The Legend of Oescienne



The Awakening

By Jenna Elizabeth Johnson

Copyrighted Material

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, incidents and cover images are a product of the author’s imagination. Any resemblance to actual persons and places is entirely coincidental.

THE LEGEND OF OESCIENNE

_______

THE AWAKENING

Copyright © 2011 by Jenna Elizabeth Johnson

All rights reserved.

No part of this book or its cover may be reproduced in any manner without written permission from its creator.

For more information and to contact the author visit: www.oescienne.com

For Laura and Niño, who have ventured beyond the realm of Normal with me and haven’t looked back since.

Ỳvendth phrymen, ínt drŭhmeh bríkhín avedth edth odhíesse semmren epit aebýell moerhedth elsciôhen, noedehnín toedthe ýsedth ímíht helíhn aebíy drŭhmeh vítah ada príŭht epit aebýell.

CONTENTS

PROLOGUE

The Fall

ONE

Getting Away

TWO

Into the Wilderness

THREE

Crie

FOUR

A Guided Tour and a Day of Mischief

FIVE

The Oak of Ethöes

SIX

Traveling on the Saem

SEVEN

The City of Light

EIGHT

Friendly Strangers and Stranger Friends

NINE

The Odd Behavior of Elves

TEN

A Familiar Dragon and

a Formal Introduction

ELEVEN

A Grand Event and a Prince in Disguise

TWELVE

Rescuing Dragons and Playing Hostess

THIRTEEN

Sobledthe in the City

FOURTEEN

The Spirit Stone

FIFTEEN

The Fortune Teller’s Secret

SIXTEEN

A Gift from the Heart

SEVENTEEN

A Misunderstanding and

an Apology to Match

EIGHTEEN

An Unexpected Caller

NINETEEN

Confessions, Accusations and

an Inevitable Banishment

TWENTY

An Act of Defiance

TWENTY-ONE

Enemies and Allies

TWENTY-TWO

A Surprise Encounter

TWENTY-THREE

Bad News

TWENTY-FOUR

The Liar and the Fraud

TWENTY-FIVE

A Visitor in the Night

TWENTY-SIX

Another Year, another Departure

EPILOGUE

A Betrayal in the Making

Pronunciation Guide

Kruelt Alphabet

The Legend of Oescienne



The Awakening

-Prologue-

The Fall

I was born in a time when the world was still recovering from Ciarrohn’s first attack. Though I had a fair mix of elvish and even dwarfish blood in my veins, I was mostly human. There wasn’t a word for our kind yet, but years later we would be called Nesnan or Resai. We were simply called people then, like all the other races.

I was raised in the place of my birth, in the hills near Dhonoara, and although I was considered a great beauty I sought no one out as a husband. Early on I proved to be talented, set apart from the others, so I was sent away to hone my skills and work towards becoming something greater. I never saw my family again, but my classmates and school teachers helped fill that void. I spent many years training, studying and developing my skills and I grew very close to one of my tutors in particular. I even imagined a future with him, a future that seemed as bright and wondrous as any I could imagine, but fate offered me another option.

Despite my years of study and knowledge, I was still very young among my peers and my mind was easily persuaded by anything bright and charming. And I had another vice then: the desire for power. The lingering evil of Ciarrohn had tainted many of us with its poison, but I was weak and I could not push it from my veins. It would have remained nothing more than a yearning if not for one thing.

An uprising in the north of our province, the province of Ghorium, brought forth a challenger to the elvin king. He was soon defeated by the human man, young and ambitious and from a far away province in the west. The people of Ghorium were shocked at this, for Ethöes had granted the kingdom of Ghorium to the elves, but the idea of a fresh new ruler, one who had usurped the throne of the harsh monarch before him, made us all forget that the world had been shifted off balance.

Our new ruler was touring his new kingdom when he came to my secluded valley and immediately I was overcome by his presence. He was charming, he was handsome, and he had just overthrown a cruel and mighty king. To our people and many more he was a hero, for the previous sovereign of Ghorium had grown harsh and bitter, corrupted by the lingering infection of Ciarrohn.

This new monarch was also powerful and for some reason or another he was interested in me and, fool that I was, I fell for his beguiling charms. I must admit, I was overtaken by the king’s fine looks and impeccable manners and he offered me a share in his power, that tantalizing position I had yearned for all my life. So I turned my back on my tutor, the one who had trained me with patience and kindness, the one who had been by my side through laughter and sorrow. I knew he loved me and I thought I had loved him, at least before my new suitor arrived. But that desire for power had a cruel hold on me and I took the offer the human king of Ghorium extended to me. We married and I traveled to the northern reaches of the province with him to begin what I thought was going to be the perfect life. A queen, married to a man I thought to be in love with. How could anything destroy that?

A year into our marriage I learned that I was pregnant. I had never hoped for such a blessing, for I was certain that the gift of motherhood was something Ethöes denied me; a choice I had made long before meeting my king. But I must have been wrong, for I was to be a mother after all. Oh, the joy I felt in those first few months! My husband, of course, was elated and started making plans for his new son.

“But if it is a princess we are expecting . . . ?” I had said, laughing a little.

“No,” he had answered me tersely, “it will be a son and he will be the most powerful king that ever lived.”

My smile lingered but soon faded as I saw something pass over my husband’s eyes. He didn’t look quite himself, as if someone else had spoken for him. I shrugged it off, thinking it might just be his own enthusiasm getting the better of him. But as the weeks passed he became more and more alien to me, as if he had been wearing a disguise all this time and it was just now falling apart all around him.

My king was no longer charming and kind but brusque and demanding. He never spoke to me, only to the child growing inside of me, as if I meant nothing to him. At first I hid my grief, thinking this was normal for a father who was expecting a son, but it finally wore me down. I spent less time outdoors, locked away in the icy castle in the north of Ghorium, wondering why my husband’s regard was vanishing, wondering if my child would love me when he finally arrived. Wondering, dreading, if my king would hate me if it was a daughter I gave him and not a son.

In time I learned to avoid my husband when he fell into one of his rages, something that occurred more often than not. He hadn’t been this way when we first married and I feared this was some hidden part of him that he’d kept from me. I dreaded even more that perhaps the land itself had ruined him just as it had destroyed our previous monarch, the elvin king everyone seemed to have forgotten. For it was upon this very soil that Ciarrohn stirred his malice once before; before the dragon Traagien could put an end to his corruption.

If the taint of the evil god was once again taking hold in the hearts of the people of Ghorium, would I too become bitter and hateful? Would my unborn child succumb as well? I could only hope and plead with Ethöes that such was not so and use what power and talents I had to protect those I still loved.

During this time, when my husband cast me aside and my worries overwhelmed me, I thought of the man who had cared for me those many years ago. Bitter tears would well up in my eyes when I thought of him, but I dashed them away. I had forsaken that gift when I allowed my desire for power to control me. I had given up love for the chance to be queen of a great province and now I walked alone, not even my ladies in waiting and the servants paying me much heed.

The birth of my son was a miracle in of itself, for when he finally came into this world he took all that he could from me. It was a surprise that I survived it, for he was strong and I was weak. He did not cry when he greeted this world and a sliver of fear cut through my heart, but I was told he was perfectly healthy. I fell asleep, wondering if I had been lied to, not expecting to wake up again.

The days blurred together and I saw my new son seldom. The king came to me once, holding up our child and grinning broadly, a hint of wickedness in his eyes. I was worried at first but then he spoke, “Behold, my son, Cierryon. For he will be as great as the god Ciarrohn and he will one day rule the world.”

I wondered then why Ethöes hadn’t been merciful and taken my life in childbirth. I saw the truth now; my husband had been poisoned, corrupted by the goddess’s youngest son, the one who never ceased to cause pandemonium in our world. I feared for myself then, but I feared for my son even more. My husband called him Cierryon, in honor of the god who had ensorcelled him, but I had my own name for him, a name I would call him when we were together, if we were ever permitted to be together again: Kalehm.

Slowly I healed and eventually I was allowed to see my son. He was a month old when I was finally well enough to leave my chambers, and he stole my heart immediately. His hair was fair like his father’s but his eyes were dark like my mother’s. The sudden memory of my family brought tears to my eyes but I quickly hid them, for my king no longer abided tears.

The first few years of my son’s life was a hard time for me, for as my husband fell further into his obsession with the god Ciarrohn, I found myself keeping apart from him as often as possible. His temper flared at the smallest inclination and he often took his rage out on me in order to spare our son. The castle became a miserable prison, for myself and those who served us. The king doted on his child, teaching him habits I would never have dreamed of, allowing him to be violent and giving him everything he desired.

Once I imagined myself taking my child and fleeing with him, running off to some far away province where the king of Ghorium could never find us. It was a simple trip into the country that changed my mind on the matter. I took my boy, Kalehm, the name I only used when his father was not around, without informing the king of our plans. He hunted us down and I was punished for my indiscretion, all in sight of our son. It wasn’t the pain my husband inflicted on me that wounded me so, but the look on Kalehm’s face. Indifference. Seeing his mother’s harsh punishment had no effect on him whatsoever. That is when I realized that my husband never wished to spare our son when he abused me; he wished to train him to accept such violence and to be immune to its awfulness.

I could have left, yes. I could have given it all up and gone on my own. My husband would not have cared one way or the other. But I could not leave my son to his imminent destruction, so I stayed, despite the cruelty, neglect and turmoil. I tried to teach my son what I could, when his father was not around, to instill some good in him. But it seemed impossible.

I should have left that first year, but some inborn maternal instinct wouldn’t let me go. It wasn’t until my boy’s tenth year that I realized the child I had clung to and tried to save was no longer there. He had been completely transformed, turned into something spiteful and evil, and when I looked carefully I could see glimpses of Ciarrohn in his eyes. My Kalehm was no longer in control; he no longer thought or felt, his mind and soul had been completely dominated by whatever sliver remained of the evil god in this world. Traagien had done his best, but that great dragon had not destroyed Ciarrohn completely those many years ago and now the evil god had found a young, strong host, one I was certain he would never relent.

My heart broke the day I realized my son was lost and I wandered the castle halls, sobbing silently and wishing for an end to my torment. But such a blessing would not come to me because of a vow I made years before. I would suffer for my misdeeds, for choosing the desire for power over love. This was to be my fate and punishment.

I stayed in the castle for a month after my discovery but it was time for me to leave, to strike out into the world and try to forget my mistakes and my failures. I was correct in thinking my husband would not care about my whereabouts, as long as he had our son at his side. I left with only the clothes on my back. Briefly, I thought of returning to my homeland, of seeking out the man I had once admired and rejected but I knew he could no longer love me, if love me he did before I married the king. As comforting as it seemed to go back to that life I knew I could not. I had forsaken it long ago.

The wilderness became my home and I thanked the goddess for giving me a curiosity about the earth and its growing things when I was a child, for I was able to care for myself well enough by taking advantage of its bounty. I stayed close for several years, within the province of Ghorium, all to hear news of my dear Kalehm, my son. I knew he was lost to me, but a mother never forgets her children, and as the years flew by word of the young prince became more and more common. I heard tales of his cruelty and ambition, of his poor treatment of those who were less fortunate than himself. His father had already begun a new reign of terror and it only seemed to be worsening as he taught his own twisted values to his heir. I should not have sought out news of the king and the prince, for it shattered my heart anew each time. But something drove me to seek it, and I paid dearly for my curiosity.

When my son reached his twentieth year a distant king, the brother to my husband, traveled from the far province of Oescienne in the west. With him he brought his sons and allies; a massive army to defeat my husband and put an end to his reign of terror. We rallied behind him, myself and the common folk of Ghorium. Only, our king and his son had been planning, building up their own armies and breeding dragons capable of destroying whole villages.

Though the king of Oescienne had dragons to fight by his side as well, they were defeated and slaughtered. It was amid all this horror that I realized my Kalehm had wielded a power no man, elf or dwarf could ever control. Ciarrohn had grown strong within him and had helped him obliterate his enemies.

My husband, the king, died in the great battle as well, but all evidence proved that he had been murdered by his own son, the new king of Ghorium. I did not think my punishment could get any worse. I did not grieve my husband, for he had been a stranger to me for so long. What I mourned was that final thread of hope to save my son snapping when he killed his father and all those who opposed him.

The days and months flew by after the defeat of the king of Oescienne, and my child grew in power, his soul no longer present. He became known as the Crimson King, or the Great Tyrant, because that is what he had become. He took the symbol of the blood rose, our benevolent goddess’s emblem, and adopted it, claiming it to be his own. When the blood of his enemies had spilled upon the great plain below our province, where he had fought his uncle from the west, the roses had grown and he had taken this as a sign. But we, the people of Ethöes, would always know. We would always keep the blood rose sacred, for it was first and foremost the gift from our goddess and not the symbol of violence and death that the Tyrant King had claimed it to be.

After that first war I decided to go into hiding again, living off of the forest in the east and wondering if my son even remembered me. I visited villages seldom, only to prove that there were still people in the world and to pick up a few supplies I could not gather from the forest. My son continued to grow in power, threatening to make war upon the neighboring provinces.

There was a rumor circulating as well, one that turned my blood colder than the day I learned who had overtaken my child. A rumor so horrifying that my dreams became saturated with it. It was whispered among the people of Ghorium that their tyrant king had plans to destroy what remained of the human race, the Tanaan from the west, those who had so readily allowed their sovereign and his seven sons to leave their kingdom and come to die in Ghorium. Ciarrohn was ready to take the next step in eradicating the bond Ethöes had struck between the peoples of her world and their land. He would put an end to the human race once and for all, and leave Oescienne free for his taking. Never mind that it was on the other side of the world, for the humans were weak and they would be easiest to defeat.

I waited in agony as the weeks passed and the rumors became more frequent. The very air was vibrating with the essence of doom and many reports from the castle to the far north only confirmed my fears. My son was creating more of his battle dragons. He was planning a campaign to the west.

We would never see the Crimson King march with his great armies, however, for one month before he was to leave on his great conquering mission, a small band of warriors arrived in Ghorium, led by a young, vibrant man full of passion and vengeance. I later learned that this young man was the eighth son of the king of Oescienne and he had spent the past several years planning a mission of revenge. The poor young fool. But I understood his pain; his need for vengeance. I could only imagine that the love between a son and his father was just as strong, if not stronger, than the love between a mother and a son. Though I yearned for him to return to his homeland where he might be safe for a little bit longer, I could not blame him for what he had chosen to do.

I remember the day the Tanaan fell as if it happened only yesterday. I had left my forest retreat behind and had joined the masses of people who had marched across the plains of Ghorium to witness what they hoped would be the end of my son’s reign. I longed for an end to this tyranny; for an end to the slavery my child was enduring under the control of Ciarrohn, but at the same time I anguished at the thought of his demise. I prayed for the release of his soul while at the same time I longed he would be forgiven. Yet, deep down in the depths of my heart I feared, I knew, that this battle would end in tragedy for all.

I remember it well. The trees were gilded in flame and gold and the autumn air held a chill that always seemed to linger in the province of Ghorium, no matter the time of year. We huddled together, the peasants and common folk, alongside those who had once owned grand houses and titles. We gathered along the edge of the plain like rats awaiting their turn at a carcass freshly caught by wolves. Silence was our cloak, and fear was the shoes we wore. The Tanaan prince led his soldiers and even from our great distance, I could tell that he was propelled by pure fury and purpose. He resembled my husband in his looks and his father who had come and died before him. But he also reminded me of my son, or of who my son could have been had he not been corrupted by the god.

He sat proudly upon his horse, commanding his great army of men and dragons. From looks alone I would have said he had a great chance of defeating my Kalehm, but the Korli dragons did not stand a chance against the army of Morlis, their size and pure brutality no match for the more peaceful kruel of their brethren. As the day turned from dawn, to noon, to dusk, we watched and listened in horror as the great battle dragons burned entire legions and tore to pieces the Korlis charged to aid the Tanaan race of humans. Slowly, those around me crept back towards the forests, their numb terror nearly keeping them from their escape.

I could not leave. I stood there, watching as my child destroyed an entire army of men, dragons and elves. I witnessed the carnage, tasted the metallic tint of blood in the air and smelled the acrid scent of burning flesh on the wind. I forced myself to observe the tragedy, for it was my sentence. Someone had to witness what occurred here; someone had to write it down, to remember it. I was the most appropriate candidate. After all, it was I who had brought this about. Had I not been selfish, had I not fallen for the king’s charms, had I been braver and taken my son and fled, then this would never have happened.

The air was rife with emotion; pain, anger, sheer terror. By sundown I was sure everyone was dead, for the carrion crows were circling and the Morli were backing down, retreating to the north. But I was wrong. As the sun dipped behind the distant mountains, a piercing flash of light rent the air. Blinded, I blinked and sucked in a deep breath. When I regained my sight, I fell to my knees and felt the blood drain from my body. My senses were so numb that, for several moments, I could only feel the pebbles beneath my knees and dirt gathering beneath my fingernails. It felt as if I had fallen into the sea while in a deep sleep and I was struggling to reach the surface.

When my hearing returned to me I gazed off into the distance. There were more dragons than I had seen before, perhaps hundreds or even thousands of them, but they were not Morli, nor were they Korli. They resembled Traagien, that great savior from so long ago. I felt my consciousness slipping away, but all I could hear was screaming, a screaming like no other sound I had ever heard before. It was the sound of a soul being torn from a body, the sound of a mother holding the broken body of her child. I could not bear it. I curled into a ball and rocked myself back and forth, trying desperately to cleanse my ears of that horrible sound. But it was no use, the wails and shrieks of pure hopelessness tore down my barriers, and I fell . . .

-Chapter One-

Getting Away

Jahrra woke to the sound of her own cries, tearing through the pre-dawn air like a wailing banshee flying down a steep canyon. This time the nightmare was worse than before, holding her hostage even though she knew it wasn’t real; keeping her within its own evil world even as she tried in vain to escape. Only after hearing the horrible sounds of the screaming dragons did the night terror release her and allow her to wake. That was when the shouting stopped and the sobbing began.

Jahrra forgot all about her throbbing ankle and aching knee, as well as the deep, late winter chill that had managed to seep into her bones. She had even forgotten about her semequin Phrym, now standing sheepishly aside where he was tethered, lightly whickering in concern as he eyed his suffering master. He knew something was wrong but he could not discern what it was.

Jahrra’s cries were soon joined by the heavy wing beats of some large animal, a dark shadow against the still-black sky. “Jahrra!” a strong voice hissed, “Jahrra, what’s wrong?”

A great Tanaan dragon landed beside her, pulling his wings in before they became entangled in the low oaks dotting the hillside where they had made their camp the night before.

The distraught young woman couldn’t answer him, or wouldn’t. The unfamiliar memories from long ago too near and too real for her to do anything other than fight against the pain. This particular dream had visited her too many times in the past week of travel and it had exhausted her both physically and mentally. More often than not, the dream changed before she woke, scooping up her own memories and pasting them on to the end. Instead of the battlefield rife with screaming dragons, it became Hroombra, crying out in agony before his death. Jahrra shivered and squeezed her eyes shut. How many times did she have to suffer the loss of the dragon she loved as a father? But tonight the terrible screams had shaken her from sleep before she could revisit her own horrifying memories . . .

Jaax scanned the surrounding area, his dragon sight not missing a thing, and when he found no immediate threat he narrowed his eyes and glanced down at Jahrra. He relaxed, then took a deep breath and whispered knowingly, “The nightmare.”

Jahrra simply nodded, clenching her teeth and curling into a ball despite her injured leg. Her tears still came, but she was no longer sobbing so aggressively.

“What did you see this time?” the dragon asked gently, tucking his legs under his body and folding his wings as he lay down in the cramped space next to her. He was careful not to touch her, for he knew she was still fighting the vivid reality of the dream.

Jahrra merely shook her head in answer to his question and closed her eyes. But that action only brought the pictures streaming forward once again. The stone hallways of a cold, desolate castle, a cruel king with empty eyes, an army of terrifying dragons, the smell of blood and the anguish of a mother’s loss. These memories weren’t right; recollections from a past she had no part of, from a lifetime that wasn’t hers . . . Gasping, she opened her eyes again and tried to focus on something else.

“Please talk to me Jahrra,” Jaax pleaded quietly as he curled more securely around her. “I need to know that you are still with me.”

Jahrra was so used to the totalitarian version of her companion that his unusual kindness drew her out. She took a deep breath and regaled the tale to him, her voice trembling during the worst parts. She didn’t bother telling him that the dream seemed to be taking place from her point of view, as if the memories were her own. When it had started worming its way into her usual nightmare regarding Hroombra, it had scared her nearly to death. Had some long dead spirit somehow possessed her, reliving its turbulent past through her dreams?

When she finished, Jaax released a smoke-tinged sigh and said, “I’ve had nightmares as well, different than yours but nightmares nonetheless.”

Jahrra uncurled a bit and looked up at him. “You have nightmares too? Why have you not said?”

A knowing grin crept onto the dragon’s face. “Oh, for the same reason you were reluctant to tell me of yours, I’m sure.”

Jahrra nodded. No one liked to admit their vulnerabilities. Of course, her habit of declaring her night terrors for all those to hear made it harder to keep them to herself. She wondered that if she were to watch Jaax sleep, would she witness some evidence of his own bad dreams? She thought about what else he’d said, about how his dreams were different than hers. Did someone else’s memories infiltrate his nightmares as well?

Taking another deep breath and rubbing her swollen eyes, Jahrra sat up and took in their surroundings. They had been on the road for just over a week (Jahrra’s injury and foul weather creating quite a delay) and so far they hadn’t encountered any of the Crimson King’s soldiers. Jahrra wondered if it was pure luck or if Jaax had been correct in assuming the Tyrant’s minions would have a harder time finding them should they head inland. In either case, she was grateful not to have come across them. Her nightmares and her memories of why they were leaving Oescienne in the first place were bad enough.

Jahrra yawned and moved to stand up, wincing and crashing back down to the ground when she put too much weight on her sprained ankle. The injury she garnered while escaping her attackers outside the Castle Guard Ruin was healing but it still bothered her, especially on these cold nights when she had been sleeping on the hard ground.

Jaax lifted an inquiring eye, quietly asking if she needed assistance.

“I’m fine,” she grumbled as she managed to pull herself upright. “Just a little stiff from the cold is all.” And still a little shaken from her night terrors, but that would pass.

The dragon nodded then watched her disappear into the bushes to make herself ready for the day.

Jaax sighed and contemplated what their next move should be. He had planned on hunting before dawn but the current circumstances changed his mind. Jahrra needed him here despite their awkward friendship, a friendship that seemed only as new as their week-old journey, regardless of the long years they had known one another.

Once the initial numbness of Hroombra’s death had started to wear off Jahrra had become distant and withdrawn, as if she had no will of her own. Jaax had tried everything to keep her mind occupied: pointing out the changing scenery and unfamiliar wildlife as they moved further north and east, telling her old tales in kruelt, asking her about all the details of her childhood that he had missed out on. Jahrra had only answered in shrugs and nods for several days and Jaax had begun to worry. He knew about her nightmares, for he woke nearly every night to the sounds of her terrible dreams, but she never wanted to talk about them.

Sighing, the dragon stood up and stretched, gazing out over the long, wide valley they had climbed above the day before. Glordienn was only a few more leagues to the north of them and the last point of civilization they would see in a long time. One of them would have to venture into that great sprawling city and purchase some much needed supplies. The wilderness could only offer so much and the suddenness of their escape had forced them to leave not as well prepared as Jaax would have liked. He knew Jahrra would have to be the one to make their purchases, and although it made the most sense it still sent fear coursing through his heart. He loathed sending her into an unknown city alone but a hooded figure riding a semequin was not nearly as conspicuous as a young woman escorted by a Tanaan dragon.

Jaax had it all planned out, regardless of his reluctance: they would arrive on the outskirts of the city well before dawn and before the sun had crested the eastern mountains. Before the sprawling rural city had a chance to properly wake up, Jahrra would have conducted her business and would be well on her way, meeting him at the eastern gates. Some dried provisions, water skins, extra travel bags and rope. That was all they needed. It wouldn’t take long to gather such common items and Jaax happened to know of a general store that would carry all four. The traveling bags would cost twice as much there than at the leather smith’s, but Hroombra had saved up plenty in the back room of the Castle Guard Ruin and if it meant a quick and discreet sale, then it was worth it. Besides, this particular store was located on the outskirts of town, very near the eastern gates and away from the busier streets.

The sound of rustling brush drew the dragon’s attention back towards his ward. Jahrra, still looking a little groggy but more alert, stepped back into the clearing, stretching and yawning. Jaax thought her limp seemed less pronounced but he couldn’t say for sure.

“How far will we make it today?” she asked, weaving her long blond hair into a braid.

“Not too far. We’ll travel to the outskirts of Glordienn,” he nodded in the general direction of the large settlement at the base of the mountains, just now appearing in the pre-dawn light, “and then we’ll camp again.”

Jahrra gave him a quizzical look.

“We need supplies,” he continued. “Some rope and food, and extra bags for storing these things.”

“Phrym is already carrying enough,” she said, eyes cast down and voice growing softer.

Jaax grimaced, though Jahrra didn’t see it. “I have plenty of room on my back,” he offered.

Jahrra glanced up, a look of surprise on her face.

“As long as you find some bags with straps long enough to drape over my neck.”

“Me? I have to do the shopping?”

Yes, unfortunately, the dragon thought. “A young woman alone so early in the morning, although unusual, is not nearly as unusual as a young woman and a dragon.”

Jahrra nodded again. Jaax didn’t have to elaborate. She knew exactly what he was implying. If the Crimson King’s men did travel this way, asking questions, they would have a better chance if the people of Glordienn could only report the sighting of a girl and a semequin and not a girl, semequin and a Tanaan dragon.

Jaax sighed, singing the leaves of the closest tree with his hot breath. “We’ll continue along this ridge, then descend a little just above Glordienn and wait through the night.”

“It shouldn’t take us too long to get to Glordienn, maybe half a day,” Jahrra noted, lifting a hand to her forehead as she scanned the wide valley below. “What will we do the rest of the afternoon?”

Jaax grinned. “We’ll think of something.”

As Jahrra had predicted, they crossed the ridge by noon and descended closer towards the city an hour after that. Jahrra suggested they move nearer but Jaax didn’t want to risk being seen. To pass the time, Jaax told her stories of his time spent searching for her. When she asked how many years he had spent looking for the human Ethöes had promised, he merely shrugged and looked away.

“Too many to count or remember accurately,” was his reply.

There was something sad about his tone and Jahrra would have pressed further, only she knew that both of them were doing their best to stay away from morose memories for the time being.

Nighttime came swiftly and after eating a quickly prepared meal, Jaax suggested that Jahrra get some sleep. He watched her shiver for several moments then cleared his throat and said, “You know, there is no point in you freezing every night.”

He lifted the wing closest to her and gestured towards the spot on the ground just beside him.

Jahrra cast him an incredulous look.

Trying his best not to sigh in frustration, Jaax continued, “One of the benefits in having a continual fire burning inside of you is that your skin is usually very warm. Besides, I’ll feel better with you as close to me as possible. No sneak attacks in the middle of the night.”

When Jahrra ascertained that he was being completely serious, she reluctantly moved her sleeping mat and blanket to the spot he had indicated. Jaax had been right. It was like lying next to a low burning fire. Just as she was getting comfortable, he let his wing drop casually to the ground. Jahrra squawked at the sudden darkness of being trapped under a dragon’s wing.

“Jaax!” she hissed, “You’ll suffocate me!”

“I most certainly will not. And who will try and get close to you now?”

Jahrra didn’t like being held captive like some helpless sacrifice under Jaax’s wing, but he had a point. If anyone could even guess that a young girl was sleeping by his side, they would think twice about inciting his wrath. Grumbling to herself and inching as far away from his side as she could, Jahrra fell into a more peaceful sleep.

Jaax woke her an hour before dawn. She changed quickly and saddled Phrym before they began the short trek down the hillside and onto the edge of Glordienn. Jahrra felt immensely better that morning and she realized it was a result of sleeping so close to her new guardian. Peace of mind, she told herself.

The sprawling mountain city of Glordienn was more of a large trading post than a city and all of its buildings were constructed of rough hewn stones and wood; timber gathered from the plentiful trees blanketing the foothills of the Elornn Mountains. The great settlement was partially surrounded by a tall wood pole fence and Jahrra had no trouble finding an entrance as her eyes scanned their jagged points. The gates were open and no one was on guard, something Jahrra found odd but decided was a result of very little traffic coming through at such an early hour. As she and Phrym passed through the welcoming entrance, she noticed that the streets were muddy from the recent rainy weather and the houses and storefronts were dark.

