The Dragon Nimbus Novels: Volume III: Volume III

clamped her mouth shut and closed her eyes for a brief moment. When she returned her attention to Ariiell, she appeared calm, gentle, patient, and wise. Her eyes were clear and the familiar lean planes had returned to her cheeks and chin. A demeanor befitting the Center of the coven, a position Rejiia guarded jealously. Even though pregnancy should allow Ariiell to anchor the eight-pointed star rituals, Rejiia had not relinquished her place since her own pregnancy had ousted the late King Simeon from the center.
    “What troubles you, child?” Rejiia asked. An aura of love and forgiveness flowed through the glass. But her hair still needed a good brushing.
    Ariiell didn’t trust that projected image any more than she trusted Rejiia to do anything except advance herself and the cause of the coven.
    “Darville has exiled my entire family from court, Lord Andrall and Lady Lynnetta as well.”
    “Did the marriage take place?” Rejiia asked anxiously.
    “Of course. Darville presided beside the priest. The entire ceremony was duly witnessed and recorded. The child is legitimate. But Rossemikka did not attend. ’Twas not a state event. I doubt anyone outside the family knows of it.” Ariiell allowed herself a small smile.
    “And the idiot?”
    “With us.”
    “Good. Keep him, close. Sleep with him if you must. We need him alive and well until the child is born.”
    “I must return to court, Rejiia. That is the plan. I must be there to poison Darville and his foreign queen as soon as my child is acknowledged the legitimate heir.”
    “Plans change. I leave the poisoning to your guardian who is still in the capital.” Rejiia lifted her hand in the gesture to end the summons.
    But Ariiell had the book of poisons. Her guardian—whatever his name and status in the coven might be—had asked for it several times. She smiled to herself.
    “The plan will not change. My son will rule Coronnan and I shall be regent. The coven will rule Coronnan through me,” Ariiell replied sternly.
    “Plans change,” Rejiia stated firmly. Her eyes narrowed with secrets.
    Suddenly Ariiell did not trust Rejiia to work in the coven’s best interests. She worked only for herself.
    “There may be another heir. I must investigate,” Rejiia continued. “I am needed elsewhere.”
    “The coven has decreed that I must remain at court. Now help me return there. Shall I summon the full coven in council?” Ariiell asserted her rights.
    “Very well, where are you?” Rejiia sighed and rolled her eyes upward. Dark shadows made her brilliantly blue eyes look as deep and fathomless as the Great Bay at midnight.
    Ariiell shuddered with a sudden chill. Rejiia’s anger could be formidable. She wasn’t certain her own magic was strong enough yet to challenge the black-haired, black-hearted woman for the Center of the coven.
    Quickly, Ariiell gave Rejiia a brief accounting of her location, still about five hours’ hard steed ride east and south of Castle Laislac, not too far from the small pass through the mountains into SeLenicca.
    “Really?” Rejiia’s smile brightened. She laughed loud and long. The echoes of her mirth rippled through the glass to bounce off the walls of the attic room. Rejiia might have been next door. “How interesting. At dawn, you must proceed south on the main road for approximately one league, then turn north by northwest on a drover’s track until you reach the small village perched on a rolling meadow by the river. Above the village at the top of a wooded hill is an abandoned monastery. Go there and wait for further instructions.”
    “But that is out of the way! What excuse can I use to separate myself from all these people? They guard me closely.” As they should, since she carried the heir.
    “You’ll think of something. Just get there before noon. The entire fate of the coven depends upon you arriving in time . . . Never mind what for. Just do it. You’ll know why when you arrive.” Rejiia ended the summons with a snap of her fingers.
    The glass turned cloudy with soot from the candle flame. It ceased vibrating with rippling colors and became once more inert.
    The sounds of Rejiia’s misplaced laughter still vibrated in Ariiell’s ears.
    Deflated by hunger and exhaustion from the spell, Ariiell fell back upon the single bed. Sleep wanted to claim her, but her mind spun with possibilities and plans.

    * * *
    “I don’t like the smell of this,” Zebbiah said quietly.
    Miranda started out of a