Authors: Jenna Elizabeth Johnson
Tags: #Fiction, #Fantasy, #Magic, #Dragons, #Adventure, #Young Adult
True, she hadn’t actually been flaunted in quite some time, but Jaax’s requirement that she attend Coalition meetings, always to observe and never to participate, fell well under the category of acting as a show piece and nothing more.
Neira put an arm around Jahrra’s shoulder. “How do you know that is where you are going tonight?”
“I just do,” Jahrra replied, not wanting to admit she had overheard Jaax with the men below.
“Well, cheer up!” Neira said, hugging Jahrra’s shoulders with her arm. “At least we can enjoy getting ready! By the way,” she mused, taking a lock of Jahrra’s wet hair in her fingers, “when was the last time you trimmed your hair?”
Jahrra abided Neira’s primping and allowed her to take a few inches off of her hair. It had grown long and ragged and she hadn’t cut it since they left Oescienne several months ago.
As Neira hummed and snipped happily, Jahrra looked at herself in the tall mirror. Before coming to Lidien, she had only seen her reflection in a reflecting glass at Eydeth’s and Ellysian’s mansion in Kiniahn Kroi. That had been eight years ago, and the person looking back at her now was very different from the child she’d seen then.
Her eyes were still the same shade of gray-blue but her face had changed from that of a young child to that of a young woman. The sadness she often felt for her parents and Hroombra was still present in the slight shadows around her eyes, yet there was a bit of joy there as well. She liked Lidien and her new friends here very much and it had helped to improve her spirits.
“There, all finished!” Neira piped, startling Jahrra back to the present. “Now, let’s get your hair dry and presentable.”
Neira had lit a fire in Jahrra’s room while she bathed. It was a good thing too; the cold winter temperatures had seeped through the stone walls and settled into the floor. Neira ordered Jahrra to sit in front of the fire to let her hair dry. She obeyed without a fuss, grabbing a book to read while her hair dried. A half hour later, the housemaid was helping her into the dress. It slipped on easily and felt cool and comfortable despite all the fabric.
When all the primping and fussing was over, Neira directed her to stand in front of the mirror. Jahrra was surprised at the person standing before her in the reflection. She looked older than eighteen years, almost like a different person, almost like royalty. Jahrra laughed inwardly.
What a ridiculous notion
, she thought.
“This matches perfectly,” Neira said softly, laying one finger on the dragon scale hanging from her throat.
Jahrra glanced down at the pendant in her reflection and allowed herself a small grin. She wondered if her guardian had it in mind when he commissioned the dress.
Neira grunted in approval as she walked over to the desk where she had left the boxes earlier. She picked the smaller one off the top and approached Jahrra.
“You have to have shoes tonight.” She pulled the lid off and presented her with a pair of fur lined boots.
“Raejaaxorix thought that brown would be best, since you could wear them with all your other clothes as well.”
Jahrra ran her fingers over the soft fur and smiled. The other box, she soon found out, contained a thick hooded cloak, similar in color to her dress.
“This should keep me warm,” Jahrra mused after putting on the cloak, noting its blue and green pattern and lovely weave. It was long and heavy and also lined with fur.
Jahrra turned to the mirror once again and sighed. She wondered again who Jaax might be taking her to meet, considering all of this fuss. He had never required her to get so dressed up before. Even during those initial conferences their first month in Lidien, she didn’t always wear a dress to meet people.
“I’d say it’s about time we head downstairs,” Neira commented, eyeing the growing dusk through the window.
Jahrra felt suddenly nervous but she pushed the feeling away and took a deep breath. As they headed for the door, she flashed one more glance at the mirror. She
did
look nice. In fact, she looked much like the Resai upper class that walked the streets of Lidien, displaying their wealth in the clothes they wore.
In the common room below Jaax waited patiently, facing a healthy fire and gazing at it as if in a trance. For a moment, Jahrra thought he hadn’t heard them come down but eventually he turned and looked at her. He had been scowling, an expression all too common on his face of late, but soon the corners of his mouth softened, his eyes dropping whatever heavy burden his mind was carrying, and he cocked an eyebrow. Whether this new expression was one of surprise or amusement Jahrra didn’t know, but she cleared her throat and stepped boldly up to him.