Towards the east side of town and only a few blocks from the gate that would be their exit, Jahrra found the general store. It was the largest building in the area and hosted several wooden signs that listed the variety of goods they sold and traded. Jahrra felt her heart sink, however, when she noticed that the glass adorning the front of the store was dark as well. A sign posted out front stated that the store didn’t open for another two hours. Biting her lip in frustration, Jahrra turned Phrym to begin walking back up the street. She didn’t think Jaax would want her waiting around for that long.

“Excuse me, sir? May I help you with something?”

Jahrra started and nearly frightened Phrym into bolting. There hadn’t been a soul around two minutes ago. She turned, thanking Ethöes for having the presence of mind to keep her hood low. She lifted her hood just enough to see who was speaking, a Nesnan man in the clean suit of a grocer’s assistant.

Clearing her throat and donning what she hoped was a more masculine voice, she said, “Ah, yes, I was hopin’ to make some purchases, but seeing as you’re not open yet . . .”

The young man tilted his head and glanced up and down the street. “If you know what it is that you want, I might be able to make an exception.”

Jahrra felt her heart race. “Yes, I have here a list.”

She pulled the list out of her saddlebag, grateful she had thought to write everything down, and handed it down to the young man.

He reached up, eyeing Phrym with interest. “That’s a fine looking semequin you’ve got there. Where are you from exactly?”

“Um,” Jahrra stalled. Now what was she to do? If she acted gruff and secretive this grocer’s assistant was sure to remember her. But if she were only to give him a name of a place . . . Not Aldehren or Lensterans though. She needed a city where someone might own a semequin like Phrym . . .

“Kiniahn Kroi,” she blurted, almost forgetting to speak in a lower tone of voice.

The grocer’s assistant, who had been scanning the paper and nodding, glanced up with surprise. “Kiniahn Kroi? What a small world this is. I once lived in Kiniahn Kroi. Worked as a servant in one of the nice houses up the north canyon. A wealthy landowner with a pair of twins. Perhaps you know them?”

Jahrra felt her face go slack with shock. Eydeth and Ellysian? Doing her best not to reveal her face, she squinted down into a suddenly familiar face: brown hair and laughing brown eyes. Her memory fought for only a moment but when it found the name, she blurted it without even remembering she was trying to pretend to be a boy.

“Lahnehn?!” she hissed.

Lahnehn jumped back in surprise, allowing the grocery list to fall into a puddle at his feet. “How do you know my name?”

He looked truly shaken, so Jahrra pulled back her hood just enough to reveal her face. “It’s me, Jahrra! Though you probably don’t remember. I came to one of Eydeth’s and Ellysian’s parties and you helped me when I got caught up in a tree.”

The young man eyed her warily for a few moments, then his face lit with recognition. “I remember you! Eydeth enticed you to climb up that canyon wall. You nearly broke your neck!”

He laughed lightly, shaking his head in disbelief. “What on Ethöes brings you to Glordienn?”

Jahrra sobered immediately and pulled her hood back over her head. “A very long story,” she said gravely.

“Well, if you don’t mind regaling it while we seek out these supplies . . .” he grinned and bent down to scoop up the muddy list.

Lahnehn let Jahrra into the back of the store, lighting lanterns and candles as he went. He explained that he was the manager and often came in early to restock the shelves or take inventory. As they scoured the aisles for the items on her list, Jahrra gave him a shortened version of what had happened to her since she left the twins’ house those many years ago. Her voice cracked a little when she told him about Hroombra.

“I’m so sorry Jahrra,” Lahnehn paused in his search for ground pepper and put a comforting hand on her shoulder. “I know how much he meant to you. Even during those few hours we spent together in the kitchen of the twins’ mansion, I could tell that he had quite an influence.”

Jahrra smiled despite the sad memories and continued to help the young Nesnan man seek out spices and dried meats. She had told him much, but she hadn’t told him who exactly she was. She couldn’t. If she was being completely honest with herself, she hadn’t quite accepted the truth yet herself. She still saw herself as a poor Nesnan girl who had a tendency to pick up dragon guardians.

By the time they had everything packed up and ready to go the sun was just beginning to peak over the mountain ridge. Jahrra handed Lahnehn what she owed him, plus a tip for letting her in early. She was reluctant to leave him behind, for even though he had been a fleeting acquaintance from several years ago, he had helped her then and he was helping her now.

“Why did you leave your post at Eydeth’s and Ellysian’s house?” she asked from Phrym’s saddle.

“I grew tired of their uncaring nature towards others,” he answered simply.

Jahrra looked over her shoulder. The town was still quiet but she saw a few lights burning in the windows down the street. If she left now, no one but Lahnehn would have seen her. She turned back to the grocer.

“Come with us,” she blurted, “my, um, friend and I. We’re headed for a far greater city than this.”

She knew it was risky inviting him along without Jaax’s permission or knowledge. The Tanaan dragon would be furious if he knew. Despite their new-found, cautious respect for one another Jahrra couldn’t help but be overwhelmed and sometimes intimidated by the constant presence of her new Tanaan guardian.

Lahnehn shook his head. “No, I’m happy with my new life here. I hope to start a family soon and I’m sure my fiancé would not wish to leave her family behind.”

Jahrra smiled, warmed that this kind person had found happiness.

“But I wish you luck Jahrra, whatever your future might hold.”

Jahrra nodded and straightened in the saddle. She hesitated before pulling her hood back over her head. “Lahnehn?”

The young man turned to look at her once again. He quirked an eyebrow and tilted his head. Jahrra swallowed. “Thank you, for everything. For helping me six years ago and for helping me now.”

He shrugged and grinned. “No thanks are required.”

“But I must ask for one more favor,” Jahrra nearly whispered.

Lahnehn leaned closer. Jahrra took a deep breath and closed her eyes. “Someone might come looking for me, someone who has connections with,” she almost said connections with the Crimson King, but stopped herself. She hadn’t told him the whole truth about Hroombra’s death either, just that someone had attacked and killed him.

She swallowed and tried again, “Those who killed Hroombra, they might come looking for me. If they come here can you act as if you never saw me?”

Lahnehn stepped closer and placed a hand against Phrym’s neck. The semequin whickered softly and pressed his nose against the grocer’s shoulder.

“Jahrra, are you in trouble?” he whispered.

“No, no, not really. My traveling companion is nearby, but he felt it best to stay outside the city boundaries.”

Lahnehn looked truly surprised and worried. “Jahrra, how well do you know your traveling companion?”

“Oh, quite well, I assure you. I’ve known him my whole life,” she assured with a laugh, though the aftertaste of untruth tainted her throat.

If you were being completely honest Jahrra, you would have said you really don’t know him that well at all, she thought bitterly. But that would only worry Lahnehn and although she didn’t really know Jaax all that well, she did trust him, to some extent. Well, she trusted him to keep her alive at least.

“Well then, I swear I will keep your appearance secret,” Lahnehn said, holding up his right hand. “Now you had better go before the people of Glordienn get a good look at you.”

Jahrra smiled and reached down to shake Lahnehn’s hand. “Again, I thank you.”

Lahnehn shrugged and urged her to get moving. The eastern gate was only a few blocks away and as she passed through the wooden arch she glanced back over her shoulder to catch Lahnehn waving her on. She returned the gesture and kicked Phrym into a quicker pace, disappearing into the shade of the forest just before the morning guards took their posts.

-Chapter Two-

Into the Wilderness

Jahrra found Jaax standing behind a group of thick trees a mile outside of Glordienn.

“Were you able to get everything on the list?” he asked.

Jahrra moved Phrym off the road and gestured at the large bags hanging from his neck.

“Did many people see you?”

“No,” Jahrra said, “in fact, I think Ethöes might be watching out for me.”

Jaax cocked a scaly brow.

“The manager of the trading post is a young Nesnan man who used to work for Eydeth’s and Ellysian’s parents.”

The Tanaan dragon sucked in a breath and donned a look of worry.

Jahrra simply held up a hand. “No, you don’t understand. He helped me out of a confrontation with Eydeth once. He has no loyalties to that family.” She looked up at Jaax. “He was the only one who saw me and he swore not to speak of my presence in Glordienn.”

“And did he ask you why?” Jaax growled.

Jahrra glanced down and gingerly slid from the saddle. Her ankle felt better today but she didn’t want to risk upsetting it.

“I told him what happened to Hroombra but I didn’t tell him about you or who I really am. If the people who-” Jahrra paused. She still had trouble speaking of her mentor’s death but if she wished to move on, she had to push the sorrow away, or at least learn to live around it.

After a heartbeat she continued, “If the people who killed Hroombra came looking for me, I asked him to act as if he never saw me.”

Jaax took a breath to say something, changed his mind, and simply nodded. “Very well. We had better keep moving then, before the road becomes crowded.”

He peered up the side of the hill and sighed. “We’ll stick to the hills and the back country, keeping the Raenyan River in sight. Perhaps your sudden luck will follow us.”

They traveled until late afternoon, moving further and further north and deeper into the foothills and mountains of eastern Oescienne. Before nightfall they made camp in a high, secluded clearing. Jaax felt it safe to risk a fire, so Jahrra was able to enjoy roasted meat for the first time in several days.

The next morning was clogged with low clouds and a deep chill. Jahrra arose early and made her way to a tiny spring they had passed the day before. While she was gone, Jaax closed his eyes and mapped out the next leg of their journey in his mind. They would continue moving east, following the river into the Elornn Mountains, passing through the treacherous Raenyan Canyon.

This was where he planned on losing any of the Tyrant’s men, should they discover their trail and follow them. Few who had traveled along the steep, rocky cliffs above the turgid river had ever come out of that wilderness to tell their accounts. Jaax hoped that this would deter anyone who might be after them, or that the canyon’s reputation would cause them to believe it not an option for the dragon and his ward. Jaax knew it was risky but he had been through the canyon before and there were just some things dragons were better at than the other creatures of Ethöes. Making it through the dreaded Raenyan Canyon unscathed being one of them.

The crunch of underbrush told him that Jahrra had returned and he left his contemplating for later. She had braided her hair and changed into a fresh set of clothes but the dark circles under her eyes and her slight limp told him that she wasn’t quite as enthusiastic as he was to get moving.

“Will you be able to keep awake today?” he asked delicately.

Jahrra simply glared at him and gave a sharp nod. “How is today any different than all the other days?”

Jaax grimaced then gazed through the tree branches once again, his eyes narrowing as if he were trying to see something far off in the distance. He took a deep breath, then looked back at Jahrra.

“We’ll be entering the Raenyan Canyon.”

Jahrra crossed her arms and shifted her weight to her good ankle. “So?”

Jaax didn’t fight the grin that graced his mouth. He wondered what could have put her into such a foul mood this morning but it had been so long since Jahrra had behaved as her usual, stubborn self that seeing this small ray of light was a blessing. Even if that ray of light was more of a harsh glare than a warm sunbeam.

“The canyon is notorious for its dangers. I simply want to make sure you are at your best before we start edging along its sheer cliffs while trying to dodge boarlaques, dremmen wolves and sehnnas.”

Jahrra started and cast Jaax a fearful glance. “Are you serious?” she breathed.

The Tanaan dragon merely nodded, his face grim.

“There is no other way?”

“There are several other ways but taking this route is the best chance we have at shaking the Crimson King’s men.”

Jahrra’s shoulders drooped and she cast a glance at Phrym. The semequin stood in the fogginess of early morning, his mottled gray coloring making him seem like a natural part of the landscape.

Sensing her thoughts, Jaax took a weary breath and said, “Don’t worry. Phrym is a semequin. He has a far greater amount of sense and intelligence than any common horse.”

Jahrra still looked worried but then she thought of what Jaax had told her. It made sense to take the unpopular route. Even if the Tyrant’s men marched through Glordienn and Lahnehn kept his word and didn’t tell them of her passing, they could still pick up her trail. But that didn’t help ease her concern over Phrym. If she fell Jaax could always catch her but if Phrym fell or was attacked . . . She shook her head and moved towards her bedroll, silently packing up for their day of travel.

By the time the sun reached midway through the sky, Jahrra and Jaax had started noticing the jagged pieces of granite that made up most of the great canyon of the Raenyan. The river itself, so sluggish and good-natured in the western part of Oescienne, had grown narrow and rapid as they moved further into the mountains.

Jahrra was grateful she was riding and not walking, for if she didn’t have Phrym to rely on she might have stepped right off the narrow trail and plunged to the river hundreds of feet below her. Although the terrain was rough and treacherous, it was the sights and sounds that had her so distracted: rivulets crossing their path and cascading to the canyon floor, great, gnarled trees clinging for dear life to the granite, and the occasional crack and rumble of rocks breaking away and falling all around them. Twice, a sizeable collection of stones crashed into Jaax, forcing his feet to slip. He slid and scrabbled along the rocky incline, flapping his wings to stay balanced while glancing back at Jahrra at the same time.

“Stay back!” he shouted as one especially nasty landslide came to an end.

Jahrra obeyed, fearing he might be swept over the side, but then she remembered all he had to do was spread his wings and soar to another part of the trail. Jaax had told her the only reason he walked at all was to keep an eye on her and to loosen any rocks that might fall and trap her and Phrym against the canyon’s side.

After the first few slides, Jahrra made a point to be a little more focused on where they were going. Only the occasional emerald angler, it’s long, thread-like tail feathers flashing their blue eyed tips in the sunlight, distracted her long enough to cause any potential harm.

They made camp that first night right there on the narrow trail, the river rushing far below them and the sheer granite cliff rising for hundreds of feet more above. Jahrra guessed that the canyon was only a couple hundred feet across, and the opposite side was just as steep as their own.

“You and Phrym will both have to sleep up against me and beneath my wing tonight,” Jaax said as Jahrra watched the setting sun paint patterns on the rocky canyon walls.

Jahrra simply nodded. She still felt strange about the idea of sleeping so close to Jaax but on this trail, in this place, being tucked in against a dragon was probably the only way to keep from rolling off into space in the middle of the night.

It took them three more days to make it through the canyon, a trip that would normally take only a day or two if not for the gorge’s treacherous terrain. That next morning dawned cold and bright, the sound of the river an ever present roar reminding them of how very close death could be. The trail grew rockier and less passable as they climbed into the mountains. Jahrra wondered how Jaax managed to keep his footing at all and encouraged Phrym as often as possible as he maneuvered past loose rocks and slick patches of moss, ice and old snow.

On the third night, Jahrra was torn from her sleep by a horrific cry piercing the darkness. With her heart beating out of her chest, she put a hand out and touched Phrym, a warm mass lying next to her. He let out a quiet, nervous whinny but stayed put.

“Jaax?” Jahrra hissed when the sound carried through the night again.

She wiggled her way closer to his elbow and spoke louder through the opening where his wing tucked against his neck.

“Jaax!”

The dragon exhaled and turned his head so that he could see her. “What is it?”

The roar sounded again, closer, reverberating against the canyon walls.

“What was that?”

Taking a breath, Jaax grumbled, “Boarlaque. But don’t worry, it won’t bother us.”

Jahrra felt a shiver run through her. Hroombra had once told her about boarlaques. They were larger than a bear and had long, wicked fangs and claws meant to tear apart logs and animals that threatened them. She knew they lived in the mountains of Felldreim and Oescienne but she never thought to actually encounter one. She hoped Jaax was right about the creatures not taking an interest in them. Reluctantly, she crawled back to her bed roll, nestled up against Phrym and fell back into an uneasy sleep.

On the fourth day after they started up the canyon, Jahrra noticed that the oaks, sycamores and cottonwoods had left them long behind and now the only trees that dotted the landscape were scraggly, wind-worn pines and spruces. The trail had also flattened out and the cliffs had seemed to recede.

When they crested one last incline in the trail and found themselves staring out into a vast high mountain meadow, Jaax breathed a sigh of relief and said, “We are through the worst of it. Now we’ll follow the Raenyan until it meets the Cornaith and from there we’ll follow that river until it takes us to Lake Růness.”

Jahrra gazed at the wonder before her, noting the large amount of snow that was still upon the ground. They took their time crossing the great meadows for Jaax assured her that they had a sizeable head start on their enemies and that anyone who might be trailing them would easily be seen from this point onward. Many times they stopped to admire the scarlet and blue alpine flowers or to allow Phrym a taste of the new grasses growing where the ground wasn’t covered in ice. The air was chilly but it held the promise of spring. They camped the first night in the wide open and Jaax built up a fire. The stars were so much clearer this high in the Elornn Mountains and guardian and ward passed the time trading the stories of the constellations; the stories that Hroombra had taught them.

It took them several more days of rough travel through finicky, late winter weather in order to reach the Cornaith River, a wide, turbulent rush of water that, according to Jaax, split the Thorbet Range on its race to the great southern ocean. A few days after that the river, if possible, became swifter. Jahrra didn’t notice the sound of booming water until the falls were nearly upon them. When she did, however, she gasped, jerking back on Phrym’s reins. The semequin whickered in surprise but made no other sound of protest.

The falls weren’t tall but they were wide, a great white ribbon pouring from a natural rock dam. Jaax nodded towards what appeared to be an old, narrow trail leading up the side of the small cliff.

“At the top the river smoothes out and widens again, and beyond that, Lake Růness spreads on forever.”

Jahrra nodded, not really listening to Jaax’s words, but when they reached the top of the trail she gasped. The Tanaan dragon had not been exaggerating. The land was flat for a while, pocked with small pools and marshes where the broad Cornaith River didn’t cut a wide course. But a mile or so off she noticed the great expanse of water Jaax had been speaking of. She couldn’t even see the other side of it and doubted she would be able to once they moved closer.

Jaax uncovered an old road that followed what Jahrra could only assume was the point of land highest above the lake when it was at its fullest. Overgrown and seldom used like the other trails they had followed, the road hugged the curves of the small hills that rose above the water, twining in and out of shallow canyons lined with old trees.

That night they camped in one of those small canyons tucked into the hillside. Jaax grunted approvingly at the large rocks scattered about, clearly pleased with their position in regards to the road. They built up a small fire and Jahrra ate wild rabbit, easily caught and roasted by Jaax an hour before. As she settled down for bed the dragon cast her a querulous look and lifted one wing. He had settled closer against the hillside furthest from the road. Jahrra stared at him for a moment and then it dawned upon her.

“Oh, no, it’s alright Jaax. It feels warmer tonight.”

He huffed a breath of smoky air through his nose in reply. “That is not the reason I want you close to me,” he said.

Jahrra grimaced. Was this his attempt at forcing their friendship? She thought they had been getting along quite well, despite the circumstances. Was he angry with her because she had been a bit aloof as they traversed the Raenyan Canyon? She glared at him. If he was going to revert to his demanding ways then she was going to revert to her stubbornness.

The Tanaan dragon frowned for a moment longer then his features melted into a smile. Not a mocking one, but one that held humor.

“I merely wish to ensure your safety. We may be out of the treacherous canyon but this is still the wilderness.”

When Jahrra only blinked up at him, he sighed and let his wing droop a bit. “It’s possible we’ve shaken those who were following us in Oescienne, but now that we’re through the mountains and out of the protection of Raenyan Canyon, we may very well encounter the Tyrant’s men on this side of the province. That and the continued presence of wild animals make me insist you sleep by my side until we reach Lidien.”

And with that he flourished his wing once again.

Jahrra grumbled but obeyed. Jaax was right; they weren’t yet safe. And since she’d been wrong about his intentions she couldn’t very well hold it against him. With a final sigh, she curled up into a disgruntled lump and fell asleep to the rhythm of his breathing and the trickle of ever-present water.

* * *

The time spent following the shore of Lake Růness took far longer than Jaax had anticipated, what with the saturated trail and the occasional late snow flurry to slow them. The lake itself was like a great sea, vast and curving in the distance, reminding her of the shore of the western ocean in Oescienne. Jahrra passed the time in a mixed state of excitement, fear and loss. During their journey through the great Raenyan Canyon, she had been so preoccupied with surviving the steep, rocky mountainsides and avoiding the dangerous wildlife that she hadn’t had room in her harried mind for reflection on anything else. Jahrra wondered, now that she had the time, if perhaps this was part of Jaax’s plan all along.

Taking a short breath, she cast her gaze forward where the great dragon ambled along smoothly, his head swiveling on his strong neck, surveying every tree and every rock as if he expected an adversary to jump out and accost them at any moment. Phrym nickered tiredly and shook out his mane. They had been traveling since before sunup and it was nearing sunset. They would have to camp soon.

“Jaax,” Jahrra said wearily.

“Aye, I know. Soon,” he replied, sounding just as worn through.

Jahrra nodded, even though he hadn’t turned to see her. She found it strange, strange and somewhat comforting, that they had slipped so easily into their understanding of one another. She reached under her coat collar and pulled the dragon scale that hung from the fine chain out to view. She wondered if this token had somehow worked to connect their spirits more closely together for more often than not, they were able to finish one another’s thoughts.

She had spent so many years fighting against Jaax and his personality flaws but in the past month that had all changed. True, the desperation for escape and tragic circumstances hadn’t given them any other choice but to get along, yet Jahrra hoped there was more to it than that. Perhaps Jaax had finally come to terms with having her around for the long run, forcing him to reflect on how he should treat her.

Despite her fanciful musings, Jahrra was still more willing to accept that it was more likely the need for their close companionship during their flight from Oescienne that caused this familiarity; their lives depended on anticipating what the other thought. She dropped the trinket back inside her shirt and allowed herself a small grin. It was too soon for true laughter, but she was amused by the idea of how well she was now getting along with her new guardian. If Gieaun and Scede could see them now . . . Jahrra shook her head. Her two best friends would never believe it and it pained her to think of what she had left behind.

Several minutes later Jaax finally stopped walking. Ahead was a clearing nestled amidst a ring of large boulders and tall pines. A narrow creek wound and trickled down the slope on one side, gleaming over polished stones as it crept towards the lakeshore. Jahrra sighed as she slid from Phrym, her sore legs and backside protesting as she stood leaning against his flanks.

A gentle tug at her hair brought her back from the weariness that threatened to take over.

“I know Phrym, I know.”

Reluctantly, Jahrra began removing his saddle and tack, taking out a curry brush to attend to him before finding a place to tie him for the night. Once her semequin was cared for and happily munching on sweet grass, Jahrra moved over to the center of the clearing where Jaax had gathered several logs and started a fire. He sat facing the lake, acting as a living gate to the opening in the stone ring that led back out onto the path they had been following.

Jahrra plopped down upon a blanket and for a moment almost let her mind sink back to the dark thoughts she’d been chasing away for the past month. If she wasn’t careful the memories of Hroombra’s death forced their way through the barriers she had built only to strangle the breath from her. No, she wouldn’t let them out of that place she kept them, locked away in her mind, at least not while it was still daylight. She was now far away from that tragic place and she wasn’t going to let it haunt her forever. It was bad enough they invaded her sleep, a place where she had no defenses.

She grimaced as that thought hung heavy in the air. Once upon a time she did have a way to fight off the bad dreams but he hadn’t shown himself since Hroombra’s death. No, the hooded figure who often gave her comfort in the world of her subconscious had been strangely absent these past several weeks. She briefly recalled the strange dreams she’d had just after her old guardian’s death, the dreams concerning the fall of the Tanaan humans, dreams that belonged to another . . .

Could the invasive memories of the stranger be a reason for this? Had someone infiltrated her mind, feeding her horrible recollections that had somehow managed to chase away her green clad savior? Jahrra shivered, hoping it wasn’t true. She had feared the recurrent figure when she was a child but as she grew older and faced sorrows she couldn’t deal with in the waking world, he had given her comfort, helping her through the worst of it. She hoped dearly that he wasn’t gone for good, just absent for the time being.

Sighing, she stood up and walked the dozen steps or so to her guardian. “Should I try to find something to eat?”

Jaax shook his head, his eyes still trained on the endless stretch of water that began several yards ahead of them. The sun was setting and its bright rays had turned the dark water to gold.

“No. I’ll hunt in just a while. It’s been a week since I last ate so I’ll catch something big and you can have part of it.”

He turned and glanced at her, his mouth quirking in a small smile. Jahrra frowned. He looked weary, as if their struggle through the mountains of the Raenyan had taxed him more than he was willing to admit. It had been harrowing, she had to admit, but it had been two weeks since they emerged at the base of the eastern Elornn Range to find the ocean of a lake spreading out before them. But maybe it took a dragon longer to recover when they over-exerted themselves.

Jahrra nodded, then turned back to sit beside the fire.

“You should try to get some sleep,” Jaax called over his shoulder. “We traveled far today and we’ll need to travel further tomorrow. I hope to make the headwaters of the Saem River within the week and we cannot do that if we are over-tired.”

Jahrra didn’t argue but fetched her bedroll from beside the log where Phrym had settled for the night, trying not to wonder if her nightmares would return now that she felt a little more relaxed on their new path. She hated the idea of being helpless against her dreams. To be so overtaken by fear felt like weakness and Jahrra knew she had survived too much to become weak now. Jaax had assured her many times she was the farthest thing from fragile, that she had no control over her dreams, but she couldn’t accept that. There had to be a way. For now, she would try to get some sleep and pray to Ethöes and all the other gods and goddesses that her dreams would remain untarnished. But if they had to torment her, then the least the goddess could do was send her green cloaked companion along to help.

A few minutes after settling into her blanket, Jahrra heard the rustle of Jaax’s wings as he left to hunt in the dim twilight. She must have dozed off, because it only seemed a few moments later when the sound of her name startled her. She looked up, blinking away bleariness from her eyes as the dim firelight danced in front of her.

“I saved a haunch for you. It’s roasting over the fire,” Jaax said quietly.

Jahrra craned her neck and caught sight of the deer meat, skinned and nearly ready to eat. Jaax had let her sleep and she hadn’t dreamed. Feeling somewhat rested, she sat up and yawned, reaching for the dagger she always kept beneath her bedroll when she slept. She murmured her thanks and gingerly cut off a piece of the meat. It would be too much to eat but they could leave the remainder of it behind for wild animals.

The night drew on and Jaax took his spot at the opening of the stone cairn, curling up and resting his head upon the ground. Jahrra watched him as he fell into sleep, wondering, not for the first time, who he really was. She thought she knew him well enough and Hroombra had trusted him completely, but there was still so much about this strange dragon she didn’t understand.

She reached for her dragon scale pendant once again, her mouth quirking into a smile as she recalled her thoughts from just a few weeks ago. Would she and Jaax ever be good friends? Would she ever trust him as much as she had trusted Hroombra? She thought about that for a while as the sky grew darker and the fire burned lower. Trusting someone was not examining all of their flaws and secrets and then deciding whether or not they were dependable. Trusting someone was to accept them as they were, follies and all, and to know that, despite their misgivings, they would do their utmost not to let you down.

Jahrra shook her head. Now was not a good time to have such philosophical thoughts. She was willing to admit that she didn’t know everything about Jaax and she was comfortable with that for the moment. After all, he didn’t know everything about her even though he thought he did. Jahrra grinned. In a way she felt like she had the upper hand, for Jaax may find himself surprised on several occasions, but Jahrra had braced herself for truths she may not be able to handle.

Besides, what could be more shocking than learning you were the only human being in Ethöes and destined to free a world from its curse? Nothing, she thought as she smiled and allowed her mind to wander off into sleep, nothing could ever surprise me more than that.

-Chapter Three-

Crie

A few days later and just before it was time to make camp for the evening, Jaax, Jahrra and Phrym turned from the main path that followed the lake and began traveling beside a great sluggish river.

“The Saem River, Jahrra,” Jaax murmured over his shoulder. He motioned his head to the far side of the bank, hundreds of feet away. “On the other side is Felldreim.”

Jahrra thought he still looked weary from their weeks of travel but a spark of excitement lit up his silver-green eyes.

Tilting her head and cocking an eyebrow, Jahrra pursed her lips and waited for him to say more.

Jaax smiled. “We’ll follow this river for another day and then we’ll be in Crie.”

Jahrra twitched in the saddle, causing Phrym to glance back at her in inquiry.

“Crie? You mean, the village where I was found?”

The Tanaan dragon smiled more broadly this time and for a fleeting moment Jahrra thought it suited him but in the very next breath the apprehension she felt returned. The place where she was found, abandoned and parentless, beneath an oak tree. No, beneath Ethöes’ sacred Oak. The wood bead bracelet wrapped snuggly around her wrist seemed to tingle, but Jahrra was sure it was all in her head. She thought about the time she’d touched the sacred Apple Tree, almost a lifetime ago, in Ehnnit Canyon. What would brushing her fingers against the Oak do to her? She shivered and swallowed hard, urging Phrym to move up next to Jaax.

When she bothered to look up at him she noticed he was no longer smiling. He sounded slightly troubled when he asked, “You don’t fear going back, do you?”

