The Dragon Nimbus Novels: Volume III: Volume III

by Irene Radford

  He needed to cough and control his breathing.

  “Who are you?” She backed up, looking about for an avenue of escape, or to make certain he had brought no accomplices with him. She looked like a frightened deer he’d seen in pictures of old Terra. Another ruse.

  “I won’t hurt you, Maia. I’ve come to help. I’ll take you home if you want.” He held out a hand to her, inviting her to trust him. He used his own talent to persuade her.

  “Who are you?” she asked again. Her shoulders relaxed a little, but she did not take his hand.

  Kinnsell tried a light mind probe. She was as well armored as the bushie lord. No wonder she didn’t fall for her own tricks used against her.

  “I am an emissary from the Stargods come to rescue you.” He swallowed the lie as easily as every other lie he told in and out of church.

  * * * Before dawn, tower room reserved for Master Magicians, University of Magicians, Coronnan City

  Bessel clutched the wet dog against his chest, almost as a talisman. Nimbulan led the way down the three flights of stairs to the University courtyard.

  “What’s going to happen to me now, Master Nimbulan?” he asked as the other master magicians angled off toward the library.

  “Nothing, I hope,” Nimbulan replied, proceeding into the open air. He headed across the circle of the courtyard. His long stride seemed shorter than usual and his feet dragged a little. Was that a trace of puffiness in his fingers?

  Bessel had known the former magician for most of his life. They had survived together through years of hard living during the Great Wars of Disruption. Huge armies had protected them then, but only because Nimbulan had been the strongest, most cunning Battlemage of his generation. The tremendous effort of working great battle magic had depleted his energies and life force time and again.

  He deserved his retirement. But could Coronnan afford to let him retire as long as Scarface ran the Commune?

  A few clouds scudded away in the brisk wind. No other traces of the storm lingered.

  The dog licked his face and squirmed to be let down. Bessel placed him on the damp stones reluctantly. Already he missed the reassuring warmth of the dog.

  “Master Scarface entrusted me to you until the matter is settled,” Bessel reminded the older man. He petted the dog, trying to postpone separation as well as decision.

  “Then you will continue your studies from my home rather than here at the University. We have plenty of room in that great barn of a house Myri inherited from the dragons, especially now that Powwell is gone.” Nimbulan paused to stare at the mongrel. He wrinkled his nose at the smell of wet dog. “I hope you aren’t planning to bring that with you.” He pointed accusingly at the dog.

  “I don’t know. It followed me when we left the docks.” Bessel stooped to continue caressing the dog. In a way it seemed they belonged together. The bedraggled mutt looked up at him adoringly and licked his hand.

  “Myri won’t let it in her house until it has had a bath. I’m not sure I want the thing around. I’ve never had a use for familiars. My staff was always enough. . . .” He looked up at the sky and gulped back his emotions.

  “My familiar.” Suddenly Bessel knew that by announcing the bond between himself and the dog he had completed the process of adoption. They belonged together like the family he’d never truly had. Even the Commune had not offered him the trust and companionship this scruffy mutt did.

  Bessel looked at the dog in a new light. “I wonder why it waited until now to adopt me? Not many magicians have familiars anymore.” Perhaps the dog had sensed his magic only when he tapped the ley line. Perhaps the relationship of magician and familiar depended upon rogue magic.

  “That’s a question we can puzzle out later, along with other matters. Gather your things and meet me at the house in the morning, after you’ve cleaned up yourself and the dog. I wonder if the dragons have replaced familiars . . . ?” Nimbulan turned and wandered off into the city. He kept his left hand up, palm out while he pondered whatever great thoughts filled his head.

  No matter how depleted Nimbulan’s body, his mind obviously continued as bright and active as ever.

  “Come on, dog. Do you have a name? I can’t keep calling you dog.” Bessel beckoned the animal to follow him.

  Mopplewogger. The word came clearly into Bessel’s head.

