The Wandering Dragon (Children of the Dragon Nimbus) by Irene Radford Page B
Authors: Irene Radford
Ads: Link
her finger, wavering in and out like waves lapping the shore of glass. “Master Marcus.”
Slowly a delicate orange infiltrated the border of color, blending with it, swirling around and around, brightening as the connection grew.
Souska’s thoughts circled and circled. Nothing existed but those colors, merging in a friendly dance.
A sharp jab of Maigret’s elbow into her belly forced Souska to blink and revive. “You can’t afford to lose yourself in the spell,” she whispered.
Souska withdrew her mind a bit. Then Marcus’ weary face bloomed into the glass.
“What now?” he asked anxiously, blinking rapidly as if banishing sleep. From the lines on his face, that must be a rare commodity of late.
“Souska has had a report from Lukan,” Maigret said without preamble. She didn’t need to introduce herself. Marcus would know who summoned him by the colors in his own vibrating glass.
“Souska? Who is Souska and why would Lukan summon her?” he asked sharply.
“Lukan has been mentoring and teaching my apprentice from afar,” Maigret said. Her jaw worked, as if she wanted to be angry with the Chancellor of the Universities and Senior Magician to the king.
“What is Lukan’s message? An illogical means of getting around the prohibition of calling home except in cases of dire emergency or peril to the kingdom.” Marcus leaned his head heavily on his hand and closed his eyes.
“This might very well imperil the kingdom.”
Marcus roused himself from his doze. “Tell me exactly what the boy said.”
Maigret nodded for Souska to supply the answer.
“Lukan said ‘Tell Marcus that Rejiia is in the city.’” She had to think a moment to remember his exact words. So much was foggy from the last message. Had she lost something important in her memory lapse?
“Rejiia, eh? She is not enough of a threat to warrant breaking the rules. She has done nothing, thrown no magic, or recruited new members to her coven.”
That sounded familiar. Had Lukan said anything about the coven?
“Tell me this again when every magician in the city and half those in the mountains isn’t worn to the bone working from dawn to sunset clearing debris, salvaging building materials, rebuilding, replanting, trying to find enough food and clean water to continue one more day.” He held a hand over his scrying bowl and clamped his fingers shut, ending the spell.
But just as his last finger bent, another color shot into Maigret’s bowl. A disembodied voice shouted, “Help me!”
“Robb?” Maigret gasped, and fell to the floor in a dead faint.
CHAPTER 10
“R OBB!” MAIGRET’S VOICE came through the glass in fading echoes.
“My love,” he gasped. He didn’t have much time. If Lokeen found out he still had his glass, there would be hell to pay. The spell dissipated back into the water quickly. “I’m a prisoner in Amazonia!” he called back to his wife as loudly as he dared. But the colors and life had faded from the spell before he finished speaking. He had no way of knowing if she heard him or not.
Suddenly Maria flung open the door so hard it bounced against the wall and would have slammed into her face if a tall guard had not held it back.
“What is the meaning of this? Who is it that you call your love?” Anger infused her face with high color bordering on purple. She panted with rapid, shallow breaths and swayed on her feet.
Robb clenched his fist over the water bowl and fished out the glass in one swift movement.
A large hand clamped over his wrist before he could pocket the circle of glass. The nameless guard pried the tool loose from his fingers and passed it to Maria. He juggled it briefly as the golden rim, still ripe with the scrying spell, burned his fingers. Maria finally took it from him with a corner of her apron. The guard blew on his hands, trying to soothe the magical wound.
Robb did not feel inclined to pull the spell back into him. Serve his captors right if a little ungrounded magic went
Slowly a delicate orange infiltrated the border of color, blending with it, swirling around and around, brightening as the connection grew.
Souska’s thoughts circled and circled. Nothing existed but those colors, merging in a friendly dance.
A sharp jab of Maigret’s elbow into her belly forced Souska to blink and revive. “You can’t afford to lose yourself in the spell,” she whispered.
Souska withdrew her mind a bit. Then Marcus’ weary face bloomed into the glass.
“What now?” he asked anxiously, blinking rapidly as if banishing sleep. From the lines on his face, that must be a rare commodity of late.
“Souska has had a report from Lukan,” Maigret said without preamble. She didn’t need to introduce herself. Marcus would know who summoned him by the colors in his own vibrating glass.
“Souska? Who is Souska and why would Lukan summon her?” he asked sharply.
“Lukan has been mentoring and teaching my apprentice from afar,” Maigret said. Her jaw worked, as if she wanted to be angry with the Chancellor of the Universities and Senior Magician to the king.
“What is Lukan’s message? An illogical means of getting around the prohibition of calling home except in cases of dire emergency or peril to the kingdom.” Marcus leaned his head heavily on his hand and closed his eyes.
“This might very well imperil the kingdom.”
Marcus roused himself from his doze. “Tell me exactly what the boy said.”
Maigret nodded for Souska to supply the answer.
“Lukan said ‘Tell Marcus that Rejiia is in the city.’” She had to think a moment to remember his exact words. So much was foggy from the last message. Had she lost something important in her memory lapse?
“Rejiia, eh? She is not enough of a threat to warrant breaking the rules. She has done nothing, thrown no magic, or recruited new members to her coven.”
That sounded familiar. Had Lukan said anything about the coven?
“Tell me this again when every magician in the city and half those in the mountains isn’t worn to the bone working from dawn to sunset clearing debris, salvaging building materials, rebuilding, replanting, trying to find enough food and clean water to continue one more day.” He held a hand over his scrying bowl and clamped his fingers shut, ending the spell.
But just as his last finger bent, another color shot into Maigret’s bowl. A disembodied voice shouted, “Help me!”
“Robb?” Maigret gasped, and fell to the floor in a dead faint.
CHAPTER 10
“R OBB!” MAIGRET’S VOICE came through the glass in fading echoes.
“My love,” he gasped. He didn’t have much time. If Lokeen found out he still had his glass, there would be hell to pay. The spell dissipated back into the water quickly. “I’m a prisoner in Amazonia!” he called back to his wife as loudly as he dared. But the colors and life had faded from the spell before he finished speaking. He had no way of knowing if she heard him or not.
Suddenly Maria flung open the door so hard it bounced against the wall and would have slammed into her face if a tall guard had not held it back.
“What is the meaning of this? Who is it that you call your love?” Anger infused her face with high color bordering on purple. She panted with rapid, shallow breaths and swayed on her feet.
Robb clenched his fist over the water bowl and fished out the glass in one swift movement.
A large hand clamped over his wrist before he could pocket the circle of glass. The nameless guard pried the tool loose from his fingers and passed it to Maria. He juggled it briefly as the golden rim, still ripe with the scrying spell, burned his fingers. Maria finally took it from him with a corner of her apron. The guard blew on his hands, trying to soothe the magical wound.
Robb did not feel inclined to pull the spell back into him. Serve his captors right if a little ungrounded magic went
Similar Books
