The Dragon Nimbus Novels: Volume III: Volume III

whitely from temple to temple across the bridge of his nose; a sure sign of deep concentration or distress. He kept his eyes half closed as if in great pain.
    If I had a place to hide where HE couldn’t find me, I think I would, Bessel sent to Powwell on a tight telepathic signal so that none of the magicians in the room could overhear—especially Scarface.
    So would we. I wonder who is going to end up with kitchen duty for two moons when this is done? Powwell returned on an equally tight line. His eyes looked more haunted than usual and his hollow cheeks seemed almost gaunt with strain. He carried his hedgehog familiar in his hand rather than hidden in his pocket, a sure sign of disquiet. Since having to leave his sister Kalen behind in Hanassa last year, the familiar seemed the only being capable of giving Powwell comfort. Even his friendship with Yaala sometimes failed to help him.
    Bessel understood Powwell’s sense of emptiness at the loss of his only family.
    Kitchen duty is preferable to being thrown out of here with no place to go and no other magician allowed to take us in, Bessel returned, praying that he would not become the victim of Scarface’s wrath. Two senior apprentices had lost their place in the University of Magicians last moon for seemingly minor infractions. They’d been with the University almost as long as Bessel, having started under Nimbulan’s tutelage.
    Where is Yaala? he asked, noting the absence of Powwell’s dear friend, the exiled Princess of Hanassa. She should be sitting next to Queen Maarie Kaathliin. The royal couple had practically adopted Yaala as a foster sister and kept her close to them on all official occasions.
    Powwell shrugged as if he did not know, but he clenched his fist around his hedgehog familiar, allowing the sharp quills to prick his skin until a drop of bright blood seeped through his fingers.
    Who are they waiting on? Bessel tried a different line of questioning. He counted heads.
    “Excuse my tardiness. I was detained with important communications,” King Kinnsell, the queen’s father, said. He stood squarely in the doorway, waiting for acknowledgment from every person in the room.
    That didn’t take long. The leader from the mysterious land of Terrania dominated any room he graced with his presence. His aura shimmered in tightly controlled layers of color that mimicked a rainbow. No one had that bright array in precisely measured sections. Not normally. Kinnsell used his aura to project authority when realistically he had none. Even the bright sunlight seemed to concentrate on him, making his expensive golden brocade tunic glow.
    What is he doing here? Bessel asked Powwell.
    The younger magician shrugged again.
    Kinnsell moved around the huge table to stand between King Quinnault and Scarface. His posture radiated confidence and authority. He held his right hand beside him as if he curved his fingers over the knob of a short walking stick. As he gazed about the room and nodded to several individuals, he brought his hand back slightly, adjusting the angle of the imaginary stick.
    Bessel shook his head at the curious gesture. He was used to watching magicians for a signature gesture to indicate deep thought or information gathering. This hand position was new to him.
    Scarface stooped to whisper something to King Quinnault. He had to lean awkwardly around King Kinnsell to do so. The Senior Magician’s scowl deepened.
    “Now that everyone is gathered, I have unsettling news to relate,” King Quinnault announced from his demi-throne.
    Queen Maarie Kaathliin touched her husband’s hand in silent reminder of something. They both searched the room with their eyes, finally resting their gazes on Nimbulan and Myrilandel.
    “Where is Yaala?” Quinnault asked. “She is part of this.”
    “I dismissed the woman,” Scarface said succinctly. “Her information is secondhand and therefore invalid. And so is Ambassador Myrilandel’s.”
    “My sister is ambassador for the dragons. Her presence is required!” Quinnault replied angrily.
    Both Myrilandel and Nimbulan remianed quiet, eyes averted from the lords and magicians who stared at her. Perhaps they did not see Quinnault’s gesture to make a place for them at his side.
    The queen opened her mouth to speak. Before she could utter a sound, King Kinnsell spoke again. “We have enough witnesses to proceed.” He smiled and wiggled his fingers as if tapping the imaginary stick.
    Who was running this