  “That is a bizarre name. Mopplewogger. I wonder what it means.”

  Pictures of a long-legged and sleek water dog standing in the prow of a fishing boat filled his vision.

  “Sorry, dog. You don’t quite fit the picture.”

  The dog sat abruptly with a depressed look, if a face truly existed beneath the tangled ropes of muddy curls.

  The mind picture the dog sent Bessel abruptly switched to show an even larger dog jumping from the boat to assist a fisherman battling a bemouth, one of the voracious giants that inhabited the outer depths of the Bay.

  “If you say so, Mopplewogger,” he chuckled. “That’s how you see yourself. Maybe you are as brave and loyal as those dogs even though you’re less than half the size and all that wet fur would weigh you down in the water. C’mon, we both need a bath, some sleep, and something to eat before we present ourselves to Master Nimbulan and Ambassador Myrilandel. She talks to dragons. Maybe she can answer some questions for me.”

  Chapter 21

  Before dawn, neighborhood temple near the University of Magicians, Coronnan City

  “Home? You’ll take me back to Televarn?” Maia bounced into Kinnsell’s arms.

  “Whatever you wish, my dear.” Whoever Televarn is, he’s a lucky man. He held the young woman close against his chest a moment, breathing in her delicious feminine scent. He hadn’t been with a woman for quite a while. Surely his current wife would forgive him one lapse considering the wealth and prestige he would take home to Terra. It was not as if he were replacing his wife with a younger woman with a bigger dowry and better political connections.

  He’d done that three times before and was tired of the game. His current wife suited him fine. She’d make an elegant empress.

  Then the significance of the name Maia had given her man at home hit him between the eyes. Televarn: one who speaks to Varns. He’d run into a swarthy man of that name once on a mission to Kardia Hodos about a decade ago. The man was incapable of telling the truth, would betray anyone for the right coins, and drove a hard bargain, harder than any other trader Kinnsell had come across anywhere in the galaxy. He was also one of the most beautiful men Kinnsell had ever seen. No wonder Maia wanted to return to him.

  Kinnsell certainly wouldn’t take this delicious woman anywhere near Televarn until he’d finished with her.

  “Do you have possessions you must gather? We must leave immediately.” He’d take her to his ship, just outside the city. They’d have privacy for a while and then he’d move the little shuttle to make her think they traveled where she wished. But he’d take her only as far as the home of the bushie lord who bargained almost as fiercely as Televarn had.

  “Possessions?” Maia laughed. She shook her head, setting the hoop earrings to bouncing. Her breasts strained against her black bodice.

  Kinnsell wanted to rip the restrictive cloth away and free those full, ripe breasts. They’d fill his hands nicely.

  He clenched his hands into fists and kept them firmly at his sides. She must have strong psi powers to go along with her allure. He swore to himself not to fall victim to her. He’d use her the way she wanted to use him.

  “I am a Rover,” Maia announced proudly. “Rovers wear their wealth. There is nothing more valuable than my freedom. Ah, to wander the roads of the world again. Televarn will wish to rove again after so many years in Hanassa. He was never truly meant to remain in the city of outlaws as their Kaaliph. I will remind him of the wonders of the road.” She closed her eyes and smiled dreamily.

  “Then we will leave now.” Kinnsell grabbed Maia’s hand, caressing her palm with his thumb. He drew her fingers to his lips, dr
inking in the lush smell and taste of her, telling himself that this was what she expected, so why not enjoy flirting with her. His breathing went ragged again, and he coughed to steady it.

  Finally, he set his left hand to the back of her waist while keeping her hand bound in his right and headed out of the church.

  “We can’t go that way.” Maia held back. She tugged his hand rather than releasing it. “They watch me. We must use a different door. And then find a place to hide until sunset tomorrow. The dawn comes, and with the light their power increases.” Her eyes went wide with fear.

  “Who prevents you from leaving a church?”

