The Dragon Nimbus Novels: Volume III: Volume III

where he was. He sighed heavily and brought a ball of cold witchlight to his hand.
    “Just a nightmare. I still have my magic and my luck.” He rolled over and curled into his bedroll, seeking to warm the chill of sweat drying on his skin.
    Images of Margit’s fury superimposed themselves on his mind every time he closed his eyes.
    “I don’t love Margit. ’Tis Vareena who has captured my heart.” He tried to conjure her image before him, starting with her cloud of fair curls surrounding delicate features, frail frame, and serene demeanor.
    Margit’s laugh and well-muscled strength kept trying to mask the pictures he held in his mind’s eye.
    “I love Vareena. Tomorrow I’ll find a way out of here so that we can be together. Forever,” he repeated over and over again, until exhausted sleep finally claimed him.

Chapter 9
     
    “M arcus, we’ve tried this before.” Robb sighed heavily. “But we haven’t tried it this way,” Marcus replied. Eagerly he placed his right foot into a crevice in the outer wall. Then he reached for the first secure handhold with a show of confidence he didn’t really feel. They’d been trying to escape the old monastery all morning with no luck.
    No luck. The words rang ominously around his head. He gritted his teeth and hauled himself up to find the next toehold. The chipped crevice he sought eluded him. As his balance teetered and his arms threatened to give way from the strain of holding his weight so precariously, he pressed his back against the gatehouse tower and wedged his body in the tight corner between it and the main curtain wall.
    This would be easier if he’d slept better last night. Even after he’d banished the nightmare of Margit trying to kill him, he had not slept. Every time he’d turned over on the stone bench of a bed, the bed itself had seemed to roll and reshape itself to be more uncomfortable. Good fortune would never return until he escaped this cursed monastery.
    From the looks of the deep shadows beneath Robb’s eyes, he hadn’t slept any better.
    They had to set out of here. Today. Now.
    “Your theory is flawed, Marcus. Whatever magical barrier holds us here is most thorough. Even the scattered ley lines within the courtyard do not reach the wall. They end abruptly and never do they cross. Our summons spell to Jaylor last night did not leave this complex. I think the thick cloud cover kept it within the walls. The confinement spell must have been constructed to surround the entire wall, not just the obvious exits and easily climbed points. Actually from the way you are bracing yourself there, I believe this to be the most obvious place for a climber to escape.” Robb droned on with his logical assessment of their predicament. He held his grounded staff so that the top made little circles at the end of each sentence.
    “But Vareena comes and goes with her brother. Why them and not us?” Marcus returned. “She brought us food and blankets this morning. She talks to us. She sees us. But her brother doesn’t. Not once could I make eye contact with him while we dug Farrell’s grave. Why can Vareena and her brother leave and we can’t?” He didn’t add that he wanted to follow the lovely blonde. He’d follow her to the ends of the kardia if he had to, giving up his dreams of a snug cottage and never wandering more than a few leagues from there ever again.
    Margit’s image reared up before him. She’d never forgive him for deserting her. She’d hunt him down and kill him . . . No that was the nightmare. Margit might make life miserable for him, but she’d never . . . or would she?
    He had a nagging feeling that his infamous good luck wouldn’t solve this problem for him.
    But he had to have Vareena—He caressed the name in his mind as he climbed. Vareena needed his protection. She stood barely as tall as his shoulder. Her willowy figure looked too fragile to withstand a light breeze, let alone stand up to her strapping brother. And yet, from their conversations, Marcus gathered that the entire family of strong brothers and an implacable father listened and obeyed her. She’d remained a spinster to care for them.
    “Perhaps Vareena and her brother have the freedom to leave because they are mundane,” Robb mused. He stroked his dark beard, eyes crossing in thought. In another time and place, Marcus might expect a spell to bounce from the end of his staff. But those ley lines curved and twisted away from each other as if