“No,” was her automatic response, then she shook her head slightly. “Yes. What I mean is, I don’t know. I’m not afraid, but it, it,” Jahrra seemed to have lost the ability to think.

“It’s daunting nonetheless,” Jaax finished, casting his glance out over the wide river once again. “Returning to a place of great significance after a long absence often causes that exact feeling.”

Jahrra tightened her jaw and nodded. It was precisely as Jaax had said. Though she could not remember Crie, it had still played a major part in her life. It was the very place where her life had begun.

On the second day after meeting the Saem, and nearly a month and a half after leaving the Castle Guard Ruin behind, Jahrra and Jaax found themselves looking down into a quaint little village from the small hill they had just climbed. Jahrra stared, not knowing what to think, as Jaax exhaled behind her, ruffling her hair.

“Crie,” he said, his voice somewhat stoical.

It was a little before noon and the spring sunlight was drifting through the new leaves of the oak, aspen and sycamore trees growing on the shelf of land that stood near the edge of the river, casting emerald shadows upon the forest floor. The tiny settlement of Crie was much smaller than Jahrra had imagined but the strange, beehive-shaped houses reminded her a little of the huts in the fields back at home. The people roaming around below, mingling and setting about their daily chores, were hard to see from this height and distance but the friendly chatter of neighbors greeting one another blended nicely with the rush of the river.

Jahrra wondered if they were all elves but didn’t voice her questions. She turned and looked at Jaax who was studying her the way she had studied the buildings and people below. Sometimes his gaze was too much to bear as if he was trying very hard to see past her outer shell to determine what she consisted of just beneath her skin. Jahrra had grown used to Jaax in the past few months but she wasn’t sure if he was comfortable having her nearby on a constant basis yet. She had a feeling that, habitually, Jaax was a solitary creature.

Jahrra straightened in the saddle once again, her lips drawn tight over her teeth, and tried to convince herself she was reading too much into her guardian’s scrutiny.

“Shall we make ourselves known?” Jaax queried after a few moments.

Jahrra merely nodded, kneeing Phrym forward towards the narrow trail that descended into the village.

It didn’t take long for someone, a young boy playing with a wooden toy, to notice them picking their way down the hillside. He glanced up at the sound of Phrym’s soft nicker, eying Jahrra curiously then dropping his toy as his eyes grew huge. Jahrra didn’t have to turn to know he had spotted Jaax behind her. Everyone had that reaction when seeing the Tanaan dragon for the first time.

The child scrambled off between two houses, calling out to his mother or father along the way. Within seconds of the boy’s departure the rest of the village began to gather around, noticing their visitors. Soon a small murmuring crowd had collected and Jahrra suddenly felt like one of the strange insects she, Gieaun and Scede used to capture and study.

“Raejaax!”

The exuberant shout caused Jahrra to start. An older man was pushing his way through the mêlée, trying to get to them as quickly as he could, his faded brown, fly-away hair giving him a disheveled look. Finally he managed to break through the sea of people to stand before them.

“What in all of Ethöes are you doing here?”

There was laughter in the man’s breathless voice and he was careful not to look too long at Jahrra as he spoke. He obviously knew Jaax but something told Jahrra he wasn’t quite sure about her. Surely he must suspect who she was. Why else would Jaax be traveling with a girl who matched the age of the child they had handed over to him seventeen years ago? Jahrra shook her head. Maybe they didn’t realize just how much time had passed since Jaax took her away.

“Aydehn,” Jaax said.

Jahrra heard the smile in his voice but she glanced back to make sure. It was more of an excuse to escape the eyes of the townspeople than to prove what she suspected.

He took a breath and continued, “Allow me to present Jahrraneh Drísíhn.”

A dead silence ensued. Jahrra suddenly felt very uncomfortable atop Phrym, even more so than she had two minutes ago. She held his reins slack but her knuckles whitened as she tightened her grip. Swallowing several times, she braved a look at the people all staring at her.

A heartbeat or two passed and then everyone did something exceptionally shocking. As if following a silent order, every last villager, from the older man standing in front of them down to the small boy who had run off to announce their arrival, lowered themselves to their knees, their gazes no longer curious but filled with reverence.

Oh no, this was not good. Jahrra tried to say something but the words got stuck in her throat. She turned once again towards Jaax, her eyes saying it all: Why are they doing this? How do I make them stop?

Jaax, curse him, merely grinned and bowed his head slightly, taking a smooth step back as if to detach himself from her presence. Jahrra’s mouth dropped open, both in horror and from a feeling of abandonment. She was utterly alone. This entire village was kneeling before her as if she was a queen and Jaax had left her all alone with them.

Finally, the man who had recognized her guardian rose tentatively, licked his lips, and cleared his voice. He addressed Jahrra without looking her in the eye, something that seemed more disrespectful than the deference he was so obviously trying to display.

“Drísíhn, Jahrraneh, Lady . . .”

He was clearly having trouble deciding what he should call her.

Jahrra opened her mouth to speak, grateful to discover she had finally regained her voice, “Please, call me Jahrra, and please do get up, all of you. You don’t have to treat me like a royal.”

Jaax snickered behind her but Jahrra ignored him. All those days on the road he remained as serious as a headache and now he decided to be in good spirits? When the man continued to stare at her, mute, and when the people of the village remained where they were, Jahrra huffed a breath and swung herself off of Phrym.

“Really, I don’t deserve nor do I want this generous respect. Please, treat me as an equal. It would be better than what I got from some of my peers back in Oescienne.”

Reluctantly, the multitude of people slowly rose to their feet. Jahrra scanned the crowd as they did so, noting that the majority of them were Resai, including the man Jaax had called Aydehn. They hadn’t been far removed from their elvin ancestors, however; she could tell by their features. Some of them may have even been first generation Resai, but Resai they still were.

“Please,” Aydehn said, stepping aside and gesturing, “come join us in the town square where we can hear your story and perhaps tell you a little about your beginning. And you must be tired from your journey.”

Jahrra nodded politely as she pulled Phrym forward. Jaax stepped up so that he walked beside her. To her dismay, the crowd parted to give them space, bowing their heads obsequiously as she passed. All of this was simply too much to take in. It would have been overwhelming enough if they had simply greeted a small village after being alone in the wilderness for so long, but to enter a village and then to be gawked at as if she were some sort of goddess? That was even worse. Jahrra shook her head and considered the dragon walking smoothly beside her. She frowned and moved closer to him.

“They treat me as if I’m of royal birth,” she hissed in Jaax’s direction.

“Yes, and you had best get used to it. We’ll meet several people who will do so; the people of Crie just happen to be the first.”

Jahrra cringed. “You don’t treat me like royalty.”

Jaax smirked but it was more of a grin. “Aye, and I don’t intend to. Besides,” he added with a wicked lilt to his voice, “how can you be so sure it is not I they bow to?”

That made her laugh. True, it was tinged with bitterness and disbelief, but it was still a laugh. She hadn’t laughed since . . . since before Hroombra died.

As they moved through the village, Jahrra felt her unease dissipate. Though the ground they walked on had patches of mud in several places its location was ideal. So long as the river never rose and overflowed the beehive houses would be safe.

Jahrra took a deep breath and let her eyes wander freely. Beyond the river bank she could see several small islands she was sure were one of the reasons for the river’s placid nature. Already some wildflowers had begun nodding their showy heads in the breeze. She returned her focus back on the community sprawling out before her. Several pens had been constructed to hold goats, sheep, ducks, chickens, geese and rabbits. Jahrra eyed the animals with curiosity, wondering how the villagers made use of them. It seemed these people of Crie lived a simple life, even more simple than the life she had led in Oescienne. Jahrra grinned. It heartened her to know she had come from such an unpretentious upbringing. It made the villagers’ initial behavior towards her seem even more ridiculous.

Eventually she and Jaax came upon a great circular clearing near the town’s center where benches were placed all around a soot-stained fire pit. The crowd filled in silently around them like a thick fog rolling in for the evening. But their relative silence was interrupted by the sudden arrival of a woman. She looked like a whirlwind, her white-streaked, chestnut hair coming loose from the braid that trailed down her back. She scanned the crowd and spotted the Resai man who had invited them over.

“Aydehn!” she cried, “What are you up to now? You’re supposed to be milking the goat, not out here lollygagging about . . .”

It was at that moment the woman took note of Jaax. Her eyes widened and she stopped short with a gasp, “Raejaax! What on Ethöes . . .?”

But her eyes had wandered from the dragon and had instead fallen upon Jahrra. For the breath of a moment her hazel eyes were obscure with confusion, but in the very next heartbeat they flickered with realization.

“Drísíhn?” she whispered, her hands moving to cover her mouth.

Before Jahrra could respond the woman was upon her, her eyes brimming with unshed tears. Unlike the other villagers, this Resai woman threw her arms around her and burst into tears.

At first Jahrra was stunned, but instinct won out and she returned the embrace, trying to comfort the woman who was sobbing against her. She smelled like hard work and baking bread and Jahrra had a sudden, sharp memory of her own foster mother.

“Come now Thenya, you’ll frighten the girl,” Aydehn clucked awkwardly as he tried to pull her away.

The Resai woman called Thenya reluctantly released Jahrra but continued to hold her at arms’ length. She sniffed, then drew a sleeve across her eyes to wipe away the tears. “Oh, do forgive me but I haven’t seen you since you were a new born babe. Oh Aydehn, look at how beautiful she is!”

Jahrra felt suddenly discomfited again. If she wasn’t being pinned in place by Thenya’s strong arms she was sure she would have bolted. She took a brave look at Jaax, who had a strange mix of humor and pride on his face. Jahrra blinked in slight shock. Jaax feeling pride towards anyone but himself? Now that was a frightening thought.

“Now Thenya dear, you’ve embarrassed the poor girl. Do release her.”

Jahrra was sure her face was pink, if not crimson, but Aydehn’s words made her blush even more. She wasn’t used to so much attention and she didn’t dare look at her guardian again.

Reluctantly, Thenya let go and backed into the crowd to stand among them. Jahrra cast her a look every so often and got the impression the woman was barely holding onto her desire to fling herself forward again. But Jaax remained by her side, perhaps to keep the eager villagers at bay.

Jahrra snorted inwardly. At least she could count on him for some constancy amid the chaos. This was all too strange and unsettling, going from being a poor Nesnan to the only human being on Ethöes; to being a girl fleeing for her life, to this, an object of worship. But if Jahrra was being completely honest with herself she wasn’t too surprised. The past several months of her life had consisted of one shocking revelation after another and even on those days that Jaax was bothersome, it was nice having him nearby if only to explain things to her later.

The entire community eventually dispersed after an encouraging announcement from Aydehn in which he promised they would all get a chance to spend time with her later. Jahrra shivered at that. She wasn’t sure if she would be required to sit and greet everybody, one at a time, or if she would be allowed an hour’s rest before they returned to gather about her like bees around a patch of lavender.

As the people of Crie got back to their chores most of them made an effort to cast Jahrra one last glance of awe. She tried to ignore it but it was a bit hard and she worried that they might not even give her an hour before seeking her out once again.

The sound of Aydehn’s voice, close but spoken at a normal level, snapped her out of her thoughts. “How long will you be staying with us Raejaax?”

Jaax furrowed his brow. “No more than a week. There is a strong chance that we are being hunted and the sooner we get to Lidien the better. Besides,” he said heavily, “the longer we stay here, the more damage we could bring upon you.”

Aydehn nodded grimly then took a deep breath, “Best we take you to the Tree before you leave then. The day before you depart perhaps? That will give you time to rest from your long journey.”

Jahrra felt her heart skip a beat. She looked to the woman who had so openly embraced her earlier only to find her smiling with great joy. She glanced at Jaax, who looked solemn as ever. He gave her a curt nod when he saw the question in her eyes: the Tree? The Sacred Oak of Ethöes?

“But for now we must find you a place to rest.” Aydehn arched a brow at Jaax, smiling comfortably. “Ah, I’m afraid we don’t have any huts big enough for you Raejaaxorix, but surely we can offer Drísíhn, ah, I mean Jahrra, a room for the week?”

Jaax shook his head. “We thank you for your hospitality but we are happy to camp just along the edge of the village.”

“Are you sure?” Aydehn asked, eying Jahrra to try and gauge her opinion.

Jahrra would have liked having a roof over her head but when she glanced at Jaax, the hard look in his eyes warned her not to argue. Releasing an infinitesimal sigh she smiled weakly and nodded.

“Very well, if that is what you wish. There is a nice little alcove tucked into the hillside just to the south of my own home with several trees surrounding it. I think it’s big enough to accommodate you Jaax and there is even a small ring of stones set up for a fire.”

He grinned mischievously and lowered his voice, addressing Jahrra, “It’s where the young men like to camp out after a great hunt so they can boast freely about their exploits without annoying the young women with their foolishness. I’m sure the exaggerated tales would be enough to make the youngest of our girls roll their eyes.”

Jaax cocked a brow. “Speaking from experience Aydehn?”

The Resai elf barked out a hearty laugh and slapped Jaax just below the shoulder. It was a friendly gesture but Jahrra half expected her guardian to growl, or at least scowl, but all he did was smile.

“Absolutely!” Aydehn declared. “What is the point in retelling hunting tales if one cannot make them as outrageous as possible?”

Jahrra smiled and felt her tense muscles loosen a little. Aydehn wasn’t so bad and she was sure the rest of the Resai in Crie were just as friendly and accommodating. Think about it Jahrra, she told herself, if you were in their place, wouldn’t you gawk if the human found abandoned in your village returned out of the blue after seventeen years?

With that thought to ease her mind, she followed Aydehn and Jaax back through the village, a weary Phrym following faithfully behind.

* * *

The night they arrived in Crie Jaax and Jahrra decided to decline Aydehn’s invitation to join the villagers around the communal fire.

“We’re quite weary and I think everyone has had enough excitement for the day,” Jaax told him as Jahrra sought out a soft patch of earth to lay her bedroll.

At the elf’s dismayed cry Jaax continued, “That being said we would be more than happy to join you tomorrow night if it is your wish.”

“Very well,” Aydehn conceded, “though I’m sure Thenya will hound me through the rest of the night.”

“Surely she will,” Jaax answered in good humor.

Aydehn mumbled something else as he traipsed off down the narrow trail they had followed to reach this secluded, yet nearby spot.

Jahrra sighed and threw her head back to look up into the trees. She could see now why the young men would want to camp here after a hunt. It was just far enough away from the village to offer some privacy but close enough in case those camping here needed help for any reason. The rocky hillside curved gently, offering a shelter from the wind, and the interlaced branches above would keep them dry should it rain.

A whooshing sound and the familiar crackle and scent of a fire drew Jahrra’s attention away from her thoughts. As she had been daydreaming Jaax had gathered up a sizeable pile of wood and had started a fire within the small ring of rocks.

Jahrra finished with her bedroll, shot a glance at Phrym to make sure he was content, then plopped onto her blankets, crossing her legs and resting her elbows on her knees. She tilted her head and glanced up at Jaax. He was watching her, just as she’d presumed. She set her jaw and refused to be the first one to look away, or to speak. After a whole minute she gave up, sighing and resting her eyes on the fire instead.

Eventually she heard her guardian release a sigh. “What have I done now?”

She barely kept herself from grinning. Instead she shrugged and, still watching the fire, she said, “You could have warned me.”

When she looked at Jaax he was frowning in confusion. “Warned you?”

Jahrra spread her right arm, gesturing in the direction of Crie. “You know, about how I would be received here. The, um, overwhelming adoration.”

“Ahhh,” Jaax said, and now he was smiling. “I honestly wasn’t sure how they would accept you Jahrra, truly.”

He sounded forthright so Jahrra let it drop, sort of. “Well, you had to have some idea that it might be like this.”

He was shaking his head. “I knew that Aydehn and Thenya would be delighted to see you but I didn’t expect everyone else’s . . . reaction.”

“Why were Aydehn and Thenya so glad to see me?” Jahrra placed both her hands behind her and leaned back on her arms.

“Because they were the couple that took you in when you were first found. It was Thenya who last held you before you were strapped to my neck.”

A strange feeling passed over Jahrra then and she looked away from Jaax. How strange it was to hear about your life when you were far too young to remember those who had loved you. When you were too young to appreciate what they were giving up.

Jahrra let out a breath and to her surprise, it carried a wave of emotion. “Jaax,” she said quietly, “did you have to take me away from here?”

He was quiet for a long time, only the crackle of the fire, the sounds of the village winding down for the evening, and the soft breathing of Phrym just paces away to break the silence.

“I mean,” Jahrra continued after clearing her throat, “I mean, I’m not saying that I’m sorry that you did, but really, simply out of curiosity, could you have left me here? Come to visit me here instead of at the Castle Guard Ruin? What I’m asking is, why was Crie not where I was meant to be, especially with the Oak being here?”

Jahrra finally looked at Jaax, only to find him giving her one of those beneath-the-surface looks. Eventually, he too looked away, off into the trees, seeking some imaginary answer to her question perhaps.

“Because of Hroombra,” he finally said, so quietly she almost missed it. “Hroombra couldn’t have traveled here, as you well know, and he needed to see you, to know you were real, to have a say in your upbringing.”

Jahrra looked Jaax straight in the eye, her own eyes prickling with unshed tears. For once she dared to ask him a question she wouldn’t have had the temerity to ask him before they were thrown together on this crazy adventure: “Why?”

Jaax looked at her again but this time it seemed he had finally found something just beneath her skin, something that perhaps he’d been looking for all along.

“Because no one else in all of Ethöes could have raised you to be as strong, as bright or as understanding of the plight of those suffering in this world than Hroombra. And I can see before me without a doubt that you were, and are now, exactly where you should have been and where you should be.”

It took a few moments for Jahrra to sort through the dragon’s words but when she did their core meaning shocked her into silence. Jaax had just paid her an extraordinary compliment and she had no idea how to respond.

So, instead of babbling some nonsense in an attempt at awkward appreciation, Jahrra remained quiet and the two of them spent the next several minutes just sitting in silence, absorbing the cadence of what had just passed between them as the sounds and smells of twilight merged with the rush of the Saem River. Jaax didn’t feel burdened by her presence, Jahrra could see that now. And furthermore, she realized that she actually cared. This revelation left her feeling warmer, as if the ice around her heart after Hroombra’s death had started to melt. Jahrra sighed and smiled at Jaax, the only thanks she could muster. His returning grin and slight nod acknowledged that he recognized her gratitude.

Eventually, exhaustion from the long day won over and Jahrra collapsed upon her bedroll and for the first time in two months she was not afraid of falling asleep. For some reason or another, she didn’t think the nightmares would be troubling her tonight and perhaps, never again.

-Chapter Four-

A Guided Tour and a Day of Mischief

Jahrra was famished the next morning and for once it was her stomach that woke her up and not Jaax or some horrible replaying of her memories. When she opened her eyes she was surprised to find only Phrym standing above her, gazing down with his smoky eyes as if to inquire about breakfast. When all she did was blink at him, he nudged her with a velvety nose, rumbling as he did so. Jahrra laughed and pushed him away.

“Alright,” she grumbled good-naturedly. “You don’t know where Jaax went, do you?”

Of course he only stared at her then dragged his hoof into the leafy earth. The gleeful shouts of children playing and the sharp tang of smoke filled the air. Jahrra found a clean set of clothes and ducked behind a niche in the alcove to change. Once she had her boots on, she slipped Phrym’s bridle over his forehead and led him down the narrow path that wove through the trees.

As she walked Jahrra thought about how nice it would be to stay in single place for more than one night. Her ankle and knee were finally healed, the bruises having disappeared a few weeks ago, but on cold, foggy mornings such as this one they were sometimes stiff. By the time she reached the outskirts of the village, however, she felt like she could run a mile.

Pale gray plumes of smoke rose from several of the huts scattered about the village of Crie and even more young Resai elves dashed around, chasing chickens and wayward livestock as their dogs barked merrily behind them. Jahrra couldn’t help but smile. It reminded her very much of home. The adults, looking groggy and a little ruffled, moved about more slowly collecting eggs or milking goats. Some looked to still be in their sleeping clothes as they scurried after the children in order to drag them back to finish their chores.

As Jahrra scanned the scene before her she caught sight of Jaax talking to Aydehn. She took a deep breath and started walking in that direction, half afraid she would get mobbed again. Phrym followed behind her like a loyal dog as she made her way down the center of town.

More than half of the Resai stopped what they were doing to watch her but to her profound relief, no one stood up to follow. She took this chance to study them. They all had hair in one shade of brown or another and the pointed ears she had grown so familiar with back home. The one thing she noticed about these people was their height. On the whole, they were shorter than the Resai elves in the southern part of Oescienne and their features were softer, not as angled. She wondered why but didn’t think too long on it because her very next step brought her before Jaax and Aydehn.

“Well good morning to you Jahrra!” Aydehn proclaimed. “Sleep well?”

“Yes I did,” she replied.

“I’m very pleased to hear it. You must be hungry. Would you like to join me and my wife for breakfast?”

Jahrra glanced at Jaax and he nodded. “I won’t need to eat for a few more days and I think it would be a very good idea for Jahrra to get to know you better.”

Gulping down her nerves Jahrra said, “Alright. But Phrym needs breakfast too.”

“Of course!” Aydehn said. “Emrel! Could you come here for a moment?”

A young Resai man, perhaps ten years older than Jahrra, stepped out of the hut just on the other side of Aydehn’s.

“Yes uncle?” he asked.

“Have Thera and Romm take Jahrra’s semequin to the mid-pastures so that he may graze.”

Emrel glanced at Jahrra, then his eyes widened.

“Of course,” he murmured as he ducked back into his home.

“My dear nephew,” Aydehn said with a little sadness. “His wife died almost six years ago while giving birth to their third child. Little Phaea survived but Emrel has never quite got over it.”

Jahrra frowned in sympathy. She knew what it was like to lose a loved one.

The door of Emrel’s hut flew open and two children, Thera and Romm Jahrra presumed, came bustling out, pulling on boots and coats. Thera, who looked to be around the age of twelve, had tied her long brown hair back into two ponytails while Romm, a few years older, was rubbing his hands together to fight the chill. Both of them looked at Aydehn.

“Papa says there’s a semequin out here. Is it true?” Thera’s eyes lit up with delight.

“See for yourself,” Aydehn said with a grin, gesturing towards Jahrra. “You weren’t here yesterday during the grand arrival of Jahrraneh Drísíhn.”

That statement seemed to surprise both siblings and they gawked at Jahrra as if she had turned a brilliant shade of magenta.

Romm cleared his throat and lowered his eyes, “It’s an honor to meet you.”

Thera seemed unable to speak.

“I’m glad to meet you as well. But you don’t have to take Phrym for me, if you just show me where to go . . .”

“Nonsense!” Aydehn said. “Come now children, don’t be shy!”

Casting a wary glance at Jaax, Thera stepped forward and took Phrym’s lead rope. Jahrra was worried he might not like someone else taking him away but all he did was ruffle Thera’s hair with his nose. The girl laughed and Jahrra smiled.

“We’ll bring him in at the end of the day with the other horses,” Romm said, giving Jahrra one more reverent glance.

She fought the urge to squirm.

Aydehn nodded and turned to Jaax. “We have a nice stable near the river where we keep our horses at night. Several stalls are empty at the moment, for some of our young men have gone on a long hunting venture and probably won’t return until after you’ve left.”

He sighed. “They’ll be well put out when they learn you were here.”

He shrugged and looked at Jahrra. “So, how does scrambled eggs and fresh trout sound young lady?”

In response, Jahrra’s stomach growled and she felt her cheeks grow pink. Aydehn only laughed and waved her in.

“I think I’ll stretch my wings for a while. Besides, it wouldn’t hurt for me to scout the forest,” Jaax said as he turned to leave.

Jahrra felt uncomfortable with the idea of Jaax being out of reach for more than an hour but she fought down her unease and only nodded before disappearing into the hut. The interior was rather spacious compared to the outside and consisted of one great room with bunks built into the wall just below the roof. The floor consisted of flat slate stones pieced together carefully with a stone fireplace resting inside one of the walls. A frying pan sat perched atop a flat rock while several trout hung spitted above the flames. A tea kettle was steaming off to the side and beside the fireplace Jahrra spotted a crevice in the wall that acted as an oven. The smell of dust, roasting fish and leather mingled nicely together and for a while she was reminded of the tiny cottage she lived in when she was a small child back in Oescienne.

“It isn’t much, I know, but we don’t require much so we are content,” Aydehn said, clasping his hands behind his back as he surveyed his home.

Jahrra glanced around once again, noting the plaster walls and the few windows that let in just enough light. She was impressed with the glass panes and wondered if they’d fashioned them themselves.

“It’s wonderful,” she murmured.

“Thenya is just out collecting eggs but the tea should be ready and the fish is nearly done.”

He gestured to a small table with four wooden chairs and Jahrra sat at his invitation. A few moments later Thenya stepped in, her apron turned into a pouch that held several brown eggs. When she spotted Jahrra sitting at the table with her hands wrapped around a steaming mug of tea, she nearly dropped her bundle in surprise.

“Oh Aydehn! Why didn’t you warn me she was here?”

The woman was short, like all the others in Crie, but moved about briskly as if she were constantly on a mission to round up a group of misbehaving toddlers. Her russet hair, streaked with white, was tucked under a scarlet scarf and her hazel eyes sparked with vigor. She cast her husband an exasperated look as she bustled over to a great stone basin acting as a sink.

“She has just awoken my dear and you were out tending the chickens,” Aydehn answered matter-of-factly.

His wife muttered something unintelligible as she unloaded the eggs carefully into the sink. When she finished, she wiped her hands and turned to face Jahrra.

“Oh, I still cannot believe you are here! The way Raejaax carried you off last time I was sure I would never see you again.”

Jahrra thought she saw tears in the woman’s eyes but figured she had too much self control to let them spill free.

“We were very sorry to hear about Hroombramantu,” she murmured as she returned to her eggs, cracking them one at a time in a clay bowl. “He was a good friend to us.”

Jahrra ducked her head in acknowledgment. “Thank you,” she said, trying to keep the emotion out of her own voice. She felt slightly awkward sitting here among strangers, strangers who had worried after her since birth.

Eventually Aydehn cleared his throat then leaned forward on the table and said, “So, why don’t you tell us about your life? It will help us to get to know the person we let go of so long ago.”

He grinned, a twinkle in his eye. Jaax had explained why he’d taken her to Hroombra but Jahrra was wondering if Aydehn and Thenya knew the reason.

Shrugging slightly and pushing those thoughts from her mind, Jahrra began her tale, doing her best to relay the past seventeen years of her life to her hosts. She didn’t focus on the sad memories but she did mention her parents’ deaths, then gave them a quick summary of her time at school and her summers spent making mischief with her two best friends.

“You must miss them dearly,” Thenya said as she carried the scrambled eggs and trout to the table.

Jahrra was encouraged to help herself and as they began to eat she shrugged, dismissing the bubble of sadness that welled up in her throat. “I do miss them. But I couldn’t stay, not after what happened, and we couldn’t risk letting them know too much. Still, I wish I could talk to them again, at least once.”

Thenya placed a warm hand on Jahrra’s. “I hope someday you’ll be able to dear.”

After breakfast Jahrra was given a tour of the town. As soon as they stepped out of Aydehn’s hut a small girl with wild hair ran towards her, her dark brown eyes alit with joy and wonder.

“Pa says you have a semkin,” she squeaked.

Jahrra looked to Aydehn for help. He only smiled, something he did often if she judged by the wrinkles gathered around his mouth and eyes.

“This is Little Phaea,” he said, “and I believe she is inquiring after Phrym.”

The child clung to Jahrra’s leg, waiting for a reply. Jahrra grinned down at her. “Hello Little Phaea. I do have a semequin, his name is Phrym.”

Her eyes grew wider. “You’re very tall.”

That wasn’t the response Jahrra had expected but she laughed and patted the girl on the head. “Yes, I believe I am.”

“Can I see Phrym?” she asked.

“When he comes home from the fields with the other horses, I’ll go visit him. And you can come with me.”

The girl’s eyes, if at all possible, grew even wider.

Aydehn was laughing. “You’ve earned yourself a new shadow Jahrra. I don’t think Phaea is going to let you leave her sight from now on.”

They spent the remainder of the day strolling through the small village, stopping every now and again to talk with those who were taking a break from their chores. Jahrra learned much about the Resai of Crie in those few hours. She discovered that they depended upon the land around them to supply food and shelter and that they were very loyal to Ethöes. Aydehn reminded her they lived a plain but honest life. She couldn’t argue with that.

They ate lunch around noon, sharing the meat of a young deer that had been brought in early that morning. Jahrra was grateful that the elves’ initial curiosity and awe had worn off and she easily became accepted as an honored guest, but not so honored that people were afraid to talk to her.

