The Dragon Nimbus Novels: Volume II

the other three elements.
    The heat of her power continued to build within her body, beyond her ability to contain it. She breathed flame and still the fire grew. So did the magical wall.
    Her hand clutched at Nimbulan’s shoulder, needing to feel his skin one more time before she gave herself up to the elements. She moved her hand to his, where it rested on the table that organized and focused the spell.
    The power burned through her, burned up her fragile humanity. Only a dragon body could withstand the enormous heat she pulled out of the living Kardia.
    She couldn’t remain human and survive to finish the spell. Coronnan and her family needed the new barrier at the border, desperately.
    With love and regret she looked at her husband, felt his love being returned to her through the magical cord that would always connect them, no matter which body she used. Then she looked toward her baby. Queen Maarie Kaathliin cuddled her close, protecting her as well as Myri could.
    (Amaranth!) she called her love and farewell to her baby. The only baby she would ever bear.
    Then she gave herself up to the tremendous heat and friction that channeled through her.
    Better to live as a dragon and be able to watch and protect her loved ones than to die and break the chain of power that built an impenetrable border between Coronnan and her enemies.
     
    Part of Powwell watched Thorny hunch and relax in rhythm with the breathing of every magician in the circle of power. He had one hand on the shoulder of the magician to his left. His right hand—where Thorny perched—rested flat against the black glass so he couldn’t stroke his familiar’s spines. Thorny wiggled and rubbed his nose against Powwell in mute understanding of the problem.
    Only a small piece of Powwell’s awareness remained in the spell. The magicians of Coronnan didn’t need his mind, only his talent. If he could separate his thoughts enough to touch Thorny, then he could focus on Kalen.
    The communal vision of the growing wall between Coronnan and SeLenicca stood back, looking at the entire problem. Nimbulan’s genius as a Battlemage centered around his ability to view the entire field, thousands of men and multitudes of small skirmishes. Powwell needed a closer look at one particular section.
    The magic of the spell offered him the thoughts of every man sitting at the glass table. These men didn’t interest him. He needed to hone in on the thoughts of Moncriith and Yaassima. Only they could tell him what happened to Kalen.
    Thorny slid off Powwell’s hand onto the table. Only the tips of the hedgehog’s spines brushed his thumb. Was it enough of a separation? Powwell tapped Thorny’s sense of smell. Find the Bloodmage, he ordered himself and the hedgehog.
    Suddenly his awareness jerked away from the courtyard, beyond Coronnan City. He skimmed along the communal vision of the border. At a narrow pass far south of the primary action, Powwell’s augmented senses skidded to a halt, backed up and flew into the canyon.
    The smell of old blood, of hot rocks, and desert dryness lingered there.
    Powwell added sight to smell. Moncriith came into view, his red robe standing out among the dark uniforms of his troops.
    “Run forward. Everyone run forward!” Moncriith screamed as the magic barricade threatened to blockade the narrow pass. His men scrambled in all directions to avoid the pulsating energy most of them couldn’t see. Discipline dissolved, and the soldiers ignored their leaders. Sergeants and lieutenants abandoned their posts as well as their men.
    Steeds screamed and reared. They fought the traces that bound them to sledges and prevented flight.
    Yaassima slowed her steps in deliberate defiance of her captor’s orders. Strong rope, fortified with magic, encircled her neck in a tight noose and bound her hands before her body. If she moved so that her hands were low enough to secure her balance, she choked. If she raised her hands to ease the pressure on her throat, she stumbled with every step.
    The soldier assigned to her tugged sharply on the extension of rope, pulling her forward. She had to take several rapid, short steps to remain upright.
    Then she gave in to the Kardia and plunged forward, sideways across the path, careful to land on the unmarred side of her ruined face. The soldier had to stop or choke her to death. Moncriith had ordered her alive until he needed a sacrifice for a battle spell.
    Men tripped over her and sprawled across the path