The Awakening (45 page)

Sighing deeply, she let the confusion and bewilderment play around in her mind. She hardly noticed Neira coming in to check on her and when she finally gathered the energy to get ready for the school day, the questions were still playing tag in her head.

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Chapter Twenty-Six
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Another Year, another Departure

To Jahrra’s great relief, they didn’t leave Lidien immediately. She and her guardian stayed another few weeks, gathering their belongings together and getting their affairs in order.

A few days after the storm of rumors hit, Jahrra arrived to her classes with a heavy heart, for she had spent the previous afternoons writing letters to her professors, explaining that she would not be able to finish up the year. Jaax had thought it would be prudent and polite of her to inform them that she needed to leave Lidien for her safety and for the safety of its citizens. Presenting Anthar with his letter was the hardest for her. Not that he needed an explanation, for he (and the rest of the Coalition) had been informed of the impending threat the Crimson King’s soldiers presented. Nevertheless, she would miss her wildlife professor, and the class field trips, the most.

The glares and the whispers instigated by Shiroxx continued to follow her throughout the city as she made her farewells. A few people even shouted angrily at her, insisting that she explain what they’d heard. Jahrra just gritted her teeth and moved on. She hadn’t expected the rumors to disappear overnight but she had hoped that after a week or so their acridity would have lessened a little. But it didn’t matter what they said or thought. She and Jaax would be gone soon and they could all get back to their normal, unexciting, safe lives. The thought made a bitter taste in Jahrra’s mouth. How wonderful it would be to be one of them, to not have to worry about being hunted down or rescuing the world. To not be the only one of her kind.

She had waited to tell her friends of their coming departure last. On the third day after receiving the news herself, Jahrra asked Senton, Torrell and Dathian to meet her on their usual practice field after their classes. Dathian would probably already know since he had heard the news at the last Coalition meeting. But, as always, when she told them she would be leaving and why, she knew he would play the part of the bookish common elf and pretend like he didn’t already know.

As she sat waiting for her friends that afternoon, Jahrra tried not to let the grief well up inside of her. Torrell, Dathian and Senton meant the world to her, just as Gieaun and Scede had back in Oescienne. She didn’t know how she would survive being torn from those she loved once again, but somehow, she had to. Jahrra counted the daffodils coming up under the trees and noted the first shoots of new grass surrounding the practice field to pass the time. Spring was just around the corner in Lidien. Jahrra grinned, an ironic, bittersweet grin. Why was it that she was always facing some great change in her life at the end of winter?

The sound of Phrym’s soft whicker informed her that her friends had arrived. Jahrra stiffened and as the three of them dismounted and approached her, she could tell by their faces that they knew she harbored bad news.

Before she could lose her nerve and break down completely, she told them how Jaax learned of enemy forces gathering outside of Felldreim’s borders and that she and her guardian had to leave by the end of the following week.

Jahrra had expected the silence that followed and she fought the painful tidal wave crashing against her heart.

Senton spoke first.

“I wish we could go with you,” he said quietly, shoving his hands deeper into his pockets as he leaned against a sycamore tree.

Jahrra glanced at him, blinking away her unwanted tears.

“You can’t,” she said softly. “It’s far too dangerous. You’re much safer here.”

Torrell harrumphed. “None of us are safe,” she said, “not until this all comes to an end.”

She waved her arm about, indicating Lidien but really meaning what everybody had been trying to ignore for five hundred years. The pall of the Tyrant still hanging rank in the air.

Jahrra nodded, but said no more.

Dathian remained silent but he stood the closest to her and leaned in just enough to offer his own support. He understood their need to flee Lidien more than anyone, she thought.

Jahrra took the back streets and paths home that evening, hoping to avoid the wrath of anyone else who might want to inform her of how much of a fraud she was and how her guardian was a corrupt and incompetent leader.

By the time she entered the great room of Jaax’s hilltop estate, it was dusk. Neira was in the kitchen, getting dinner ready. She looked pale and drawn, as if she were holding back a river of emotion.

