The Dragon Nimbus Novels: Volume III: Volume III

He knows nothing of the reality of politics or economics, nothing of the greed of men. He knows only magic, the theories and techniques. Now he expects me to step aside and allow him to govern all magic and magicians in Coronnan. He’ll botch the job for certain. Without me working beside him to keep lords and merchants honest in their dealings, he’ll be bankrupt and disgraced before a moon has transpired.
    But I will not be there to drag him out of the muck of politics and economics. This time his insults and disdain go too far. I shall take myself and my meager savings to another. Another man will pay me well to be his Battlemage. My so-called friend will have to face me in battle. He shall come alone and unprepared, because I am not there to do the work for him beforehand.
    But first I must secure what is mine! No one shall find it in three hundred years.

    Marcus jerked away from the wall as if burned. The anger of the man scorched the very walls of this monastery. His palm continued to tingle and radiate heat. He’d learn nothing more tonight.
    “Ackerly. I think his name was Ackerly,” he whispered as he made his way back to bed.

Chapter 26
     
    R obb sat atop the open northwest watchtower above the kitchen and refectory, watching the stars. The haze thinned up here, giving him a clearer view. Many hundreds of years ago, hundreds of magician priests, and retired magicians, healers, and Battlemages had taken turns sitting up here watching the same stars. He found the familiar constellations, noting their position in the sky automatically. His planetary orientation told him that his observations were correct—something he couldn’t discern down in the courtyard. The great wheel of stars around the moon had moved seventeen days since he and Marcus had arrived.
    And yet they had only slept three nights. Time as well as magic became distorted within the monastery.
    Another storm massed clouds to the west. But it would not arrive until tomorrow or the next day in real time, depending on the winds that pushed it. He didn’t think it would hit with as much severity as the last one, if it reached them at all. The time distortion might very well push the weather elsewhere. Only one storm in a thousand hit the forgotten enclave, and then only those storms of unusual fierceness.
    The scent of yeast bread rising wafted up to him from the refectory. What was he to do with Vareena and her obvious infatuation with him? “She loves the idea that I might take her away from here more than she loves me,” he decided.
    Idly, he tossed pebbles off the roof thinking of nothing and everything. Mostly he avoided thinking of Marcus and his declaration of love.
    How could he ever feel close to his comrade again?
    They had traveled the length and breadth of Coronnan several times these last three years. Many times they had faced danger together. Many more times they had fled from it. Never had they questioned their friendship or their dependence upon each other. But that need had never crossed over the unspoken sexual boundaries Marcus now teetered on.
    They both enjoyed women, looked forward to the day they could commit to just one. That they both wanted Margit hadn’t seemed to matter. Margit loved Marcus. Robb had convinced himself he’d learn to love another someday.
    But now? He’d rather watch the pebbles he threw, feel the rhythm of his shoulders and arms as he got the knack of aiming them to different parts of the monastery.
    The stones landed in the packed dirt of the courtyard with tiny plunk sounds. He cast the next pebbles farther, aiming for a peculiar twist in the silvery-blue ley line. It landed on the slate paving stones around the well with a satisfying thwack. The next six pebbles also landed anywhere but on top of a ley line. Curious. The lines might be illusory, part of the confinement spell. He put more energy into the next pebble, a slightly larger piece of rubble from this rooftop observation post. It soared over the walls of the monastery to land silent and unseen.
    “So, things can get out of here. People with magical talent can’t.” But could a spell?
    Shrugging his shoulders, he lit a candle and dug out his shard of glass. He went through the motions of setting up the summons spell without thinking. Just before he sent his mind through the glass into the candle, he sat back and looked up at the stars once more. They twinkled at him invitingly.
    “It’s worth a try.” He moved the candle to