The Wizard's Treasure (The Dragon Nimbus) Read Free Page A

managed to tug on one of the new ones before a commotion on the other side of the paddock interrupted him.
    “Ah-ha!” exclaimed a deep voice. “We have the boot thieves! Arrest these men.” A burly soldier dressed in a faded green uniform tunic with a single muddy yellow stripe on his sleeves ran toward them brandishing a long dagger and an ax. Three more men with no stripes on their sleeves followed close behind him armed with clubs.
    “Run!” Robb exclaimed. He pulled Marcus to his feet.
    Marcus grabbed the second boot and followed, limping and off-balance.
    “Out of the way!” Robb turned to face the enemy, still running backward. He launched a witch bolt that looked like an arrow at the growing number of soldiers in pursuit. Fire fletched and tipped his missile.
    “Theft of a comrade’s equipment is punishable by hanging,” the leader pronounced. His followers screamed more invective.
    Marcus couldn’t understand a word they said, but their auras displayed intense outrage and bloodlust.
    The witch bolt landed directly in front of the leader’s feet. He hopped back, careening into his men. They tumbled backward, like so many stacked game cartes.
    “Lucky shot, Robb,” Marcus panted as they pelted away from camp toward the dubious cover of a shrub-lined creek.
    “Careful aim. I make my own luck.”
    They had just slid into the chill water of the foaming creek and drawn a deep breath when six men crashed through the shrubs a few paces to their right.
    “Keep running!” Robb called, hauling Marcus to his feet.
    “How about another witch bolt while I put on my boot?”
    “No time.”
    “We’re heading the wrong way.” Marcus limped behind Robb as he scrambled up the other side of the shallow ravine. His left sock was soaked and his foot hurt from running across the uneven turf and stones.
    “We’re heading toward safety.”
    “But the pass is back that way.”
    “Later. We’ll go after the dragons later.”
    Marcus dodged a real arrow followed by a knife aimed at his back. “I think my luck just ran out.”

CHAPTER 2
     
     
     
     
    “ T hree wizards and two Rovers beats your two ‘dragons and three turnips!” Vareena laughed loudly. A deep ripple of mirth warmed her heart. She didn’t laugh often enough. “That’s the first time I have beaten you at cartes, Farrell. Now hand over your treasure.” She peered through the misty light of her witchball at her ghostly companion who faded in and out of her vision.
    “My concentration slips, Eena,” Farrell excused himself. “Since this last fever, I have become quite forgetful.”
    “Very forgetful, indeed,” Vareena said around her smile. “You seem to have forgotten that you bet three acres of land in the Province of Nunio against my two cows and three chickens.” She had no hope of ever claiming her winnings. She and the ghost had played this game before. He always bet the same three acres and she always lost the same two cows and three chickens.
    Although her ghost required food and medications, blankets and shelter from the weather, he had no need of her dowry. Once trapped inside this ancient building, her ghosts never left.
    “Promise me, Vareena, that when I finally pass into the void between the planes of existence, you will take the amulet from around my neck and carry it to my family in Nunio.” Farrell paused a long moment, breathing heavily. His hand stole to his throat where he fingered the leather thong that held the silver-encased amethyst. After a moment he shifted his hand from his only treasure to lay it flat upon his chest. He closed his hand in fierce spasm three times, as if clutching the pain of his worn-out heart.
    Vareena saw the pulse in his throat beat more rapidly in an irregular rhythm. She wished she could rest her wrist against his forehead to test for fever. A barrier of stinging energy separated her from each of the ghosts who had found refuge here.
    “Tell my sister’s sons that you are my heir,”