There were many children in the village, most of them either very young or a few years older than herself. Regardless of this fact, once lunch was finished she was dragged off by a large group of boys and girls to be shown the more exciting sights and wonders of Crie. Aydehn promised they meant no harm so with a shrug of her shoulder and a last glance towards the dome-shaped huts, she allowed the giggling children to lead her away.

The first thing they showed her was the mid-pastures where they took the horses to graze, a vast flat meadow located near the center of the river.

“It is shallow on this side and we walk them across,” a boy of about nine, Nerrid, told her. “That way they stay put and the predators can’t hurt them.”

“What kind of predators?” Jahrra asked, her curiosity getting the better of her.

They were all perched upon a low hanging limb of a sycamore tree, watching the horses graze happily as the river flowed gently below them.

“Oh! Lot’s Miss!” Kerra cried.

She was the same age as Nerrid, her pale brown hair as curly as the branches of a corkscrew willow and her face dusted with freckles.

“We’ve got boarlaques, though they don’t come down this low that often, and mogrums; dremmen wolves and igidons sometimes, Saem River water cats . . .” she prattled off.

“You don’t have to worry about the river cats though,” Nerrid interrupted. “They’re only interested in fish.”

Jahrra shivered, half worried about the daunting list Kerra had just given her; half eager to see the animals she’d named. Hroombra had told her about them, of course, and showed her pictures that she’d copied into her journal. But seeing them in the wild would be a rare treat.

“We already encountered a boarlaque,” she said and watched the eyes of all the children grow wide with wonder. “But we only heard it at night.”

“You are lucky then,” an older girl, Orella, murmured. She was the closest in age to Jahrra, just a few years older, but she was extremely shy.

Little Phaea squeaked and wrapped herself around Jahrra’s arm.

“Don’t worry Phaea. I had Jaax to scare it off if it got too close.”

The conversation then turned and everyone began asking her about the Tanaan dragon.

“Have you ever flown with him?” one of the boys asked.

“What color fire does he breathe?” Kerra begged, “I hear the different dragon kruels each breathe a different kind of fire.”

Jahrra answered each of their questions patiently and to the best of her knowledge, for some of the things they asked she didn’t know.

“How old is he?” Little Phaea wanted to know.

Jahrra paused. How old was Jaax? She never really thought too much about it, as strange as that seemed. She furrowed her brow as they climbed down from the tree branch.

Once everyone was safe on the river bank she crossed her arms and said, “I’m not quite sure. Not as old as Hroombra was, and he was very old, but older than me.”

That seemed to satisfy Phaea’s curiosity and the next thing Jahrra knew they were hauling her off to see the next wonder of Crie.

The children next took her to a grove of trees they called tofah. Jahrra was surprised when she spotted not only new leaves and buds covering the branches but clusters of deep purple fruit as well.

“They produce fruit all year round,” someone said. “You must try some Lady Jahrra.”

Ignoring the honorific, she accepted a handful of the fruit.

“Careful, it stains,” Nerrid warned.

She took a tentative bite and the flavor of plums and cherries flooded her mouth.

Once they had their fill of the tofah fruit they climbed deeper into the hills.

“Aydehn said we can take you as far as the falls,” Kerra puffed as she climbed up a steep canyon, “but no further. He says there are Red Hunters about.”

Jahrra paused, breathing hard with the rest of them. They’d been climbing this narrow canyon for a good half hour and despite the heat of the relatively warm day, she felt a sudden chill. It could have been the result of the mist being churned up by the narrow creek flowing past them, but Jahrra doubted it.

“Red Hunters?” she asked when they noticed she had stopped walking.

Kerra nodded solemnly. “They come around every now and again, though we haven’t seen them since I was newborn.”

“They are the bad men who killed my mother,” Orella murmured quietly, her eyes cast downward.

Jahrra didn’t have to press further to guess as to who employed the Red Hunters. Red: the Crimson King.

“But don’t worry,” Kerra piped, “we haven’t seen any since that last time. Aydehn is just being cautious.”

They continued on with their trek, Jahrra doing her best to shake the sudden feeling of foreboding that clung to her like a bad smell.

Luckily, fifteen more minutes of climbing brought them to a sight that dashed away all dreary thoughts. The narrow trail and creek abruptly ended and before them, in the bowl of the canyon, stretched a deep and wide pool, a healthy ribbon of water streaming into it from the top of the ridge. The hidden gem was surrounded by old growth oaks and rocks blanketed in thick moss. Jahrra felt her mouth drop open.

“Brave enough to jump?” Nerrid asked, his skinny arms crossed over his chest, his head inclined towards a shelf of rock some twenty feet up the side of the fall.

Jahrra felt her mouth tug into a mischievous grin. She plopped down onto the nearest rock and started to remove her boots. The day was warm enough that her clothes would dry on the way back to Crie so, still fully clothed, she held out her arm and grinned.

“Lead the way,” she said and the pack of eager children began the final climb up to the rock shelf.

By the time they arrived back in Crie it was early twilight and Jahrra and her companions were still damp from their swimming. Jaax was waiting when they finally showed up, his every muscle wound tense, his jaw unyielding and his eyes like stone.

Jahrra had been laughing, sharing a joke with her new companions, but when she spotted her guardian glaring at her from the edge of town, her merriment vanished and she froze. She had had such a good time that she had almost forgotten everything they’d been through in the past few months. When she looked her guardian in the eye, however, he seemed to warm just a fraction. Despite that tiny improvement, Jahrra had a feeling she wasn’t going to like the coming encounter with her guardian. Taking a deep breath she started walking once more, ready to face whatever it was the dragon was about to throw at her.

Jaax had returned a few hours earlier, only after he was completely satisfied they hadn’t been followed this far yet. Aydehn had told him Jahrra went exploring with some of the other children and although he was irritated at first, he controlled his temper and nodded. It would do her good to discover some diversion while they were here. But as the day drew to a close and darkness began to set in, it took every ounce of his self-control not to leap into the air and begin searching for her. Didn’t she realize how dangerous it was to be out in the wilderness alone?

Aydehn and his fellow villagers had reminded Jaax that Jahrra wasn’t alone but it hadn’t done any good. If he wasn’t careful he would end up burning Crie to the ground in his anger. It was only a few minutes ago that he’d made up his mind to go looking for his lost ward. Of course that was when she finally decided to return, laughing and looking completely at ease just as he reached the edge of town. His anger boiled hotter and the only reason he kept himself from demanding answers from her was because he knew his words would release themselves in the form of fire.

Reining in his rage, Jaax took a deep breath and opened his mouth to speak but before he could he took note of what he had noticed about Jahrra. She was laughing. She was laughing and an aura of happiness was pouring from her like water through a sieve. Just like that his anger, his fear, his irritation, all melted away. But not before she caught sight of him, towering above her like a thundercloud seeking out some wayward tree to strike with its lightning.

“How could you stay out so late?” Jaax had meant for it to be a demanding question. Instead it came out as a harsh whisper.

Jahrra gaped, the small crowd of Resai children stone still and silent as death. After a while she managed to compose herself. Tossing back several strands of wet hair, she crossed her arms and stood up tall, head and shoulders above her newfound friends.

“You left this morning without so much as a word about when you would return,” she said, her voice steady but tinted with anger.

Jaax snorted. “Did you think I wasn’t coming back?”

Jahrra’s face flushed with anger and annoyance. Arrogant dragon! She didn’t appreciate the sarcasm in his voice but instead of continuing to argue, much as she wished to, she sighed and let her anger flow away. It would be inappropriate to bicker with her guardian in front of the entire village, for now half the town had gathered to witness this confrontation.

“I know you're a dragon Jaax but has it ever occurred to you that I worry about you sometimes?”

The look that crossed Jaax’s face was so alien to her that she almost didn’t recognize what it was. He was absolutely dumbfounded, she could tell, for the stone and steel had left his eyes and even his wings, so regally perched above his back, seemed to wilt.

“Yes, I do worry because I know now that dragons are not invincible.”

She almost choked on the words as a lump of emotion rose in her throat. It was mostly due to the memory of Hroombra but part of it, Jahrra had to admit to herself, was the side effect of letting go of her pride. It was difficult to admit to Jaax that she harbored such weakness; to concern herself over a dragon and this dragon in particular.

Jaax released his pent up breath and took several steps forward, his rigid continence fading completely once he reached Jahrra. The village children, not wanting to get between them, shuffled their feet and slowly dispersed, seeking their own homes and parents.

Lowering his head to her level, Jaax spoke so that only Jahrra could hear him. She stiffened, thinking he was going to dish out another angry rebuke but to her surprise his eyes softened even further as he said, “I’m sorry Jahrra.”

That was all she needed to hear. Keeping her arms crossed, she nodded stiffly, acknowledging his own sacrifice of pride. It was a step in the right direction. It wasn’t a big step, but it was a step just the same.

Aydehn must have deemed it safe to approach them for his genial voice sounded closer than the noises of the village.

“Come now, everyone is back home safe! Jahrra, you must come dry yourself by the fire and Jaax, would the two of you like to join the village for dinner?”

Jahrra allowed herself to be led away and before too long she and Jaax had joined a large group around the communal fire. Jahrra’s friends braved Jaax’s presence and came to sit beside her, laughing and telling the great dragon about their activities that day. Jaax seemed pleased to hear Jahrra had had a good time. After their meal of wild boar, turkey and early meadow greens several of the villagers brought out flutes and other wind instruments and started to play quiet melodies while others told stories to the backdrop of the crackling fire. The river, only yards away from them, slurred and chuckled in the background.

By the time Jaax and Jahrra were once again settled in their campsite it was well near midnight. Jahrra murmured goodnight to Jaax, then curled up on her bedroll and fell fast asleep, both her mind and her body exhausted from the excitement of the day.

* * *

The next few days were, in one way or another, a repeat of that first full day in Crie with Jahrra taking breakfast with Aydehn and Thenya then wandering off to play with the children or help with chores. Their games were similar to the ones she played as a child; hide and seek, tag, skipping rocks . . . She had great fun, despite the fact that she was perhaps a little too old to be playing such games.

One morning she collected Phrym from the stable before he could be taken to the middle pastures. That day, her young friends took her to a relatively open meadow where she could gallop Phrym without worrying about low branches or stray rocks. When Jahrra offered to give everyone a ride she became an object of worship once more.

“Really?!” Little Phaea asked, her brown eyes wide with wonder again. “A real ride on a semkin?”

Jahrra grinned. “Yes, and you shall be the first to have a turn.”

She reached down from Phrym’s saddle and pulled the tiny girl up in front of her. When Jahrra had first led Phrym out for everyone to meet he’d eyed them all with curiosity, giving each of them a nudge with his nose as he sniffed around for treats.

Now, as they went trotting through the sun-bathed meadow, the sound of Phaea’s delighted squeals met with the pounding of hooves and cheering of children. It was a fine day and Jahrra didn’t want it to end.

On the fifth night of their stay, as they gathered around the large bonfire, Aydehn cleared his throat and said to Jaax, “I have received word today that there is a shipping barge coming through in two days’ time. It belongs to a cousin of mine who makes a living trading goods between Lidien and the cities of the Lake Islands.”

Jaax listened intently, the orange glow of the fire playing against his sharp features.

“It’s a rather sizeable barge and my cousin has written that the trade has been light this run. He always makes a stop here, for often times we have a few items to barter with and he is always glad to visit me and I him. But what I’m trying to say is would you be interested in hitching a ride for the remainder of your trip? The barge goes directly to Lidien from here . . .”

Jaax was already shaking his head. “No. It’s too risky. If trouble should arise we would be confined to one spot. A moving target, yes, but from what I know of freight ships they are very slow, especially on the Saem. Maneuvering past all the sandbars and islets would delay the trip considerably.”

“Yes, I understand,” Aydehn continued, fiddling with his shirt, “but you see the advantage would be your trail would end here. If the Crimson King hunts you this far, his men will not know where to go from here.”

Jaax actually looked like he was considering it but Jahrra couldn’t say for sure.

“A barge would never hold my weight,” he finally said.

Aydehn just grinned, the light of the fire glinting off his teeth. “Oh no, you are wrong my old friend. As long as you don’t thrash around in your sleep and you don’t pick up the habit of walking around the deck, then this boat should carry you well.”

“I’ll think about it,” Jaax finally growled, “but if we are to ride this barge then perhaps we should see the Tree tomorrow.”

Jahrra froze, halfway between taking a sip of her cider. A cold tingle slid down her spine and her stomach began to churn with nervousness. The Oak Tree.

“Yes of course, tomorrow morning then. We shall make our trek to the goddess’s most divine creation.”

That night, Jahrra found it very hard to fall asleep. She wished to see the Tree more than anything. After all, it was where she was found abandoned and new to the world all those years ago. But for that same reason she also dreaded it.

-Chapter Five-

The Oak of Ethöes

In the morning, Jahrra wasn’t surprised to find her stomach tied in knots. She had barely managed to fall asleep the night before as she tossed and turned, her mind turbulent with anxiety, nervousness, fear and even a little excitement. She was going to see the Oak of Ethöes today, the starting point of her tumultuous life. The dawn was gray, a color she had grown accustomed to in the early hours of this place, but it was much darker than usual for the sun had not yet risen.

Stretching and yawning she rolled over in her blanket only to find Jaax watching her from across the small campsite.

A heartbeat or two passed before he spoke, quietly, “Are you well?”

His question could have had many meanings but she knew what he was asking. She nodded, then sighed, then looked back up at him, hoping he read the truth in her eyes. The slight ducking of his head told her that he did.

He looked away, beyond the trees standing in front of their secluded niche. “It is natural to be nervous but I promise you it’s not nearly as bad as you think.”

Jahrra lifted herself up on one elbow. “So you’ve returned to the place of your, uh, hatching, after living a lie for most of your life?”

She tried not to sound sarcastic but she feared it came out that way. Jaax turned back towards her and she could barely make out the corners of a grin on his face.

“Not quite, but let’s just say I’ve had experience in such things.”

Jahrra blinked and dropped her head again. Another one of Jaax’s mysteries. But she didn’t have the energy to argue him into an explanation. Not that she could if she wanted to. They reclined in silence until the sound of the first risers in the village greeted their ears.

“Come,” Jaax said, rising and stretching his massive wings. “I’m sure there will be a great breakfast feast this morning and I wouldn’t be surprised if half the village joins us on our visit.”

Grumbling, Jahrra crawled out of her warm blankets and made herself ready for the day.

* * *

Swallowing her anxiety, Jahrra followed Aydehn and several of the other Resai who had opted to join them as they started out from the village’s center. Most of the women chose to stay behind to prepare the great feast for the evening, for it was to be Jahrra’s and Jaax’s last night in Crie, but all of Jahrra’s young friends insisted on going with them. Not surprisingly this helped ease Jahrra’s jitters substantially.

By midday, Jahrra, Jaax and their small retinue were traipsing up the rocky, oak-strewn hillside. Just as Jahrra’s legs began to burn and she was tempted to call for a break, the elves and their kin slowed to a halt. She’d been too busy staring at the ground as she climbed the steep incline that she hadn’t even bothered looking up for the past several minutes. At that moment, she happened to be leaning over, her hands on her knees as she tried to catch her breath. She could sense Jaax just behind her, quiet and not even remotely winded. She resented that a little and mentally told herself that months of travel on the road wasn’t the same as keeping in shape with Yaraa and Viornen.

Finally, once she felt more restored, Jahrra straightened up, then gasped. She remembered the awe she felt towards the Apple Tree in Ehnnit Canyon but that was nothing compared to seeing the grand Tree that now stood before her. It was enormous, easily five times larger than the Apple. The trunk curved from the ground, spreading into a thousand limbs and a hundred thousand branches, the bright, new leaves of spring standing out against the older, darker ones beneath. The sunlight pouring through its canopy seemed gilded in magic and the great rent that tore up its center glared like a huge, black eye. Her nervousness, which had clung to her like a stubborn tick the entire morning, disappeared like a puff of smoke.

Jahrra swallowed hard and reached for her left wrist. Her bracelet was tingling again but she’d been too stunned to notice before now. She blinked several times and examined the great exposed roots that tumbled and pushed their way down and into the rocky hillside. Jahrra imagined these roots reached all the way to the core of the earth. Feeling an overwhelming sense of compulsion, she moved forward, climbing the few more steps up the trail to bring herself onto the small flattened area in front of the Oak.

“Young Drísíhn,” Aydehn began sternly, her formal name slipping out of his mouth without a second thought. They had explained to her before they set off that morning that the Tree was infallibly sacred and that only those who had gone through the proper ceremonies were allowed within touching range of its precious bark. But he stopped his argument when Jaax shot him a fierce look.

“This is her birth right, Aydehn,” he growled. “If anyone has a right to approach the Tree, it is her.”

Jahrra hardly heard them for she was so fixated on entering the enchanted air surrounding this Tree that she had blocked out all other senses. It was as if the Oak was calling out to her, drawing her in.

Eventually, Jahrra found herself inside the hollow center of the great Tree. The crystal clear chiming of faint magic she knew only she could hear danced around her, imploring, encouraging her into the very center of the hollow Oak.

Swallowing hard and trying to ignore the increased tingle up her left arm, Jahrra closed her eyes and stepped forward. She stopped, feeling somehow that she had placed her feet where they needed to be, and looked up. The vast space rose for thirty or forty feet, reaching far up into the core of the Oak until it ended in several gaps burned out to let in light.

Jahrra felt a rush of earth magic so strong it nearly swept her off her feet. Yes, this was like her encounter with the Apple Tree, but it was so much more as well. Time passed, not the time she was in, but the time from the beginning, up until the very present. She saw in her mind’s eye the building of the earth and all the races upon it, the plants, the animals, the mountains and forests. It was so overwhelming that Jahrra thought she might lose her ability to breathe.

Jahrraneh Drísíhn . . .

Jahrra was gasping but she couldn’t pull her mind away.

Jahrraneh Drísíhn . . . he needs your help. They all do . . .

A scene of intense violence and fear joined the whirlwind of images that suddenly swirled around in her mind like a flock of birds tossed in a thunderstorm. A great black and red demon, the same one from her nightmares of her childhood, loomed above a plain. Scattered about the great expanse of land were soldiers, fighting and dying, as they tried to destroy the monsters that attacked them. The images pricked her brain, leaving behind an intense reminder of the memories that had somehow infiltrated her nightmares from several weeks before.

Somehow, Jahrra felt her knees buckle and the faint awareness of her body crumpling into a heap in the center of the Tree hollow. She could hear the screams and cries of anguish; the laments of those who knew they were doomed. The scene changed; the men were still there but one stood out and came closer into view. He rode a great horse, its flanks sweating and bloody from the violence.

Suddenly his face was visible and Jahrra gasped. She knew who this was, the same person she’d wondered about since learning this story years ago. He was the prince of the Tanaan. Jahrra ignored all the other sounds and sights of horror that flew by and focused on the prince’s face. It blurred in and out of vision but from what she could catch she studied with intense concentration. His hair looked fair, like hers, but there was too much blood and grime to know for sure. His face might have been striking but a combination of the ambiguity of the memory and his own anger and fear contorted it. She tried so very hard to see his eyes; to maybe capture the anguish of his spirit and take some of that suffering upon herself but the blurring and swirling of the image refused to give her a clear view. A piercing scream ripped through the air and as the scene rushed from her mind, like an intense headache transforming into wind, Jahrra caught a glimpse of dragon shape.

It was only after the dull colors of the present flooded back into her mind that Jahrra’s senses became her own once again. The scream, she realized in horror, had come from her. At least some of it had.

“Jahrra!”

She suddenly felt the solid ground beneath her as she shook and cradling her left arm. She felt a cold sweat coating her entire body and a fierce pain pounding through her head. Her breathing was harsh and she knew her eyes stared forward, blank and full of pain. She could taste dust in her mouth and coughed when she also felt it lining her throat.

“Jahrra! Aydehn, send for aid! Jahrra!”

It was Jaax who kept calling her name, crying out to her as if she were lost. But she couldn’t respond to him; she felt numb both physically and mentally. Finally, she managed to blink.

“Jahrra, answer me! Curse all things to Ciarrohn’s keep!”

Jahrra would have laughed if she could. Jaax sounded angry. Not just angry, terrified. She had never heard that particular degree of emotion in his voice, ever. Well, perhaps once, the morning Hroombra had . . .

Swallowing and pushing that memory away, Jahrra drew a breath and tried to speak.

“Fine,” she murmured, barely audible above Jaax’s ranting and the nervous murmuring of the Resai elves who had accompanied them. At some point she heard Nerrid’s nervous shouts and Little Phaea’s sobbing among the worried sounds of her other friends.

Jaax cursed again.

“I’m fine,” Jahrra managed to make some sound this time, and thank all things living, Jaax heard her.

He lowered his head so that it was at the same level with hers, which was resting ungracefully against the ground. How had he entered the Tree without suffering the same effects as her?

“Thank the benevolent gods,” he breathed, closing his eyes and opening them quickly. They burned with a fierceness that made Jahrra quail but of course, she couldn’t so much as flinch if she wanted to.

“What on Ethöes happened?” he demanded once the villagers had managed to carry her out into the open.

Leaning against one of the Oak’s roots but feeling comfortable despite her episode, Jahrra shrugged. She was thinking about her reaction to the Apple and although similar, it hadn’t been nearly as violent. Also, she hadn’t even touched the Oak. Yet, she didn’t feel as if the Oak had meant her harm, more likely it was the memories that harmed her. She looked up into the Tree’s canopy, the golden light pouring through it warming her soul.

“Jahrra,” Jaax growled, “tell me what that was about.”

Jahrra grimaced and reached for the bracelet wrapped around her left wrist, the tingling subsiding but still there.

Jaax saw the action. “I know it has something to do with that bracelet Yaraa and Viornen gave you.”

Sighing, Jahrra relented. She knew he would pester her in his overbearing manner until she told him so she might as well get it out of the way.

“It tingles when I touch trees. Or when I’m around them,” she amended, thinking of this most recent episode.

“Does it make you fall into fits and seizures?” he demanded.

Jahrra winced. Is that what had happened to her? Is that what had happened with the Apple Tree? Is that why Gieaun and Scede had looked so concerned?

“Not all the time,” she finally answered.

She wasn’t about to elaborate and tell Jaax about her little escapade up Ehnnit Canyon and what she’d discovered there. Unfortunately, the Tanaan dragon was far more adept at reading her than she wished.

“Not all the time? Please, do continue with your little story Jahrra. When else have you had this reaction to a tree?”

It was Jahrra’s turn to curse but she turned it mostly upon herself. Why was he always able to dig information out of her when the last thing she wanted to do was share it? Jahrra sighed deeply. Oh, why not, she told herself, it happened so long ago it’s not as if he can punish me for it.

Taking a deep breath, Jahrra told him about her trip to Ehnnit Canyon (leaving out her reason for going of course) and what had happened when she had placed her hand on the bark of the Apple Tree.

Jaax swore again, a sudden habit he had picked up in the last hour. He swiveled his head around and noted the curious and strangely quiet villagers standing around them.

“Thank you for your accompaniment here. We can find our way back; Jahrra just needs to rest a while longer. If you see Aydehn on the way back to the village, please inform him help is no longer needed.”

Jahrra imagined, from the eager looks on the villagers’ faces, that if she had been speaking those words they would not have heeded her. When Jaax spoke to them, however, especially with that tone of voice, people were inclined to obey, even the children, who looked as if they didn’t want to leave Jahrra’s side.

As the villagers shuffled away and started their trek back down the hill, Jaax turned his head and blasted the full force of his gaze upon Jahrra. This time she did flinch.

“What else did you find in Ehnnit Canyon?” he asked, his voice dangerously low.

Jahrra swallowed, suddenly afraid of what the consequence of her words might bring her.

“R-runes,” she stammered, “inside the tunnel leading into the canyon.”

“And?” Jaax demanded.

Jahrra shot him a look. Oh yes, he was very intimidating in this mood but Jahrra had felt its effects before. She straightened up as best she could, despite the fact she was sitting upon the dirt and leaning against a tree root. It was as if Jaax would keep pressing the same question over and over again until she provided the answer he was looking for. What was it he thought she had seen?

“An interesting rock that was present there. Saerpint, Cahrume called it.”

Jahrra immediately bit her tongue. She hadn’t meant to mention the draffyd. The episode with the Oak had surely scrambled her brain. Cahrume had been akin to Denaeh in her heart; an acquaintance she’d meant to keep to herself, and now seeing the look on the Tanaan dragon’s face she knew she’d been correct.

“Cahrume?” his voice was deadly still once again, “Who is Cahrume?”

There was no getting out of this one so Jahrra took another breath, looked away and closed her eyes. “We found him in the canyon, or more accurately, he found us. He told us he was a draffyd and that he guarded the Apple Tree in the canyon.”

The silence that stretched was so long that Jahrra wondered if Jaax had somehow silently walked away to leave her cowering in the dirt beneath Ethöes’ Oak.

Finally he spoke, his voice as low and dangerous as ever, “What else did he tell you, Jahrra?”

Jahrra opened her eyes but she didn’t dare look at her guardian. “He told us about the Tanaan king and his people, how they first came to Oescienne. He told us that the runes inside the tunnel through the boulder told their story and the story of the fall of the Tanaan hundreds of years later.”

Jahrra sighed and looked up at Jaax, his visage impossibly still and his eyes heavily guarded. She blinked in surprise and took a small breath. She felt as if she was looking at a stranger, or more likely, as if Jaax were looking at her as if she were a stranger, or an enemy. What could Cahrume have told them that was so offensive to this dragon?

“He told us,” she continued, “he told us that the name of the prince, his true name, is written inside that small cave and that it was written by the prince himself shortly after the curse of Ciarrohn.”

Jahrra heard the breath Jaax released but it was so very insignificant that, had they been among others, she wouldn’t have noticed.

“And did he translate those runes for you?” the dragon pressed.

Jahrra shook her head. “No, he told us he didn’t know that language. He said it was the language of the Tanaan, a language no longer spoken or understood.”

The tension controlling Jaax seemed to loosen its grip a little and Jahrra breathed a mental sigh of relief.

It was several minutes again before anyone said anything.

Eventually Jaax said, “You should have told me of this before Jahrra so that I might know what to expect when you touched one of the Trees of Ethöes. Come, let’s head back into Crie before they start to worry about us.”

Jahrra gaped. That was it? All this effort aimed at getting information about her visit to Ehnnit Canyon and all he wanted to do in the end was scold her gently about not sharing her experience with the Apple Tree with him? Her instincts told her that wasn’t the case, that there was more, but unfortunately her brain felt too addled to puzzle it out. Besides, Jaax was the master at keeping information and secrets locked away where no one could reach them.

It was then that Jaax turned his full gaze on her, his green eyes penetrating. She forced herself not to turn away.

“How many more secrets, I wonder, do you keep from me Jahrra?”

It was a question, she was sure of it, but it sounded more like a statement, especially in that quiet tone of voice he reserved for only the most serious of moments.

Jahrra raised her chin, perhaps no more than the width of a hair, never losing eye contact, as she answered, “Not nearly as many as you.”

Jaax’s eyes narrowed but he didn’t speak for quite a while.

“Oh, but the secrets I keep Jahrra,” he breathed in that deadly calm voice again, “you don’t want to know.”

Ignoring the chill that coursed through her at those words, she nodded in defeat. She accepted Jaax’s help in standing, grasping the scaly forearm he offered and pulling herself up. Despite her still rattled nerves she also gave in to his insistence that she ride behind his neck.

“I’m fine,” she’d grumbled when he first offered.

“You’re not fine. You can hardly walk,” he’d answered roughly.

Against her will, Jahrra found herself sprawled across his back as opposed to sitting upright in a more dignified fashion. Perhaps he was correct in his assumption that she needed help. They made their way down the hill slowly, neither of them speaking to one another as they went. When they finally reached the base of the steep hill and found themselves among the elves of Crie once again, Jahrra secretly wished they had remained beneath the Oak.

“Jaax! What on Ethöes happened to her?!” Thenya fairly shrieked as she broke away from the murmuring crowd to come running towards the great dragon. “Aydehn told me she fell into a fit and you couldn’t get her to respond for a good five minutes!”

Five minutes! Jahrra thought, I was unconscious for that long?

Jahrra reluctantly accepted the help of the villagers as they gently lowered her from Jaax’s back and carried her into a nearby hut.

“Wh-where are you taking me?” she murmured, feeling suddenly light headed and weak once again.

“Hush now,” Thenya tutted. “After what happened up on the ridge, you can’t be sleeping out on the ground. You need a proper bed if you want to fully recover.”

