The Dragon Nimbus Novels: Volume II

charges of willfully bringing an exiled criminal within the borders of Coronnan. And suspicion of several charges of conspiracy and attempted murder.” The king glared at his sister, Myrilandel. The harshness of his gaze softened as his eyes lingered on her face, so similar to his own and yet different, changed by the dragon spirit that inhabited the body. Then he caught sight of the bundle she carried.
    His mouth opened slightly, and he almost reached to see the child.
    “My only crime, brother, is that I was born female and unable to gather dragon magic,” Myri said softly.
    “The presence within my borders of magicians who cannot or will not gather dragon magic is a danger to my government and the peace we are trying to build. And so all solitary magicians had to be exiled or executed. I cannot make exceptions for you, sister. I fear you must leave Coronnan.”
    “I know that. And I will, as soon as you are safe from the invasion that threatens you.” Myri bowed her head in acceptance of her fate.
    “An invasion prompted by your marriage to this woman, Quinnault,” Nimbulan said. He looked again at the woman in the corner. He didn’t know what conspiracies Quinnault was talking about, so he chose to ignore them in favor of threats he could unravel. “Terrania is a desert wasteland that hasn’t been fit for human habitation in thousands of years. Even the lizards and flies have abandoned it. She cannot be the Princess of Terrania.”
    “You may leave, Steward. This discussion must remain private.” Quinnault nodded to the servant who still stood in the doorway. He had followed Nimbulan and the others, wringing his hands and protesting disturbing the king on his wedding night.
    The steward sidled past Scarface and Powwell, eyes wide, feet reluctant to move him out of earshot. He stopped in front of Maia and pointed to the mole on her cheek just to the right of mouth.
    The woman in the vision spell questing the source of poison had a mole in the same place. So much had happened in the last few days, Nimbulan had difficulty remembering how short a time ago that was.
    Quinnault nodded acknowledgment gestured the man out of the room. “These other people are not necessary to this discussion either, Nimbulan.” Quinnault nodded toward Yaala who still peered over the bride’s shoulder, trying to examine the black device, and Scarface and Powwell who stood by the door in a guarding stance. “The Rover woman will have to be questioned regarding her relative who tried to murder my queen last night with the tie from my dressing gown.”
    A sly smile that Nimbulan didn’t like at all stole across Maia’s face.
    “Maia’s clan is all in Hanassa, Your Grace. I don’t see how any of them could be involved,” Nimbulan said. “Unless . . . Maia, were any of your people sent to the pit?” He whirled to face the woman.
    “Piedro?” Powwell interrupted. “A Rover-dark man was sent to the pit right after I was. He never did much, just wandered around like he was lost in a dream.”
    “That was the man’s name!” Quinnault said. He almost jumped up, then remembered why the sheet was tangled around his hips and sat back on the mattress again.
    “When was the last time you saw him, Powwell? Did he know about the dragongate?” Nimbulan asked.
    “Maybe. I think he was part of Televarn’s gang when they kidnapped us and took us from the village into Hanassa. He looked like the man who had Amaranth in a sack over his shoulder,” Powwell replied. He stroked something just inside his tunic pocket as he spoke.
    “Televarn again. He must have followed Piedro and helped him escape my dungeons. Lyman said that Rover magic opened the magic seal from the outside.” Quinnault eyed the dressing gown, just out of reach.
    “Televarn couldn’t have done it,” Myri said, dropping her head to stare at the floor.
    “Don’t defend the man, sister, just because you lived with him for a while,” Quinnault said harshly.
    “I am not defending the man who betrayed me twice.” Myri raised her head to glare at her brother. Her eyes lost most of their color as her emotions tumbled across her face.
    Nimbulan touched her arm before she broadcast all of her fears and anger into their daughter. She relaxed a little at his touch.
    “Televarn did not leave Hanassa,” Nimbulan informed his king. “We saw him last with a poisoned knife sticking out of his throat. If he survived, he was in no condition to follow us. Moncriith