Table of Contents
Title Page
Copyright Page
Introduction
THE RENEGADE DRAGON
Prologue
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Chapter 29
Chapter 30
Chapter 31
Chapter 32
Chapter 33
Chapter 34
Chapter 35
Chapter 36
Chapter 37
Chapter 38
Chapter 39
Chapter 40
Chapter 41
Chapter 42
Chapter 43
Chapter 44
Chapter 45
Chapter 46
Chapter 47
Chapter 48
Chapter 49
Epilogue
THE WIZARD’S TREASURE
Prologue
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Chapter 29
Chapter 30
Chapter 31
Chapter 32
Chapter 33
Chapter 34
Chapter 35
Chapter 36
Chapter 37
Chapter 38
Chapter 39
Chapter 40
Chapter 41
Chapter 42
Chapter 43
Chapter 44
Chapter 45
Praise for Irene Radford’s Dragon novels:
“The Wizard’s Treasure, the fourth and final volume in Radford’s high fantasy ‘Dragon Nimbus’ series brings together characters from previous novels in a rousing adventure of magic and treachery.”—Library Journal
“Ms. Radford’s considerable gifts as a mesmerizing story-teller shine with undeniable luster.”—Romantic Times
“Plenty of popular elements: an intelligent cat, an en-chanted wolf, a redheaded witch, a missing prince, the apprentice mage with misunderstood powers, and, of course, dragons.”
—Locus
“A big, adventurous, satisfying climax to the trilogy by one of the more interesting new voices working with the traditional quest story.”—Science Fiction Chronicle
“This action-packed plot makes for engaged and thoughtful reading. The author manages to keep the story clear, and the characters interesting to follow. Several themes interplay successfully, with the reader caring what happens. Not surprisingly, the volume resolves one conflict, but keeps the door open for continuing obstacles. This reader, for one, is eager.”—KLIATT
The Dragon Nimbus Novels Volume III
Also by Irene Radford
The Dragon Nimbus
THE GLASS DRAGON
THE PERFECT PRINCESS
THE LONELIEST MAGICIAN
The Dragon Nimbus History
THE DRAGON’S TOUCHSTONE
THE LAST BATTLEMAGE
THE RENEGADE DRAGON
THE WIZARD’S TREASURE
The Star Gods
THE HIDDEN DRAGON
THE DRAGON CIRCLE
THE DRAGON’S REVENGE
Merlin’s Descendants
GUARDIAN OF THE BALANCE
GUARDIAN OF THE TRUST
GUARDIAN OF THE VISION
GUARDIAN OF THE PROMISE
GUARDIAN OF THE FREEDOM
THE RENEGADE DRAGON
Copyright © 1999 by Phyllis Irene Radford Karr
THE WIZARD’S TREASURE
Copyright © 2000 by Phyllis Irene Radford Karr
THE DRAGON NIMBUS NOVELS VOLUME III
Copyright © 2008 by Phyllis Irene Radford
All Rights Reserved.
Interior map by Michael Gilbert.
DAW Book Collectors No. 1428.
DAW Books are distributed by Penguin Group (USA) Inc.
All characters and events in this book are fictitious.
Any resemblance to persons living or dead is coincidental.
First Paperback Printing, January 2008
DAW TRADEMARK REGISTERED
U.S. PAT. AND TM. OFF. AND FOREIGN COUNTRIES
—MARCA REGISTRADA
HECHO EN U.S.A.
S. A.
eISBN : 978-1-101-03394-4
http://us.penguingroup.com
Introduction
Welcome to a world where dragons are real and magic works. If you are new to the Dragon Nimbus, pull up a chair and join us as we revel in tales that have touched my heart more than anything else I’ve written under any pen name. If you are returning after an absence, I am very happy to have you back.
This is a world that began with a Christmas gift of a blown glass dragon. The dragon sat proudly on the knickknack shelf for several months, loved and admired, reluctantly dusted, and totally inert. Then one night at dinner my son remarked, “You know, Mom, I think dragons are born all dark, like that little pewter dragon, then they get more silvery as they grow up until they are as clear as glass.” The dragon came to life for me.
Out of that chance remark came first one book, then three, five, seven, and finally ten. I built a career on these books and loved every minute of the process. These characters still live in my mind many years after they jumped into their stories and dragged me along with them.
Many thanks to DAW Books and my editor Sheila Gilbert for reviving The Dragon Nimbus a lucky thirteen years after they first debuted.
With these omnibus volumes, you can read about the dragons with crystal fur that directs your eye elsewhere yet defies you to look anywhere else. Wonderful dragons full of wit and wisdom. Magic abounds. Magicians and mundanes alike learn about their world and special life lessons as they explore dragon lore past and present. The books will be presented in the order in which they were written, and the order that makes the most sense of the entwined tales.
