The Dragon Nimbus Novels: Volume II

Rover who will steal any child for the sake of new blood in the clan,” he reassured her. He refused to look at Maia while he spoke. Did the Rover woman still seek to kidnap Amaranth for the benefit of the clan and Televarn?
    Myri relinquished the burden of the baby’s weight reluctantly. As he cradled Amaranth in the crook of his right arm, he draped his left around Myri’s shoulders. The sudden warmth that filled his soul almost stopped him in his tracks.
    In many ways, Nimbulan was an unknown to her. Their courtship and marriage had been brief before her exile.
    He had allowed her to become the victim of an edict that put the fears and prejudices of the Council above the needs of the individual. He had become so involved in politics he hadn’t followed through with the sporadic communication with her and Powwell.
    He kept walking, trying to figure out his emotional upheaval. He thought again of the four islands in the Great Bay. He’d take Myri there, and they would live together for the rest of their lives. He couldn’t leave her again.
    But he couldn’t tell her about his plans in case they came to naught. There had to be a way to keep her close without breaking the laws of Coronnan.
    The low mountain pass twisted and turned back on itself a dozen times, leading into box canyons and across surging creeks before descending the hills into Coronnan. Nimbulan didn’t know how to use the terrain to their advantage. He needed a broad plain with two opposing armies. That he could plan for.
    They’d walked for hours. They were all tired and hungry. They all watched the sun march progressively closer to the horizon and the time for Quinnault’s wedding.
    Lyman and the other magicians continued to ignore a summons spell. Without a dragon to carry them to the capital, Nimbulan had no hope of preventing the union of his king and the false princess before the invasion.
    “We need to stop and eat,” he said though his mind urged him to continue forward.
    What had gotten into Quinnault that he would risk his fragile peace? Where had the Princess of Terrania come from? More important, who was behind the plot?
    “I’m sensing a mass of people behind us,” Scarface replied warily. “I don’t think this is a good time to stop.”
    Nimbulan scanned the canyon to his left. A small creek joined a slightly larger one at the mouth of the opening. He guessed the easy game trail led into yet another dead end, hopefully one that offered numerous hiding places, possibly caves where they could light a fire and rest.
    Powwell turned automatically up the trail, without argument. He’d been so depressed since leaving Kalen behind that Nimbulan wondered if the boy was capable of independent thought.
    Yaala trudged after the boy, bound to him by their shared experiences in the pit and yet apart from them all.
    Myri reached to take back the baby.
    “Please, Myri, let me carry her a little longer. I know I don’t deserve this special blessing, but . . .” How did he make amends for all those lonely moons of exile that made her vulnerable to Televarn’s kidnap and Yaassima’s cruel imprisonment of her?
    She nodded slowly, maintaining eye contact with him.
    “Our daughter is very precious. I vow before you and the Stargods that I will never do anything to harm her or you again.” He touched his heart, then hers to seal the vow.
    Myri rewarded him with a weak smile. Her hand lingered tentatively on his as he supported Amaranth against his shoulder. Yet he feared every moment she would withdraw from him.
    Maia’s face turned bronze-red beneath the olive tones of her skin. “I was your first love. I gave you a son. You never promised me anything.”
    “Myrilandel is my love and my wife. I will provide for you, Maia, do what I can to protect you from Televarn and the rest of the clan. But I do not love you, I doubt I ever did. We were both victims of Televarn’s manipulations. We did not enter that union of our own free will.”
    “They’re getting closer!” Scarface hissed, urging them into the rugged canyon. “Can’t you feel their malevolence beating against the rocks? They want blood. Our blood.”
    Cradling Amaranth in one arm, the other supporting Myri around the waist, Nimbulan increased his stride. He left Maia to Scarface’s ministrations. Yaala guided Powwell.
    They needed a hiding place, someplace with wood where they could separate from their talents. Only then would they be safe from the