They half carried, half led her to the nearest dwelling and proceeded to walk right through the front door. Jahrra didn’t know who lived in the small house but it boasted a freshly made bed, a cheery fire and a pot of stew simmering and releasing tantalizing aromas into the air. It was similar to Aydehn’s and Thenya’s abode but there were more windows in this one and the walls were of a different color.

“You’ll have Athon’s cabin for your final night in Crie,” Thenya whispered into Jahrra’s ear as she helped lay her upon the bed.

“No . . . would be an inconvenience . . . for Athon.” Jahrra didn’t know why she felt so suddenly tired. She suspected that if she tried to stand up she just might collapse into an unconscious heap upon the floor.

“Nonsense! He and his wife insisted and luckily they are very tidy people.”

Jahrra wondered how they’d managed to make all these accommodations in such a short amount of time but when she thought about it, she and Jaax had remained near the Oak Tree a good thirty minutes before slowly following after the villagers. The part of her mind that still tried to stay focused told her everyone was making an unnecessary fuss on her account. She tried to tell them that but her voice seemed to have lost itself somewhere.

Someone laid her out on the bed, removed her boots, and draped a quilt over her. Once completely still and no longer on her feet, Jahrra didn’t remember hearing much save for the murmur of incoherent voices, punctuated every now and again by Jaax’s distinctive complaints and demands. After that, it was all darkness and peace.

* * *

When Jahrra woke, it was well after dark. A low fire burned in the hearth but the small cabin was otherwise dark. Sitting up, she clutched her head. It ached and pounded from the dream she’d had about the Tanaan prince and the fall of his people. It hadn’t been a very long dream but towards its end she recalled feeling the weight of a hand on her shoulder. She hadn’t realized she had been standing on a hilltop, watching the battle unfold before her until she felt that presence. Turning to see who had joined her, Jahrra nearly collapsed in relief when she realized it was her green cloaked friend, hood drawn and face hidden as usual. She remembered smiling in the dream, glad that he hadn’t been chased away for good. After that the terrible scene before her faded away and she woke up.

Now that she was awake and the dream was fading into memory, she pressed her fingers against her temples in an attempt to chase away the headache then looked around. Why was she in this small house? How had she arrived here? Where was Jaax and Phrym? Then it hit her. Swallowing a groan, Jahrra fell back against the mattress. Perhaps it hadn’t been a dream, but a reality. The villagers had taken her up to the Sacred Oak of Ethöes and something had happened.

The faint sound of the door opening made Jahrra bolt upright. She clutched her head again and gritted her teeth. Those had been some powerful images indeed.

When the spinning ceased, Jahrra tried focusing on her visitor. She was a woman, several years older than herself, but not quite as old as Thenya. She gave a pretty smile and pulled nervously at her soft brown hair. Jahrra felt the anxiety melt from her bones.

“Forgive me young miss, I came to check on you,” she said in a kind voice. “I’m Athon’s wife, Nelliah, and was asked to come see if you’d like to join the rest of the village outside.”

Jahrra blushed slightly. She was still fully dressed, except her boots were missing, and someone had draped a quilt over her. From the looks of the sheets on the bed it was quite obvious she had had a restless sleep. She wished she could at least remake the bed before joining the others.

“Oh,” she finally managed, “I’d love to. Just let me find my boots and tidy up here . . .”

“No, don’t you dare worry yourself,” Nelliah waved her arms in dismissal and stepped forward, fetching Jahrra’s boots from the hearth.

Jahrra flushed again. She hated all this special treatment and despite Nelliah’s protests, she made the bed to the best of her ability before following her out into the night.

The air was cold and clear and Jahrra felt grateful, for it took a bit of the pain from her head away. Nelliah led her past several neighboring huts that boasted the familiar wood pole pens full of sleeping animals. It was dark but she recognized the great bonfire burning in the center of the village several feet away. As they walked, Jahrra listened to the hearty murmur of voices far ahead. The sounds were cheerful and she even detected the melody of a flute. Above her, the black sky housed a thousand or more glittering stars which blinked in and out of sight as they passed under the branches of trees. Wood smoke, roasting meat and the distinct tang of livestock filled the air and Jahrra grinned. It was nice to have control of one’s senses once again.

She saw Jaax first, not surprisingly, sitting at ease with a great bowl in front of him as the fire accentuated all his fierce angles. He was having what appeared to be a cheerful conversation with Aydehn and a few of the other village men.

Once Jahrra stepped into the firelight everyone stopped what they had been saying to their neighbors and looked at her. Jahrra gritted her teeth. She really wished they wouldn’t do that. It had taken them all week to grow used to her presence without looking upon her in awe as they had when she first arrived. Now, thanks to her little spectacle earlier that day, she was once again a novelty. Jaax glanced over immediately, the almost calm, relaxed look on his face long gone. Instead he donned the same look he always seemed to give her when he knew she was watching him: caution, concern, authority and curiosity. This time there was a hint of relief.

Jahrra sighed and walked over to where her guardian reclined, not feeling comfortable near anyone else right at that moment. Nelliah joined a good-looking man on the other side of the bonfire, Athon, Jahrra guessed.

“It’s good to see you well, Jahrra,” Jaax murmured.

Jahrra blinked up in surprise. He actually sounded sincere, something Jahrra knew he was capable of but only saved for very rare occasions.

“How do you feel?”

“Fine, except for my head,” she answered, pressing a palm against the spot that hurt the worst.

“Then some willow bark tea is in order,” Aydehn said, stretching out a hand that clasped an extra mug.

Soon Jahrra was sipping at the bitter concoction and the modest festivities continued. She had done this nearly every night; joined them by the fire with Jaax at her side. But tonight it seemed strange, awkward, new even, as if this was her first night sharing tea with them.

Time crept on and Jahrra listened as the villagers slowly became accustomed to her presence, rejoining their comrades in light, cheery conversation. Jahrra guessed the reason for their cautious behavior was that they’d been holding out for her to drop to the ground and fall into fits of hysteria again. She was pretty sure that wasn’t going to happen anytime soon.

Taking a deep breath to calm her mind, Jahrra found a soft spot on the ground beside Jaax, leaning up against his shoulder as she observed those around her. Despite today’s singular mishap, it had been a great visit. All in all, she decided this was a happy place, the village of Crie, and not for the first time she wondered what her life would have been like if these elvin people had kept her as one of their own.

Now that she had time to truly contemplate it, without Jaax’s commentary, she gave it some serious thought. She was sure she would’ve grown up playing along the riverbank, collecting wildflowers in the spring and tending the chickens and goats with a skip in her step. But she would have stood out like a sore thumb. Her blond hair, blue eyes and height would have been noticed and she never really would have fit in. True, she hadn’t fit in all that well in Oescienne but at least there were others who resembled her somewhat. In Crie she would have had different parents, different friends, and she wouldn’t have had Hroombra . . .

Jahrra bit her lip and sipped more of her tea, grateful that the somewhat unpleasant stuff was easing the pain in her head. No, she wouldn’t have had Hroombra. Jaax had been right. No one else could have raised her as well, she was sure of that now. Taking a deep breath to ease the pain of her memories, she eyed the bonfire more closely, noticing that the smoke looked strange to her.

“Why is the fire smoke red Jaax?” she asked sleepily.

She remembered the fire from the Sobledthe festival back in Lensterans; how the celebrants had added herbs and their very own magic to taint the smoke.

Jaax tilted his head, just enough so that Jahrra knew he was talking to her. “For you, Jahrra,” he answered quietly.

Sighing, she leaned her head against his rough scales, surprised to think they felt smooth and comforting. Equally surprised that she felt so comfortable doing so. Listening to the sound of the flute and the laughter of the elves of Crie, both young and old, Jahrra felt herself drifting off to sleep once again.

* * *

They left the next morning, Jaax claiming he would like to try for that shipping barge after all.

“I’m still a bit leery about it Aydehn, but what you said made sense and it’ll probably get us to Lidien much easier than if we were to travel on foot, especially since Jahrra is still a little under the weather from yesterday’s incident. And the sooner we’re away from this valley the sooner you’ll be out of danger as well.”

Jaax knowingly eyed the young children chasing each other around the embers of the fire from last night, their shrieks a match for the grumbling complaints of the livestock. By the look on the surrounding adults’ faces, Jahrra concluded that this argument would prevent any protestations of their leaving too soon. The Tanaan dragon gave Aydehn and Thenya a particularly stern look. Reluctantly, the Resai elf nodded as he pulled his wife close.

They said their goodbyes, the adults seeming wistful, the children teary-eyed. Jahrra hoisted Phaea up into a sweeping hug as the girl bawled and rubbed her eyes.

“If I ever get a chance I promise to come and see you again,” she vowed, fighting tears herself. “But for now I need you to stay and look after all our friends.”

The girl, her bottom lip quivering, nodded and tried to be brave as she snuggled up to Nerrid.

Taking a deep, lung-clearing breath, Jahrra glanced around the village one final time, fixing its every detail into her mind. Once satisfied, she climbed atop Phrym and drew the reins, nodding for Jaax to lead the way. Before her semequin even took one step however, Thenya rushed up, offering her a gift.

“I can’t,” Jahrra started to protest.

Thenya shook her head and opened her closed fist. It contained a small wooden bead, similar to the ones wrapped around her wrist. This one was smooth as well and boasted its very own rune, different from the others. Jahrra glanced down at her bracelet. She was pretty sure she didn’t have this bead with this rune, but Yaraa and Viornen had told her it contained the wood of all the Trees of Ethöes. She then gave Thenya a look of puzzlement, wondering when the sly older woman had noticed Jahrra’s bracelet.

“It is mistletoe,” she said with a grand smile, “mistletoe collected from the Oak.”

Jahrra drew in a breath. This bead was special indeed.

Thenya took Jahrra’s hand and placed the bead in her palm, closing her fingers over it. “It will protect you and keep you safe,” she whispered.

Jahrra nodded and accepted it, immediately unlacing her bracelet so that she might add it to the others. Once the mistletoe bead was secure all of the beads flared brightly, their runes glowing in their very own unique colors for a few moments. The mistletoe, Jahrra noticed, was a beautiful violet. The tingling in her wrist lasted a bit longer than she was used to but it wasn’t uncomfortable.

Thenya backed away, tears in her eyes. “So we say goodbye to you again, dear Drísíhn.”

Jahrra felt one of the tears she had been holding back trace down her cheek. She hardly knew these people but they were dear to her.

“The barge will stop about a mile down river,” Aydehn said after clearing his throat. “The stop is marked with a sign and there is a small dock. Captain Thomin is the name of my cousin. Tell him who you are and he’ll be glad to take you.” The Resai man paused, “He is loyal to Ethöes and an ally to us so you have nothing to fear.”

Jaax thanked them all once again for their hospitality, as did Jahrra, and soon they were on their way. They had been lucky so far not to encounter trouble, but until they were safe within the city walls of Lidien, Jaax would remain cautious and guarded as ever.

-Chapter Six-

Traveling on the Saem

Jaax and Jahrra found the barge an hour later just as Aydehn had said docked beside an old pier jutting out into the wide expanse of the placid river. Men bustled about, shifting cargo and unloading small boxes and passengers who lived in the secluded hills around Crie. After a quick inspection of his surroundings, Jaax stepped away from the relative safety of the trees and approached the dock unhurriedly, Jahrra atop Phrym just behind him. The men working the boat spotted them and after the dragon explained his intentions, they immediately produced their captain.

Captain Thomin, Jahrra noted, was taller than his cousin with a neatly trimmed beard, a broad chest and thick arms, suggesting he had worked these river barges for many years before acquiring his own boat. Jaax carefully and discreetly explained who they were once again and upon hearing their story the captain gladly welcomed them aboard. They managed to find a place for Jaax, wedged within the great room that functioned as a sizeable shed in the middle of the barge.

“We use this when transporting grains and dry goods from the lake islands,” a ship hand explained. “We don’t need it now though, seeing as we’re just coming out of winter. Nope, won’t need it for a good several months yet.”

He whistled through a gap in his teeth as he helped the others clear a few boxes and move a few piles of heavy rope to accommodate the great Tanaan dragon.

Jahrra watched in amused interest as Jaax tried as discreetly and delicately as possible to comfortably wedge himself into the somewhat confined space. When he cast her an abraded glare after her failure to hide a snort of humor, Jahrra gave in to a full bout of hysterics. It was a good thing Jaax was so incapacitated or else she might be in trouble.

After the dragon was settled the crew of the barge, a vessel fondly referred to as the River Mule, found a place to secure Phrym. Last but not least, Jahrra helped them stow the few items they had managed to carry with them from the Castle Guard Ruin. An hour after arriving at the dock they were pushing away, several of the stronger crew using massive wooden poles to push the heavy vessel into the current that would take them downriver.

Jahrra watched the dock slowly disappear around a bend as the River Mule rocked and glided over the lazy surface of the Saem. Sighing, she pushed away from the railing she’d been leaning up against and wandered over to where Jaax was quietly contemplating their new surroundings. She found a somewhat comfortable crate and sat down, her back leaning against the frame of the large shed.

Jaax seemed to squirm uncomfortably, so Jahrra asked, “Why didn’t you just swim or fly or follow us along the river bank?”

“If I were to fly or walk,” he said through gritted teeth as he tried to un-wedge his shoulder, “I would be easier to see, and if I were to swim, the current might be too strong for me. Besides, if anything is to happen I prefer to be close at hand.”

Jahrra nodded her head in contentment, watching the scenery change and sweep by as they moved further and further west.

Time seemed to stand still on the river and as they traveled and the days passed by, Jahrra wandered about the deck, asking questions and offering help. The men were friendly and generous with answers to her questions. Some of them even taught her how to fish from the boat’s deck. When she could, she leant a helping hand. The crew of the River Mule, as rough and tumble as they appeared, were uncommonly proper and insisted that a lady not be forced into manual labor. Jahrra only scoffed, proving that she was anything but a fine lady and that she had no qualms in helping where help was needed. It took a few days for the captain to give in but eventually they allowed her to do a few small chores like lighting the lanterns that hung about the deck on foggy mornings or in the evenings when it started to get dark. She was also given the task of bringing in fish, especially when they were forced to guide the barge around one of the Saem’s many small islands, their progress slowing almost to a stop.

Jahrra enjoyed this work not because it was particularly enjoyable but because it gave her something to do other than sit around and dwell on things that she shouldn’t dwell on. Nevertheless, during the evenings when she would curl up somewhere close to Jaax and when a few of the men would pull out a harmonica or flute and play out a doleful tune, she would find herself thinking of home and Hroombra and even of those few friends she made in Crie. She would also think about her reaction to the Oak Tree and drive herself crazy trying to puzzle out whether what she saw and heard was a plea for help, a piece of advice, or simply a random memory shared for no other reason than that she happened to be someone to share it with.

Often times Jaax would speak quietly to her, always using kruelt if the discussions were of a personal matter. He had developed a knack for discerning when she was distressed and to her profound relief, he was able to talk her through the pain and frustration. Jahrra didn’t have the time to marvel at how the brusque Tanaan dragon had gone from being an extreme annoyance to her new foundation of strength but she wasn’t too proud to admit to herself that she was glad of it.

The evenings were hardest, when it was calm and quiet, and Jahrra found herself relishing the daylight hours when the barge was bustling with people working and going about the business of maneuvering around the sandbars and through the rough patches of the Saem. Although the distance from Crie to Lidien wasn’t great, the unique geography and sluggish current of the river made it a lengthy journey. Sometimes when they were experiencing a particularly slow day, Jahrra passed the time by visiting Phrym, tethered securely to a pole in the center of the boat.

“So he don’t try jumpin’ out and makin’ a swim for it,” one of the crew members had said with a wink.

Despite their concern, Phrym seemed quite content munching his oats and watching the landscape drift by just like his master.

As the days passed Jahrra felt her mood, somewhat dismal since leaving Crie, lighten a bit. She spotted several different animals along the banks of the Saem and hurriedly dug her sketchbook out of Phrym’s saddle bags. On many a morning she could be found sitting atop one of the several crates at the rear of the boat, wrapped in her cloak and sketching furiously. The animals on the northern side of the river were especially interesting, mostly being the magical creatures of Felldreim. On a few occasions she was sure she spotted the predators the children of Crie had told her about.

Near the end of their journey Jahrra spent more of her time keeping Jaax company. After all, he was cramped up in that seemingly all too small cabin, forced to keep still as everyone else around him hustled about with the busy work of directing the boat down the great Saem. Jahrra imagined this was the longest he’d ever gone without taking to the sky and this forced immobility had to be wearing down on his nerves.

“Do you think we are close?” she asked as she abandoned her sketching post for the day.

Jaax shifted infinitesimally to get the blood flowing back in his wings and the River Mule rocked slightly, sending a rolling wave to lap at the distant river bank.

Jahrra planted her feet and cast him a discerning look. “Remember what the captain said? This boat is barely big enough to keep afloat with you on it.”

“Am I to lose my wings due to a lack of oxygen then?” he asked wryly with a pinch of pent-up exasperation.

Jahrra gave him a pointed look. “I bet the ride would go more smoothly if you didn’t speak. I think the boat just rocked unnecessarily again. And perhaps you should keep your blinking to a minimum as well.”

She briskly walked away with the air of someone on a mission, leaving Jaax to stare after her in stunned silence.

After a while, the dragon grinned. It was a rare occurrence for Jahrra to be in a teasing mood since leaving Oescienne so he merely snorted, saving his retort for another time. It had been a relatively easy journey and Jaax was almost certain it would be a day or two more before they reached Lidien. He could manage his confinement for at least that much longer without going completely mad.

Jaax glanced up and spotted Jahrra standing on the stern of the boat, her hair being gently lifted by the wind. He couldn’t say for sure but he had the wonderful feeling that perhaps the nightmares and horror of what they left behind in Oescienne might finally be receding. Jahrra still had troubles, he knew this all too well for he was the one to offer her an ear when she just needed someone to listen to her. But he also knew that as the days crawled by it took less and less time for her to talk her worries away. Jaax suspected the visit to Crie and Thenya’s gift of the mistletoe bead might be partly to blame.

That, of course, and Jahrra’s own resolve, the same resolve that, no matter what awful things happened to her, she always managed to fight back and recover. Jaax would have to count on this tenacity to help Jahrra in the future because there was no doubt in his mind that she would face even more terror and darkness before this grand journey was through.

* * *

Just before dawn, on their eighth day down the river, the barge left the waters of the Saem behind for good. The River Mule, moving sluggishly in waters that had gradually widened and slowed even further, came around a final curve to reveal a great bay.

Jahrra had been snoozing, curled up on one of the crates with a blanket, when the voices of the men working the barge woke her. She rubbed her eyes, stretched and nearly gasped aloud when she caught sight of the change in scenery. Lidien, the City of Light, towered above her in a terrace pattern up the many hillsides surrounding the massive inlet. Even before the morning sunlight could touch it, Jahrra noted its beauty. It was a massive city, far bigger than Lensterans or Kiniahn Kroi, its many buildings perched upon the hills like well-placed chess pieces, dominating the northern side of the great bay in a labyrinth of stonework.

The pale rose, peach and lemon colored structures gleamed and glittered like thousands of beacons, their cheery colors painted in the richer tones of the approaching sunrise. Green patches dotted with color indicated several gardens, while narrow ribbons of white portrayed the neat roads that crisscrossed the city like veins in a leaf. The houses climbed up the vertical landscape in a beautifully chaotic staircase and Jahrra was sure she was taking part in a waking dream.

A few shouted orders were issued and Jahrra found herself scrambling to get out of the way. The River Mule rocked and the crew started the work of bringing it into port. As the large vessel maneuvered its way towards one of several docks in the distance, Jahrra tried to calm her heart as she let her eyes take in the wonder that surrounded her once again. The bay itself was enormous, almost like a small sea. Ships and boats of every size and design were scattered about like bobbing ducks, eager to start the busy day.

Jaax lifted his head from his hiding place in the center of the boat.

“Breathtaking, isn’t it? Outside of Oescienne it’s the most beautiful sight in all of the western part of Ethöes,” he said quietly, nodding to the grand cityscape spreading out before and above them.

Jahrra started but turned and gave him an enchanted glance. She simply nodded her head and returned her attention to the scene before her; the sprawling city, the water of the bay reflecting its image in shards of pinks and golds. The seabirds glided overhead, cackling and calling to one another as a cold salty breeze brushed against her skin. Shouts and whistles poured from other barges and boats, their crews posturing in mock outrage as open places along docks were snatched up or vacated before one last crate was loaded.

Finally deciding she was well enough out of the way of their own crew, Jahrra took a seat atop a pile of tarp covered boxes and pressed her back against a thick rope trailing from the roof of Jaax’s shed. Not for the first time, Jahrra wondered what her life would be like in the city of Lidien and how long she and Jaax would stay. She had fought coming here, what seemed like a very long time ago, wanting to stay in Oescienne to care for Hroombra and enjoy life with her friends. But Hroombra wasn’t here anymore and she wasn’t the simple Nesnan she thought she was. For so long Lidien had been a dream, a legendary place that, in her mind, didn’t really exist. But here they were, finally at its feet and it felt as real as any place she had ever been.

Jahrra sighed and ran her hand through her hair. She had spent the last few months with Jaax running for her life. During those many weeks she hardly had any time to really contemplate what they were running towards. She only hoped that they would stay in Lidien long enough for her to catch her breath. But right now she was going to enjoy looking upon a city that might very well be the grandest thing she had ever seen.

“It will get better Jahrra,” Jaax murmured beside her, “your pain and confusion.”

Jahrra nearly jumped, forgetting she had moved so close to him. Had Jaax somehow read her thoughts? No, she reminded herself a bit churlishly, he’s just become so good at reading me.

She swallowed, her words sounding hoarser than she had wanted, “How do you know that it will get better?”

Jaax didn’t answer for a while and all Jahrra could do was sit and listen to the sounds of a bayside city, waking up at the break of dawn, and contemplate the smell of salt and sea life on the air.

“Experience Jahrra,” he spoke on a sigh, “experience.”

Jahrra contemplated that for a while but soon allowed herself to become distracted with the activity on board. She yawned once and curled up atop the tarps, intending to close her eyes just for a moment.

* * *

“Jahrra,” Jaax whispered harshly.

Jahrra started, blinking as if she were lost. She turned to look at her guardian, still tucked away beneath the storage room of their boat, and glanced in the direction he indicated. Jahrra spotted a carriage, covered with the curtains drawn, and groaned. The last thing she wanted to do was climb out of the bobbing vessel and into another that would be moving just as much. She was eager to stretch her legs or at least ride Phrym. Why did they need a carriage?

“Jahrra, it would be best if we got moving before the city is fully awake. Discretion is key at the moment at least until I can alert the Coalition to your presence.”

Mumbling, Jahrra stood from her small nest and stretched her arms.

“Coalition?” she managed to say around a yawn.

Jaax nodded as he carefully removed himself from the barge. Jahrra had to grab a nearby rope to keep from falling overboard. For some reason she hadn’t slept well at all the night before. That coupled with the excitement of arriving in Lidien had made it hard for her to keep her mind clear.

“The Coalition for Ethöes,” Jaax continued as Jahrra joined him on the dock.

“I should have told you before but I was too focused on getting us here that there never really was time to go into the details. Besides, the details regarding the Coalition are known only inside the borders of Lidien. The risk of anyone at all learning more than the basic knowledge of our group was not something I wished to test on our journey here.”

The Tanaan dragon released a massive sigh, as if he were about to divulge a great deal of information. Jahrra gratefully took Phrym’s reins from one of the crew as Jaax elaborated.

“You must know that Hroombra and I weren’t the only ones aware of your presence nor the only ones who had any concern for the future of our world.”

He glanced at Jahrra and when he noticed he had her full attention, he continued, “Over the past few centuries, those of us who wished for the eradication of the Crimson King have banded together and formed a faction. We call ourselves the Coalition for Ethöes, as I said. Not a very impressive title, I know, but our name isn’t what matters. The Coalition is made up of thousands of members, scattered all throughout the seven provinces, but our headquarters is located here, in Lidien.”

Jaax stopped talking yet Jahrra knew he had more to say.

“They know about you, Jahrra,” he finally said, “Hroombra insisted I tell them but I waited as long as I could. They found out about you only a few years ago.”

They had been walking towards the awaiting carriage but Jahrra stopped short. “Why did you wait so long?”

Jaax gave a dragonish shrug. “Fear. I knew some of our members weren’t as loyal as Hroombra believed and even now there are a few I don’t entirely trust. But in the end those who are loyal deserved to know.”

Jahrra nodded, waiting for him to continue. When he didn’t, she asked, “So, every group needs a leader. Who heads this Coalition?”

It was a few moments before Jaax answered. “Hroombra did, before . . .”

He didn’t have to finish. Jahrra took a breath and said, “So who is their leader now?”

This time Jahrra swore an entire minute passed before Jaax finally said, “I am.”

Of course. Jahrra wasn’t all that surprised. In fact, she was more surprised to realize that her guardian had been reluctant to admit such a thing. Funny, she had always thought him so arrogant and smug but in retrospect perhaps it had been her, in her blind youth, who had been so sure of things, so stubborn that she hadn’t taken the time to step beyond herself and take another look.

No, Jaax wasn’t really all that arrogant, just confidant and determined. She blinked back her weariness and a sudden revelation announced itself. It was no wonder he’d been gone all throughout her childhood. Hroombra obviously couldn’t be in Lidien so Jaax was acting as a representative for him.

“Shall we?” Jaax pressed, indicating the carriage.

Jahrra yawned and nodded. All around them the docks were busy with life. The waterfront was different here than it was in the coastal towns of Oescienne. Many of the buildings and streets ran right up to the water as if those who built them were determined to use every scrap of land possible.

Phrym shuffled his feet and blew out a gust of air, nibbling cheerfully at Jahrra’s sleeve. She smiled and pulled him along the heavy wood planks until they reached the coach that waited patiently for them.

With the help of some of the crewmen from their boat, Jaax managed to get their belongings, including Phrym’s tack, onto the top of the carriage while Jahrra and the footman secured Phrym to the back. Jaax directed her to the open carriage door then turned to murmur a few words to the driver. Once everything was settled, the driver called out to the horses and gave their reins a nice flick before the vehicle lurched forward.

Jahrra waved goodbye to their travel companions as the wooden wheels of the carriage tumbled over the uneven paving, a pang of sadness touching her heart. She would miss them. They had been wonderful traveling companions, teaching her card games and telling her about the nature of the river.

Sighing, Jahrra leaned against a soft cushion and turned her head to gaze out the window. She should sleep now that she was comfortable but there was no way she was going to miss the chance to see the city on their way to wherever it was they were going.

Jahrra assumed Jaax either flew ahead or followed them on foot but she was too weary to care much. He would keep them in sight and he had already told her that Lidien was the safest place on Ethöes for them to live. She wasn’t going to worry. Instead, she sat up straighter in the coach to keep herself from drifting off and gazed at the magnificent city that passed by.

The marine district wasn’t overly impressive, considering it was so close to the waterfront and housed the sailors, fishermen and what Jahrra could only assume was the lower class of this wondrous place. She frowned. For some reason she expected Lidien to be free of such hardships but she shrugged, guessing that every place on Ethöes, whether it be in Ghorium or here in Felldreim, had its share of citizens who had less or more than others.

Gradually, the coach made its way up through the clustered hills of the northeastern portion of Lidien Bay. The sun was peaking over the mountains in the distance by the time the carriage had climbed high enough for Jahrra to get a decent view. When the golden rays finally cast their light upon the water below, Jahrra sucked in a startled breath. The pale buildings brightened to golden fire when the early morning light hit them and the waters of the massive inlet glittered. Jahrra bit her lip in delight, only imagining what the sight would look like on the opposite end of the day when the sun was going down in the ocean on the other side of the western hills.

By now the streets had become busy with life; the patrons of Lidien making their way to and from work. About halfway up the hilly cityscape, the main road they took leveled out and widened and a broad stretch of tree-lined lawn split the avenue. Jahrra pressed her face against the window and gaped. The buildings grew in height and width and took on a more regal look. There were several, and between two particularly ornate structures Jahrra spotted a grand plaza that led deeper into the forest of crenellated and columned buildings.

Falling back into her seat, she resisted the temptation to ask the driver to stop so she could explore. The grand buildings tapered out but eventually gave way to other massive structures. Men and women, looking Nesnan, Resai, elvin and several other races Jahrra couldn’t quite name, poured in and out of the tall buildings. They were garbed in fancy robes or dresses, looking stern and busy as they bustled past the crowds of people, making their way to other locations or ornate carriages waiting for them on the pristine streets. Jahrra couldn’t get over the number of horses and carriages choking the crowded lanes. She wondered how anyone got anywhere on time.

