The Dragon Nimbus Novels: Volume III: Volume III

plague.”
    “Don’t worry, Yaala. I should be immune. The Tambootie in my system from the old days is supposed to protect me from any number of ailments.” He turned and grinned at her.
    Somehow his reassurance fell flat as he muttered, “If Old Lyman’s books are accurate.”
    “Of course my books are accurate,” the old man returned indignantly. “Let’s see if King Kinnsell is truly dead, or if you can help him. I’ll gladly read his mind while he’s still unconscious and undefended. He has much to answer for, bringing the plague, sabotaging King Quinnault’s authority. . . .” Muttering further descriptions of Kinnsell’s crimes, Lyman disappeared into the machine’s interior. Maia continued to stand in the doorway, wringing her hands.
    A ripple of disturbance in the crowd revealed the presence of Piedro and his Rover guards, six of them. They surged toward Maia. An evil grin split Piedro’s face.
    “At last, lovely lady, you return to us.” Piedro reached up a hand to help Maia descend, as if she were returning royalty instead of the mistress of their former leader—Piedro’s now dead rival. “Our group mind has been lacking since your departure. You must have much to tell us.”
    “Don’t even think about moving,” Yaala commanded, stepping up beside Piedro. “I won’t let you spread that disease to my city!”
    “The Kaalipha! Yaassima’s daughter, our true Kaalipha!” the people shouted, surging forward dangerously close to the machine and the plague.
    Piedro dropped Maia’s hand and stared openmouthed at Yaala. His surprise lasted only a moment.
    “Seize her, she’s one of the traitors!” he screamed. “I thought we left you dead in the pit,” he hissed more quietly.
    “Long live the Kaalipha returned from the dead!” the people screamed hysterically. The ones closest pushed and jostled, trying to touch Yaala.
    “Open the gates to the city, Kaalipha.”
    “Save us, Kaalipha.”
    “Feed us, Kaalipha.”
    They shoved and pushed uncontrollably, separating Yaala from proximity with the Rovers. The steps of the machine dug sharply into her legs. She wanted to run back into the protection and the silence of the pit.
    All these people, pushing and demanding her attention. All these people shouting at her, robbing her of her privacy. She couldn’t think, couldn’t breathe.
    She stumbled against the steps, clutching at the sides of the portal. Air left her lungs. The bitter taste of the plague filled her mouth.

    Midafternoon, home of Myrilandel, Ambassador from the Nimbus of Dragons, Coronnan City
     
    “Did you hear the row Scarface just had with the king?” Luucian, a journeyman healer Bessel knew slightly from the old days before dragon magic, rushed into Myrilandel’s kitchen. He clutched a pile of greenery against his chest. His breath came in excited gasps.
    “I do not indulge in gossip,” Bessel said calmly to cover his anxiety. Scarface had been dismissed as chief adviser to the king. His anger could lash out at any moment in any form, catching them all in the backlash.
    “But you heard, you were eavesdropping at the servants’ door!” Luucian prodded. He dumped his trove of plants on the worktable in the center of the kitchen.
    “The kettle is about to boil, there’s cheese in the cold cellar, and bread in the pantry. They’ll all want nourishment when they’re done with the master. Can you handle it?” Bessel marched from his listening post to the outside door.
    “Wait a minute, Bessel, where are you going? Didn’t you hear that Scarface is out? He’s no longer Senior Magician, so you can return to the University. Don’t you want to stick around and make sure they, ” Luucian nodded his head toward the interior of the house where master magicians hovered, “remember you are Senior Journeyman, almost ready for elevation to Master status? Promotion is as much politics as merit. You need to keep your face in front of as many masters as possible to get your final quest.”
    “None of that will matter if Scarface decides to retaliate. Cover for me.”
    Mopsie pawed at the door, as eager to be gone as Bessel. He whined and yipped anxiously.
    “But I’ve got orders to help Queen Katie prepare the Fairy Bells into a drug instead of pure poison. I need to know how to do it. You fix the food. I need knowledge to earn my promotion.”
    “You can handle both, Luucian, I have confidence in you.” Bessel didn’t wait any longer. He had to follow