding,” Nimbulan murmured.
    “I believe it’s called a strategic vantage point for directing the battle,” Lyman said, hiding a smile behind his hand. His extra long fingers stretched nearly to his ear. “It also makes retreat easier should it become necessary.”
    Kammeryl d’Astrismos also pushed against the wall. He let his hand linger, daring the pain to throw him away.
    “Fight me!” Kammeryl yelled at the top of his lungs. “Make this a fair battle. Fight me with weapons and tactics I can counter.”
    “We do not attack. We only defend,” Nimbulan replied in a voice pitched for all to hear.
    “Then defend yourselves from ME! I challenge Lord Quinnault de Tanos, the traitor, or his champion, to single combat.”
    “I am the Peacemaker.” Quinnault took up the lord’s challenge. “I cannot ask my people to fight for the sake of fighting. Your quarrel is with me, Kammeryl d’Astrismos. Let your battle be with me and let the innocent of Coronnan stand aside, free and unharmed by us.” He strode out to face his enemy without helm or armor, only an ancient sword in his left hand. His fair hair glinted in the sunlight, as pale and fine as Myrilandel’s.
    Suddenly Nimbulan saw the resemblance to Myrilandel in Quinnault’s posture, profile and coloring. Could Myri truly be the lord’s long-lost sister? When? How? He didn’t want to think about the incredibly dark forces needed to reanimate a dead body.
    No time for questions, only time to help and guide Quinnault before he lost the entire war in single combat with Kammeryl d’Astrismos.
    Nimbulan withdrew the barrier.
     
    Myri watched Quinnault stride to the front of his troops, sword in hand, sunlight glinting on his fine, fair hair. A quick glimpse of his profile, with his long face and proud nose echoed her own image in the metal mirror Nimbulan had given her.
    “He is my brother. We stole his sister’s body to give me life because there can only be one purple dragon alive at a time,” she whispered to herself and to her mother flying the skies above her. She didn’t know if Nimbulan heard her words and didn’t care. He was her husband and had a right to know.
    (Yes. Myrilandel was on the brink of death. Bleeding in her brain from a defect at birth,) Shayla replied. (Her coma was so deep her family thought her dead and placed her in their stone tomb. Had they buried her, we would not have been able to free her in time. Your dragon vitality awakened the human child’s natural talent. Together, you healed the weakness in her brain and stopped the