The Awakening (46 page)

Jahrra nodded again, this time frowning as she did so. She knew the Mystic’s words were true and she had had the same thoughts ever since Jaax had informed her of their need to flee.

Denaeh continued when Jahrra didn’t protest. “Lidien is the last refuge for those who have real reason to fear the Tyrant king. You are making the right choice in drawing their attention elsewhere.”

The rattle of a cart snapped the two women away from their conversation. A voice called, followed by an answer, and Jahrra whipped around to see Phrym glancing over his shoulder, ears pricked forward.

“I must go,” Denaeh hissed, melting into her elderly self. “I’ll find you again if I can.”

“Goodbye,” Jahrra said, giving her small, frail frame a hug. “I hope you do.”

Denaeh cackled, the cackle of an old hag. “Oh, I will my dear, I will.”

Jahrra returned to her semequin just as the cart pulled up. A large Nesnan man, looking to be on the later end of life, glared down at her from under a battered felt hat.

“What you doin’ in that dirty alley?” he grumbled.

Jahrra cast him a haughty look. “Thought I saw something drop out of my saddle bag.”

The man gave her a disbelieving look and stretched to look over Phrym’s back.

Jahrra resisted the urge to turn and see if Denaeh had fled.

“Huh,” was all the man said, shifting the piece of straw in his mouth to the side with fewer teeth.

Without another word he clicked his tongue at his horses and snapped the reins. The empty cart lurched forward and continued up the bumpy road.

Jahrra wheeled around. She shouldn’t have been surprised to find the Mystic gone from the tiny alley, but she still couldn’t figure out how her friend had slipped away. The passage was fifteen feet long at most and met up with a brick wall as high as the roofs of the two buildings on either side of it. Denaeh must have had some of her own magic stowed away somewhere in her cloak.

When Jahrra finally arrived at the fortune teller’s shop, she was immensely disappointed to find the place locked up and looking empty of life. Using the sleeve of her old tunic, she smeared away dust and grime, then held her hands up to the window and peered inside. She gasped and lurched back in shock. Luckily Phrym had been standing just behind her, or else she would have crashed onto the hard cobblestones of the street.

The astonishment of what she had seen made her hand shake as she gathered up Phrym’s reins. As quickly as she could, she hopped into the saddle and turned him back down the street, encouraging him into a fast pace. Cold sweat plastered her shirt against her back and she fought the urge to look back over her shoulder. She no longer cared if the fortune teller was a Mystic, nor did she want to know why the woman had reacted so strangely to the mention of Denaeh’s name.

***

From the edge of the fortune teller’s shop, Denaeh watched as Jahrra fumbled her way onto her semequin, keeping out of sight until she was sure the girl wouldn’t see her. She hadn’t meant to come back to the shop, not after speaking with Jahrra on her way out of this quaint little neighborhood after completing her business there, but there was something she had left behind that Jahrra might see; that the girl might take the wrong way and start to form the wrong ideas.

Denaeh heaved a great sigh and glanced through the very window Jahrra had just looked through. It wasn’t the neat, crowded little living room it had been when she arrived earlier that morning, carrying the bag of dark magic with her. She had been genuinely shocked that the subtle life force of the ingredients had led her here, to Sahrielle’s hiding place in the middle of Lidien.

No, she hadn’t been shocked at her presence, for Jahrra had informed her as much a few weeks ago. What had surprised her was that she hadn’t detected her at all. How on Ethoes had Sahrielle developed the skill to block her own powers? And furthermore, why had she been aiding those two Tanaan dragons in their efforts to undermine Jaax and Jahrra?

Denaeh gritted her teeth. It annoyed her that someone had slipped beyond her grasp, and she had taken it out on the woman’s shop. The place was a disaster, books and chairs and cushions shredded and thrown everywhere. But it was the multiple dark red stains that painted the walls in gruesome relief that had most likely scared Jahrra.

“Not blood, my dearest,” Denaeh whispered as she tightened her grip on the bag she held. “It is only the residue of my own spells, not real blood.”

