The Dragon Nimbus Novels: Volume II

perpetuating the wars,” he whispered. “By Moncriith and by the girl. Are they right?”
    “I leave tonight. We need to talk now,” Quinnault interrupted his meditation.
    Nimbulan blinked rapidly, trying to grasp the present reality rather than his vision. “In the teeth of this storm? Your steed will be mired before you travel a league. I don’t need to look into the fire through my glass to foresee a dangerous chill at the end of such a journey. If you complete it alive.”
    If you can leave, so can the lovely witchwoman. Before she answers all my questions.
    “D’Astrismos won’t discuss a treaty. Perhaps Hanic will, if I catch him before he walls himself into his fortress for the winter.”
    Nimbulan peered at his companion. If only he could see something of the man’s aura. . . . But he couldn’t. Trust must build on other information. Reputation and tonight’s brief acquaintance.
    After a long moment he gave in to the impulse to confide in this austere man. The day’s events had been too disturbing for him to sort through alone. “When you studied for the priesthood, before your family died and you assumed the lordship, did you have enough magic to access the void?”
    “Only by clinging to my tutor’s aura; never on my own.”
    A cautious answer. Every priest of the Stargods had to have a least a little magic talent to qualify for the revered calling. Few great magicians—those able to draw power from the ley lines welling up from the core of Kardia Hodos—stayed in the priesthood. Spiritual vows confined their power too much to satisfy them. On the other hand, minor magicians either became assistants to men with major talent, as Ackerly had to Nimbulan, or they became priests. Was Quinnault de Tanos a strong magician practicing in secret, or a very minor talent who had left his studies to assume lordship of his clan as he claimed?
    The girl spoke the truth. We have wasted generations of men on these wars. If there is to be peace, I must grasp this opportunity while I have it. The girl and this lord are connected somehow. Is it their destinies or their pasts that mingle?
    “Lord Quinnault, you have seen in the void how past, present, and future become one. You have known your soul stripped of masks so that every thought and plan is revealed, even those you did not realize you possessed.”
    Quinnault nodded. His mouth turned down, and his eyes took on a hard glint. De Tanos’ experience with the symbolic life-path choices apparently had been unpleasant. Shadows played over his angular skull and once more took on the illusion of an otherworldly creature. Was his umbilical an iridescent crystal or some other more natural color?
    Nimbulan wished for the strength to whisk Quinnault into the void and see for himself who and what the lord was. Until his body recovered, however, he’d have to rely on words and instinct. He couldn’t help Myrilandel either until he replenished his reserves.
    “While I liberated Keegan’s ghost, I discovered some disturbing symbolism—which is the only way to view life while in the void. I believe Hanic was ready to negotiate a peace.” The reluctant figure who was dragged out of the dance but kept trying to regain the symmetrical patterns wore Hanic’s colors. The magician who pulled him away from harmony seemed young and overeager. “Keegan instigated this last battle in order to prove his superiority over me, his teacher.”
    Where had he gone wrong in training Keegan? Grief made the next words difficult. “Most of Hanic’s troops were illusions. Very good illusions drawn from blood magic. Moncriith, the Bloodmage, wasn’t present until later. Only Keegan could have conjured those troops. I trained my apprentice well in devising spells. But ethics, honor, and discipline meant nothing to him.”
    “ ’Tis not unusual for a lord to listen to the advice of his magician over common sense. We have to make Hanic see sense now.” De Tanos frowned again.
    “Yes, we must.” The civil war had lasted three generations and more. Magicians guided the lords every step of the way—first to find the best among the barons as a new king when the last one died without heirs. Later they managed the battles, tipping the balance of strength and resources unnaturally. The vision in the void became clearer; symbolism dropping away to reveal the truth beneath it.
    “We must end the wars before Coronnan is destroyed completely and her people overrun by greedy