The Dragon Nimbus Novels: Volume III: Volume III

changes.”
    “Make your own luck,” Robb reminded him, patting him on the back.
    Together they retreated, blades at the ready.
    But the ghost remained quiet and out of sight.
    “I think saving the life and soul of a Rover chieftain is a bit of luck,” Robb continued when the haze separated them from the darkness in the library. “Rovers have power, and Zolltarn is more powerful than most. He’s indebted to you.”
    “What did he mean that I saved his soul?” Marcus asked quietly.
    “I meant that for a Rover to lose his life to a Bloodmage binds his soul to the murderer. When that Bloodmage is a ghost . . .” Zolltarn shuddered rather than complete the sentence. “My debt to you is immeasurable, young magician. I offer you any of my daughters as your wife.”
    “Uh . . . no thanks. I may have spent the last three years wandering, but the Rover life is not for me. I want a nice little cottage with a wife and a dozen children and a dozen more apprentices.” He felt immeasurably lighter for having voiced his longtime dream. The possibilities seemed firmer.
    Robb raised his eyebrows at him. A big grin tugged at his mouth. “By any chance did you ever tell Margit this is what you want out of life?”
    Marcus shrugged. Had he? No matter. He loved Vareena now. He’d likely never see Margit again.
    “We will be on our way, young magicians,” Zolltarn dismissed them. “We had planned to spend some time here and celebrate the marriage of my daughter Maija to soldier Lanciar. But we do not willingly share space with the ghost of a Bloodmage.” He bowed deeply, all the while edging toward the gatehouse.
    “Good luck getting out of here,” Marcus snorted, keeping his attention on the library.
    “What?” Zolltarn stared at him with eyes narrowed in speculation.
    “Explain the situation to Zolltarn, Robb. I’m going to see if we can persuade the ghost to drop his knife.” Marcus took a deep breath and stepped back in the direction of the library.
    An unholy screech from atop the walls interrupted Robb before he could speak. Lumbird bumps raced up Marcus’ arms and spine. Both he and Robb turned toward this new menace, blades at the ready for the ghost.
    “Stargods, save us all!” Zolltarn crossed himself three times, flapped his wrists in the ward against Simurgh and crossed himself again. “An evil creature out of myths! What strange place is this?”
    A black cat swooped down on black-feathered wings. Its blacker than black fur seemed to absorb all the sunlight. The beast let loose with another of its eerie cries, half yowl, half the screech of an enraged eagle.
    Everyone ducked as it passed.
    Marcus heard many strange invocations against the ancient winged demon Simurgh. As soon as he felt the passage of air on his hair from the cat’s flight, he glanced up to follow its trajectory. Surprisingly it landed neatly on the outstretched arm of a Rover-dark man standing in the archway to the gatehouse. He might have the coloring of a Rover, but he dressed like a Commune magician in blue tunic and trews. Behind him stood a blonde woman. The misty veil of unreality separated them from the rest of the milling crowd of Rovers. Marcus was certain neither of them had been in the courtyard a few moments before. Neither of them was dressed in the garish purple and red on black. But the man’s eyes bore the same shape and intensity as Zolltarn’s.
    He’d seen those eyes before.
    “Stay out of this cursed place,” Vareena ordered, marching quickly up to the newcomers.
    “We seek only a night’s shelter,” the stranger said.
    “With the spawn of Simurgh on your shoulder you seek more than that,” Zolltarn challenged. But his smile returned full force, driving away the sense of foreboding that hovered among his people.
    “Perhaps I seek my grandfather,” the stranger returned the smile. He clutched the hand of the young woman behind him and strode forward.
    “Jack, have you returned to the clan at last?” Zolltarn asked, striding to meet him. The Rover spread his arms wide intending a fierce embrace. Jack remained in place, arms firmly at his side. Zolltarn bounced off him before Jack could rebuff him. Zolltarn frowned deeply. Jack merely nodded with a grimace.
    “You look like a ghost, Grandfather,” Jack said, peering at all of the Rovers with curiosity.
    “I know that man.” Robb whispered to Marcus.
    “He does seem familiar, but I’ve never met Zolltarn’s grandson. I know a lot of men named