The Dragon Nimbus Novels: Volume III: Volume III

fell in wide folds all around her, disguising her posture.
    The gown hung too heavily on her thin frame. Since her last miscarriage—a very dangerous one that had required Brevelan and Jaylor to transport to the capital to heal her—Mikka had been listless and pale with little appetite. If Jack did not succeed with his special project soon, she might die of a broken heart.
    “Your Grace, it’s only me.” Jack half rose from his crouched position, then ducked quickly back within the broad leaves and abundant red blossoms. He wanted to sneeze away the heavy perfume of the flowers, but didn’t dare. Even here, guards trailed behind the royal couple. Two of them, Jack suspected of being at least spies for the Gnuls, if not actual witch-sniffers. And they closed in upon the royal couple, alerted by Darville’s startlement.
    After his conversation with Aquilla, he suspected more people than he had this morning. He dared not use even the tiniest of spells as long as any of these men were present.
    Darville soothed his wife with a gentle hand to her mane of multicolored hair. She leaned into his caress and kissed his palm.
    “I need to speak with you privately, Your Grace.”
    “My office. You are on duty later today.”
    “This won’t wait, and there are too many curious people hanging around the barracks. I can’t get in there yet to change to a clean uniform,” Jack insisted. He’d dried his tunic and trews as best he could before Aquilla’s fire, but the uniform was crumpled and stained, not fit to be worn in the king’s presence.
    “Your Grace, what do you fear?” Sergeant Fred asked. He held his functional battle sword at the ready while he scanned the bushes and tree branches for signs of an enemy. Equally alert, his five attending soldiers spread out in a wide circle.
    Jack trusted Fred. The slightly older soldier had been with the king for a number of years as personal bodyguard and confidant. Of all the palace guard, only Fred knew Jack’s true reason for being in the capital disguised as another trusted soldier.
    “Only a bird scuttling in the bushes after a worm, Sergeant,” Darville dismissed the six hovering attendants.
    Fred gestured to the men to retreat the required ten paces to grant the king and queen an illusion of privacy.
    Rossemikka bent to sniff at the red blossoms that concealed Jack from mundane eyes. Her fingers relaxed and when she blinked, her eyes had returned to a normal round pupil.
    Darville rubbed the back of his wrist idly. Were the red weals beneath his fingertips cat scratches? The queen must be in a high state of agitation if she allowed the cat persona trapped within her to rise to the surface so readily. She hadn’t scratched her husband in weeks.
    “Are you any closer to finding a cure for me?” the queen asked in her slightly accented voice. She hailed from the desert kingdom of Rossemeyer where the land was so harsh, the people traded for all of their food and most of their household goods with mercenaries and the fiery liquor called beta’arack. “I would be rid of this cat.”
    “Alas, Your Grace, no. I wish I had found the proper spell. I came today to warn you both of extreme danger. A boatload of witch-sniffers arrived at the port islands this morning.” Three islands at the edge of deep water in the Great Bay marked the sailing limit for large vessels. Only shallow draft barges piloted by Guild of Bay Pilot members could negotiate the mudflats of the inner bay. “They await transport into the city. Another one hundred are due to arrive next week. Some of these foreign seekers are extremely sensitive. They may ‘smell’ the cat within you since it was put there by magic.”
    Jack checked the position of the soldiers. The two he suspected had inched forward, right arms slightly extended and circling. They kept the signature gesture of a witch-sniffer subtle. But Jack knew they sought him.
    Darville must have seen them as well. He shifted his position so that he stood between his beloved queen and the sniffers. Years ago, before he ascended to the throne, Darville had been kidnapped by his cousin, the rogue magician Krej, and ensorcelled into the body of a golden wolf. When Jaylor had rescued him and exposed the plot, Darville had fallen ill from the effects of too many spells being cast upon a mundane within too short a time. The illness had given the Council of Provinces reason to deny him the crown for many moons.
    He could always claim that the