The Dragon Nimbus Novels: Volume III: Volume III

finger. “We’ve brought you back from the dead, don’t hasten to return there.”
    The kardia shifted beneath Yaala’s feet. She braced herself against the rolling motion. “That was stronger than the last one, and closer,” she said. “When was the last one?” She realized she’d been so preoccupied with Rollett, she had forgotten the reason for their perilous route to this situation.
    “We have to get out of here before—” A crash of falling stone and a shower of dust in the corner of Liise’s cavern punctuated her statement.
    The cave system had been her refuge from her mother’s tyranny for many years before her official banishment. The machines had been her only true friends. She belonged here.
    No longer.
    Sadness and regret welled up in her throat and dissipated again as Rollett struggled to his feet. She slid an arm under his shoulders, guiding his rise.
    A sense of rightness filled her, replacing the loneliness of many years. She had to find a new family, a new purpose for living. She’d start with these three men.
    “This will never be Liise’s cavern again. She’s dead, and so are all the rest of my machines,” she whispered. “No reason to stay.”
    “Powwell!” Lyman left her to support Rollett alone while he kept Powwell from falling flat on his face.
    “What’s wrong with him?” Yaala barely spared a backward glance as she half-led and half-carried Rollett up the slope toward the living cavern and the exit.
    “I don’t think he much cares if he lives or dies,” Lyman said, pushing Powwell to follow her. “I know how he feels. We have both lost a sibling today. There is this terrible emptiness.” He placed his palm against his chest then resolutely closed his hand into a self-contained fist.
    He and Powwell stood together with heads bowed, swaying as they shared the bond of grief.
    “I lost my twin centuries ago.” Lyman gulped. His voice trailed off and his chin quivered. “I lost Hanassa when he turned renegade, but always I had this faint hope he might be redeemed. Now I have truly lost Hanassa. We will never complete each other again.” He bowed his head again, seeming much older than he had when he arrived in the caves.
    “I killed her, Yaala,” Powwell whispered. “I came here to save Kalen, yet I ended up killing her.” Tears streaked his face. The little ball of witchlight flickered, reflecting his waning strength and wandering concentration.
    “I’m sorry, Powwell. I’m truly sorry. I know how much you loved Kalen. I know what it is like to lose someone you love dearly, to be helpless as they die before your eyes. But we have to save ourselves now.” Yaala led them into the living cavern. They staggered forward. The sounds of collapsing tunnels pursued them the entire distance. The dust grew thicker until they breathed more dirt than air.
    For the first time, she became aware of the miles of kardia that rested above their heads. It could all come tumbling down at any time without warning.
    At last the large cavern with tons of stored food lay before them. The walls seemed more stable here, the air a little cleaner.
    Yaala deposited Rollett on a heap of grain sacks next to a barrel full of pickled meat and vegetables. She gave him and Powwell a handful of each. They nibbled halfheartedly. Lyman dug into the supplies with a little more energy.
    The pile of stores showed signs of pilferage—torn sacks, open barrels turned on their side—but more than enough remained to fulfill their immediate needs.
    “I’ll get water for us all,” Yaala said retrieving four carry skins.
    “Did Kalen as the wraith survive?” Yaala asked as she knelt by the underground stream, letting the natural flow fill the portable bottles. She held her breath, fearing the answer.
    “Doubtful,” Lyman replied.
    “And . . . and is Hanassa truly gone?”
    “I cannot sense my twin within this mountain. I haven’t the strength to search farther.” A set look came over Lyman’s face.
    “And the dragongate?” Rollett gasped in whispered tones. “Have we totally lost that exit from this hellhole?”
    “Yes,” Powwell answered. A tiny spark of animation came into his eyes. Or was it merely a reflection from the ball of witchlight? “I fear the false gate that only opens once each moon is gone as well. We must fight our way out of Hanassa now.”
    “I can’t leave as long as Piedro lives,” Rollett announced in a stronger, more resolute voice. “The consort might not