While waiting for the traffic to start flowing again, Jahrra took the opportunity to lean out the window and shout back at the footman, “What were those buildings we passed? The tall ones with great steps and columns making up their facades?”

The footman tipped his hat and shouted back at Jahrra over the noise, “That be the University miss.”

Jahrra’s eyes widened. The University? The University she had refused to attend after Hroombra and Jaax had insisted? A slight pang bit at her stomach as she recalled her beloved mentor and the last argument she had had with him. After a moment or two she nodded, breathing deeply through her nose as she retreated back into the safety of the carriage.

The coach continued down the main avenue through the city before beginning to ascend the hilly landscape once again. Most of the buildings were several stories tall, built of the same pale gold and pink stones scattered throughout the city. This place reminded her very much of Kiniahn Kroi but instead of noticing the clear class distinction there, here in Lidien that didn’t seem to matter quite so much. Richly dressed patrons spoke openly to those who obviously held lesser positions in society. And, Jahrra observed with pure delight, it was clear dragons were extended respect here as well.

As they passed a particularly large structure, several dragons, Korli and Tanaan alike, mingled and chatted in the open foyer that acted as the building’s entrance. Jahrra leaned against the side of the carriage and studied them, wanting to find differences between them. She had only ever seen Hroombra and Jaax and wondered if all Korli and Tanaan looked like their counterparts. She was delighted to note that, although they were similar, there was still plenty to distinguish one dragon from the next. The Tanaan appeared to come in a wide range of colors and varied in size a little. The Korli kept their grey tones but their size varied even more.

Yawning and stretching against the plush velvet, Jahrra retreated back into her comfortable seat as the driver turned them up a wide side road. Blinking sleepily, she noticed they were climbing once again, taking a path that appeared to twist up and around a small mountain. About halfway up the large, wooded hill, the carriage turned down a drive. Jahrra peered out the window, noting the mixed conifer and broadleaf forest surrounding them. She smiled, hoping that wherever they ended up, these trees were nearby. It was a delight to find what seemed to be a small wilderness so close to the urban expanse they had just passed through. She reached for her left arm where her wooden bracelet rested. It felt warm and if she concentrated, she could feel the slightest of tingles.

A handful of minutes passed by and the carriage pulled to a slow stop. Curious, Jahrra threw open the window again and leaned out. She took a deep breath, pure delight coursing through her as the familiar scent of the ocean and the tang of pine and earth hit her senses. Gazing ahead, she spotted what had caused the delay. A great gate, ornate and impenetrable looking, blocked their progress. The footman hopped down from the back of the carriage and ran up to the hindrance, seeming to speak a few words before the gate creaked slowly open.

Jahrra blinked in surprise and tried to follow the tall stone wall in either direction, but found that the steep terrain and many trees prevented that. The carriage lurched forward and they continued up the smooth lane, all the while Jahrra having flashbacks of that caravan ride to the twins’ home in Kiniahn Kroi so many years ago.

The driveway turned and curved a few more times while it ascended the summit of the hill. As it came around the final bend Jahrra nearly fell to the floor in surprise. At the apex of the hill, rising above the tops of the highest trees, stood a grand mansion, far nicer than any she had ever seen, including Eydeth’s and Ellysian’s estate. Other than having pale gold stones as its main building material, this structure looked nothing like the twins’ home. A great sweeping, circular drive brushed right up against the façade of the place. A patch of well manicured lawn complete with a pool and fountain in the middle stood centrally in relation to the driveway. As her carriage pulled up, Jahrra gaped at the gold, black and white fish swimming lazily around the dormant leaves of water lilies just below the surface of the pool.

Finally, the coach came to a stop and Jahrra heard the footman leap down onto the gravel with a crunch and pull open her door. She was too stunned at first to exit, wondering exactly where they were. Was this the grand house of some king or wealthy friend of Jaax’s? With a thrill, Jahrra imagined that it belonged to an elf. But why would Jaax bring her here and not to an inn?

Stepping out of the carriage, Jahrra nodded and smiled at the footman who returned the gesture in kind. Her booted feet crunched loudly against the gravel but she was too charmed by the grand estate before her to notice the noise. There were a few wide, large steps set before a huge door, one large enough to accommodate dragons with a much smaller one fashioned within it.

A few great columns, two on each side of the giant door, rose from the ground and reached all the way to the roof some twenty feet or more high. But it was the windows that made Jahrra grin more than anything else. Between the two columns on either side, two glass apertures stood looking like great, gleaming eyes. They were tall, starting near the base of the building and rising practically to the roof. They were flat at the bottom but tapered towards the top into a point with several diamond-shaped panes. Jahrra was tempted to look into one of the panes but that would mean walking right up to it and pressing her face against the cool glass, something she thought would be considered rude to whoever owned the home.

Instead, as the footman and driver worked at unloading her belongings, she glanced around some more at the landscape. The hilltop they stood on was rather spacious and conveniently flat. The house took up most of the space but left enough room around its edges for a small garden that appeared to wrap around half the structure. Along the edges of the flat space the land dropped off into a steep descent down the thickly forested hillside.

Jahrra breathed in a great breath of the fresh air, glad of its cold crispness. She walked around the carriage and made her way toward the shallow pool, sitting on the edge and trailing her fingers through the icy water. The fish noticed right away and came swarming over, nibbling at her fingers and splashing about, their brilliant colors flashing in the morning sun.

Jahrra laughed and was so distracted that she hadn’t noticed the sound of the great door behind her opening and closing. Jaax was practically upon her before she lifted her head to discern who was approaching. When she finally did notice she blinked up in surprise, forgetting the fish for a while.

Jaax smiled down at her and took a small breath. “They do that if you put your hand in the water. It’s how Neira lets them know it’s feeding time.”

“Neira?” Jahrra queried, pulling her hand from the water.

Jaax nodded. “My housekeeper.”

Jahrra blinked again, her mind foggy from her recent overdose of excitement. “Your housekeeper?”

She glanced around Jaax’s legs, catching sight of the carriage that was now leaving and focused on the grand house. She then looked back up at Jaax.

“Yours?”

The Tanaan dragon grinned smugly. “Did you think we would be living in an inn while in Lidien? Or an old dilapidated structure in the woods perhaps?”

Jahrra bristled with anger and annoyance for a moment, until she noted the kind teasing in Jaax’s voice. He isn’t trying to be difficult or unkind, she reminded herself. Then she wondered what other shocking surprises this dragon had in store for her. It was as if he had lived an entirely different life outside of Oescienne.

Of course he has, she chided herself. You yourself often think about how much you don’t know him. Well, this is your proof. Jahrra cast her wayward thoughts aside and looked up at her guardian.

“I did expect an inn,” she admitted begrudgingly.

She turned and watched the carriage disappearing down the drive, Phrym reluctantly being pulled behind.

“Wait!” Jahrra gasped, snapping out of her daze and standing. “Where are they taking Phrym?”

“Relax Jahrra,” Jaax said, “he’ll be staying at one of the cities finest stables, the one conveniently located at the base of this hill in fact. You’ll get to visit him later.”

Jahrra heaved a sigh of relief and plopped back down on the edge of the pond, her hand returning to the water where the fish continued their search for food. If she hadn’t been so tired she might have argued further on Phrym’s behalf. Surely he would be difficult for the strangers that would soon be settling him into his new, temporary home. Jahrra turned back to her idle ministrations. The coolness of the water was rather soothing, something her nerves were grateful for at present.

With a grunt to catch her attention, Jaax jerked his head towards the house. Jahrra rose from her stone seat once again, dusted off her pants, and started walking towards the small castle.

Jaax followed just behind her. “Neira is very eager to meet you.”

“Oh?” Jahrra responded, not knowing what else to say.

Jaax chuckled. “Yes. This is where I stay when in Lidien. In case you were wondering.”

Jahrra turned to face her guardian. She had been wondering.

“You stay here often?” She tried to keep the accusation out of her voice but she wasn’t sure if she was successful.

Jaax nodded again. “Most of my business outside of Oescienne directly concerned the Coalition and this house has been in my possession for years.”

Jahrra nodded. She didn’t know all of Jaax’s history. No, she didn’t know most of Jaax’s history but she knew enough from what Hroombra had told her to know that he had connections outside of Oescienne.

“Shall we proceed?” her guardian continued, dipping his head and giving Jahrra a grin.

Smiling in return, Jahrra climbed up the wide stairs, her attention lost once again on the great windows. About midway up a stained glass design of a green dragon sitting regally with spread wings, a blood rose suspended above its head, brought a shock of color to the otherwise clear, colorless glass. Jahrra glanced over her shoulder and lifted one eyebrow in the direction of her guardian.

Jaax shrugged. “We have no fear showing where our loyalties lie in Lidien.”

“Who is the dragon?” Jahrra wondered aloud.

“Traagien,” Jaax answered simply.

Nodding, Jahrra faced the great door at the top of the stairs. She could see it was very thick, probably crafted from oak, with huge iron rings meant for opening and closing it. The smaller door was a bit different. There was a knocker on this one that looked like the head of a draffyd and the door itself had an intricate rose pattern carved into its surface. Before she could figure out whether she should knock on the door or just walk right in, the decision was made for her. A woman who looked quite bedraggled jerked open the smaller door. At first she seemed bothered, as if she had been interrupted from a very important task, but as soon as she spotted Jahrra her entire expression changed.

“Oh!” she exclaimed, her hands flying to her face, “You must be Miss Jahrra. How I’ve been longing to meet you!”

She bustled forward, careful to keep her skirts from tangling in her feet, and stopped just short of the Tanaan dragon and his ward.

The woman looked questioningly up at Jaax but the dragon merely nodded, moving past the two women as he pushed open the larger door. Jahrra watched him disappear into the depths of the house, wondering why he had abandoned her here without introductions.

“Forgive Master Jaax his abruptness,” the woman continued in a pleasant voice, “he promised to let me show you the house.”

Jahrra smiled weakly. In all honesty she was dying to see the house but she was so tired. The journey and the commotion of arriving in Lidien had drained her completely. Nevertheless, she thought that perhaps she could stay awake a little longer if it meant giving a polite first impression.

“Thank you,” she paused and gave the woman a quizzical look.

“Oh dear, look at me!” she said, slapping a hand to her forehead. “All this excitement and I’ve forgotten to introduce myself. I’m Neira and I serve as Raejaax’s housekeeper and will also act as maid to you.”

The woman gave a neat curtsy, her dark brown curls bobbing with the action, then thrust out her hand.

Jahrra smiled, a little more relaxed now, and returned the handshake. “And I’m Jahrra.”

“Well, Miss Jahrra,” the housekeeper said, clasping her hands loosely in front of her, “what would you like to see first?”

Jahrra sighed. “Everything, but I’m so exhausted. Is there any way that I can get some sleep before you show me the entire residence, because I do want to see it all and I would like to have a clear head when I do.”

Neira nodded in understanding and answered, “Then I shall take you to your bedroom first thing.”

Jahrra’s eyes widened. She had her own bedroom here? She wondered about that, this being a dragon’s home, but Neira seemed to sense her curiosity.

“There are a few rooms upstairs that are suitable for anyone of an elvin size,” she said. “Dragons also often keep Nesnan or Resai servants in order to keep a house such as this clean. They may have many talents of their own but it is nearly impossible for a dragon to reach all the nooks and crannies when it comes to cleaning.”

Jahrra stifled a giggle as the woman beckoned her through the door and into a great room, easily the size of the entire Castle Guard Ruin back in Oescienne.

Jahrra stopped her progress and stood staring in wonder. The ceiling was ridiculously tall, twenty feet at least, and a huge fireplace stood on the same wall as the great door. Just beside the fireplace on the left was one of those diamond paned windows perched right above a raised portion of the floor. Familiar pieces of furniture (tables, couches and chairs) were scattered around the room. A large, sprawling carpet covered most of the stone floor and Jahrra noticed two giant archways in the wall opposite her that led into what appeared to be a hallway.

“Master Jaax’s quarters and office are that way,” Neira nodded to the archway on the left, “and the stairs to the second storey quarters and the kitchen are this way.”

Neira proceeded towards the arch on the right but stopped before stepping through. She lifted her eyebrows and clasped her hands before her once again, waiting for Jahrra to join her.

Despite her eagerness to get to sleep, Jahrra allowed her eyes to linger on the main room a moment longer. It was so much finer than what she was used to and she wondered what it would be like living here.

Sighing with delight, she shuffled her feet and joined the housekeeper, glancing at a wooden door on her right as she made her way over.

“That door leads into the kitchen as well,” Neira said, guessing Jahrra’s curiosity. “Master Jaax often takes his meals in this room and that door makes it easier to get everything to him.”

Jahrra nodded. “Do you work here by yourself Neira? It seems like so much work for one person to do.”

The maid shrugged as she passed through the arch and into the hallway, dark because the many lanterns hanging on the walls were not lit. An ornate stone staircase, pressed up against the opposite wall and donning a stone hand rail, loomed before them. Jahrra blinked up and noticed a small balcony stretching across to the other wall. Her stomach fluttered at the sight. She truly was excited about being in this new and wondrous place.

“It isn’t so bad, working alone,” Neira finally said as she climbed the steps. “Master Raejaax is often not here so there isn’t much to clean and no one to cook for most of the time, so I manage quite well. I’m only responsible for the kitchen, mind, and will now be in charge of you as well. Raejaax hires someone to come every now and again to clean the windows, carpets and floors of the rest of the house.”

Jahrra inclined her head, climbing up after Neira, not pausing long enough to admire the ornate and colorful tapestries hanging from ceiling to floor all the way down the hallway and up the stairs. Finally, they reached the balcony and Jahrra had to blink back the light that flooded in. The second storey hallway was rather wide and on their right stood a series of windows all in a row. The ceiling wasn’t so high up here, maybe ten feet or a bit more, and the windows, though tapered like those downstairs, began a few feet above the ground before coming to a point just below the ceiling.

“This way!” Neira said cheerily, picking up her skirts and heading down the hall.

As they passed the first window Jahrra glanced out. She let out a slight gasp as she caught sight of the scene before her. A rooftop patio spread out beyond the slightly distorting panes. It was completely composed of stone and continued from where they stood all the way to the edge of the building several feet away. A stone balustrade, one made up of miniature columns, fenced in the terrace and a couple of planter boxes. One of the boxes contained young trees showing blossoms and leaves. Jahrra pressed closer to the glass but Neira’s voice startled her.

“Isn’t it lovely,” she whispered very close to Jahrra. “Most dragon homes don’t have such terraces atop their kitchen roofs, but this one does. See, that is where the oven chimney comes out,” Neira pointed to a square stone column that rose up against the southern wall that surely connected to the roof of the grand room below. Jahrra nodded, then noticed an open fireplace just beside it, stone chairs and a circular bench fanning out in front of it.

Jahrra took a deep breath and pushed back from the window. She wanted nothing more than to step out onto that patio and explore but she could barely keep her eyes open.

When she turned to face Neira the maid was smiling at her. “I know what I shall show you first after your long nap.”

Jahrra grinned in appreciation, nodding sleepily as the woman led her on down the hallway. They passed two more windows then Neira turned to her left, took a key from a pouch in her apron, and used it to open an ornately carved wooden door. The door swung open and the maid gestured her in. Jahrra was too stunned to react much and she blamed most of that on her weariness. That and her currently overwhelmed senses. The room was spacious and not quite square, not quite circular in shape. A grand four poster bed stood centered in the room with a ceiling to floor, double window just behind it. A writing desk hugged the curved wall to the right of the door and a small storage room stood between them. Jahrra let her tired eyes rake the room, taking in the wardrobe in one corner and the curtain hiding a tiny closet just on the other side of it.

In a numb daze, Jahrra followed a smiling Neira deeper into the room. A thick, plush rug, a soft moss green in color, was spread out beside the bed. The golden light of early morning flooded in from the crystalline glass, casting shards of brightness upon the stone floor. The empty spaces of the tall walls were covered in tapestries and Jahrra took a moment to study them. She nearly cried out in delight when she noticed two were maps, one of Felldreim and one of Ethöes, the latter looking exactly like the old map Hroombra had kept in the old Castle Guard Ruin.

Before she could take in any more Neira led her to the bed. “Sleep now. You can get a good look at everything when your mind is sharp once again.”

The maid helped Jahrra out of her shoes and drew the shades on the windows. Jahrra barely remembered murmuring a word of thanks as the door clicked shut then, lost in the bliss of a soft mattress and an even softer pillow, she was asleep.

-Chapter Seven-

The City of Light

It felt like moments later when Jahrra woke. She blamed it on the strong hunger pangs in her stomach but before she could do anything to remedy the feeling, she had to lie there for several moments, her eyes blinking against the dark. She felt comfortable, too comfortable, and it took her a very long time to remember what had happened the day before.

Sitting up and stretching, she climbed down from the tall bed, slightly stiff and feeling ruffled from sleeping in her clothes. She felt her way to the drapes and threw them open. The light was weaker than before but when she peered through one of the glass panes she caught a glimpse of the ocean in the near distance. Reaching for the latch, she pulled the window open and drew in a deep breath. The window let out onto a tiny semi-circular patio that faced west. The view was spectacular: the great bay stretching beyond the tops of the trees, the hills guarding the western entrance to the inlet looking black in the light of the setting sun.

The growing chill of the encroaching night finally convinced Jahrra to close the windows and latch them shut but she refused to draw the drapes. With such a view she couldn’t imagine herself wanting to do that ever again.

Sighing and ignoring her growing hunger, she glanced around the darkening room. She wanted to take a few minutes to familiarize herself with her surroundings before seeking out the housemaid or her guardian. She made her way over to the desk and smiled when she found a candle and some matches. After lighting the candle she managed to locate a few more lanterns spread throughout the room. Using her candle, she lit the lanterns one after the other, wrapping the room in a cocoon of soft light.

Once she could see properly, Jahrra decided to examine the desk first. It had a spacious top, several drawers and a chair to match. Two narrow bookshelves stood on either end of the desk while another ran horizontally to rest on top of the other two. A map drawn out on paper or animal hide was tacked to the wall in the space between the shelves. Jahrra felt her eyes prick a little when she realized it was a detailed drawing of Oescienne. She turned in the chair she had unknowingly sat upon and looked back at the tapestries of Felldreim and Ethöes on the opposite wall. That is when she noticed there were others.

She stood, taking her candle with her and wandered about the room, looking at each woven work of art in turn. There were the two maps she had noticed before her long nap and a larger one depicting dragons in an aerial battle; an epic scene with plenty of mythical creatures bordered by a twining design of blood roses. But it was the last tapestry that made her nearly drop her candle in shock. It was wider than it was tall and it took up the largest wall space, the space between her bedroom door and the place where the small closet stood.

If her emotions hadn’t been moved before by the map of Oescienne, this tapestry would have no doubt done the job. Clasping a hand over her mouth, her eyes filling with unshed tears, Jahrra held the candle up to the wall-hanging and closely examined every detail. It was so realistic that she felt as if she were standing in the very place it depicted. It was the view of Oescienne, her Oescienne, from the Castle Guard Ruin.

The time depicted in the tapestry was somewhere between noon and approaching sunset, the shadows beginning to grow long and the dunes taking on a more golden hue. The ocean was as blue as ever and the fields were patches of green and purple. Lake Ossar stood out as a gleaming pool in the upper left hand corner and the outskirts of Aldehren appeared as stone and wood structures tucked behind a hill. The Aldehren River twined and curved like a cerulean snake, making its way to the sea.

Jahrra placed her hand against her forehead and sighed. This was the closest thing to being back home she could ever imagine and she wasn’t sure if she would ever want to leave this room again. Feeling suddenly weary, she made her way over to the desk and dragged the matching chair across the room, centering it between the four poster bed and the tapestry. She wasn’t sure how long she sat there, taking in all the details of the wall-hanging, but at some point in time someone knocked on her door. Jahrra barely heard it.

“Yes?” she asked faintly, not taking her eyes from the wall.

“Miss Jahrra? It’s me, Neira. May I come in?”

Jahrra made a sound of consent and the next thing she knew the maid was standing next to her.

“Is anything amiss?” she queried, placing a hand on the back of Jahrra’s chair and looking around the room warily.

Jahrra turned and blinked, taking in the woman behind her for the first time. Her eyes were nearly the same shade of brown as her hair, but they were kind, wise eyes. She had several years on Jahrra but she wasn’t so much older that she could be considered middle aged. Jahrra guessed she was Resai but she could just as easily be Nesnan. The way she had her hair pulled back in a bun covered the tips of her ears.

“No,” Jahrra finally breathed, returning her gaze to the tapestry, “nothing is amiss at all.”

Neira considered what Jahrra was staring at. “You like this tapestry?”

Jahrra nodded numbly.

The housekeeper smiled but Jahrra didn’t notice it. “It’s a lovely view. I wonder,” but Neira never finished what she was about to say. Jaax’s voice called from below, demanding to know where everybody was.

“Oh, I almost forgot why I came up here! To fetch you down to dinner. Are you hungry?”

Jahrra felt her stomach rumble and finally her obsession with the tapestry seemed to dissipate. She nodded and stood up from the chair, following the housekeeper out into the hall. It was twilight now and all was growing dark outside on the terrace. Someone had lit the lanterns that hung on the wall, their yellow glow forming globes of light all down the right side of the upper hallway.

The lanterns continued on along the wall, descending with the stairs, and when Neira led Jahrra through the large arch and into the main entrance room a wall of warmth, light and scent hit her. Jahrra blinked at the blazing fire and the multitude of lamps that decked the tall walls. A table large enough to seat four or more stood off to one side and upon it waited several trays and dishes that steamed and gave off the wonderful aromas she had detected when first entering this space.

Jaax stood there as well, slightly in front of the fire with one foot on a raised portion of the floor that sat in front of the tall window. He arched an eyebrow upon seeing Jahrra and cleared his throat.

“Well rested I take it?” he asked.

Jahrra simply nodded, allowing Neira to direct her to the table.

“I found her sitting in her desk chair fifteen feet away from that tapestry, the large one, staring at it as if it were speaking to her.”

Neira clucked her tongue and shook her head, patting Jahrra’s hair with the affection of an older sister. Jahrra felt slightly annoyed. She wasn’t some wayward child that was claiming to have seen gnomes pattering about her room, but she was still too overwhelmed to protest. Besides, it was nice knowing that Neira had taken a liking to her.

Jaax allowed both eyebrows to rise this time and Jahrra was relieved not to see a single trace of mockery in his look.

“Is that so?” he finally said.

Neira nodded profusely once again. “Aye. Could it be spelled do you think?”

“No,” Jaax answered as he pulled his full weight up onto the small shelf below the window. “It’s merely a scene that would have some meaning to Jahrra.”

He settled himself then shot Neira a look as she opened her mouth to say something else. “Thank you Neira, you may retire for the evening.”

Whatever she was about to say, or ask, was never voiced. The housekeeper merely nodded once then sketched a neat curtsey and smiled at Jahrra before bustling away through the small door that led into the kitchen.

Several moments of silence passed between Jahrra and her guardian before Jahrra finally decided to ask Jaax about the tapestry. It was too fine a thing to have been wrought easily and it was too detailed to have been made by an artist who had never visited the Castle Guard Ruin. Someone familiar with Oescienne had to have either made it or had to have been present during the making of it in order to get all the details right.

Jahrra reached for a warm loaf of bread, pulling off a steaming chunk and placing it atop a plate. She cleared her throat and kept her eyes on the table.

“The tapestry,” she finally managed, barely getting the words out, “the one of Oescienne, did you . . .?”

“Commission an artist to create it?” Jaax responded immediately, as if he’d been waiting for her question, “Yes.”

Jahrra felt her mouth go dry. If Jaax had any idea of how much that scene meant to her, to see it hanging on the wall as if it were a window into her home . . .

“How?” was all she could muster. Tapestries weren’t simple rugs to be woven in a week’s time.

Jaax lifted a large goblet between his clawed fingers and took a drink. After some time, he set the goblet back down and grinned. “It’s amazing how quickly the elves can produce such masterpieces. One day I shall take you to watch them at their work. It’s quite a wonder to see.”

Jahrra nodded numbly and got back to the business of making a plate for herself. Whether he had employed magic or not she was beyond grateful for its creation. It had been so hard to leave Oescienne behind but now she would have a reminder, a piece of her past she would be able to hold onto, to draw strength from. If I ever forget why I left everything behind and followed a dragon into the wilderness and onto a path that very well may lead to my destruction, I will have that tapestry to remind me of why I did it in the first place: to protect what I care most about. Jahrra got back to her meal and the two of them returned to their companionable silence.

Jaax drank from his goblet and Jahrra worked on the bread, fruit and thick soup Neira had set out on the table. For a while she watched her guardian out of the corner of her eye. It was so very strange seeing him in this elegant, cultured environment. She was so used to the brusque, practical Jaax that seeing him now, behaving properly and displaying the highest class of manners, made her wonder if it was a different dragon altogether that had come with her to Lidien. Of course, he had always given off that aura of nobility in her mind but he never had any real reason to display it at the far-from-elegant Castle Guard Ruin.

Finally, Jaax cleared his throat and spoke up, “Classes for the next session at the University don’t start for another several weeks. I feel it is in your best interest that we sign you up for new classes instead of trying to catch up with what you’ve missed. That should also give us time to get settled in here.”

Jahrra looked up abruptly, nearly choking on her soup. Of all things for Jaax to say she hadn’t expected that. Of course, in the back of her mind she knew she would be attending the University when she came to stay in Lidien, but it hadn’t been discussed once on their long journey here.

“How long will we be staying in Lidien then?” Jahrra braved.

She imagined she would like this beautiful and enchanted city. She liked what she’d seen so far at least. She hoped they would be staying longer than a few months, especially if Jaax was going to enroll her in school.

Jaax sighed but it wasn’t an irritated sigh. “I honestly can’t say. If it were up to me we would be here for at least two years but I can’t guarantee that. It all depends on what is happening outside the province and if our presence here becomes known by those who mean us harm.”

Jahrra nodded. She knew exactly what he meant. They had come here to escape the clutches of the Crimson King’s men but if they were somehow discovered, or if it was found out they were hiding here, it could mean danger for everyone else. True, Felldreim was the province with the most magic and they would be safe at its heart, but that didn’t mean the Tyrant wouldn’t try other tactics to draw them out. Find friends and loved ones outside Felldreim’s borders to use against them . . . Jahrra shivered at the idea of that horrible scarred man bringing a legion of Cierryon’s men down upon Gieaun and Scede’s ranch.

“We’ll just have to make what time we have here as productive as possible,” Jaax continued.

Jahrra nodded and poured herself something to drink from the chilled pitcher on her table. It tasted like spring water and berries.

“Tomorrow will be a busy day for us,” the dragon went on, reaching for his goblet again. “While you slept I visited some of the members of the Coalition who are currently in town. They are very eager to meet you.”

He wrinkled his nose and eyed Jahrra with a combination of humor and trepidation. “I’ll be sure to have Neira lay out your best clothes but I think a visit to the seamstress first thing in the morning wouldn’t be such a bad idea.” The Tanaan dragon took a breath. “You’ll be needing some dresses if you’re to be meeting with dignitaries and nobles.”

Jahrra nearly inhaled her drink. “Dignitaries and nobles?” she managed as she wiped her mouth.

Jaax cringed. “I was expecting you to be more averse to the dresses.”

His grin made Jahrra smile, despite the fact that she had also been wondering about having to wear dresses. But the noble class? Why would they want anything to do with me? she wondered. Eydeth and Ellysian hadn’t been noble, well at least they could never actually prove it one way or the other, and even they despised her. How was she supposed to live up to the standards of royals and those who lived among them? The thought made her cringe.

Up until a few months ago she had been a simple Nesnan of no consequence and despite the fact that Jaax had informed her she was the only human in Ethöes, one that many had been waiting for for a very long time, it didn’t magically change the way she had grown up. Hroombra and her foster parents had had a bigger impression on her than anything Jaax could do now. It would take her a long while to get used to the attention, praise and even hatred she would receive now that everyone knew who and what she really was.

Jaax stood, stretching his wings in the wide open space of the great room and said, “I’ll send Neira to wake you in the morning. We’ll stop by the seamstress’s first thing; she is open before most businesses. Then we’ll make our way to the heart of the city where we’ll meet those select Coalition members who are not previously engaged in meetings and appointments for the day.”

Jahrra looked up from her plate. “Select members?”

Jaax grinned as he stepped down from his shelf by the window. “You won’t be meeting the entire Coalition here in Lidien for quite a while yet.”

Jahrra cleared her throat. “Just how many members of the Coalition are there exactly?”

“Throughout Ethöes or here in the city?”

“Here in the city.”

Jahrra had a bad feeling she didn’t want to know the number of members throughout the world.

