The Dragon Nimbus Novels: Volume I: Volume I

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The Dragon Nimbus Novels: Volume I: Volume I Page 103

by Irene Radford


  Jack slid off Baamin’s wing from the edge of the void into the center of the clearing, right beside Jaylor, his old master, and Zolltarn, his grandfather. Affection and a sense of homecoming almost pushed the menace of Rejiia out of his thoughts.

  “Jack, you’re alive!” Katrina squealed in delight behind him. The baby dragons stepped aside so that she could run to him. She plunged the last few steps into his arms.

  He held her tight for two heartbeats, allowing her joy to fill him with purpose. He couldn’t afford the distraction of her greeting. Drawing renewal from the living ley lines he sent a spray of magic water to douse the flames still in Rejiia’s hands.

  Amaranth and his purple-tipped twin joined Katrina in a jubilant rush to get to Jack. Balance askew, Jack’s spell dropped just short of his target.

  His hands landed on the back of the purple-tipped baby dragon.

  Iianthe. The dragonet’s name appeared in Jack’s mind without warning.

  Amaranth, the other reminded him.

  He stroked the silvery fur once in greeting and gave back his own name. Dragon magic jolted through his hands and up his arms. He gathered power from both dragons.

  Energy from the ley lines rushed to greet and twine around the power granted him by dragon. The two magics combined and filled him to overflowing. Jaylor placed a hand on his left shoulder. Zolltarn touched his right. Dragon magic reached out to him and amplified both energy sources. A sense of overwhelming completeness and belonging flooded his being.

  He was home, and this was his family. He didn’t stop to analyze his emotions. He needed a massive counterattack.

  Katrina’s healing Song rose within him. A love song. Rejiia’s evil was the only thing keeping Jack from Katrina’s side. He Sang.

  They ran away to the clearing fair

  They ran away to fight magic.

  They whistled and they sang ’til love overcame

  an enemy evil and tragic.

  A flash of magic counteracted the fire eating away at the barrier. The flame withered.

  “NO! You can’t do this to me. You’re only an untried boy,” Rejiia screamed. From the folds of her gown she drew a wand, a miniature staff. She pointed the tool of focus directly into Jack’s eyes.

  Black arrows of magic sped from the tip of the wood.

  They whistled and they sang ’til the clearing rang

  Filled with love and magic.

  Katrina raised her voice in Song. Beside her, Brevelan and Mikka joined her. Jaylor and Zolltarn raised their arms with a new spell fed by ley lines, dragons, and Song.

  The offending black arrows dissolved into ashes.

  Rejiia renewed the stream of magic.

  Jack raised a wall of armor in front of them.

  Rejiia’s black arrows bounced off the armor and circled in confusion. Anxiously the witch stabbed at her spell with the wand. The arrows withered and fell back into the Kardia.

  Jack raised a whirlwind of sparkling magic to circle around Rejiia and the statue of her father. Leaves and soil, moss and small rocks rolled into the tornado. The wind increased and lifted its burden free of the Kardia’s gravity.

  Everyone in the crowded clearing ducked and shielded vulnerable eyes from the blowing debris.

  He whistled and she sang ’til the clearing rang

  Filled with love and magic.

  The magic storm winked out, taking Rejiia and Krej into the void. The burning arch collapsed and puckered, forming a ragged scar around the now-closed wound in the magic barrier.

  Chapter 40

  Magicians and dragons filled Shayla’s old lair with life and energy, laughter and love. Jack watched the flames from the campfire dance around the circle of rocks. He closed his eyes in contentment.

  He stretched out his legs and shifted his back to a more comfortable position. Home at last, with a family of magicians gathered around. Katrina sat beside him on a nest of old blankets. Jaylor approached them, an odd bundle held close against his chest. Jack squeezed Katrina’s fingers in reassurance, then stood to face the Senior Magician.

  “Don’t know why we kept any of Master Baamin’s old robes.” Jaylor kept one eye on the blue-tipped male dragon who embodied all of the knowledge, wisdom, humor, and spirit of the former Senior Magician. “But it seems fitting that his master’s cloak be yours now, Yaakke.”