“So, where must we be going that you should feel the need to dress me up like a peacock?”
Jahrra bit her tongue as soon as the last word was out. Where had that come from? Apparently, her habit of reacting defensively in uncomfortable situations hadn’t quite disappeared with her newfound respect for her guardian. She hadn’t really meant to sound so bitter, especially after the obvious kindness Jaax had gone to with not only the dress but the cloak and boots as well.
Jahrra gave a wary glance at her guardian, an apology on the tip of her tongue. Both the dragon’s eyebrows were lifted in surprise now and his mouth hardened once again.
“Dress you like a peacock?” Jaax said. “Well, there is no doubt you have the pride to match.”
Jahrra cringed inwardly, justifiably accepting the counter insult in stride.
I deserved that
, she thought.
“Oh, well, I think you both look very nice,” Neira blurted, coming to the conclusion there would be an argument unless she defused the situation.
Jahrra crossed her arms and rocked back on one foot, giving her guardian a good look. Neira was right; they were both at their best, ready to attend a king’s coronation if need be. Jaax looked as if someone had polished his scales again. He wore the simple silver filigree that he often wore when attending important affairs throughout Lidien. He also sported the Blood Rose medallion, its heavy chain wrapping around his neck like a golden rope. She cast her eyes towards the floor and blinked. Somehow, in the past several minutes, she had forgotten about the spirit stone ring. Of all the ridiculous adornments he was wearing the ring still suited him the best.
“The jewelers who made your ring,” Jahrra blurted to fill the awkward silence. “I had them put a tracer on it, a magical tracer, so that if you ever lose it, it would always manage to find you.”
Jaax blinked in astonishment, as if believing that was the very last thing in the world he expected her to say. He looked down at the spirit stone, its blue-green color very similar to the color of his scales.
“Did you now?” he mused in response to his ward’s statement.
Jahrra nodded.
“And what did you use in order to assure it would find me?”
His voice sounded defensive, as if he was still annoyed with her for her accusation just a few minutes ago. She swallowed and used a finger to pull her pendant away from her neck.
“This,” she said.
There was silence once again, but after a while Jahrra cleared her throat and said, “So, do we need to leave soon? Will we be late to wherever it is we are going?”
“Where we are going, Jahrra, is a surprise,” Jaax said, a little bit of the gruffness leaving his voice.
Jahrra stiffened even further. Who could they possibly be meeting? Did Jaax have the Tanaan prince hidden away somewhere in Lidien, waiting for the right moment to introduce him? And would she be shocked if that were the case? After all, he had kept her own identity hidden from her for so long it wouldn’t be too far-fetched of an idea if he was taking her to meet Oescienne’s long lost sovereign. The mere thought made her shudder.
“Surprise?” she finally said, not bothering to mask the apprehension in her voice.
Jaax just grinned, his eyes sharp with mischief once again. Jahrra didn’t like this, she didn’t like it all. She preferred to be prepared for what was to come.
“Ah, that sounds like the carriage,” Jaax said, his mood suddenly lighter.
They all stepped out into the late, frosty dusk. A covered carriage pulled by four matching gray horses came gliding up the drive. Jahrra almost cried out in surprise. They never took such a fancy coach anywhere. They either walked or she rode Phrym or used one of the many simple carts that catered to the entire populace of Lidien. Maybe they were going to meet the prince after all. Why else would Jaax insist on dressing up and keeping secrets? Jahrra felt suddenly weak. She didn’t think she was prepared for this.
The carriage pulled to a stop and a footman dropped down to open the door with a flourish for Jahrra. She shot Jaax a questioning look. The dragon nodded and Jahrra, lifting her skirts and cloak awkwardly, climbed into the carriage. She sat on the thick upholstered seats and turned to look back out the window.