So, sit back and enjoy with me.
And may reading take you soaring with Dragons.
Irene Radford
Welches, OR
THE RENEGADE DRAGON
This book is dedicated to the memory of Cindy Carver,
Susan Holzworth, Jo Clayton, and Barbara Martin,
dear friends who departed this plane of existence too
early but left me with a wonderful legacy. Thanks to
them I have learned to have faith in myself. Now I just
hope I can live up to their expectations.
/>
Prologue
Midmorning of Saawheen, the Holy Day of Remembrance, in late autumn of the second year of the Reign of Quinnault Darville de Draconis, Dragon Blessed King of Coronnan; a meadow west of Coronnan City
Shayla stretched her wings wide, catching a shift in air currents as she cruised the length of the waterway humans call the River Coronnan. Her twelve dragonets had just eaten a bemouth, one of the ferocious fish that inhabited the depths of the Great Bay. Even though her babies drowsed with full tummies, she knew they’d awaken again soon, clamoring for more fresh meat to feed their growing bodies. In the meantime, she took this rare free time to enjoy a few moments of peace and freedom, allowing the air currents to guide her constant search for food.
She scanned the ground for likely game. All of the cows and sheep the humans had set out as a tithe for the dragons looked too scrawny to feed her hungry babies.
The nimbus of dragons had agreed among themselves to allow the herds to increase before culling. Generations of war and privation had taken a toll on both dragons and humans. They would all thrive better if the dragons hunted wild game for a few more years.
Shayla, oh, Shayla, I need your help. A human mind called to the dragon. Shayla, hurry. I need you.
Shayla listened closely to the summons. The plea of a woman with a deep problem. A problem dragons couldn’t ignore.
She knew the mind calling her away from her leisurely glide around the Great Bay. The female named Maarie Kaathliin, called Katie by those close to her, had mated with dragon-blessed King Quinnault at the same time Shayla had flown a nuptial ritual with five male dragons. Queen Katie had proved to be a formidable woman nearly worthy of leading a dragon nimbus.
(How may I assist?) Shayla banked her wings and circled until she located Katie. The queen stood at the edge of a large field, cradling her baby in her arms. Shayla recognized the other humans who rested nearby after a meal. She grabbed the meaning of their word “picnic” from the mind of King Quinnault. She still didn’t understand the difference between eating in the lair or eating in the field. Dragons did both and had no word to separate the two.
She narrowed her telepathic communication so that only the queen could hear her. King Quinnault and his sister Myrilandel were openly receptive to dragon thoughts. Powwell, the fledgling magician who played with Myrilandel’s daughter, could hear less. Yaala, a descendant of the renegade dragon—who shall forever more remain nameless—could hear all too much if she opened her mind to her heritage.
Shayla grieved a moment that Nimbulan, Myrilandel’s husband, had lost his magic and thus his ability to communicate with dragons. The loss of that magic had aged and saddened him greatly this past year. She had enjoyed his logic and humor—which often mimicked wisdom.
Shayla, I have explained and pleaded with these people for many moons. They refuse to recognize a danger that threatens us all. Can you give them a dragon dream of great import? Katie asked.
(Dragon dreams are dangerous, to yourself and those you hold dear.) Shayla backwinged, puzzled by the request.
I know that, Shayla. I do not ask for a dream that will lead them astray, only teach them a valuable lesson.
(Such as?)
Take a memory from me and make it real to those around me.
Shayla saw the terrible images within Katie’s mind and nearly fled to the void between the planes of existence. (Why do you wish to share this memory? You should flee it as you fled your homeworld.)
The same danger I fled is on its way to this planet unless we stop it now. We must not destroy this world called Kardia Hodos as my people destroyed Terra.
(Agreed.) Shayla fought her own reluctance to relive the memory in vision form. This was a lesson the foolish humans must learn—now, before they made grave mistakes.
(The dragon spirit within Myrilandel makes her immune to dragon dreams,) Shayla stalled. (She is influential among many of those you must reach with this lesson. The woman-child, Yaala, needs to live this vision more than most, but her dragon ancestry will make her immune as well. She lives apart from their society and does not know how to value the nimbus of humans.)
Myri can pluck the memory of this dragon dream from Nimbulan’s mind, Katie replied. Her thoughts bordered on frantic. Powwell, the journeyman magician, will share his knowledge with Yaala, as he shares everything with her. They are friends despite her separateness from others. If Nimbulan, Quinnault, and the journeyman magician experience what terrorizes my people, they will act upon it.