“Neira,” Jahrra started gently.

“Oh, I just don’t want to see you go!” she wailed, letting it all flow free as she threw her arms around Jahrra.

Jahrra returned her embrace, her own throat aching. “Oh Neira, I don’t want to go either. How will I survive without your cooking?”

Neira sobbed and laughed at the same time but she was shaking her head against Jahrra’s shoulder. “It isn’t right. You shouldn’t have to be responsible for such impossible things! You should not have to face this on your own.”

Jahrra gently pushed the housemaid away and held her at arm’s length. “But I have to go,” she said quietly, trying to catch Neira’s eyes with her own, “it’s what I was born for.”

Neira had reduced herself to sniffles and shudders. She pulled out a handkerchief and made good use of it. “I know,” she finally conceded miserably, “but it still isn’t fair.”

Jahrra smiled, one that suggested she might be wise beyond her years. “No, it’s not. But I won’t be alone Neira, I’ll have Jaax.”

The housemaid nodded then reluctantly got back to her work.

Jaax came home late that night, so late that Jahrra never saw him, just heard him enter with others, most likely colleagues from the Coalition. She had been lying awake in bed, trying very hard not to feel sorry for herself and to remind herself that she had known from the beginning that they couldn’t stay in Lidien forever. When she finally did fall asleep, the horizon was fading into the gray of dawn and her guardian was gone once again.

Jahrra spent those precious days of her final weeks in Lidien just wandering around the city with Phrym. When she was riding her semequin people were reluctant to shout at her. She visited the small market closest to them, the one where she sometimes accompanied Neira on errands, and all the parks and trails that she and Phrym liked best.

Every day she met Torrell, Dathian, Senton and a handful of her other classmates for lunch at one of the many restaurants throughout the city. Jaax had suggested she take in as much of the city’s splendor as she could, doubling the allowance he paid her so that she could do so more easily.

As the days progressed the angry gossip mongers seemed to have lost some of their steam but didn’t disappear altogether. Two days before they left, Jahrra worked up the gumption to revisit the string of shops where she had stumbled upon the Mystic masquerading as a fortune teller. She hadn’t had much time to think about the strange and unsettling encounter in the past month, but now that she would be leaving, perhaps for good, and now that she needed some other conundrum to distract her from her woebegone thoughts, she decided to return to the Witching District once again.

The buildings were as dark and crowded as they had been last autumn, looking like obscure entrances to other worlds. Despite her first unsavory impression of this place, Jahrra couldn’t help but love the uneven, cobbled streets and crooked cottages. The buildings reminded her of those back at home in Oescienne, with rickety staircases hugging the rough walls as they climbed up two stories or more. The planter boxes were no longer barren but displayed an array of young flowers and bulbs, herbs and even a few mushrooms. The rich smell of stew and baking bread filled the air and the soft melody of someone humming a mournful song poured out of one of the shops.

Jahrra still had several houses to go to before she reached the fortune teller’s residence. In order to pass the time, she peered down the alleyways as she passed, hoping to spot something shocking like a witch brewing a potion in her cauldron or an otherworldly creature crouching and sharpening its teeth on a bone.

When she glanced down one particular alley and caught sight of an ancient woman standing in a scarlet cloak, she nearly screamed with surprise.

“Hush!” the crackled voice of Denaeh’s older self hissed.

She waved at Jahrra, enticing her to enter the narrow lane. Jahrra conceded without a second thought, leaving a confused Phrym standing on the street to stare after her. She tried to ignore the joy in her heart, for she had feared they would leave before she could see her old friend again.

Once inside the semi-darkness of the narrow space, Denaeh threw back her hood, her young face smiling brightly.

“What are you doing inside the city?” Jahrra asked in a harsh whisper. “Aren’t you afraid Jaax might see you?”

As if suspecting this to happen, Jahrra shot a glance over her shoulder but the street outside remained empty, only the lazy smoke of the warped chimneys providing any kind of movement.

