The Dragon Nimbus Novels: Volume III: Volume III

he’d always thought of as home. Silently he crept up the stairs to the tower room. The stone steps muffled his footsteps. His spell of invisibility muffled the shouts coming from the private enclave of the master magicians. Nothing could block out the intense sound altogether.
    “The plague is upon us, masters, apprentices, and journeymen,” Scarface intoned, as if preaching to a multitude. “The Tambootie is the only cure to this insidious disease. The Tambootie is reserved for dragons and magicians. If we allow the king to harvest enough of the tree of magic to eradicate the seeds of the plague, there will be none left for the dragons to eat or for the Commune to provide the trial by Tambootie smoke for our apprentices as they approach manhood and promotion to journeyman.”
    A murmur of protest broke out, mostly young voices, probably the apprentices who saw this as a threat to their careers as magicians.
    “If the dragons die or desert Coronnan because we allow the destruction of the Tambootie, then we will have no communal magic to bind this kingdom together. We will have to resort to solitary magic and the chaos it brings.” Scarface’s authoritative tones allowed for no challenge.
    But one master spoke up. Bessel thought it might be Saber Cat, one of the former Battlemages turned mercenary who had escaped from Hanassa shortly after Nimbulan and Scarface had last year. He had very prominent canine teeth that stuck out from his upper lip like the predatory cat’s. “Master Aaddler, if we do not allow the Tambootie to be harvested and distilled into the remedy for this plague, then we will die too.”
    “No, we won’t,” Scarface countered. “The trial by Tambootie smoke makes us immune. We magicians can survive and use our communal magic to heal those who are worthy of healing without the loss of the precious tree of magic.”
    “What about the apprentices?” another master asked. Bessel couldn’t discern which one.
    “I order all of them to undergo an abbreviated Tambootie smoke ritual immediately. By tomorrow morning at dawn they will be ready to assist us in the greater task of preserving the Tambootie.”
    Bessel sensed the compulsion oozing out of Scarface. Instinctively, he drew on a ley line to refuel his armor before he believed the logic behind the master magician’s words.
    “How do we save the Tambootie?” many voices asked.
    “We must destroy the knowledge that Tambootie is the only cure.”
    A chill ran down Bessel’s spine.
    “What great magic do you plan, Master Scarface?” Saber Cat asked without hesitation or reservation.
    “Wait and see. At dawn we will undertake this great task that will save us.”
    Bessel drew on every morsel of power he could reach in order to penetrate Scarface’s thoughts.
    All of the dangerous books in the library will be burned in the central courtyard, above the source of illegal rogue magic. I must control that knowledge to protect myself and the Commune from my enemies. Quinnault, Nimbulan, the Rovers, they all want to kill me because I will not be their tool. I must destroy the knowledge that will give them the power to kill me. Knowledge of solitary magic, Rovers, subverting familiars, and dragon secrets must die forever in the cleansing flames. Then and only then will I be safe.

Chapter 41
     
    Afternoon, city of Hanassa
     
    “D on’t you dare get sick on me, Yaala. I’ll give you up to Rollett, but I’ll be damned if I give you up to the plague,” Powwell said, dragging her free of the pressing crowd and their incessant demands.
    “You can’t heal both Yaala and the queen’s father,” Lyman reminded him. “You have already exhausted your magic talent. I’m surprised you are still walking.”
    “I’ll survive. But we have to know how to fly this thing to get us out of here. Once we are free, we can dose Yaala with Tambootie. Her dragon heritage should protect her from the toxins in the raw leaves.” Powwell brushed the hair out of Yaala’s eyes. “You’ll be all right, sweetheart. I promise.”
    “Kinnsell lives?” she asked, looking at the supine figure on the floor.
    “Barely. I know I can keep him alive a little longer, but I’m not sure I can cure him. He’s pretty far gone.” Powwell shook his head sadly.
    “I’ll check out the controls.” Yaala touched Powwell’s face briefly, affectionately. “You will always be my best friend, Powwell. I trust you.”
    Brave words from the woman who trusted machines