The Dragon Nimbus Novels: Volume III: Volume III

swallow hit Powwell’s stomach like an explosion and threatened to come back up again.
    “Did I get the plague?”
    “A mild case that I was able to cure,” Luucian said. “You went through the trial by Tambootie smoke last winter, and you’d had a few doses of the raw leaves before Nimbulan discovered dragon magic. There must have been enough of the tree of magic still in your system to keep you alive and to heal King Kinnsell, but since you started as an apprentice after magicians gave up heavy doses of Tambootie, you still succumbed to the disease, probably because you passed so much of your natural immunity to King Kinnsell. It’s a nasty one, spreads very rapidly. If Rouussin hadn’t brought me here to Shayla’s lair when he did, you would have died, Powwell.”
    Powwell smiled at the thought of Rouussin, the elderly red-tipped dragon who viewed humans as willful children who must be indulged.
    He looked around the huge cave a moment. Sure enough a dozen baby dragons perched on various rocks and overhangs. A huge nest of sheep’s wool, feathers, and moss dominated a slightly raised section toward the back. If Shayla was around, he couldn’t see her.
    “The plague in Hanassa? Maia?” he asked.
    “We don’t know yet. The dragons will scout the area and drop supplies, including some Tambootie wood for fires and timboor to add to their food. We have other issues to settle before we send investigators,” Rollett answered, still pacing.
    “Actually, the population as a whole is not threatened by the plague,” Kinnsell added. He was behind Powwell and out of sight.
    “Explain?” Luucian looked up. Curiosity overshadowed his fatigue.
    “In my world, a haze of pollution alters the light patterns from the sun.” He hesitated as if seeking the proper words. “Our bodies adapt to the changes in light. The poisons in the pollution build up in our bodies, triggering more changes. It is these changes along with the toxins in our bodies that allow the plague to attack us. You don’t have the pollution, so only the weak and vulnerable—the old, the very young, and pregnant women—catch the disease. Miners might have a problem from coal dust, but the rest of you should be okay. Powwell caught it because of the direct blood contact. My blood in his system carried food for the plague.”
    “Interesting. I’ll relay that information to the queen,” Luucian replied.
    “Why did Scarface send a journeyman?” Something nagged at Powwell’s mind and wouldn’t let him take the rest he so sorely needed.
    “Scarface didn’t send me. Myrilandel did. The dragons have withdrawn from Scarface and his followers.”
    Silence followed Luucian’s words. Rollett and Yaala stared at him in surprise. Powwell did, too. They all waited for an explanation of this dire situation.
    “The dragons have been staying away from the capital for weeks now. But today they have withdrawn their magic entirely from the Commune. Now that I know you and King Kinnsell will recover—he took to the Tambootie as well as any solitary magician I’ve ever met—I must return to the capital.” Luucian stood up and dusted the knees of his trews. “Nimbulan and King Quinnault need me.”
    “What did Scarface do to earn the wrath of the dragons?” Rollett grabbed Luucian’s sleeve, swinging the healer around to face him.
    “Scarface wants to burn all of the books that mention anything about solitary magic.” Luucian kept his eyes on his knees. “He has compelled all of the Commune to agree with him.”
    “I knew it! I knew he’d go too far in his need to control everyone and everything around him. But this goes beyond all reason, all rationale.” Rollett shook his fists in the direction of the capital city.
    “He can’t burn the books!” Powwell protested. He remembered the precious information about blood magic he’d gleaned from an ancient text. He’d also learned about Rovers, their mind-to-mind magic and ways to avoid being pulled into their traps. Without those books, he’d never have found access to the dragongate. Never have reached Hanassa. . . .
    Oh, Kalen, I’ve failed you once again.
    “Nimbulan has a plan, but he needs help,” Luucian replied as he stooped to pick up his healer’s satchel.
    “Scarface must intend to challenge King Quinnault for more than just those books,” Rollett mused. “He wants control. Control over every life he touches, not just the Commune. I’ve got to go back. We can’t let him