  Without much ceremony or ritual, the current Senior Magician handed Jack the cloak of fine blue wool with silver stars embroidered on the collar.

  “My name is Jack.” He looked around at the gathered assembly with pride and a swelling sense of family. His eyes lingered on Zolltarn and then Baamin. “Yaakke was a name chosen by a child to prove to the world that I was worth something. I don’t need that name anymore. I’m Jack, just plain Jack.”

  A ripple of nervous laughter passed through the gathering.

  “Knew you’d lose that childhood arrogance once we turned you loose.” Old Lyman, the eldest member of the Commune, slapped him on the back.

  Jack remembered hearing the old man saying that Yaakke should be locked up, for the safety of the kingdom, until he learned humility. He didn’t correct him. He didn’t need to.

  “Yaakke is a name of power, for a man destined to lead great peoples. As my grandson, you will one day lead the Rovers!” Zolltarn pronounced in a voice that echoed throughout the lair.

  “You have sons and other grandsons more deserving than I, Zolltarn. I have not been raised to Rover traditions and won’t tolerate a lot of your ways.” Jack didn’t look away from his grandfather’s piercing glare.

  “What traditions won’t you tolerate? We are an old and honorable race!”

  “I won’t steal for a living. Nor will I rove the countryside. I want a home. A wife. Children.” He glanced down at Katrina.

  She blushed but didn’t turn her head away.

  “And now that you are a full Master Magician, Jack,” Jaylor took command of the meeting again. “I have an assignment for you.”

  “If you want me to find Marcus and Robb, I’m sorry. I don’t think they can be found until both armies are pulled back from the front and fully counted, magician and mundane. There have been some pretty strange things happening out there lately.” Jack shook his head in dismay.

  “I claim that quest, Jaylor. If anyone is sent to find Marcus, its me.” The pasty seller from the coronation market jumped up from her place among the apprentices.

  Jack recognized her, even dressed in boy’s leather trews and vest. If she had any magic talent to earn her place in this gathering, she hid it very well.

  “You aren’t going anywhere, young lady, until you’ve earned journeywoman’s status.” Jaylor frowned at the girl, then turned back to Jack. “I do want to find my journeymen as soon as possible, Jack. I have sent word to the battle mages at the front to look for them. If necessary, I’ll send a journeyman in search of them. The task I have for you is closer to home and of some urgency.”

  “Tonight? Don’t I get an opportunity to get drunk and sleep off the hangover with the rest of you?” Jack cocked an eyebrow at Baamin. “Seems that even my father had one night of rebellion before he accepted the saddle of responsibility.”

  More snickers. Jaylor gathered Brevelan and the boys close to his side, clear evidence that he, too, took some time away from his responsibilities.

  “We must sing and dance to celebrate the return of my grandson!” Zolltarn looked ready to dance circles around the fire.

  (Enough, youngster,) an affronted dragon commanded. If a dragon could blush, Baamin appeared to.

  Jack drew Katrina up with him, wrapping his arm around her shoulders.

  “Tomorrow or the next day will do, Jack,” Jaylor chuckled. “Before His Grace is ready to return to the capital, we must deal with Queen Rossemikka’s pesky cat.” He winked at the queen, who looked very much at home in the rough camp. She’d made a comfortable nest for Corby out of her veil and left her hair loose around her shoulders as she dished stew from the c
ommunal cauldron.

  “I knew she had a cat hidden somewhere,” Margit muttered. “I hate cats.”

  “That’s not going to be easy, sir. I’ll need some time to study and experiment.” Jack turned his gaze away from the grumbling girl apprentice and the smiling queen. Her double aura fascinated him.

  “I can’t be away from the capital much longer, Jaylor,” Darville reminded them.

  “The spells need to be thrown here, so we can guarantee privacy. Magic is not yet legal in Coronnan,” Jaylor said. “For now, I’ll send Jack with you, disguised as Sergeant Fred’s assistant. You can all return here when you are ready, Jack. But you’ll have to shave that beard. Square cuts aren’t very popular in Coronnan City.”