Jaax seemed to think for a moment, tallying the number up in his head. “When we are in full session, when most members are required to attend a meeting,” he answered, “I’d say one hundred fifty to two hundred. If you count the unofficial members, ten times as many as that. But they won’t be attending any of the meetings.”

Jahrra made a sound of fear and surprise. That many? Really? She wanted to go back upstairs, sit in a corner and melt away.

“Don’t worry,” Jaax said, seeing her face, “we’ll only be meeting five or six tomorrow.”

The sigh of relief coming from Jahrra could have blown down a tree.

“Now, it’s been at least a week since I’ve slept soundly, so I’ll bid you goodnight.”

Jahrra nodded, still trying to wrap the idea of two hundred nobles and delegates around her head. Would she have to meet all of them and learn all of their names and titles? What about all those unofficial members? And just how many members of the Coalition existed outside of Felldreim? The thought gave her a headache.

“You should get some rest, too,” Jaax said, his voice closer this time.

Jahrra had been lost in thought and hadn’t noticed him step closer.

“I know you slept the day away but our trip here wasn’t the easiest of journeys.”

Jahrra nodded and stood. “What about my dishes?” she asked, eyeing the nearly empty bowl and cup in front of her.

“Neira will tend to it,” Jaax shot over his shoulder before disappearing through the great arch to the left.

Jahrra sighed. Someone to clean up after her? That was an odd and somewhat uncomfortable notion. Well, she thought, I’m beginning to think there will be a lot to get used to in this new city; in this new life.

* * *

The morning after arriving in Lidien, Jahrra rose early and joined her guardian on the promised trip into the city. Jaax had reminded her on their way out that he would be introducing her to a select number of Coalition members, but those members she did meet weren’t even close to what she’d expected. It turned out that the seamstress they visited first, Mistress Bearra, was a minor member of the Coalition, as was the cobbler they visited next and their waiter for lunch at a nearby restaurant. Once Jahrra figured out she wouldn’t be meeting any high lords or ladies that day she relaxed.

“You think I would throw you in with the sharks on your very first day?” Jaax had asked incredulously.

“Yes,” Jahrra answered with feeling as they made their way back to the estate on the hill, a small donkey-drawn cart carrying Jahrra’s purchases behind them. “That’s what you did before taking me to meet Yaraa and Viornen.”

Jaax winced and braved a glance at his ward. She was fingering the scale on the silver chain she usually kept out of sight. Jaax couldn’t decide if she had reached for it on purpose or if it was done completely out of habit.

“Ah, well, that was different,” he said eventually. “You needed a little rough handling in your life then.”

Jahrra looked at him but didn’t argue. He was right after all, but she wasn’t about to tell him so. Instead she released a sigh as she led Phrym up the drive. She smiled and gave him a pat on the neck, pleased to know he was to be kept nearby. He seemed happy enough living with the other semequins and horses in the fine city stable. And the best part about it was its location. Like Jaax had said, it was situated just at the base of their hill and could be accessed from a trail that started behind the house.

“The walk is no more than fifteen minutes,” Jaax had assured her that morning, “but I don’t want you taking it at night. If you find yourself coming in after dark, take a carriage from the stable up the main drive. Lidien is a very safe city but there are still those out there who might entertain their own ideas on how to welcome you.”

Jahrra shivered a little. She didn’t need to ask Jaax to elaborate.

As the weeks passed Jahrra found herself settling into her new life in Lidien. A good amount of that time had consisted of Jaax leading her around like a puppy, showing her the University and getting her familiar with the route to and from their house. He took her to fine mansions perched upon the hills surrounding the city, or to fancy inns where he would introduce her to other members of the Coalition or high ranking dignitaries. Jahrra would bow politely as one titled lord or lady was introduced after the other. She felt rather odd when they returned the gesture but she managed to keep a polite smile on her face without collapsing into a heap on the ground.

When she was at home she insisted on helping Neira with tending the garden and even preparing the meals. At first the housemaid refused, declaring it was not Jahrra’s place, but in her usual fashion Jahrra was able to coerce her into allowing her to help.

“Please Neira, I enjoy working in the garden,” she would say. “And I’d like to learn to cook, too.”

On the days Neira didn’t need any help at home, and when Jaax was off on some important task or another, she would ride Phrym through the city just for the sake of riding and getting to know her way around a little better. Since her guardian hadn’t yet formally introduced her to every single member of the Coalition, she could still remain somewhat anonymous among the people of Lidien. She wondered when she would be invited to attend one of the several Coalition meetings that kept Jaax away most of the day and sometimes well into the night, but he had only sighed and told her soon.

Her guardian went to at least three meetings a week and sometimes she wouldn’t see him for two days straight. Jahrra wondered what they discussed to make them last so long and although she longed to find out, she dreaded it as well. She knew she would be a major topic of discussion when she finally showed her face and that thought alone frightened her.

To help rid her mind of troublesome thoughts, Jahrra decided to focus most of her attention on her new home. Things were different in Lidien. No one seemed to mind Jaax’s presence and on many occasions she spotted other dragons like the ones she had seen when they first arrived in the city. There were other races besides dragons here: centaurs and cenikets and many other creatures and beings she didn’t recognize, some tall with the features of both elves and animals, some short, looking more like dwarves.

The city itself had a very urgent pulse to it though on many of her outings with Phrym she had discovered nooks and corners where the people had slowed down to take a break, where the pleasant clamor of the streets didn’t quite reach. Small outdoor shops selling tea and cakes, bookstores and tiny gardens tucked away every now and again gave Lidien just a hint of small town charm.

Jahrra often smiled as she and Phrym (and sometimes Jaax or Neira) enjoyed their long walks. This city loved its gardens. It seemed that every business, house or building had at least a tiny patch of earth or a window box to grow flowers and vegetables. By the end of the first week in her new home, Jahrra felt as if she’d been in Lidien her entire life.

The week before the next session at the University was to start, Jahrra and Jaax settled down in the great common room in front of a fire and poured over several pamphlets advertising the many courses the school had to offer. Jaax thought it would be most useful for Jahrra to take a variety of classes and to her great surprise, he allowed her to pick most of her own lessons with very few protests.

Jahrra chose a general class on the history of Ethöes, a mathematics course (that she agreed only to take because Jaax allowed her to pick the rest), a class that compared and discussed the myths and legends of the world and finally, the most appealing, a course that focused on the wildlife of Felldreim, both plant and animal alike.

“There is also a practice field nearby that you can utilize to keep up on the lessons you were taking with Yaraa and Viornen,” Jaax added.

Jahrra grimaced. It had been nearly three months since she’d last practiced with the elves and she knew she was falling out of shape.

“I’m sure you’ll meet a few people in your classes who would be interested in sparring with you.”

Jahrra gave Jaax an inquisitive look, not sure if that last comment was supposed to be a compliment or a jibe. Nevertheless, Jahrra hoped he was right. She could move through the exercises on her own but it wasn’t the same as having another person to practice with.

In the evenings when her guardian was home, Jahrra reviewed her basic lessons from Hroombra and the schoolhouse in Aldehren with Jaax. The night before she was to start her first day she was so nervous she couldn’t imagine ever falling asleep. Eventually, however, Jaax insisted she get to bed so that she could have a fresh start. Sighing, she reluctantly obeyed. She had no idea what to expect from the University. Would it be anything like her school in Aldehren? Surely not, for she wasn’t a naïve little girl anymore, was she?

Screwing her face up in determination, she climbed the stairs, entered her room and set her mind on slumber. She would face the morning with a renewed sense of strength. You have been through more than what most people have been through and you’ve survived, she told herself. You will not be afraid of a classroom full of strangers.

Despite Jahrra’s resolve, it took her ages to fall asleep, her nerves still a shambles when she finally did.

-Chapter Eight-

Friendly Strangers and Stranger Friends

The building seemed to go on forever, its massive columns looking like the bleached white skeletons of some ancient forest. People of various ages and descriptions pushed past her, adding to the buzz of busy chatter. Jahrra swallowed hard, her right hand clutching the strap of her bag, the other hand busy holding her schedule and campus map while trying not to shake. There were only fifteen more steps or so until she met the entrance of Emehriel Hall, the massive University building towering before her.

All of the buildings, Jaax had told her on their way to the University that morning, were named after a star or constellation.

When she had asked him why, he merely smiled and said, “The stars are our grandest symbols of enlightenment. Besides, it’s a wonderful way to help us remember our astronomy lore, don’t you think?”

Jahrra turned and looked down at Jaax now. He stood in the main plaza which was equally crowded with students, professors and people who were just passing through. He looked ridiculously small to her, despite the fact that he couldn’t be more than a hundred feet away from where she stood. Jaax nodded but Jahrra noticed his tense stature. Was he nervous too? Worried about leaving her alone in her first class? Jahrra felt like bursting into hysterics. She was a grown woman, well, nearly a grown woman, and she was only going off to class for goodness sake.

Taking another deep breath, she pushed aside her anxiety and climbed the remaining stairs. The crowd seemed smaller once she reached the top and she found the shade cast by the great columns soothing.

Brushing back a loose strand of hair, Jahrra entered one of the many doors that stood wide open and found herself in a great foyer. Posters and schedules hung along the walls and two hallways split and trailed off in opposite directions along the far wall. The chatter of people echoed strangely in the place, making it seem much bigger than it was.

Jahrra glanced down at her schedule, trying to discern the number of the room for her history class. The boom of footsteps and loud snap and slam of doors being opened and closed added to the noisy atmosphere while the brilliant colors of a stained glass window somewhere far above painted the sheet of paper she held with blue, gold and red.

Jahrra found the room number then consulted her map. She looked up and began walking forward. Her classroom was down the right hand hallway but as she began to turn she caught a glimpse through the door just in front of her. Jahrra stopped in her tracks and stared. The room was huge with seats cascading down towards a large stage set below. She glanced up at the sign hanging above the four massive doors that led into the room: Essýel Auditorium.

“Essýel,” a voice said behind her, “the Torch-bearer that lights our way at night.”

Jahrra jumped and looked up. She had to work hard to keep her mouth from falling open. She had read about centaurs and Hroombra had told her stories about them, but she had never actually seen one before.

The centaur crossed his arms over his chest and continued on as if he hadn’t noticed her reaction, “This auditorium is mostly used for meetings of groups and organizations that wish to promote peace or change. Every so often a class will be held here, but only if it’s an immensely popular one.”

The creature smiled and Jahrra felt some of her apprehension melt away. He had dark hair, long enough to brush his shoulders, and hazel eyes that reflected his smile. He seemed nice enough but Jahrra wasn’t sure what to say. Luckily, she didn’t have to say anything.

“Well,” he said as casually as before, “I had better be off. I don’t want to keep you from your class.”

Jahrra nodded numbly and watched as he made his way in the opposite direction, his hoof beats sounding louder than the other footsteps.

Shaking her head, Jahrra continued on down the hall, finding her class a few minutes before the professor arrived. A few students were already present and a few more arrived after her. Everyone chose to spread out in the smallish room, each taking a seat as far away from the next person as possible. Their instructor was an older man who seemed well dressed and well mannered.

Jahrra took out a piece of parchment from her bag and started taking notes as he jumped right into their history lesson. About halfway through the class Jahrra realized that she already knew everything he was telling them. Apparently Hroombra had been a much better teacher than she had ever thought. She set her quill beside her notes and sat back, deciding to only jot down what sounded like new information.

Towards the end of the class she noticed that the young man sitting behind and to the side of her was giving her a quizzical look. He looked about her own age and had sandy hair and a roguish grin. Jahrra turned her attention back towards the front of the classroom, gritting her teeth and crossing her arms. She hated being the object of anyone’s attention and something about her classmate made her uncomfortable.

A few minutes more and class was over. Jahrra grabbed her bag and tried to leave the room as quickly as possible but as she made her way back up the hall the young man from her history class caught up to her.

“Hey, wait,” he called, running up beside her, “I noticed you stopped taking notes halfway through class, do you want to borrow mine?”

Jahrra stopped abruptly and the young man had to catch himself. The other students walking through the hall gave them perturbed looks, muttering complaints about rudeness and people blocking the flow of traffic as they continued on.

Jahrra eyed him warily but found only an innocent smile on his face. He was taller than her and had clear grey eyes. She tried to find deceit there but his friendliness seemed genuine.

“Um, no thanks,” Jahrra answered shakily, “I realized that I already knew what he was telling us.”

She hiked her bag further up her shoulder and pressed on. She had a half hour before her next class, mathematics, so she wasn’t worried about being late but for some reason she wanted to get away from her overly pleasant classmate.

“Wait, maybe you can give me some pointers.” The young man came running up again, pulling his own bag close as it jostled around, bumping into people.

They had passed through the great foyer and were now at the top of the steps, the bright mid-morning sun glaring down on them. Jahrra kept moving, pretending like she hadn’t heard him. She raced down the stairs, trying not to run into anyone else while staying on her feet.

Halfway down she made the mistake of looking up. She stopped and gritted her teeth. Jaax stood beside a great oak tree, half of its canopy spreading over the plaza, the other half reaching over the lawn and a section of the steps in front of Emehriel Hall. Had he waited for her? She would have been touched if she hadn’t been so eager to get away from the boy that was now standing behind her.

Before he could say anything else, Jahrra hurried down to stand in front of Jaax.

“Did you wait this whole time for me?” she demanded, dropping her bag onto a patch of shady grass.

Jaax merely grinned and shrugged. “I wanted to make sure everything went well. So, did it?”

Jahrra groaned. He was the only dragon standing in the plaza at the moment and more than several people were giving him a curious look.

The young man from her history class stepped up behind her. “You know a dragon? I’ve seen many here in Lidien but I’ve never actually worked up the courage to talk to one.”

Jaax arched a scaly brow and spoke, his voice a little harder this time, “So you’ve made a friend already Jahrra. Are you going to introduce us?”

Jahrra groaned and buried her face in her hands. She wanted to die of embarrassment but unfortunately, Ethöes wasn’t that kind.

“I, I don’t really know him,” she finally mumbled, “he’s in my history class and we haven’t exchanged names yet.”

She turned to the young man, the situation now making it necessary to acknowledge him. He already had his hand thrust out, a huge grin on his face. “Senton,” he said, “and you are Jahrra, right?”

Jahrra took the offered hand, wincing at the strength and fierceness of his handshake. “Yes, pleased to meet you. And this is Jaax.”

She pointed over her shoulder, not wanting to look at her guardian.

“Jaax?” Senton dropped her hand as if it were an adder he had accidentally picked up. “As in, Raejaaxorix?”

The boy seemed to pale and loose a bit of the enthusiasm he’d had before. Jahrra didn’t know whether to smirk or cringe again. Was Jaax known throughout the whole of Ethöes? She tossed that thought around and came to the conclusion that she wouldn’t be surprised if he were.

“The very same,” Jaax said.

Senton took a step back and bent in a small bow. “An honor to meet you, sir. My father, he’s, well, he’s a member of the Coalition. Only a minor member of course but he speaks well of you.”

Jahrra could only stand back and watch this conversation unfold. What would her new ‘friend’ do when he found out who she was? Jahrra braced herself. She only hoped it wasn’t a repeat of what had happened in Crie . . .

“What is your father’s name?” Jaax asked, his head cocked at an angle as he scrutinized Senton.

“Loress, originally of Noehtsedth in Cunnan Creí. We moved to Lidien after my mother died.” Senton paused for a moment, his rigid stance tightening a bit, his eyes glancing to the side.

Jahrra frowned. She imagined the loss was fairly recent, perhaps within the year. A small part of her defenses dropped. Perhaps this young man wasn’t as different from her as she thought.

Senton seemed to find his voice again, “We moved here half a year ago and, luckily, my father has found work managing a trade shop.”

Jaax dropped his chin. “I am sorry for your loss.”

There was a moment where none of them said anything, as if to think over what they had all just learned. After some time Jaax spoke again, “Your father, Senton, do you have the look of him?”

Senton nodded, his smile and charm seeming to return. “Yes, all us boys do. My sister though, she looks like my mother.”

The sadness wasn’t so apparent that time and Jahrra was glad. It hadn’t looked good on him.

“I believe I’ve seen your father before. I’ll be sure to speak with him at our next meeting.”

Senton looked as if someone had just handed him a year’s worth of gold. Jahrra had to stifle a grin and the feeling of absurdity that overcame her. She found it strange how people reacted to Jaax, and now herself. Perhaps she would someday become accustomed to it but she imagined that day was far off.

“I had best leave you two to your classes then,” Jaax said, looking about his surroundings as if seeing them for the first time. “I have a busy schedule today so if I’m not back before dark Jahrra, don’t wait up for me.”

Jahrra nodded as her guardian turned to walk away. She pulled out her map to locate her next class, the one that was now to start in ten minutes. Luckily, it was only a few buildings away in Fehryan Hall. As she walked, Senton joined her.

“You live with him?!”

Jahrra bit her lip. Yes, how to explain that without telling him who she was. It wasn’t that she didn’t want to, or was afraid to, it just seemed so ridiculous to her. Hello, I’m Jahrra, and I’m the human girl the Oracles prophesied would come and save the world. No, that didn’t sound stupid at all.

Shrugging, Jahrra said, “Yes.”

And that was all she was going to say, for the moment at least. Luckily, Senton seemed distracted enough by the simple fact that she lived with the famous Tanaan dragon Raejaaxorix that he didn’t put the rest together. Jahrra secretly thanked Ethöes for the small grace period she had granted her. There was no way she was going to be able to keep her identity secret forever. Best enjoy the anonymity while it lasted.

Senton walked with her to her next class since he didn’t have class again until the afternoon, the wildlife course that she just so happened to be enrolled in as well. The young man was ecstatic to learn this and had no qualms in letting her know.

As he waved goodbye, Jahrra contemplated him for a moment before stepping into her mathematics building. Maybe he was just one of those people who enjoyed the company of others. Why he sought out her company in particular, Jahrra wasn’t sure. She shrugged. It would be nice having friends here in Lidien but she knew it would be a bittersweet experience. She and Jaax would eventually be leaving and it would only hurt when they had to leave their friends behind. Again.

Jahrra shook this feeling off and tried to focus on her math lesson. It was as brutal as she had feared and she hoped that Senton knew more about math than she did or else she was going to be in a lot of trouble without someone to help her along.

At midday she ate her packed lunch in one of the small parks that dotted the University campus. She watched students and professors alike, scurrying to class or strolling along leisurely. One older man in particular, an instructor for sure, walked briskly by, muttering under his breath and keeping a hand on his odd hat as his deep blue robes fluttered with his steps. A group of people her age were playing some game several feet away, their laughter drifting on the gentle breeze as it rustled through the fresh leaves and older blossoms of the trees. The University campus had a cheerful, eager feel to it, like a young child leaning forward to hear the ending of an exciting story.

Jahrra finished her sandwich and rose from her perch upon a stone bench. She stretched and took out her map once again. Her next class, the one on the wildlife of Felldreim, was close by in a smaller building named Carlhoren House. If she remembered correctly, Carlhoren was one of the stars in the constellation that represented the Baherhb in the night sky. The memory of the dragons’ symbol pricked her heart for a small moment, for it also reminded her of Hroombra.

Jahrra dusted herself off and left her bench behind. She decided to get to her next class early, taking her time moving through the grove of trees indicated on the map. As she walked, she breathed in the fresh air of late spring. A paved trail wound its way around the trunks of the mixed deciduous and evergreen trees and the babble of a small stream gradually overtook the sound of a thousand voices and shuffling feet. At one point, the stream passed below the path and Jahrra had to pause on a small foot bridge to watch the stream pass over a cluster of large rocks.

Eventually, the trail curved off to the left and Jahrra found herself gazing at what appeared to be a sizeable stone cottage. According to her map, this was Carlhoren House. She was half an hour early, so she wasn’t surprised to find no one else about. The building was rather secluded, separated from the main campus by the small wood that encroached upon its southernmost corner. While she waited, Jahrra examined her surroundings to pass the time. The house sported a chimney and two windows and a rather large door. A porch ran around half of it and Jahrra could see an open glade on the other side.

Twenty minutes passed before she saw another person. A girl her age came strolling up the path, her hands thrust in her pockets and a look of bored resolve on her face. Before Jahrra could even smile in her direction, more students began filtering down the path, joining in conversations with people they knew or standing around idly trying to ignore everyone else. Jahrra decided to be one of the latter; she had made her friend for the day.

The sound of a doorknob turning brought everyone’s attention forward. A young man, maybe five or so years older than Jahrra, if she was judging correctly, stepped out from the large door and eyed everyone present. Was this their professor? He seemed a bit young.

“Hello everyone,” he said, sounding slightly nervous, “Professor Anthar is running a bit late and would like me to let you in.”

Jahrra lifted an eyebrow. Maybe this man was his assistant. She took a breath and joined the crowd that was now shuffling in. A voice just behind her whispered, “That was close! I got lost and nearly didn’t make it!”

She turned and smiled. It was Senton and he did look rather flustered. The girl who had arrived after Jahrra turned back and gave them a pointed look. Her skin was several shades darker than Jahrra’s own and her black hair curled into thousands of tight ringlets. Jahrra tried a smile but the girl simply turned and focused once again on getting inside the building.

Do I have something in my teeth? Jahrra wondered. She shrugged and let the thought drop. She was curious to see what this new classroom would be like. The interior of the building was rather plain with little or no furnishings. The windows let in a good deal of light but the trees blocked out most of it.

“Anthar, uh, Professor Anthar, will be here soon. He asked me to start introductions until he arrives, then we’ll get on with the lesson,” the man from before announced.

He stood with his hands clasped behind his back. He was about as tall as Senton, maybe a few inches taller, and had dark brown hair he kept pulled back in a ponytail. His eyes were a pale blue-green and partly hidden behind a pair of narrow spectacles. He was neatly dressed in a tunic, vest and trousers and it was only after he cleared his throat and started talking once again that Jahrra noticed his very pointed ears.

“My name is Dathian and I am Professor Anthar’s aide, but I’ll be taking part in this class as well.”

He shuffled his feet nervously before continuing on, “In the coming months, you’ll be learning about the creatures and plants that populate the province of Felldreim, primarily the ones that contain magic.”

A hand shot up from someone in the crowd and Jahrra noticed it was the girl who had given her and Senton that withering look on their way in.

“Yes?” Dathian asked, his dark brows arched above his glasses.

“Yeah,” she said, “where might the professor be? It’s a little unprofessional to be late for your own class, don’t you think? Especially on the first day.”

Jahrra felt her jaw drop open and Senton made a strange sound in his throat. Dathian, the poor soul, began to turn slightly pink. But the girl stood and waited as if what she had said could never in a million years be construed as rude. When Jahrra got over her surprise she realized that the girl hadn’t asked the question in a flippant manner, but with the confidence of someone like, well, like Jaax.

Dathian took a breath and said, “I don’t know the answer to that, but I’m sure he has good reason.”

“Aye, that I do,” someone said from the doorway. “Forgive me, I was just securing a few extra, supplies.”

Jahrra jumped and nearly bumped into the three girls standing next to her. They gave her a harassed look and she muttered an apology. It seemed it was a day for surprises. The person standing in the doorway, their professor, was the very centaur she had spoken to that morning, or, who had spoken to her. This time he donned a leather vest covered in too many pockets to count.

He stepped forward, flicking his black tail over his buckskin hide and nodded towards the nervous elf standing in the center of all the students.

“Thank you Dathian, I’ll take over from here,” he said. “As you might have guessed, I’m your professor for the class titled Natural Wildlife of Felldreim. My name is Anthar and you can call me thus or place the title ‘Professor’ before it, but I don’t mind either.”

He looked at Jahrra, smiled, and nodded his head ever so slightly as if recalling her from that morning. Jahrra grinned back, feeling suddenly sheepish.

After his introduction Anthar began to describe what the class would entail in great detail. They would be doing much of their studying and learning outdoors and would even be traveling outside the city and into the wilderness beyond to see what they could find. The reason he was late, it turned out, was because he was having trouble gathering a collection of butterflies that resembled flower petals.

Before the end of the class, everyone was to examine their butterfly and using a field guide, match it up with the flower it mimicked. Jahrra paired up with Senton for this assignment, being that he was the only person she knew. To their great delight, they learned that their butterfly resembled a flower whose petals could be used as an antiseptic if placed against a wound and secured snuggly. This, in turn, started a discussion on the flowers they were researching and how they might be of use. By the end of the class, Jahrra decided it was her favorite, even knowing she had two more new classes tomorrow.

The class lasted an hour and a half and as the students poured out of the large cabin, they were all abuzz with what they had learned. Senton offered to walk Jahrra to the University stables where she had left Phrym early that morning, but she informed him she wanted to check out the practice fields Jaax had told her about.

“You know how to use a sword?!” he asked, his eyes wide in wonder.

Jahrra shrugged. “I hope so. It’s been three months since I’ve practiced.”

“Oh, you have got to teach me! Can I come with you? My father won’t need me home until after sundown.”

Senton sounded so eager and Jahrra did need a sparring partner, so she happily agreed. As the two of them walked, they talked about their classes and their likes and dislikes. To Jahrra’s great relief, Senton didn’t ask too much about her past. Nor did he question her about Jaax either. She did admit that she knew several forms of fighting and defense and that she also enjoyed archery, but Senton seemed more eager about the fact that he’d found someone to teach him than curious as to how she had learned everything in the first place.

Once at the University stables, Senton retrieved his horse, a chestnut gelding of mild temper, while Jahrra found Phrym. The semequin was overjoyed to see her, making his excitement known by whinnying and tossing his head to the point of annoying the other horses.

“Alright Phrym, calm down! How could you think I would ever leave you anywhere for good?”

She placed her palm against his nose and pressed her forehead against his. He rumbled in pleasure and she smiled. When she finally led him out, fully tacked, she found Senton standing next to his own horse, his eyes wide once again.

“That’s a semequin,” he said rather quietly.

Jahrra shrugged as she scratched Phrym’s neck.

Senton swallowed. “Who are you? You associate with famous, powerful dragons, you are skilled in all the arts of battle and you own a semequin?”

Jahrra shrugged again. “I guess I’m just lucky.”

Or the human promised by Ethöes, thus making it necessary that I should have all these attributes. Oh yeah, any minute now, he’s going to realize who I am, she thought with some fear. Would he bow down and cry out praises, right there in the stables? Jahrra tensed and waited for the inevitable, but Senton only shook his head and climbed into the saddle.

“Lucky indeed,” he muttered as they urged their horses out into the main fray of the city.

Perhaps he’s a little more obtuse than I first thought . . . she mused.

Some adept maneuvering and twenty minutes later, they were dismounting and tying their horses to the thick pole fence that followed the boundaries of the practice field. Jahrra looked around in delight, glad to see several rings for sword fighting, a run for speed exercises and footwork, and several targets set off in the distance for archery. The open space was sparsely occupied by a dozen or so swordsman and archers taking aim at a distant target or clashing their weapons together in one of the rings.

“What shall we do first?” Senton asked.

It was then that Jahrra realized she didn’t have any weapons with her.

“Oh, I don’t know. I don’t think we’ll be able to practice much today. My gear is back at home.”

“I think we’ll manage,” he answered, his gray eyes sparkling as he indicated a large barrel standing next to a tree. It was full of wooden swords and bows. A sign on the barrel read: Practice Equipment; please return when finished. Jahrra’s face split in a wide grin. She jumped the fence and ran over, choosing one of the swords that wasn’t too splintered or damaged from overuse. She chose a similar one for Senton and the two of them went through a warm up routine before Jahrra made him square off with her on a patch of empty grass.

The practice was fun at first with Jahrra laughing at her new friend’s attempts at getting past her guard. After half an hour they were both breathing hard and Senton, she was sure, was sporting a few bruises, though he refused to admit they bothered him.

They stopped to rest, both pressing their hands to their knees and letting their swords drop to the ground. After a while Senton looked up. His look of exhausted joy disappeared only to be replaced with a frown.

“Hey, isn’t that the girl from our class? The one who was being so bold?”

Jahrra stood up and glanced to where Senton was looking. Standing against the fence, her elbows supporting her, was the dark haired girl who had found it offensive for their professor to be late. What was she doing here? Had she followed them?

She simply stood there perfectly at ease, watching them the way one might watch a river rush by. Finally after several seconds she jumped the fence with extreme ease and walked over. Jahrra froze and she felt Senton do the same beside her.

Once she was five feet away the girl stopped, rocked her weight onto one leg and crossed her arms.

“Not bad with a sword,” she said to Jahrra, ignoring Senton. “Do you really know what you are doing or are you just playing warrior?”

Jahrra couldn’t tell if the girl was being purposely uncouth or if her question was simply honest curiosity. After a moment of turning it over in her head, Jahrra gritted her teeth. Could this be Ellysian all over again? If it was, Jahrra wouldn’t tolerate it this time around. Instead, she would fight back.