Denaeh’s grin widened, her topaz eyes sparkling with mischief. “He’s far too busy at the moment to worry about wayward Mystics.”

She flapped her hand through the air in a gesture that proved her nonexistent concern.

“You must know what has been going on then,” Jahrra said, becoming stoic once more.

“Aye,” she said, crossing her arms loosely and giving Jahrra a serious look. “That female dragon has been tarnishing your name and using dirty magic to do so.”

Jahrra’s eyes lit with irritation. “So it really was her. I
knew
it!”

Denaeh nodded. “Yes, her and that other Tanaan.”

“Rohdann,” Jahrra murmured. “Did you
see
it or hear about it from the people of Lidien?”

The Mystic tilted her head. “I saw some of it, a revelation that came only yesterday, and then this morning Milihn provided me with the proof I needed.”

“Milihn?” Jahrra asked. “What proof?”

Denaeh reached into her robes and pulled out an old leather bag, cracked in some spots and drawn tight with a narrow string. The Mystic’s eyes were blazing now, her curly red hair framing her bright face like a blazing halo.

“What is that?” Jahrra asked, stepping forward to get a closer look.

“A recipe, or more precisely, a potion. It’s a dry mix of ingredients that, when placed on the tongue, wrap the words that are spoken in a spell of malice and intention.”

Jahrra gaped. So Jaax had been right. The rumors had been tainted with dishonest magic.

Denaeh pulled the bag open and Jahrra got a whiff of the nasty stuff. She felt her bile rise and she turned away, covering her mouth and nose. When she turned back, her eyes were watering and wide with shock.

“That smells terrible!” she muffled through her fingers.

“Aye,” Denaeh responded, wrinkling her nose and reclosing the bag as far away from her face as possible. “And it tastes just as bad.”

Jahrra didn’t ask how Denaeh knew that but instead queried, “If that belongs to Shiroxx and Rohdann, how did you get it?”

Denaeh returned the bag to her hidden pocket and turned back to Jahrra, her hands on her hips. “Milihn, of course. He slipped into the red dragon’s house and listened to her conversation with Rohdann. The two of them exchanged some words and then administered the powder in this bag. Then they left to spread their nefarious lies. Milihn swooped down and snatched up the bag, bringing it back to me in the woods.”

Jahrra simply stared at Denaeh. She didn’t wonder how Milihn had told her all of this but she wouldn’t be surprised if the Mystic could speak mind to mind with her bird.

Instead, she said, “This information would have been very useful a few days ago.”

Denaeh shrugged. “You haven’t come to see me since I made my presence known and if you had this information, how would you share it with Jaax without alerting him to my presence?”

Jahrra slouched. Denaeh had a point. Besides, she and Jaax knew how the rumors had become so malicious, so it really didn’t matter in the end. But there was something Jahrra needed to know, or at least she wanted to know.

“We’re leaving Lidien, you know,” she said.

Denaeh nodded. “I know.”

“Because the Creecemind king wants to see that I actually exist,” she paused, taking in Denaeh’s reaction.

Masked and calm as usual.

Jahrra took a breath and continued, “and because the Tyrant’s men have penetrated Felldreim’s borders with the intent to harm me.”

It was there and gone in a flash, a look that crossed the Mystic’s eyes. Jahrra only wished she could process what she was seeing faster.

She ignored her slight irritation and said, “Is this true?”

Denaeh took a while to answer her but eventually she did. “I have sensed a large negative presence of late, like the slow onslaught of a disease. Yet I haven’t had any solid visions yet; too much magic, both good and ill, seems to be stirring of late and it makes it harder for me to see. Nevertheless,” she took a breath, “I believe Raejaaxorix is making the right decision in moving you from Lidien.”

Jahrra nodded sharply, once.

“Not only would you be trapped here if they managed to breach the magic of the city but your presence would make the entire population of Lidien a great target.”