  “The magicians. They watch every move I make while they claim to protect me from my own people. They invade my privacy worse than Televarn ever did with his mind in my mind all of the time. The magicians hate women and will kill me if they catch me outside the sanctuary of this building.” She hissed as if her words, like the magicians, were tainted with venom.

  “Is there another way out of here?” Kinnsell didn’t trust his psychic shields to hide them from a truly powerful magician. He should have noticed a spy with psi powers lingering around the outside of the church. He’d have to learn the trick of extending mental invisibility to another person, something the magicians used all the time in protecting their king—the compromising weakling Katie had married.

  “Of course there is another way out. The priests and magicians think it secret, but I found it.” She seemed to include priests within the same category as magicians, both menacing and dirty.

  “Then why haven’t you left before this? You have friends and allies waiting for you.”

  “Getting out of this sanctuary is one thing. Staying hidden while I escape the city is another. But you will protect me.” She caressed his cheek and pursed her lips as if expecting to be kissed.

  Kinnsell leaned closer, more than willing to oblige. She smiled so very sweet, promised so much. . . .

  He shook himself free of her spell.

  “We must be quiet.” Maia pressed a finger to her full lips. Her eyes sparkled with mischief. “The priest consoles the cook from the University. She comes here often, supposedly to check on me, but mostly to confess to the very handsome priest. I would confess to him, too, but he prefers his women fair and docile. We can learn something the magicians do not wish the world to know.” She tiptoed toward the altar and a small postern door.

  “Eavesdrop on a confession?” Kinnsell gulped back his sudden apprehension. He had to keep reminding himself these people didn’t believe in the faith that had sustained his family for more generations than anyone could count.

  “Knowledge is power, and power is more valuable than any wealth,” Maia reminded him.

  “That is a concept I can appreciate.” A concept his sons could never comprehend. He’d hoped that Katie had learned it. But she, too, had opted to hide on this bush world rather than seek political power. True power.

  Thankfully, his current wife understood. She’d forgive his lapse in fidelity for the sake of knowledge and power.

  Together, he and Maia moved toward the altar. A large tapestry showing the three Stargod brothers descending to Kardia Hodos upon a silver flame covered the area immediately behind the slab of blue marble. The cold flames in the woven picture looked amazingly like an antique space shuttle. The murmur of quiet voices filtered through the beautiful needlework. Kinnsell looked closer and realized the tapestry separated the main worship area from another room.

  The feminine voice became tearful. The masculine voice whispered soothing comfort.

  Kinnsell and Maia listened closer.

  “Scarface threw me out! I’m not to return to his island again. Not even to visit my husband,” the woman wailed.

  “He must have had a reason. Have you been remiss in your duties as cook?” The priest kept his voice neutral.

  “I provide amply for my boys at the University. I feed the Masters even better, but does he appreciate my efforts, my talents? No. He says that women distract his magicians from their true calling. He says that women represent the old magic and that all traces of it must be eradicated. He told me to be gone before dawn.”

  “That is a serious change from what I was taught in my early training as a magician, before I opted for the priesthood.”

  Kinnsell remembered that all the priests and healers in this world must first be magicians. Their first loyalty would always be to the Commune. The woman Guillia might have made a mistake taking her problem to a priest.

  “I am not to return to the island again, not even to retrieve my belongings or kiss my husband good-bye. I have lived there three years. It is my home! And my mundane children must leave, too. Nimbulan promised them an education. They can’t learn to read and cipher anywhere but at the University. What is to become of us? We have no place to go!”

  “Guillia, only magicians may learn to read. That is the law of the Stargods. Scarface is correct in removing your sons from the school. But surely your husband will support you? He can buy you and the children a house on another island. He can live there and work at the University.”

  “You don’t know Stuuvart very well.” The woman snorted in disgust. “He’s more interested in counting his crates and barrels in the storeroom than in the welfare of his family.”

