Free The Broken Dragon: Children of the Dragon Nimbus #2 by Irene Radford Page B

transport spell?”
    “Another master,” Marcus returned. “A rogue.”
    “Or an exiled and disgruntled master.”
    “Neither Samlan nor any of his followers had enough skill to do that.”
    “On that I agree. But if they are somewhere they can still gather dragon magic, they could, with patience, possibly join together and grab one of the journeymen without any finesse. They were all linked so that they’d arrive at the same point at the same time.” Jaylor began pacing, mulling over possibilities. He’d never thought of kidnapping a person out of transport. Never needed to. Or wanted to. Transports were dangerous enough without interference.
    He’d been lost in the void once. Lost in the wonder of having no body to feel with, no eyes to see with. Only his mind perceived the dozens of bright, pulsing umbilicals of life. Each one carried the color of a person’s essence. He’d seen his own blue and red braid for the first time, a pattern echoed in the twists of his staff. Brevelan’s green, yellow, and bronze had coiled around him with love and concern. King, then-Prince, Darville’s green and gold had twined through both of them. Somehow, the love the three of them shared had reached through the void to find him and brought him back to reality.
    He didn’t know if the bonds of love and friendship among Robb, his wife Maigret, Marcus, and his wife Vareena were strong enough to snatch Robb back.
    “How do we find the location of his prison?” Jaylor asked, before he lost his thoughts in an endless loop of memories and despair.
    “I don’t know,” Marcus replied softly. “I’ve tried everything I could think of, and this is the first glimmer of success in three months.”
    A hesitant knock on the door roused them from sinking into depression. “Yes?” they both answered at the same time.
    Heat flushed Jaylor’s cheeks, and he deferred to Marcus with a gesture. This was no longer his office, though technically, as Senior Magician he outranked Marcus, even here.
    “Sir,” came a young voice that deepened from adolescent squeaks to an even tenor but still held the variability of youth.
    Jaylor looked up to find himself staring at his second son, Lukan. Actually his first son, since Glenndon had been sired by Darville on that night long ago when Jaylor had lost himself in the void, too enthralled with an abundance of Tambootie hallucinations to know where he was.
    “Da?” The boy stared back in surprise. He tossed his dark auburn hair out of his eyes with a flick of his head that reminded Jaylor of Brevelan. As usual, his three-strand queue had loosened to the near nonexistence typical of Jaylor when distracted. The burning slash across Lukan’s cheek, left by a stray spark of magic, still looked angry and raw. It would scar rather than heal clean. “I didn’t know you’d return, sir.” Lukan looked away, concentrating on Marcus, his master and tutor instead of his father, whom he hadn’t seen in weeks. “I thought about finding Master Robb while I was studying the maps of Coronnan’s coastline.”
    “And?” Marcus asked.
    “What if we did a scrying spell with the bowl and candle placed atop the map?”
    “I’ve tried that,” Marcus said sadly. “I saw only this candle flame illuminating a dry prison cell.” He gestured to the paraphernalia on the desk.
    Jaylor noticed the map for the first time. He’d been so interested in the vision within the glass he hadn’t noticed anything else.
    “But you don’t have a candle and bowl of water . . .” Lukan protested.
    “Not this time.” Marcus heaved a sigh. “Thank you for sharing your thoughts, Lukan. This matter concerns us all. If you think of anything else . . .”
    “Have you tried a crystal pendulum?” Jaylor interjected, happy that his mind finally worked. He smiled at his son and beckoned him forward.
    Lukan remained rooted to his position in the doorway, pointedly ignoring his father.
    Jaylor lifted his eyebrow in