  Jack fingered the growth of hair on his face. He liked the image of himself as a bearded, exotic foreigner. Katrina seemed to like touching it. Maybe he’d just trim it to a more rounded shape.

  “You can also advise me about new ambassadors to SeLenicca, Jack.” King Darville stretched and took a long sip of his ale.

  “The best way to establish peaceful relations with our neighbors is to help them rebuild,” Jack said more to Katrina than his king.

  “We will no longer be enemies?” Katrina interjected. She fingered a bright agate in the palm of her hand. Jack had placed a translation spell into the stone to help her communicate.

  “We’ll be friends, allies. Family.” Jack gazed deeply into her eyes. “We can begin breaking down the barriers right here and now. If you will be my wife, Katrina, you won’t be alone anymore.”

  “Do the dragons come with you as part of the family?” A tiny smile touched the corner of her mouth, belying the glistening of tears that glazed her eyes and the trembling of her chin.

  “Amaranth and Iianthe do.” Jack reached to pet the purple-tipped dragon heads. Neither dragonet had been out of reach since the incredible swelling and combining of three forms of magic he had experienced in the clearing this morning.

  Rufan grunted in jealous displeasure. The red-tipped dragonet butted his head between Margit and Fred into the sergeant’s lap, begging for similar pets.

  (My boys are not yet ready to leave the nest,) Shayla insisted. She stretched her wing and shoulder stiffly as if to gather her young to her side. A trail of loosened lace drifted to the ground from her hasty bandage.

  Katrina hurried to rescue the doily. Jack followed her across the cave. He couldn’t let her go without an answer.

  Brevelan and Mikka stood beside him, looking over his shoulder at the damaged wing.

  “I think we should remove the patches and work a proper healing for both Shayla and Darville,” Brevelan mused. She began working the loose edges free.

  Katrina reached to help. Her fingers seemed more concerned with preserving the lace than protecting the delicate membranes beneath.

  “Don’t bother,” Darville laughed, waving his left arm freely. “I think the patch worked a miracle on both of us.”

  “We’ll see about that, Darville.” Mikka looked closely at his arm. “The blackness is completely gone!” she gasped in amazement, then turned her attention back to the lace-covered dragon wing.

  Bit by bit the ladies handed Jack the lace. Square pieces. Round doilies. Yards of edging. Amazingly, it was all as white and pure as when it was first made. The Tambrin fibers vibrated mildly, reminding him of the power within.

  “The wing is healed!” Brevelan and Mikka gasped together.

  “Told you so,” Darville smiled. The women grabbed his arm again and compared the newly pink skin against the dragon wing. All traces of black burns were gone.

  “With our Tambootie and your lacemakers, we’ll all be rich.” Jack turned away from the healers and their patients. “Our farmers will replant the devastated trees if they can see a profit from selling the fiber to SeLenicca. The dragons will have Tambootie to eat. Coronnan will have a strong nimbus again and we’ll all have peace!”

  “And the Commune will have dragons to make magic legal and controlled again,” Jaylor added.

  “And Katrina will have the most beautiful wedding ever,” Brevelan sighed as she lifted the last piece of lace from the wing. The shawl came free in a single piece, stretched beyond its original size into a frothy veil. Carefully she settled the lace onto Katrina’s hair. “That is, if she ever gets the courage to accept Jack’s proposal.”

  “We barely know each other, Jack.” Katrina put her hand up to remove the veil.

  Jack covered her hand with his own. “I feel like I’ve known you forever, Katrina. I hope you can come to care for me, a little. Please say you’ll at least think about it.”

  “Having a lair full of dragons as part of my family will take some getting used to,” she said with a shy smile and a wink of mischief. “When I was alone and friendless, you offered me help and love without conditions. I’ll always love you for that. I think I’d like to share my life with the dragons, and you.”

  Jack gathered her into his arms.