She looked up at the sign hanging above the shop and spotted Milihn, a lock of fire-red hair hanging from his beak.

“Thank you, love,” she murmured as he fluttered to her shoulder. “Wouldn’t want our little savior to see that through the window now, would we? Along with all that blood?”

She grinned again, the expression looking wicked if anyone were around to see it. “No, not blood, not really. But had Sahrielle been here this morning, it would have been.”

***

The morning they left Lidien was cold and foggy, the perfect combination to match the anguish in Jahrra’s heart. Jahrra, on the suggestion of Jaax, rose early in order to secure everything she needed in Phrym’s saddle bags. Someone from the stables had saddled him for her and brought him up to Jaax’s home. She tried not to be too disappointed; she had been looking forward to one last walk down the forested hillside to the stables. Instead she sighed and got back to her task. Much of what she had grown used to in Lidien would stay behind, the items that could not be taken along: her desk, the tapestries, the apple trees in the garden, the friends she had made over the past year.

Jahrra bit back the bitterness she felt. It seemed her lot in life to be torn from those she had grown to love. She could dwell on the unfairness of it all but instead she chose to think about the day before, when Jaax had held a going away party of sorts. Dathian, Torrell and Senton had been the first to arrive and the last to leave, several hours after dark. Kehllor had been there and so had Anthar and his wife Mirrial. Neira had called in her cousins and friends to help with the cooking and decorating, for several Coalition members and even some of Jahrra’s not so familiar classmates dropped by to wish them luck.

The whole event had been overwhelming and a bit daunting, but Jahrra put on her best dress (the one Jaax had given her for her birthday) and her guardian had worn all of his formal finery. The two of them spent the long hours of that final day in Lidien, appreciating those who had been kind to them.

Jahrra sighed and turned her head. Ellyesce was standing just outside the door of Jaax’s great manor, speaking with one of the men hired to help them pack. Although he had spent every night since his arrival eating dinner with them, she still knew nothing about him. Jaax’s announcement that he would be accompanying them to Nimbronia had come as a shock, especially after the dragon’s cool acceptance of him and the elf’s own vow to become familiar with the Coalition once again. But Jaax had asked him to come along. Perhaps their rough re-acquaintance was all an act or maybe Ellyesce felt he could serve the Coalition better by accompanying her and her guardian to Nimbronia.

Jahrra was too weary and heart-sore to demand answers, so she resigned herself to keeping an eye on the enigmatic elf and working her way up to figuring him out on their long journey. After all, she would have plenty of time to do so.

Phrym whickered and ruffled her with his mouth, crunching atop the gravel as he waited to leave. She smiled at him, despite her shining eyes. She scanned the circular drive, pale gray in the early morning darkness, and counted all those who were present. Many were members of the Coalition, not satisfied with seeing them off the night before, come to bid them a safe journey and a solemn farewell. She wondered if any of these people present were glad or relieved that the overbearing Tanaan dragon and his possibly non-human ward were leaving.

Jahrra shook her head, scattering the thought away. At least Shiroxx and Rohdann hadn’t dropped by. If they had shown up, she was sure they would be walking around amongst their colleagues, whispering of good riddance to bad rubbish.

The heavy crunch of gravel made Jahrra jump from her scrutinizing assessment.

“Scheming are we?” Kehllor asked.

She smiled and turned around. “Just thinking.”

The golden dragon smiled and Jahrra released a breath she hadn’t realized she’d been holding. She leaned her head against Phrym’s shoulder and surveyed the scene once more.

“They don’t all think ill of you, you know,” he said softly behind her.

“Oh? How do you know that?”

“I’ve been asking around. Part of the new job description.” He smiled.

Jahrra grunted. Jaax had decided to leave Kehllor somewhat in charge of the Coalition while they were away. Jahrra had been surprised because although she liked Kehllor very much and thought him very responsible despite his one-time attachment to Shiroxx, she wasn’t sure if he had enough experience for such a role. Jaax had agreed with her concern.