(For a dragon dream this troubling, I must land.) Shayla worried gravely for the future of her humans should this dragon dream come to pass on Kardia Hodos. She positioned herself so that sunlight arced rainbows through her all color/no color wings as she circled and landed.
The dragonets would nap a while longer. And if they woke, hungry and screaming for more food, they would have to wait. This dragon dream needed to be imparted soon, or it would be too late.
The other humans jumped up, pointing toward her. Joy filled them as they rushed to greet the dragon. Amaranth, Myrilandel’s daughter, clapped her hands and crawled toward the pretty display of colored light refracting through the dragon’s wings.
“Shayla, I would like to introduce you to Marilell, my daughter.” King Quinnault bowed deeply, gesturing to the infant in Katie’s arms. “Katie and I ask your dragon blessing on our firstborn.” He draped an arm around his mate and female child, pulling them close to his side. With his free hand he caressed Shayla’s muzzle.
The dragon allowed her eyelids to droop as she leaned into the king’s caress. She savored his affection, knowing how the dragon dream she was about to give him might frighten him into ending all further communication with dragons.
Myrilandel lifted Amaranth onto Shayla’s outstretched forearm. The physical resemblance between Myrilandel and Quinnault had grown stronger since Shayla’s daughter had borne a child and forgotten her need to fly with dragons; her silvery-blond hair had become more golden and her long, sharp facial features had softened with maturity and pregnancy. But Shayla knew that the spirit of a purple-tipped dragon still resided in the body of the king’s sister. A spirit that would always demand release. She had survived one such near transformation due only to the love of her mate.
Yaala, too, could experience the need to become a purple-tipped dragon, though a dozen and more generations separated her from her heritage. Was that why the young woman stood back, refusing to approach another dragon?
Shayla peered at the infant Queen Katie held. The new mother bit her lip a little.
“You’ll get used to dragons, dear. Their size is intimidating, but their hearts are pure,” Quinnault chuckled.
(My daughter calls you friend. The king my nimbus has adopted as one of our own calls you lover. You may trust me with your daughter,) Shayla reassured the queen.
The fledgling magician edged closer. Shayla sensed the man-boy drinking in the magical energy she emitted. She needed him closer yet.
Yaala lingered by the distant tree. So be it. She would not live the vision of a dragon dream whether she stood close or far.
(The child Marilell is worthy of her parents. She will make a strong leader of your nimbus,) Shayla announced to all who could hear her. She kept an eye on Powwell, willing him to draw closer while she chatted with Quinnault and Katie.
Quinnault raised an eyebrow at that suggestion. So did Nimbulan after the dragon message was passed on to him verbally. Shayla allowed herself a moment of humor. One day, humans would learn that females could govern unruly males quite well.
Al last Powwell stepped within a dozen talon lengths of the others. Close enough.
Once more Shayla dipped into Katie’s mind and wrested the awful memory from her.
Immediately the humans plunged into another world. A stifling world of stale air tainted by artificial materials and chemicals. A filthy haze kept them from seeing the sky. Some kind of unnatural barrier stood between them and the haze. But the barrier
trapped clean air, made it stale despite mechanical beasts that scrubbed it and stirred it in imitation of the wind.
More mechanical beasts grunted and whined in a wild cacophony of sound. Humans walked around cautiously, eyes searching every corner for danger. They wore strange clothing, like artificial skin in muddy colors that flattered nothing and highlighted many unattractive features. Across their muzzles they had draped coverings in the same vague colors as their clothing. Each step was listless, hesitant. They kept their arms close to their bodies rather than swinging them freely in confident strides. As they approached buildings or other people, they shied away from the briefest physical contact.
The observers from Coronnan shifted their startled gazes from the drab people to the dazzling buildings made of metal and glass. So much precious glass! Each window represented a Coronnite lord’s entire fortune. While the wonder slowly abated, the watchers all wrinkled their noses at the strange-smelling air. They stared at the frightened inhabitants in bewilderment.
An old woman walked a slow, unsteady path between the wondrous buildings. Her wrinkled skin looked waxy and pale with more ailments than just advanced age. She stopped often, swaying with weakness and indecision. Her swollen hands and feet made her progress awkward. A large man with some vivacity still in his step veered sharply to avoid contact with her. He quickened his steps and increased his vigilant watch.
Another man carried his small son as he hastened through the crowd. Despite the urgency in his manner, his feet shuffled as if he had not the strength to lift them clear of the walkway. “Help me find a doctor,” he called to one and all. “My son is sick. Someone, anyone, help me find a doctor.” The little boy breathed raggedly. The bloating of his extremities had faded, leaving him gaunt and wasted. His skin stretched too tightly over his facial bones, taking on a waxy, bluish tinge. The father dashed futilely from one person to the next.
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