  Kinnsell had heard enough. The Senior Magician sought to consolidate his power by evicting all the women from the University, in the name of removing all traces of the old magic—whatever that was. He’d condemned a journeyman magician for using that old magic in an effort to save a drowning man. What would be his next step in controlling everything in this miserable country?

  The library. The storehouse of all knowledge accumulated since the Stargods had left the family book collection here seven hundred years ago. Over half of it was locked away already. How long before its existence—even protected by iron bars and telekinetic locks—proved too dangerous and Scarface destroyed the wonderful treasure trove of books?

  Kinnsell had to go back and save all of those wonderful books. His books! But he had to get Maia away from here in order to win the support of the lords. How much time did he have?

  Near dawn the morning after the dark of the moon, the pit beneath the city of Hanassa

  “The spirit of Hanassa used my mother’s body!” Yaala exclaimed. That explained why Yaassima had executed her consort for no reason and exiled her own daughter—her only child and heir. Hanassa controlled the city and thirsted only for blood and more blood. Hanassa didn’t need an heir, he would simply invade the next convenient body.

  Did the spirit displaced by Hanassa become the next wraith that haunted the pit?

  Relief made Yaala’s knees tremble and her head light. She need not fear falling into the pattern of her mother’s ruthlessness because the Yaassima she knew hadn’t been her mother.

  “But the wraith was here in the pit before Yaassima died, Yaala,” Powwell argued.

  “The wraith we knew was my mother’s spirit. And now it is someone else’s.” Yaala glared at Powwell as if begging him not to shatter her brief moment of looking toward her future with something akin to confidence and hope.

  “Who is the wraith now? We have to know who, so we can deal with Hanassa in that person’s body,” Rollett reminded them. “Neither the wraith nor Piedro is going to allow us to just walk out of Hanassa.”

  Powwell’s face looked bland and empty. Thorny retreated deep into his pocket. Both sure signs that he knew more than he told. Yaala knew from experience he wouldn’t tell until he was ready.

  “This is all very interesting. But I need food and sleep before I can think any further.” Rollett yawned.

  Yaala heard his jaw crack as he repeated the yawn and scrunched up his eyes. He opened them again reluctantly.

  Suddenly he looked vulnerable and young. The last year in Hanassa had aged him beyond his twenty or so years. At first glance, she had thought him closer to thirty. But he couldn’t be that old and still a journeyma
n. Young men either progressed to master or left the University while still quite young.

  “Take what you need from the living cavern. There are pallets there, too. Don’t forget to drink,” Yaala reminded Rollett. She fell back into the attitude of authority. For years, the denizens of the pit had obeyed her without question. Her mother’s guards had respected her and feared the accidents she arranged for those who defied her. Yaala pushed aside the notion that she could be as ruthless as the late Kaalipha of Hanassa.

  “I need you healthy and strong when we go above,” she added to her orders to Rollett. Once we have deposed Piedro, I’ll do all I can to help you return to Coronnan. Hanassa needs Coronnan’s strength and resources to become truly independent again.”

  “Do what you can to fix those blasted machines, Yaala,” Rollett said over his shoulder as he stumbled toward the large living cavern. “I think I know how to make use of them. I’ll need your machines to end the tyranny of Piedro and the consort. They probably sabotaged the tunnel every time we came close to the exit.”

  “Yes.” Warmth began to glow in the pit of Yaala’s stomach. With the machines operating again, she could do anything. She could resume control of her life as long as she had the machines.

  She turned to speak to Powwell. Her words died in her open mouth as the wraith flew into the cavern, circling them again and again.

  I want my body back. I want it back now! He can’t have it. It’s mine! The wraith’s hysterical gibbering invaded Yaala’s mind, driving out all coherent thought.

  Chapter 22

  Neighborhood temple near Palace Reveta Tristile, Coronnan City

  True to her word, Maia led Kinnsell to a small ventilation grate in an outside wall of the church. She tugged on the metal bars. They came loose with little effort.

  Kinnsell saw places where the hinges had been scraped clean of rust. She must have been planning her escape for some time.