“I’ll fly to our destination,” Jaax said, “but don’t worry; the coach knows where to go.”
Jahrra swallowed and nodded, too overwhelmed to speak. The driver whistled at the horses and the carriage lurched forward down the drive. Jahrra slumped back into the seat and released a deep breath. She turned her head to glance out the window but something on the opposite bench caught her attention. It was a long box wrapped in decorative paper, all secured with a red ribbon. Curious, she leaned forward and noticed a note with her name scrawled on it. She picked up the note and broke the seal, reading carefully in the dim light of the lantern hanging from the coach’s roof, rocking back and forth as the vehicle bounced down the road.
Jahrra,
An eighteenth birthday is a very important one and I hope that you enjoy what I have planned for this evening. Inside the box you will find two things: one, a clue as to where you are headed and two, something I thought you could use on an everyday basis.
Raejaaxorix
Now thoroughly intrigued, Jahrra lifted the box, surprised to find it a bit heavy, and began removing the bow and paper. The first thing she found was a sort of pamphlet written in fancy calligraphy. It had a title,
The Legend of Oescienne
, and a list of names and scenes.
So, we are going to a play?
Jahrra wondered. Perhaps they were meeting this important dignitary for an evening performance by way of introduction. Jahrra set the note and pamphlet aside, reaching for the second item in the box. It was a fine dagger, about as long as her forearm, complete with a sheath and buckled straps. The sheath was composed of finely etched leather with an image of the Baherhb and the dragons’ code written in Kruelt. The dagger itself was a little more affluent. The pommel fit well in Jahrra’s hand as she drew it from its sheath. Deep blue sapphires were spangled along the cross guard in an intricate pattern.
Jahrra examined the straps and sheath of the dagger and realized that it was meant to be strapped to her lower leg. Setting the pamphlet aside, she slipped off one of her boots and secured the sheath in place, grinning when she pulled her boot back on. There was plenty of room for the dagger. Sighing and trying not to allow herself to become spoiled with her guardian’s immense generosity, she turned her head to look out at the encroaching night.
The carriage felt like it was moving northward and when she noticed the ocean spreading like a dark plain to their left, it only confirmed her suspicions. Fifteen minutes later they crested the top of a hill and several blazing torches suddenly lit up the sky. Not able to help herself, Jahrra threw open the glass window of the carriage and stuck her head out. She gaped in surprise. A great stone façade rose in front of her, flanked by several young men in formal wear attending a large torch. Carriages and carts of every variety were pulling up and unloading people dressed in their finest. A cheerful melody was rising up from somewhere beyond the fancy archway and the light chatter and laughter of the crowd stirred the night air. The scent of burning tar, with the undertone of something mustier, like sheets or clothes that had been in storage too long, dusted the air.
“I see you made it in one piece,” Jaax’s voice broke into Jahrra’s daydreaming. “Shall we proceed?”
She blinked up at him. He looked almost regal, standing with the bright fires blazing just behind him. Jahrra was suddenly apprehensive again, remembering they must be meeting someone very important for Jaax to go to so much trouble.
The Tanaan dragon thanked the driver and asked them to return in a couple of hours. The driver and footman bowed formally and pulled the carriage off of the main path to make room for others.
“I hope you like this play, Jahrra,” Jaax said as they made their way past the torch-bearers.
Jahrra only swallowed and tried to keep up with the dragon’s longer strides. There were a few other dragons attending; a few Tanaan, a Korli or two and one other that didn’t look like any she had ever seen. Jahrra asked Jaax about it and he told her that sometimes dragons mixed with kruels different from their own. Jahrra nodded in understanding, wondering which two races had produced the unique dragon she admired from a distance.
The two of them made short work of the steps and as they moved through the arch of the façade, Jahrra gasped in surprise. Below them a great theater curved down from the top of the hill several feet to meet with a huge, circular stage. Torches, their fiery tops dancing in the gentle ocean breeze, lined the aisles. Ushers, dressed in the same fancy clothes as the torch-bearers outside, escorted people to their seats.