The Dragon Nimbus Novels: Volume II

tell me he’s a father? I’d have given him leave to go to my sister moons ago. But I need him here now.” Joy for the new life warred with his irritation that no one had told him.
    “He didn’t know himself until after he left.” Lyman continued to scan the skies.
    “Then why didn’t you tell me? You seem to know more about it than Nimbulan. You always know more than you tell.”
    “It wasn’t my secret to tell.” The magician shrugged enigmatically.
    “You also seem to know more about the dragons than anyone, including Myrilandel—who is half dragon—and myself with my magical bonds to them through the Coraurlia. How, Lyman? Tell me now.” Quinnault studied the old man.
    “Because of Myrilandel, you know that purple-tipped dragons have special destinies. They are always born twins but only one may remain a dragon, the other must seek a different form to fulfill its destiny. My twin deserted dragonkind and sought his own life path, forever separated from dragonkind. It was left to me to live both lives.”
    “You were born a purple-tipped dragon!” Quinnault stared with his mouth half open. Quickly he recovered and checked the ring of lords and magicians to see if any of them had heard the astonishing confession.
    “Look. There. Nimbulan must have succeeded in saving Myrilandel and her baby.” Lyman pointed eastward, toward where the sun rose over the Great Bay.
    “We will discuss this later, Lyman,” Quinnault said, also looking across the bay.
    A small shadow blocked the growing sunlight for a moment, then the light burst forth brighter, shimmering with rainbows. A dragon approached.
    Quinnault shaded his eyes with his hand and looked toward the east for signs of the huge beasts that had blessed his coronation by flying over this courtyard at the moment the priests placed the Coraurlia on his head. His eyes slid right and left, dazzled by the light. He breathed a sign of satisfaction that warred with his concern for Katie. The dragons were as much a part of him now as Katie.
    “There, look!” Lyman pointed higher than the rising sun on the stretch of the bay. “Lords of the Council, you should be able to see the dragons now.”
    Gradually the rainbows faded and revealed a vague outline of wings and spinal horns. All colors swirled into no color around the outline. The male dragons sported a primary color along their wing veins and horns. This, then, must be Shayla, the female leader of the nimbus. Quinnault’s eyes wanted to slide around the flying form, giving the dragon an illusion of transparency.
    At this distance she appeared no bigger than his sister’s flywacket. But Quinnault knew Shayla would fill the courtyard. Her head was as high as two sledge steeds and her body as broad as two more.
    A harsh judge who had announced the breaking of the Covenant. Quinnault knew the heat of guilt. He had exiled his sister, Myrilandel, the chosen intermediary between dragons and humans. Did Shayla hold a grudge?
    He shifted his gaze to Katie. She, after all, was the point of this demonstration. She stood in the exact center of the dais, slim and tiny against the larger backdrop of the unfinished courtyard and the Bay beyond. The morning breeze pressed the thin fabric of her pure white shift against her body, outlining her breasts and legs. She seemed unconcerned by the immodest revelations of the simple garment. Her gaze wandered across the Bay, not focusing on the dragon even after she shaded her eyes with her hand.
    She probably couldn’t see the rapidly approaching dragon because she didn’t yet believe in Shayla’s existence.
    Resentment rose in his throat against the men of his Council who had arranged this test to satisfy their own lust for power. Quinnault recognized their motives now, not caution against an unknown princess, but the desire to prove their king in error and thus increase their own power within the Council.
    The assassin must come from a different source—someone less subtle, more desperate.
    Who stood to gain from the death of this unknown princess?
    He dragged his gaze away from Katie to survey the reactions of the men in the court. Lyman, still at the foot of the dais, seemed unmoved by the approach of the dragon. Indeed, a small smile played across his ancient mouth as if this entire exercise was a big joke. The other magicians smiled, too. But differently. They experienced a great joy at the sight of Shayla, much as Quinnault did. They almost swelled with pride