The Dragon Nimbus Novels: Volume III: Volume III

soaring on strong wings. He reveled in the sensation a moment, recalling glorious moments piloting his shuttle through atmosphere of the many planets he had visited. Cyber controls responded to the briefest thought, but he preferred the sense of control a joystick gave him. Either way, his shuttle gave him the illusion of true flight like a bird—or a dragon.
    Then the feeling of hunger for meat dominated the old man’s memories.
    Yuck. No civilized person survived on a blood diet anymore.
    Kinnsell shook himself free of the lingering taint of the old man’s perversions.
    “Now that you have dipped into my memories, are you any more enlightened than before?” the old man asked. He rearranged some books on his side of the shelf to reveal more of his face and form. Slight, stoop-shouldered with age. Nearsighted, too, from the way he peered at Kinnsell.
    “May I please know your name?” Kinnsell asked through gritted teeth. He didn’t have time or patience for word games.
    “Ah, the magic word. Please. Yes you may know my name. I am called Lyman, Master Librarian in this existence.”
    “This existence?” Another curious superstition among these people. There had been Terran cultures that believed in multiple incarnations. Bush planets abounded with odd cults. Kinnsell preferred the family tradition of one god, one life, and an afterlife in heaven. That was the accepted philosophy in a large proportion of the civilized worlds. The accepted religion lent itself to a hierarchy of priests who, in turn, could be controlled.
    “You didn’t come here to debate religion and the purpose of life.” Lyman dismissed the subject with the wave of a gnarled hand. “What do you seek? I know all of the books treasured here. I can help you find almost any single volume.”
    “I’m just browsing.”
    “Or looking for something not normally found in a library.”
    “None of your business, Lyman. Just leave me in peace.”
    “Will you ever know peace?”
    “Not until you leave me to my business.”
    “Your business is my business as long as you seek answers in this library.”
    Kinnsell wanted to scream in frustration. Instead, he turned abruptly and stalked off through the maze of bookshelves. He thrust his right hand forward and to the right. He’d hardly walked the length of two aisles when the little man appeared before him, blocking the path.
    Kinnsell evaluated the now visible little man. He appreciated the fine cloth of the old-fashioned blue tunic that hung nearly to his knees, belted with a silk sash. Most men in Coronnan wore shorter tunics with a leather belt beneath to hold up their trousers—or trews as they called them.
    “You won’t find what you seek without me,” Lyman said.
    “I’ll find her if I have to tear this building apart, stone by stone.” But he’d not harm a single page of the precious books.
    “Her? Ah, the only woman you could seek is Maia, the Rover woman.”
    Kinnsell held his breath a moment. Had he really let slip that vital piece of information? He must be more careful.
    “I’m afraid we can’t let you take her,” Lyman continued. “Out of the question, entirely.”
    “I didn’t expect you people to throw your prisoner at me.”
    “She’s not a prisoner. She remains under our protection of her own free will.”
    “I’ve heard that one before.”
    “You don’t understand. She truly wishes to stay under our protection. Strange people, these Rovers. All members of a clan are linked mind to mind. None of them can think or act without all of the others knowing about it. The leader of the clan—usually a powerful magician—directs all of their thoughts and actions, just like a political dictator but more effective because of the magic. They have no freedom as we understand it. We have managed to shield Maia from the manipulations of her wandering relatives. As long as she stays here, she is free of them.”
    “This entire planet has truly bizarre beliefs. That is the most outrageous yet.”
    “Is it? Why else would one of her relatives have coerced you into an impossible rescue attempt? They don’t need her. They fear her position here because they cannot monitor or manipulate her actions. She does not spy upon us for her clan. Therefore, they believe she must be returned to them or be killed. You, King Kinnsell, are their tool for that purpose.”
    “I serve no man but myself.”
    “That’s what you think. If you will excuse me, I must consult with the