  “Well, prove your Rover blood, boy . . . I mean Jack. Kiss her!” Zolltarn shouted with joy.

  A blush galloped from Jack’s toes to his face. He wanted desperately to kiss his love. But they were all watching.

  Shyly Katrina lifted her face. Again that glint of mischief in her eyes. “This is what having a family means. Sharing love and happiness as well as sadness. I never thought I’d have family again. Thank you for sharing yours with me,” she whispered to him.

  Accepting the inevitable, Jack lowered his mouth to her in a quick gesture of affection.

  “Put more heart into it, boy!” Zolltarn laughed.

  “Later,” Jack whispered. “When we’re alone.”

  The waning flames in the center of the lair highlighted denser sections of the lace shawl framing Katrina’s face. Jaylor reached to examine the lace more closely. A puzzled frown crossed his face as he read the runes encoded in the lace. Then he threw back his head and laughed.

  “What’s so funny about a prophecy of doom?” Jack asked.

  (The runes name Simeon’s true parentage, as the sorcerer-king feared.) Baamin peered over Jaylor’s shoulder, also reading the runes. (But they continued with the legend of Yaakke riding a dragon to the last battle that destroyed the coven of Simurgh. Tattia copied all of the runes into the shawl because she didn’t know for sure which ones went beyond the intent of her original message. Seems we fulfilled the prophecy, Jack.)

  “I brought the dragons home. Coronnan will learn that magic can be honorable and controlled. I fulfilled my quest. That is enough legend and adventure for one lifetime. Now I want only to be a Master Magician in service to my Commune and king. And a husband and father.” He smiled at Katrina, still within the circle of his arms.

  (That’s all we ever asked of you, Jack.) Baamin winked at him again.

  “Soon,” Katrina replied.

  Jack captured her fingers with his own, lacing them together. “Soon.”

  “Best if you take your vows before I send him to SeLenicca as ambassador to help rebuild your country.” Darville remarked.

  “Ambassador?” Jack choked.

  “I’m willing to bet that the power in the shawl’s runes severed the magical connection between Simeon and Shayla. He couldn’t protect himself against that last attack because he couldn’t gather any more dragon magic.” Jaylor scanned the lace once more. “If we present it to Queen Miranda, as it should have been three years ago, this shawl could sever the magic that holds her in a coma.”

  “Who better to deliver the magic than Jack?” Darville pounded him on the back with his restored left arm.

  “First he has to find a way to take care of my cat,” Mikka reminded them.

  “No problem,” Jack shrugged, never taking his eyes off of Katrina.

  “What makes you think the queen’s cat will be no problem?” Jaylor asked.

  Katrina smiled and kissed his cheek. The world brightened around him and his magic swelled in response.

  “I’ll
have to study the problem a while.” Jack continued to stare at Katrina, wondering if he dared kiss her right now, in front of the entire gathering. “I want to show Coronnan City to Katrina and rest my magic while I seek an answer. But if there is no spell in existence to solve the problem, then we’ll have to improvise.”

  (You do too much of that, boy. When will you learn proper procedures?) Baamin glared at him as he had in the old days when he was Senior Magician, training a wayward apprentice.

  “When you learn that I’m no longer a nameless boy, Father? But I won’t have to work the spell alone. I have the whole Commune—my family—to help. I’ll never have to work alone again.”

  Epilogue

  The void does not frighten me. In the black nothingness, all pain, bindings, and disguises slip away. I see my father as he truly is, still alive, still thirsting for vengeance. His vitality fades along with the backlash. The nature of the spell surrounding his physical body becomes obvious. ’Twill eventually drain the life from him.

  From the sanctuary of the void we flee to Hanassa. There we can research the backlash spell. Now that the void has revealed the secret, I can find a way to reverse the transformation. And I shall bring Lanciar to join me and my son.

  Hanassa harbors others of our kind who long for an end to Coronnan and the dragons. We must entice Darville and the Commune into coming to the secret stronghold buried in the mountains to meet their destiny.

  In the end all things come to Hanassa.

 

 

 


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