The Dragon Nimbus Novels: Volume III: Volume III

man acknowledge her.
    “Since none of you can give me the proper answer, I will give you a hint. Air and Fire are linked as elements. Since the dragons fly through the air and shoot flames to cook their meat and defend themselves—not that anything on Kardia Hodos remains that is big enough to be a danger to a dragon—when a magician gathers dragon magic, he throws spells most closely linked with those two elements.”
    Margit stood up in the center of the gathering of two dozen students and faced the master. “I know the answer, sir, and the theory behind it.”
    “When a magician is forced to draw magical energy from the kardia, as we had to do until recently, then our spells must be rooted in the kardia. Now what element is left that would be linked to the kardia?” WithyReed continued to ignore Margit.
    Anger boiled in Margit’s stomach and heated her face and hands. “Kardia and Water are linked and therefore an irrigation spell must be rooted in the kardia to draw the water from its natural flow in the creek or river to the unnatural channel dug for irrigation.” She clenched her fists until her fingernails drew blood from her palms.
    “Ferrdie, have you figured it out yet?” Withy Reed acted as if Margit had not spoken at all.
    “Why do you ignore me, sir?” she blurted out, thrusting herself directly in front of him. She topped him in height by at least two finger-lengths. He could not ignore her now.
    “Sit down, girl. You are here to listen only. Females cannot gather dragon magic, so your presence in the University is temporary. Speak up, Ferrdie, I need you to answer the question.”
    Margit gritted her teeth and clenched her hands. Oh! to slam one of her fists into the pompous little magician’s face. Before she could follow through with her desires, she whipped around and marched out of the forecourt, spine stiff, hands clenched and tears pricking her eyes.
    I will not run. I will not give him the satisfaction of running from him.
    She met no one between the forecourt and the girl’s dormitory on the north side of the quadrangle of timbered buildings. Girls represented over half the apprentices. Females young and old were the most common victims of Gnul persecution. In the last three years, Marcus and Robb had brought more girls here for refuge than boys. WithyReed and the other masters had no right to pretend female magicians would evaporate and never bother them again. She fully intended to achieve journeyman status. Only as a journeyman—or journeywoman—could she even hope to accompany Marcus on his treks from one end of the country to the other. Maybe even—she dared hope—they could travel to exotic locations on other continents.
    She stepped into the room she shared with Annyia. The dark-haired child/woman had been savagely beaten and raped by her stepbrothers in an attempt to kill the magical talent they thought she possessed. They probably succeeded. The ignorant fools believed the myth that only virgins could work magic. WithyReed and his antique prejudice that demanded male magicians remain celibate until they became masters didn’t help the situation.
    Jaylor had placed Margit in the same room with Annyia, hoping some of the older girl’s confidence and determination would help Annyia break away from her guilt and depression. Margit had little patience with her roommate’s tears and frantic starts at every sharp noise.
    “WithyReed ignores me because I am female. But if I look like a boy . . . Maybe he’d forget his prejudices for a moment. Just one short moment until he realizes I know what I’m doing.”
    She marched to the little chest at the foot of her cot where she kept her few personal possessions. The blue tunic and brown trews she had worn on the trek to the University from the capital were on the bottom, cleaned and mended. Beneath them she found her dagger, the one she had used to defend herself in the market square before Jaylor recruited her as his spy.
    For a moment her memory put her back in the crowded market square on King Darville’s coronation day. She had been selling her mother’s baked goods to the hungry throngs waiting for the grand procession after the ceremony. When a foreign spy had threatened her because he did not like the spices in the sausage roll she sold him, Jack had come to her rescue. She’d been more than willing to defend herself with her knife, but Jack had diffused the anger of the crowd and discovered a dangerous plot