The Dragon Nimbus Novels: Volume II

feel, cut off from her family and from the dragons.
    He turned in a full circle, looking for a way off this narrow ledge and into the hidden city.
    “There’s a staircase of sorts.” Rollett pointed to crude indentations in the cliff wall.
    Nimbulan was suddenly grateful for the company of his senior journeyman, a young man he had raised since the age of ten. The bleak mountainside reminded him just how dangerous and lonely this quest would be.
    At the same time he feared that he would have to watch this boy die as he had watched so many of his friends, companions, and students pass into a new existence. He clamped his hand on Rollett’s shoulder with affection, reaffirming the bonds that had grown between them for more than eight years.
    “Looks like someone tried to carve the steps. The intervals are too regular to be natural,” Nimbulan replied. Not much of a road, but it was the only exit other than the one the dragon had taken. He peered down the mountain slope once more. Something akin to Myri’s dreams of flight invaded his senses. If only he could spread his arms wide and launch himself into the thin air. . . .
    “Careful,” Rollett warned, grabbing Nimbulan’s collar and dragging him backward on the ledge. “After experiencing flight on a dragon, it seems only natural that we should be able to do the same.”
    Nimbulan shook himself free of the need to fly. That way led only to death. He was not a dragon and never would be. But Myri could be a dragon again, if she wished. Had she transformed in response to Amaranth’s death?
    Not yet. He’d know if she had. He’d know in his heart.
    The silver cord pulsed too strongly between them. His loneliness increased at the thought of losing her. But if that were the only way she could save her life . . .
    “Someone must use this route regularly,” he commented as he placed his boots along the width of the step. It was too narrow to take more than his toes straight on, so he climbed sideways. The stairs up the mountainside fit his feet better than he’d expected on first glance.
    “With these hand notches beside the steps, the route seems almost comfortable.” Rollett hauled himself up the steep path.
    The magical tendril connecting Nimbulan to Myri pulsed stronger with each step. His heart lifted a little. He climbed higher, taking time to breathe the thin air. No sense in arriving too out of breath to act.
    One hundred twenty-two steps above the ledge, Nimbulan paused on a shallow plateau that spread right and left. Rollett crawled up, landing on his belly. He clung to the level area with both hands dug into the sandy soil. “No wonder Hanassa is such a mystery. No one in his right mind would seek this place just to explore,” Rollett panted. His eyes were squinted nearly shut, keeping out the bright sunlight and hiding his emotions. His trembling chin betrayed his uncertainty. He never looked down. “I hope there’s a different way out. Those steps will be really treacherous on the way down, especially in a hurry.”
    “Agreed. You are good with detail. Memorize everything, particularly anything that seems odd or out of place.” Nimbulan searched the plateau for signs of the trail continuing.
    “Something that is repeated too often might be a delusion.” Rollett’s gaze followed Nimbulan’s around the open space.
    The plateau measured perhaps fifty long paces wide. The cliff continued to reach for the sky above it. Nimbulan walked a few steps to the right. Around the curve of the plateau, nearly one hundred average paces away, cut into that otherwise impenetrable wall was an archway. Smooth symmetrical sides and the top a perfect half circle proclaimed the opening as man-made. Metal bars filled it with an intimidating crosshatch pattern. Two guards, bristling with weapons, stood on either side of the archway. Two more held positions behind the bars. A long dark tunnel stretched from the barricade into the mountain.
    Nimbulan stepped back hastily, out of view.
    The guard spotted Nimbulan at almost the same moment.
    “What brings you to Hanassa, stranger?” The guard on the right slapped a rock beside the archway with a curious metal wand.
    A high-pitched ringing sound attacked Nimbulan’s ears. He scrunched his eyes closed in a painful grimace. The sound continued inside his head long after it had ceased vibrating from the hollow metal tube the guard carried. Rollett curled up on the ground—which he still hugged—hands over his