The Dragon Nimbus Novels: Volume III: Volume III

Bessel.
    Bessel fought to keep his steps short and awkward until he had rounded the corner into a wider street. A few people passed him without a second glance. Their attention was fastened upon the commotion at the front of the house on Embassy Row.
    The crowd milled. Anger dominated the aura of the gathering. But it had no focus.
    Suppressing a grin, Bessel shouted above the noise. “I saw one of the blackmailing Rovers with the foreigners. They’re in league with the foreigners.” The crowd took up the litany, linking their current troubles with the mercenaries from Rossemeyer rather than with the king.
    He wanted to join them, but he had an important task.

Chapter 45
     
    Inside Kinnsell’s shuttle on a plateau deep in the Southern Mountains
     
    Y aala stirred cautiously from beneath a pile of seat cushions and broken equipment. When the shuttle came to a screeching halt, she had been thrown into a bulkhead. She slipped on the sharply canted deck trying to get her feet under her.
    The shuttle shifted again. The deck tilted more steeply. She froze in place.
    A quick assessment showed Rollett stirring on the other side of the cabin and Kinnsell staring wide-eyed and gaping out the window at the baby dragon peering in through the window. A faint hint of blue along wingtips and horns highlighted the dragon’s dark pewter color. Afternoon sunlight glinted off his fur. He appeared about the size of a small pack steed, quite young.
    “Don’t move, Rollett,” she commanded. He froze, much as she had. “We’re balanced precariously.”
    “I think that baby dragon sitting on the nose of the shuttle is all that is keeping us on the ledge,” he whispered back, as if afraid that the sound of his voice would upset the balance.
    “Can you see Lyman and Powwell?” she asked. Wreckage blocked her view of the central cabin.
    “Lyman’s legs. Not much else,” Rollett replied.
    “I’m alive,” Lyman whispered back. “Powwell is burning up with fever.” Yaala picked out the outline of Lyman’s body amid the debris piled around them. He shifted his legs, trying to get his knees under him.
    “Don’t move,” she and Rollett ordered together, much too loud.
    The shuttle shifted again.
    “I . . . if th . . . that monster is real,” Kinnsell stuttered, “can you make it sit on the nose, like a teeter-totter?”
    Yaala and Rollett looked at each other and shrugged off the strange words.
    “A lever and a fulcrum, dammit! We need a counterbalance on the front to offset the heavy engines in the back.” Kinnsell’s exasperation broke through his stunned staring.
    “Where there is one baby dragon, there will be a dozen more. They don’t stray far from the lair at that age. Mama Shayla should be around here somewhere. She’ll provide an adequate counterbalance,” Lyman said. He lifted his head, cocking it to one side. The gesture was so common to him, Yaala hadn’t recognized it as a listening pose until now.
    “Do you speak to the dragons, Lyman?” she asked.
    “Often. I missed them while I was in Hanassa. The dragons won’t let their thoughts penetrate that city,” Lyman replied. “The dragonets are too young to communicate with humans. I’m only getting baby screeches from them, no images or words.” He tilted his head in the other direction. “Ah, there’s Shayla, coming in from a hunt. She understands.”
    A loud thump vibrated down the length of the shuttle. Metal screeched again as huge talons tore at the strange skin. Then, slowly, the deck straightened.
    “She’s perched on the roof,” Rollett said with a smile. “She wants us to open the hatch and very carefully slide out. The shuttle weighs more than she does, and she can’t hold it long.”
    “I’m not going out there,” Kinnsell protested. “I’m not going to become that monster’s next meal.” He continued to stare at the baby dragon.
    Yaala couldn’t help giggling. The baby was tiny. Wait until he saw Shayla!
    “I—can’t—open—the—door!” Lyman said through gritted teeth as he pushed buttons on the control panel and kicked at the hatch.
    “There are dragons out there. Can’t you gather some magic and force it open?” Yaala asked.
    “The air in here is sealed tighter than anything we have encountered before,” Lyman reminded her. “The dragon magic can’t get in, and I haven’t enough reserves to levitate the locking mechanism.”
    Yaala looked to Rollett for inspiration.
    “The engines aren’t