“That is why it’s a shared position. He’ll have help from Dathian and Anthar, as well as several others. It’s only temporary, until the Coalition can vote on a new, permanent leader.”

Jahrra had cringed at her guardian’s words. She didn’t think anyone could truly replace him as head of the Coalition, but seeing that he wouldn’t be around to make those tough decisions and keep everyone in order, it was best he left others in charge. At least for now.

“It’s simply in their nature to be suspicious and to ask all the questions that need to be asked of those they suspect,” Kehllor continued with his earlier assessment. “Most of them still believe the truth Jahrra, that you are who Jaax says you are.”

“And what is that exactly?” Jahrra turned to look at him. She really didn’t need the answer but she wanted to hear it from this new found friend of hers.

He gave her a troubled look but sighed and answered her question anyway, “That you are the human child Ethoes promised in the prophecy so many centuries ago. That Jaax never tried to deceive anyone.”

Her eyes suddenly filled with tears. “Oh Kehllor,” she said, “I wish you were going with us. We could use another dragon in our party.”

Kehllor nodded, moving in closer but not too close to shove Phrym out of the way. He gritted his teeth and whispered, “I wish I could go too. But perhaps once everything blows over and someone much more competent is leading this Coalition of ours, I can find you in Nimbronia.”

Jahrra wiped her eyes and smiled. “If that is the case, then this journey doesn’t look so bad after all.”

“Besides,” Kehllor added as an afterthought, his mouth lifting in a small grin, “someone must stay behind and look after Jaax’s estate.”

Jahrra flashed him a grin. Despite her reluctance to leave her new home behind, she was glad that Kehllor would be living there in her and Jaax’s absence. He would keep Neira company; make sure her apple trees were cared for.

The loud crunch of feet upon the crushed granite once again drew Jahrra’s attention away from Kehllor. Several of the hired men from before were carrying Jahrra’s bags out to an extra horse Jaax had purchased for their journey.

In those bags were all the sets of clothing she might need as they made their way up the Great Hrunahn Mountains, including the dresses that would be required for the court at Nimbronia. The idea of meeting the Creecemind king terrified her but she would worry about that much later.

Checking Phrym one last time to make sure her sword and bow were stowed along with her other items, she nodded to Kehllor and made her way back through the great doorway of the house, sidestepping those who were assisting in their departure. She wanted to view the vaulted ceiling and enormous fireplace one more time before leaving, and she was hoping to find Neira as well. What she did find, however, was an unfamiliar pair of pants, a warm jacket and a hooded, fleece-lined cloak draped over the couch. The jacket and pants were of a pale doe skin and were very soft to the touch and lined with wool. The cloak was crafted of fine wool as well, its color a pale blue.

“Master Jaax had those made for you,” Neira said from the kitchen door.

Jahrra jumped and looked up, snatching her hand away guiltily. Neira merely smiled.

“You’ll be meeting up with cold weather in the mountains by the time you reach Nimbronia and I’ve heard that winter never leaves that great city. Raejaax wanted to make sure you were prepared.”

The housemaid walked towards her and stroked the blue cloak as if it were an injured child. “Water resistant as well. It will do you good when the weather turns nasty.”

Jahrra tilted her head to the side to get a better look at Neira. The woman was holding back tears, Jahrra could tell. A sudden pang hit her and all of the thoughts she’d been harboring earlier came flooding back. She didn’t want to feel the anguish of tearing herself away again, but Neira did her in.

Tears spilled from Jahrra’s eyes as she hugged the woman close, taking her by surprise.

“I don’t want to leave!” she whispered harshly; fearfully.

Neira merely cooed and patted Jahrra’s back, shushing her.

“I am so afraid,” Jahrra finally admitted. “I’m so terribly afraid, Neira.”

“I know dearest,” the woman said in a thick voice.

She drew Jahrra away and held her at arm’s length. “But you have Jaax, and that elf is going along with you.”