The Dragon Nimbus Novels: Volume II

Secrets beyond comprehension to mere mortals.
    Powwell risked a tiny turn of his head to search the cave system for something unusual. Only gray rock walls shadowed with black met his gaze. Where was the light that produced shadows? He didn’t see any torches, nor did the light flicker like a natural flame. A steady glow seemed to come from the ceiling. But darkness followed them, engulfing the light soon after they passed by.
    Where are we? He tried touching Kalen’s mind. Their rapport was strong; she should respond to the lightest probe. She remained blank and unresponsive. Then he tried to bring his TrueSight to the front of his awareness—a harder task. His head throbbed and he lost focus. No magic responded to his quest. He reached deeper into his being in search of stored dragon magic.
    Nothing. He was empty. He’d used it all trying to get Myri safely into the forest. There must be a ley line nearby. He could tap the energy embedded in the Kardia to fuel his magic. The clearing was full of ley lines and so was the village.
    Nothing. Wherever they were, the land and the air were devoid of energy to fuel his talent.
    He must have been unconscious for longer than he thought. But his inner awareness of the planet and the passage of time insisted that he’d only lost his senses for a few heartbeats. Thorny agreed with him. The tiny hedgehog gibbered of dark magic and holes in time.
    Televarn urged them up the steep incline, increasing his pace with each step. Everyone breathed faster and more shallowly. Sweat poured down Powwell’s face and back. If only he had a drink of water, he could think straight.
    A gate of crossed iron bars blocked their path. Televarn touched the lock with a strange metal wand. It unlatched silently. Where did he get the magic to do that? Rovers supposedly had strange powers, but they had to have fuel like any other magician whether it be dragons, ley lines, or blood. Could Televarn tap the heavy emotions that pressed against Powwell?
    Televarn pushed the gate open. The hinges didn’t protest. It was well maintained by someone.
    At last they emerged into broader tunnels that looked as if men had attempted to smooth the walls with tools. Even without magic, Powwell knew that other lives drifted close by, possibly in adjacent tunnels. The air became sweeter and more plentiful. Each breath came easier. They neared the surface.
    With the release of the tremendous weight on his senses, Powwell began to hope. He sought landmarks and avenues of escape within the limited range of his half-closed eyes. He stretched his hearing, praying for some hint of where Televarn had brought them.
    He saw a flamboyant tapestry draped across another tunnel opening. Some private apartment?
    If only he had some magic to reach out with. He needed to know how extensive this cave system was and how many people inhabited it.
    They paused by a very large tapestry. It would more than cover all the walls of Myri’s little hut. Red, blood red, dominated the scenes depicted here. Executions and terrible tortures filled the weaving. Beheadings, hangings, dozen of arrows piercing a naked man. Racks and hot pokers, victims writhing in agony. Powwell almost had the impression he was watching the horrible events unfold before his eyes.
    Then they moved on. Televarn thrust aside the next tapestry. It was as large as the previous one. Powwell stared at the amazing pictures of naked men and women coupling in bizarre and obscene combinations.
    He closed his eyes in disgust. Where were they that misery and perversion dominated the walls?
    Embarrassed heat wanted to flood his face all the way to his ears. He fought for calm, breathing evenly, looking elsewhere. Desperately, he hoped his flushed face could be attributed to the unnatural heat of the lower caverns.
    Televarn peered behind the tapestry, seemingly unaware of the obscenities he held in his hand. Odd yellow light poured out from a vast open space beyond the woven wall covering.
    Sunlight? No. Too yellow, like the glow in the lower caverns that brightened and dimmed in response to the passage of people. Powwell couldn’t see any hint of the normal green firelight. Thorny wouldn’t be able to help him figure it out. The hedgehog’s eyesight was terrible.
    Televarn beckoned his troop to enter the room beyond. He pressed his finger to his lips, signaling silence. All of them moved cautiously on the balls of their feet.
    They entered a large room with a dais running