The Dragon Nimbus Novels: Volume II

beautiful the jewelry, it still branded her the Kaalipha’s possession, without freedom or control over her own life. She’d never taste fresh air and open skies again.
    She had to. The necklace was just one more obstacle to overcome.
    She looked frantically right and left. The gathered servants blocked any route of immediate escape from Yaassima.
    “Don’t consider killing yourself, Myrilandel, by deliberately crossing my boundaries. Suicide is forbidden by your Stargods,” Yaassima cooed, reaching to run her hand across Myri’s breast.
    The corridor wall pressed against Myri’s back. No place to run.
    Yaassima squinted her eyes nearly closed. Age lines, spraying outward from her slightly uptilted eyes marred her otherwise flawless complexion. “I think you might welcome my gentleness when Nastfa and Golin finish with you. Just remember, they will do you no harm until you try to escape. And don’t try to make friends with them so that they will aid you. Through the crystal dragon, I will hear every word you speak. Don’t give me a reason to have the jewelry stab into your brain until you die an ugly death.”
    The Kaalipha flipped her hand in a quick rotation. She pressed her thumb against the ring on her little finger. The whistle shrieked inside Myri’s head once more.
    Myri fought to keep from cringing from the pain.
    Darkness encroached on her vision from the sides. A white tunnel opened before her eyes. At the end of the tunnel she saw Coronnan, beautiful, cool, green Coronnan. Blue skies invited her to soar free through the fresh air. Her home. Numbulan’s home. Freedom!
    But she had to transform to win free of Hanassa. Once a dragon, she wouldn’t have a human body to come back to. Amaranth would have no mother—only Kalen and a Rover wet nurse.
    She allowed the blackness to overwhelm her, praying that Yaassima wanted her alive. Her knees buckled.
    Abruptly the whistle ceased. Her eyes cleared. Hot, desert air filled her dry mouth and lungs. Her tongue tasted sour from fear.
    “Remember this little lesson next time you defy me.” Yaassima stalked back toward the staircase that led to their suite. “Nastfa and Golin are waiting for you in your chamber, Myrilandel.”
     
    Nimbulan hastened away from the gate into Hanassa before the guards changed their minds and arrested him. He searched the mountainside for an alternate route up the steep slope above the gateway. He had to find another way into the city. Myri needed him. Old legends and a few unreliable reports from Televarn said that Hanassa was within the crater of an extinct volcano. The ridge line above him should actually be the rim of the crater. Once up there, he’d try dropping into the city from above.
    He spotted a scraped stone next to a prickly bush that seemed to be missing four branches. Upon closer examination, he decided the missing branches had been nibbled off by some browsing animal. The scrape marks came from hooves.
    He dug his boot toes into the rocky soil and stood beside the bush. Above it, he saw a line of other plants that might have been lunch for the same animal. He followed the grazing pattern upward, finding footholds that weren’t visible until he was almost on top of them.
    Rollett angled farther north to see if a better trail existed.
    The sun rose higher, more intense here in the desert than it ever shone in the river valleys of Coronnan. Sweat dripped down Nimbulan’s back and between his thighs, despite the winter season. His hands and neck sunburned rapidly in the thin mountain air.
    He drank from the waterskin Seannin had made him fill before leaving Coronnan. He wanted more, but the top of the mountain seemed very far away. Perhaps he’d best conserve his supplies until he was inside the city.
    Rollett? He sent a query to his journeyman. Any luck?
    Nothing, came back the reply.
    Conserve your water. We may be out here a long time.
    They had to remain strong enough to rescue Myri once they managed to drop below the crater rim. And Nimbulan hadn’t slept more than a few hours since before the battle. For weeks before that his rest had been troubled by worry over Myri. He wondered if Rollett’s more youthful body had rebounded after the grueling battle and the preparations before that. The young man had been almost as depressed over Haakkon’s drowning as Nimbulan had, further depleting energy resources.
    Hopefully the crater’s slope into the city would be climb-able or not too far a drop to the