The Dragon Nimbus Novels: Volume III: Volume III

trade.”
    “Bribing nobles to make magic legal again,” Robb added with a grin. But his smile looked false. As false as the hazy light that dominated the entire monastery.
    “And the gold just sits here! And we can’t get out to put it to use.”
    “Every bit of information we gather is a step toward finding an exit.” Robb placed a comforting hand upon Marcus’ shoulder. “We’re magicians, trained to think, to plan, and solve problems. We can’t always trust in luck. If we plan it right, we’ll get out of here.”
    Warmth and reassurance spread from Robb’s touch. Marcus absorbed it, fighting for a small glimmer of hope.
    “We’ve got to make our own luck, Marcus. Maybe there is significance in the number and arrangement of bags. Perhaps these isolated shelves in the center of the room mask an exit we haven’t discovered yet. We won’t know until we investigate.”
    “What is happening to us, Robb? I’m supposed to be the one who gives you cheer and encouragement. That’s why we work so well together. You think, I plow forward with infinite optimism, making up the plan as we go.” Marcus covered his friend’s hand on his shoulder with his own and squeezed to show his undying friendship—even in this terrible time.
    “We’ve been in worse scrapes before. Remember that time in Hanic when that farmer caught us hiding in his byre with his daughter? He chased us bare-assed through his fields for almost a quarter league before we got our wits together enough to throw up magical armor?” They both chuckled at the memory. “Think about something pleasant for a while, rather than what we can’t do. Think about Margit. Margit always brings a smile to your face.”
    “Margit.” Marcus tried to conjure her image in his mind’s eye. Bold and forthright, she had a minor magical talent and had used it in good stead as Jaylor’s spy in the royal household. Her dark blond braids bounced with life as she strode strongly through each task.
    But she hated living indoors. And she hated cats; said they robbed her breath. When Marcus had seen her last, she had not known the nature of Queen Rossemikka’s problem—that a cat spirit shared her body.
    But she had known her own heart and pledged it to Marcus.
    A daintier blonde, more mature, milder of temperament and smaller of body superimposed herself upon Marcus’ inner vision.
    Vareena.
    “I bet Vareena likes cats as much as I do,” he said to himself.
    He shook his head to clear it.
    “I wonder if Jaylor has found a solution to the queen’s problem?” he mused rather than admit his sense of guilt and betrayal of Margit. He’d loved her and been faithful to her for two years and more. He’d never loved anyone for that long before.
    “We won’t know what is going on in the capital or the University until we find a way to break the spell trapping us. Now count the bags. Count the pattern of their arrangement. Count the coins themselves.”
    “And what will you be doing while I count?”
    “Counting the graves of the ghosts. Searching the temple foundation stones for another exit. I have this odd feeling that something is missing. Something I should have noticed.”
    Robb turned to retreat from the bookless library and froze in his tracks.
    Alerted to danger, Marcus opened his senses and stared in the direction Robb looked—toward the back of the room into deep shadows from the overhanging gallery and more empty shelves.
    And something else. A glittering mist that gathered and coalesced into a vague human shape. Dressed in old-fashioned robes of gold and brown, the figure carried a bloody sacrificial knife and a magician’s staff.
    “Do you see what I see?” Robb whispered.
    “I hope I don’t. That . . . that looks like a ghost. A real ghost.” His balance and perceptions twisted. He stumbled and clutched the gold-laden shelves for balance.
    “That ghost looks very angry indeed!” Robb wasn’t standing easy on the roiling floor either.
    “Run!”

Chapter 18
     
    M arcus skidded to a halt on the slick paving stones at the end of the colonnade. He had to bend over to catch his breath. Still, icy bugs seemed to climb his spine. He imagined the ghost slicing into his back from the base of his spine upward.
    Robb careened into him. They looked at each other, eyes wide. Marcus’ heart beat loudly in his ears.
    Without a word spoken, they took off again, away from the buildings toward the graveyard and the foundations for the old