The Dragon Nimbus Novels: Volume II

distance was his only answer.
     
    Dust motes drifting on a soft beam of sunlight penetrated Myri’s awareness. She blinked rapidly several times, trying to remember.
    “Where am I?” she asked the sunbeam. “Why did I come here?” She remembered running. Running from . . . something terrible but important. Why couldn’t she remember what had happened to her? She wasn’t home. That she knew. A vague image of Old Magretha crossed her mind. Home was a shack in the woods or the vague promise of the voices on the wind. This shelter . . . what was this shelter?
    Behind the ray of light, she saw rock walls. Not the dressed stone of a man-made fortress, but the undulating flow of natural stone patterns. Yellow and gray layered upon each other in irregular widths. Light to the left. Dark to the right. A glow in the center.
    She looked down to discover a neat fire ring and a fresh fish spitted over the coals. Her stomach growled, reminding her that she had caught the fish earlier. She had settled into this cave above a sheltered cove for the winter. The cave was nearly invisible from the sandy beach below, nestled into the shadow of the curving headland. She had run from something to this coastal refuge.
    The sound of waves shushing against a sandy shore added itself to her growing picture of her campsite.
    Campfires? Dozens of fires serving hundreds of men. An army. The face of a Battlemage who tried to be gentle with her. His green eyes promised protection.
    She had run away from the camp. Run to . . . danger.
    Danger that was past now.
    “How long have I been here?” The sound of her voice echoing slightly within the cave reassured her that she still lived and wasn’t lost in some void-induced dream.
    No memory responded to her question. Only a sense of fear and running. Quickly she checked the cave for others. She seemed to be alone.
    Someone was missing. An emptiness yawned in her chest behind her heart.
    “Who?”
    She stretched her arms to her side, expecting to feel wings catch on the slight breeze coming in from the opening. The lift and surge of flight did not follow.
    “Not me. I am Kardia-bound. Amaranth. Amaranth flies. Where is he?”
    Shadows danced across the sunlight. Myri scrambled to her feet and looked out the mouth of the ancient sea cave. Gulls swooped and soared. A large bird dove into the waves and sprang free of the water with a fish in its beak.
    The flying shapes were all too small and white. Myri searched the fluffy clouds and pale autumnal sky for signs of a bulkier black form. Nothing. She stretched her listening senses for Amaranth’s mewling cry.
    “Merwack.” In the far distance. Faint and excited. (We have tested him and found him worthy!)
    “Who? Who did you test and find worthy of what?” Myri almost laughed at Amaranth’s excitement. His mental pictures of towering columns of mist and blue sparks didn’t make sense. “Where have you been, Amaranth?”
    She dug her toes into the flaking sandstone, stretched her arms as if for flight, and sent her mind on a straight line to Amaranth. Her mind blended with his and she found the freedom of flight she dreamed of so often. Up through the clouds. Up toward the blessed sun. The wind buffeted her. It smelled of salt and cold dampness. A storm gathered beneath her, preparing to assault the Great Bay. She rose above it. Seeking. Always seeking.
    She reached out for him with her mind and her love. We are together now. Come to me, Amaranth. I miss you. I need you, Amaranth. Awareness of her Kardia-bound body layered on top of her illusion of flight. Finally a black spot appeared to her physical eyes far to the north and west.
    Come, my precious Amaranth. Come and tell me all about your adventures, the test, and who you found worthy.
    Gradually the black spot grew and took on the distinctive shape of a falcon. The bird broadened. Its tail lengthened and fluffed. Instead of a wickedly curved beak, she sensed a flatter cat’s muzzle and whiskers.
    “Amaranth.” Myri sighed with relief. The one constant in her life. No matter what she forgot, how many days she lost in the void, Amaranth always returned to her.
    “Meereek!” The flywacket faltered and lost elevation. Through his eyes, Myri saw a fish glittering in the waves below. Extreme hunger overcame them both. Together they dove to catch the enticing meal.
    The vision of the fish vanished, replaced by the symmetrical grid of a fisherman’s net. “Pull up, Amaranth.” Fear