Donning a look of cool composure, Jahrra answered, “Would you like to see for yourself?”

Taking Senton’s sword onto her toe, she flipped it up with her foot and grasped the wooden blade, handing it out for the girl to take. The grin that crossed her face was pure malicious delight, or so Jahrra thought. Senton mumbled something incoherent and stepped aside, not at all wanting to get caught between two young women intent on outdoing one another.

The girl lunged first and Jahrra quickly slipped into the years of training she had received from the elves. She seemed to have the upper hand at first, but the other girl soon began showing her true colors. She was good. More than good. She was a match for Jahrra, both in speed and technique. The two sparred for several minutes, Jahrra ducking her opponent’s swings or parrying a strike in her direction. Both girls managed to make contact with the other’s skin, and Jahrra cursed inwardly at the discomfort. She was going to be black and blue tomorrow. Despite her weariness and pain, she wasn’t about to give up.

The fight went on a few minutes more but finally the other girl raised her arm calling, “Truce! You do know what you’re doing!”

Jahrra almost fell over in surprise when the girl smiled at her, reaching out her hand in introduction. “I’m Torrell, and you are?”

“J-Jahrra,” she breathed.

The girl called Torrell looked over at Senton, who had gone to tend to the horses.

“He’s not much of a fighter,” she said, tilting her head in his direction.

“He asked me to teach him,” Jahrra answered, shrugging.

Torrell nodded then looked Jahrra up and down.

“What is it?” Jahrra asked, suddenly feeling strangely exposed.

“Nothing, just a rumor I heard,” Torrell sniffed, stabbing the wooden tip of her sword into the ground. She gathered up her curly hair and wrapped a string of leather around it.

Jahrra froze. “Rumor?” she asked.

“Yeah, something about the dragon Raejaaxorix finally returning to Lidien to stay for more than a fortnight.”

Jahrra’s heart skipped a beat. Senton may be a bit oblivious to the obvious but this girl surely wasn’t.

“Oh?” she said, trying to sound as casual as possible.

“Yup, my mother overheard an acquaintance of hers telling her employer about it. Said he was back and this time he brought with him a young woman who is supposedly the human the Oracle’s promised.”

Jahrra felt her hand start to shake. No, don’t panic. It’s not the end of the world; they’re all going to find out eventually.

Torrell continued on as if she hadn’t noticed Jahrra’s change in demeanor. “She’s supposed to have blond hair and blue eyes, my mother’s friend said. She’d seen the girl herself you know, riding a marble gray semequin with the dragon Jaax.”

Jahrra closed her eyes and swallowed. It was pointless to keep up this façade.

She took a deep breath and said, “Look, what is this all about? What do you really want? An autograph, the chance to go home and tell your mother who you saw today?”

To Jahrra’s great surprise, Torrell snorted. “Well, don’t we have a rather high opinion of ourselves? So you are her then. Shorter than I imagined though . . . but you are good with a sword. I figured if you are destined to save the world, you’re probably really good at fighting. I needed someone with a decent amount of skill to practice with, so, you’re it.”

Torrell had her chin in hand, her dark brown eyes narrowed as she looked Jahrra over. She had an inch or two on her, but she was far more slender and her eyes slanted just enough to remind Jahrra of Gieaun and Scede. Unlike her two best friends, however, this girl was all fierceness and sharp wit. Despite her seemingly insulting way of going about things, Jahrra liked her. She went straight to the point and seemed to avoid unnecessary nonsense.

“I’m sorry,” Jahrra said, feeling slightly embarrassed by her assumptions. “That’s just how most people have responded to me so far. If you can believe it, I just found out who I was a few months ago.”

Torrell arched an eyebrow. “How is that possible?”

Jahrra laughed. “I was told I was a Nesnan while growing up. Jaax only told me the truth recently. So,” she continued in order to keep the conversation off herself, “What is the general opinion of Jaax, in Lidien that is?”

Torrell grinned. “He’s well liked by most. Severely stern and unyielding, I’ve heard, but no one dares disrespect him. What’s he like in private?”

Jahrra laughed out loud. “The same, I’m afraid,” she said.

Senton, having worked up the gumption to rejoin them, walked up. “What’s so funny?”

“Your swordplay,” Torrell said with a sniff.

Senton blinked at Jahrra and she merely shrugged, grinning hugely.

“Did you know that your friend here is the human the Oracles promised us?”

The question caught both Jahrra and Senton off guard. The young man looked at Jahrra with wide eyes, then his eyes grew larger and he parted his lips in a silent gasp.

“Are you?” he asked in a whisper.

Jahrra crossed her arms. Torrell’s blunt acknowledgment of the truth just a minute ago had chased away all of her jitters. “Afraid so,” she said. “Are you going to hold it against me?”

Senton shook his head, the shock apparently still keeping him from speech.

Taking advantage of the sudden silence, Jahrra introduced her two new friends to each other, “Torrell, this is Senton, Senton, this is Torrell.”

The two shook hands and after that they all fell into a friendly and relaxed chatter. Jahrra learned that Torrell and her family lived in the city and that Torrell’s uncle taught the style of fighting she had used against Jahrra. She even promised to tolerate Senton if he truly wished to learn. Before long the sun was setting over the bay and Jahrra had to say farewell.

“I’ll see you in Wilderness class in two days. Should we set up a schedule for practice after classes then?” Jahrra called from Phrym’s back.

Torrell, climbing atop her own black and white mare, said she would bring some more weapons to practice with and Senton told her he would figure out when his father would need his help in his shop.

Waving one last time, Jahrra clicked Phrym forward, pressing him into a quick pace as she headed northwest towards the stone house on the hill. As she traversed the busy streets of Lidien, she thought of how her day had gone. Of all the things that happened that day, she never dreamed she would have come out of it with two new friends, both of them seeming so dear to her in such a short amount of time.

-Chapter Nine-

The Odd Behavior of Elves

For the next couple of weeks, Jahrra gradually settled into the routine of attending her classes during the day and meeting with Senton and Torrell in the afternoons. Torrell was far better than she had first noticed and the two of them had to pause every now and again in the midst of some battle, for they often forgot that Senton was still learning.

As they spent more and more time together, Jahrra began to learn a great deal about her two new friends. Senton was of Nesnan and Resai descent and he and his family lived on the west end of the city. His father managed a shop near the water front and he and his brothers and sister lived above it.

“It isn’t in the worst section of the port but it isn’t in the best either,” he’d said on their way out of history class one morning. “But the view is spectacular and you can get the best fried fish just around the corner.”

He smiled and Jahrra couldn’t help being cheered a bit. He did have a rather charming smile.

Torrell, on the other hand, was quite the opposite of Senton. Her parents were Resai and her family had lived in Lidien for several generations. Her uncle taught defense and swordplay and her mother owned a restaurant. Torrell never had any fear of speaking her mind, often bringing forth questions and opinions Jahrra was sure were shared by others. It was just that Torrell wasn’t afraid to be the one to voice them. Jahrra could see how people would be easily intimidated or offended but luckily her new friend had revealed her true nature that first day of school. She was as blunt as a battle axe but her honesty was never offered out of meanness. Jahrra had made other acquaintances as well, all fellow classmates ranging in age from a year or two younger than her to several years older. Everyone in Lidien seemed to be quite friendly once they became comfortable with each other.

Jahrra enjoyed her new life in the City of Light and she especially enjoyed her lessons at the University. The wildlife course and the Ethöen mythology classes were easily her favorite. She couldn’t say why, but she got the feeling it was because they reminded her of home, of Hroombra.

Despite Jahrra’s hope for keeping her identity secret, it didn’t take long for her fellow classmates to devise who she was. By the end of the first week of school she started to notice people giving her a wider berth as she passed by; often talking quietly to a friend as they did so. At first she feared that her hair had fallen out or that she had sat in a pool of paint or something along those lines. It was only until Torrell sniffed and tugged her along one afternoon on their way to the practice fields that she was informed of the truth.

“Just getting a good look at the human,” her friend had said in her usual dry, no-nonsense way.

So, the people of Lidien were finally taking full note of her. Jahrra gritted her teeth. Maybe she could dye her hair or wear a disguise. As unobtrusive as it was, she hated this attention, but there was nothing for it. She would just have to bear it and be grateful she had found Torrell and Senton. At least they didn’t treat her any differently because of what she was.

Luckily, Jahrra had school to occupy her thoughts most of the time. Her numerous classes also meant seemingly endless studying, and oftentimes she would meet up with classmates in the University library.

The first time she visited the library Jahrra was nearly struck dumb. The building was located centrally on the campus and boasted great, towering walls with columns and a beautiful granite hall. The ceiling, at least fifty feet high, was decorated in ornate carvings and beautiful paintings depicting dreamlike landscapes. Several pale, stained glass windows, perched just above the tops of the bookshelves, let in a good deal of light and a giant glass oculus in the center of the roof pulled the sunlight from the sky and poured it into the massive room.

At first Jahrra could only be impressed with the beauty of this huge space, for the walls were lined with bookshelves running from ceiling to floor all the way around the room, and she was soon under the impression that a copy of every book existing in Ethöes could be found in this very library. It wasn’t until later, when someone told her about the several rooms beneath their feet, that she felt even more overwhelmed. How many books does this place hold? she wondered with awe. The library soon became her favorite place to study with her classmates and in a very short amount of time she developed a habit of spending at least two nights a week there reading or going over notes.

Besides settling into her classes, getting to know new people and discovering an endless supply of information in the library, Jahrra had her home life to occupy her as well. Her guardian’s residence was by far the nicest place she had ever lived. As she began to learn her way around Lidien she realized that the house was ideally set centrally, though among the tallest hills on the easternmost side of the city. She absolutely loved her room, with the great bed and familiar tapestries, and especially the terrace on the other side of the hallway.

One particularly warm weekend she decided to take her schoolwork out onto the balcony to work in the welcoming sunlight. Neira showed her which window opened out onto the stone deck without causing the rusty hinges to squeak, so Jahrra had gathered her scrolls, inkwell and quill and clambered out. The rooftop terrace looked out over the circular drive below and gave a wonderful view of the forest to the east and a sliver of the bay to the northwest. Jahrra sighed in delight and made her way over to a stone bench and table located on the more northern end of the patio. She turned her head and surveyed her surroundings, her eyes stopping when they reached the outdoor fireplace on the opposite end of the terrace. Maybe Jaax would let her invite her friends over one night and they could have a fire and roast sausages for dinner.

Jahrra took a breath and sat down. She meant to get right to work but she couldn’t help admire the stone garden boxes taking up the last space between her bench and the balustrade across from her. There were two large stone beds, one full of barren, dark soil waiting for someone to plant seeds. She made a mental note to ask Jaax or Neira about where she might get some flower and vegetable seeds, especially since spring was nearly over.

The other stone flowerbed held six young trees. She remembered seeing them the first time Neira pointed the patio out to her but she had never bothered to explore since. Their branches were still spangled in buds but many of the flowers were faded, some even beginning to transform into tiny fruit.

Setting her work aside for the moment, Jahrra stood and reached her fingers out to touch the smooth bark. The bracelet on her left hand tingled and she glanced down only to notice that the rune on one of the beads glowed brightly. The Apple wood bead. Jahrra grinned. She thought these trees might be apples, but she wondered why Jaax had planted them here. Did dragons like apples? Maybe Neira preferred them and had convinced him to plant them. Shrugging, Jahrra plopped back down on the stone bench and submerged herself into her work.

That evening by the fire she asked her guardian about the trees.

“Those are apple trees planted up on the deck, aren’t they?”

The Tanaan dragon looked up from the book he was reading, something large with a dark leather cover. He arched an eyebrow and his mouth worked in a reluctant grin. Jahrra stifled a mental laugh. She suspected that most of Jaax’s moments of good humor were stifled. He couldn’t afford to seem too gleeful with the life he led.

“They are,” he answered. “Do you like them?”

Jahrra blinked then shrugged. “Of course, I love apples, but you make it sound as if you planted them for me.”

That thought was ridiculous. They didn’t look newly planted. In fact, they looked as if they had happily lived in that garden box since they were seedlings. If they had been saplings when they were first planted, they were now at least ten years old. No, Jaax was just asking, in his own way, how Jahrra was settling in. She tried to hide the slight flush on her face by brushing her hair to the side and reaching for her teacup.

The dragon pushed aside his book and gave her a serious look. “I had those trees planted several years ago. Seedlings taken from your foster father’s apple orchard.”

Jahrra felt as if Torrell had just kicked her in the stomach. She choked on the tea she had been sipping and cast Jaax a very surprised look.

“You’re joking,” she managed, her voice very quiet.

Jaax merely shook his head. “I suspected you might one day end up here and I wanted to establish something from Oescienne that might make you feel more at home.”

Jahrra’s head was spinning. She thought of the tapestries up in her room, how they were scenes from home, and now the apple trees . . . She looked back up at Jaax. His gaze seemed wary, as if he expected her to throw her teacup into the fire and bolt towards the door. She took a few breaths. Why was she so surprised? Jaax and Hroombra had known from the beginning what she was; of course they would plan everything out in advance. But for Jaax to take the extra effort to make her feel at home, to feel comforted? To feel safe? She had been so used to his disdain for so long, or what she had translated as disdain, that it was hard to accept this new and improved version of him. Besides, it was an incredibly thoughtful thing to do and she had no idea how to react to his kindness.

The fire crackled and spit sparks as a log fell into the embers below it. Slowly, Jahrra set her teacup down and closed her eyes. When she opened them she was ashamed to feel tears in them.

With a shaky voice she said, “Thank you, Jaax.”

She didn’t dare look at him.

He merely rumbled, “You’re welcome, Jahrra.”

Several minutes passed before she looked up. He was reading his book once again. And just like that, they submersed themselves in the comfortable silence once more.

An hour later Jahrra was done reading her own book for school, a particularly dull tale of dwarves and their discovery of mining. She stood and stretched, wondering what they would be doing in her wildlife class tomorrow. Anthar had told his students they would need long pants and heavy boots. Jahrra hoped they were going to hike one of the several trails that twined up the still-wild hills scattered around the city.

Jahrra called a goodnight to Jaax but before she escaped the common room he called her back.

“Tomorrow after your classes, I’d like you to meet me in the great room of the library.”

Jahrra blinked. “Am I to finally meet all the members of the Coalition?”

Jaax smiled, his sharp teeth glittering in the firelight. They had been in Lidien for more than a month but he still hadn’t taken her to one of his weekly Coalition meetings. Jahrra suspected he might be stalling but she couldn’t say for what purpose. If she was being honest with herself she would admit to being glad of it. She was terrified of meeting all those people who wished to someday rise against the Crimson King with her as their beacon. Would they be disappointed in her?

“No, not the entire Coalition, just a single member,” Jaax finally said.

Would that be it then? Introduced to one affiliate at a time? Jahrra thought that was a great idea.

She nodded her agreement then dashed up the stairs, thinking about her classes tomorrow and who she might be meeting this time.

* * *

The next morning Jahrra and Senton found themselves tolerating their history class with little patience. Once again, the subject was known to Jahrra and it took all her willpower not to get up, feign illness, and leave. Senton, she had learned over the past few weeks, seemed to have a slight aversion to lectures on the whole. Several times during the morning she would glance over at him and catch his eyes drooping as his chin rested on his hand. More often than not Jahrra had to stifle a giggle before elbowing him awake.

After what seemed like ages, the morning’s class was finally over and she and Senton crossed the campus together. The two friends eventually parted ways as Jahrra sought her next class, waving a farewell to Senton as he joined a group of students playing a game on one of the University’s many sprawling lawns. They agreed to meet for lunch outside Carlhoren House just before noon.

Jahrra barely made it through her math class without passing out on top of her desk but only ten minutes or so after escaping the land of numbers and confusing formulas, she was sitting on a small patch of grass beside the creek bridge amidst the small forest near the stone cabin. Senton had been waiting for her and before long the two friends were chatting and throwing bread crust into the water for the fish and crawdads.

Jahrra and Senton finished their lunches and as the time for their wilderness class drew near, they closed the distance between their patch of lawn and the cabin. They were the first at the door but right behind them followed Dathian, his arms, as usual, full of scrolls and small tomes.

The aloof elf piqued Jahrra’s curiosity. For quite some time now she’d been trying to figure out what was so familiar about him. It was only until the week before that she realized what it was. He resembled, to some extent, Yaraa and Viornen. The same pointed ears, the same graceful build. Even the slight, olive tone to his skin was similar to theirs.

One of the many books Dathian was carrying suddenly slipped from his grasp, taking many others with it. Sighing deeply, he put aside his scrolls and bent to gather the mess at his feet. Jahrra and Senton walked over to help and the elf grinned, pushing his glasses back onto his nose and thanking them.

Jahrra glanced at the book she was holding out to him. The Genealogy of the House of Dhonoara it read.

“Dhonoara!” she cried before thinking.

Dathian snatched the book away a little more aggressively than was polite. Jahrra blinked in surprise.

His face had paled and he mumbled in his scholarly voice, “Yes, ‘tis a valley in the east. I have some interest in it.”

“Because that is where you are from,” Jahrra braved, holding out a quill he had missed. She formed it more as a statement than a question.

The look of surprise in his pale eyes told Jahrra she had guessed right. “What makes you think I’m from Dhonoara?”

Jahrra shrugged. “I know a few elves who come from that valley and you have the look of them. One is a bit taller, but they both have the same hair color and complexion as you.”

Dathian furrowed his brow and gave Jahrra a serious look but before he could say anything more, Torrell’s perturbed voice broke the quietness of the glen.

“You will not believe what I saw on my way here!” she proclaimed, sounding quite exasperated indeed.

She stopped short when she spotted Jahrra, Senton and Dathian, all posed for what appeared to be a silent standoff.

“What did you see?” Senton asked, removing himself from the awkward conversation that had passed before his other friend’s arrival.

Torrell went into a tirade about some girls she knew and their seemingly inappropriate behavior regarding a young man from one of her other classes. Senton, bless his soul, listened as if his life depended on it. He was good about listening to Torrell’s and Jahrra’s feminine complaints, though Jahrra had to admit she didn’t think she had as many as Torrell.

Casting a wary glance at Dathian, Jahrra rejoined her friends. The elf would not make eye contact, instead feigning the need to clean his glasses once again. Jahrra wondered why he had blanched when she noticed the book on Dhonoara but soon Torrell’s heated words burned out all other thoughts from her mind. She would have to wonder about Dathian later.

Soon their professor arrived and they all gathered inside the building, where the centaur proceeded to tell them of what he had planned for the afternoon. As Jahrra had suspected, they’d dressed for a hike. Anthar wanted to take them into the hills in search of heartsong sparrows.

“Their young should be hatching out right about now and the song the adult male sings,” he paused, his kind face showing pure bliss. “Nothing else in all of Ethöes matches it.”

As they started their climb a half hour later, Jahrra noticed that she and Torrell were able to keep up with the centaur the best, what with all of their training in recent weeks, and Senton was just behind them. Dathian, Jahrra noticed, was at the back of the group. He walked as if it took him great effort to climb the hill but on closer inspection, it was clear he wasn’t struggling at all. Odd . . .

“There! A male, notice the gold streaks on his back?” Anthar breathed with excitement, his tail swishing to chase away flies. “And if you look very carefully you’ll see a tiny blush of red on his breast, hence the name heartsong sparrow. That and the heartbreaking beauty of their song. Everyone hush! He’s hopping up to the top of the tree; maybe we’ll get lucky and he’ll sing for us.”

And then the bird started to warble and chirp in the most beautiful birdsong Jahrra had ever heard. They studied the birds for about half an hour, jotting down what Anthar said about them and sketching the female as she tended her young. Jahrra glanced up a few times from her work only to catch Dathian looking at her every now and again. He would glance away just as quickly, but not soon enough for Jahrra to miss the worry and annoyance in his gaze. Was he somehow angry that she’d discovered where he was from? And if so, why? She shook her head and focused on her drawing. If he was angry at her that was his problem, not hers. He didn’t even know her for goodness sake.

Before Jahrra was ready for class to be over, Anthar was calling for them to gather together and head back down the forested hillside. The students grumbled of sore muscles along the way but they all seemed glad to have seen and heard the heartsong sparrows. Once back at the cabin Jahrra explained to her friends that she couldn’t practice that day; Jaax wanted her to meet someone at the library.

“We’ll go with you,” Torrell said in her usual way, not waiting to see if Jahrra wanted company.

Senton shrugged and followed after their friend. Jahrra sighed, hiked her pack up onto her shoulder, and began to follow them. She peered back at the cabin and noticed Dathian talking seriously to Anthar. The elf caught Jahrra looking at them and he ceased talking immediately. Anthar glanced over his shoulder, his face looking more staid than usual.

Feeling ridiculously exposed, Jahrra turned quickly around and gritted her teeth. Why on Ethöes had she helped that elf pick up his books in the first place? She had thought all mysteries had been left behind in Oescienne but it appeared that no matter where she went, secrets would always follow.

-Chapter Ten-

A Familiar Dragon and a Formal Introduction

Jahrra and her friends were waiting in the library for a full hour before Jaax finally showed. She hadn’t seen him come in since she’d been facing the back of the building, but she knew his voice anywhere and immediately picked it out from all the others that mingled in polite and cheerful conversation. She couldn’t hear what he was saying at first but his tone wasn’t laced with the usual steel and fire it often held when he spoke in public. It sounded softened somehow, as if someone had removed a great thorn in his side or a loose scale that had been giving him trouble . . .

Jahrra turned away from Senton and Torrell and some of her other classmates and froze. A shiver of recognition along with slight embarrassment and resentment coursed through her. Jaax approached but he wasn’t the only dragon breaking the rays of dusty light pouring through the upper windows of the library’s massive hall. At his side, sauntering in like a well-fed lioness was another Tanaan dragon.

Jahrra knew her immediately even though the light in the library was much better than it had been the first time she’d seen her, outside the Castle Guard Ruin the night after the Great Race of Oescienne. So this was who Jaax wanted her to meet. Too bad she couldn’t tell him they had already met, in a sense. But she had a feeling her guardian would not appreciate that she’d been eavesdropping on him.

The red Tanaan looked much more in her element here. She had the same predatory gracefulness that Jaax had but she made it appear more feminine. Her glance traveled slowly around the room, taking in every detail. Jahrra got a strange sense that she was testing her surroundings with all five of her senses and maybe even a few more.

The friendly students of just a few moments ago backed away nervously as they came to realize the two dragons were heading directly towards them. Even Senton seemed ready to bolt. Torrell, not surprisingly and to Jahrra’s great delight, arched an eyebrow and turned to face the dragons. Jahrra wondered if anything frightened Torrell.

Those classmates they had run into earlier were at least polite about their departure (a far cry from the reactions of the villagers in Oescienne), whispering apologies and promises to talk with her later. Moving away not because they feared the dragons, Jahrra suddenly realized, but because Jaax and his companion exuded something more than fear here. The people of Lidien respected dragons and for some reason their manners seemed to go beyond common courtesy whenever Jaax was present.

Jaax stopped talking directly to his companion as he drew closer but he still nodded or murmured a response if she questioned him. By the time they were within ten yards of Jahrra however, his attention went directly to her. He regained his hard continence, giving Jahrra a look that said: Watch your tongue and your attitude. A silent warning.

Jahrra sucked in a breath and managed to smooth her feathers before they bristled too much. She stood up straight and crossed her arms, returning his look with a similar one, but hers rang more to the tune of: push me and I might not try too hard to be the well-mannered little ward you expect.

“Jahrra,” Jaax’s strong voice finally broke the tension created by their silent face-off, “I would like you to meet an old friend of mine.”

He had paused just before choosing the word ‘friend’ to describe the red Tanaan dragon standing just beside him, and Jahrra detected a tiny hint of displeasure in the female dragon’s composure; something about the narrowing of her eyes.

“This is Shiroxx.”

No titles, no short list of attributes. Unlike the few other dignitaries and friends Jaax had paraded Jahrra in front of. “Shiroxx, this is Jahrraneh Drísíhn, but you may address her as Jahrra.”

Jahrra flinched when Jaax gave Shiroxx her elvin name. Clearly he trusted this dragon. A lot. The red Tanaan smiled liquidly but Jahrra knew that type of smile very well. It was the one Jaax often gave her and the one she had grown to know so well among her classmates back in Oescienne. It was a smile that said: ‘I shall be polite to you on the outside, but in my thoughts I will tear you down and expose every weakness you have and hide it away for safekeeping’.

Jahrra shivered but managed a polite smile herself.

“Little Jahrra, I have heard so much about you,” Shiroxx finally spoke, her voice cool and beautiful. A gentler version of the whiny one she’d used that night in Oescienne when Jahrra had spied on the two great reptiles standing in front of her.

She laughed then, melodious but forced, and turned her angular head towards Jaax. “You did not tell me she was so, ordinary, Raejaax. I would have thought the goddess would have produced a more appealing creature since it was only one she was making. But you do speak so highly of her attributes.”

Jahrra didn’t even try to quail her bristling this time. She hissed in a breath and felt her face flush in anger.

Senton cleared his throat uncomfortably. “Um, we’ll see you tomorrow Jahrra. Come on Torrell.”

She watched them leave, Senton dragging on Torrell’s sleeve. The dark haired girl looked like she wanted to find a sword and stab Shiroxx’s eyes out but she kept casting a cautious glance in Jaax’s direction, as if expecting him to attack should she act on that temptation. Although she regretted their departure, Jahrra figured it was probably for the best.

She shot Jaax an angry glare but he hardened his own gaze and shook his head once, ever so slightly. Let her have her petty insults Jahrra, it isn’t worth getting into a confrontation over, the look in his eyes told her. But there was something fierce lingering beneath them, as if the silver was trying to burn through the green.

Jahrra didn’t care. She was through with taking insults, especially ones that were cast and then drawn back like the crack of a whip, only to be smoothed over with a shallow compliment. Time to let this dragon know she wasn’t a pushover and to show her guardian she had a voice and a mind of her own.

Jahrra loosened her tightly wound body, letting her crossed arms sag a little and her weight to rest on one leg. She looked at Jaax again and smiled as sweetly as she could in her current mood. His eyes turned to solid granite and he suddenly seemed to take up the entire hall.

Jahrra ignored him and drew a breath to speak. “Well that’s interesting,” she mused, “Jaax hasn’t said a word about you.”

Shiroxx’s mouth twitched, transforming her polite grin into a tight curve of sharp teeth. Jahrra smirked, quite pleased with herself. Two can play at this game, she thought at the female dragon.

Beneath all of her instinctual need to defend herself, Jahrra wondered what this particular Tanaan’s problem was. This was the first time she had ever met Jahrra but what puzzled her was that she had always seemed to dislike her. It was obvious when she’d overheard Jaax’s conversation with Shiroxx those many nights ago that the dragoness had an aversion to her. Jahrra understood Eydeth’s and Ellysian’s indignation back at home; they’d seen her as an abomination, someone not worthy to be in their presence. But why would the dragon Shiroxx dislike her so much?

If everything worked out, if she somehow managed to defeat the Crimson King and return order to the world of Ethöes, shouldn’t she be welcomed with open arms, not icy stares and bared teeth? They were on the same side in a war that could very well mean the destruction of their world and she wanted to treat Jahrra like some young schoolmate who was trying to steal her glory? Please! There were more important and more dangerous things to worry about than a popularity contest. Jahrra’s mouth twitched at the thought. Me, at the center of a popularity contest with a dragon. How absurd!

Jahrra shook off her slight irritation and decided to look at her guardian then. He’d had a good minute or so to let her snappish remark to his friend sink in so his glower shouldn’t be so damaging . . . Yet he still glared at her, the silver in his eyes even brighter now. Jahrra merely arched an eyebrow and, unsmiling, lifted her chin. What did you expect? She projected mentally at him. I’m not good at taking insults lying down, remember?

“Now, don’t we have a bold mouth on us,” Shiroxx finally said, her tone laced in ice. Gone was the fake friendliness and in its place was the predator within.

Jahrra didn’t even flinch. She’d had good practice staring down dragons, for nobody was more formidable than Jaax.

Jaax choked in the back of his throat and although Jahrra was really tempted to reply to Shiroxx (something along the lines of ‘Oh yes, and the goddess gave it to me for a reason, one being to defend myself against overbearing, snooty reptiles’), she opted to remain silent. She would only receive a tongue lashing from Jaax later and she really didn’t want the headache.

“I think we’ve had enough, acquainting, for one day,” Jaax broke in. “Perhaps we can meet again later this week. Jahrra has not yet been to the upper gardens overlooking the bay and that would be a good place for a walk, and,” he shot another piercing glare down at Jahrra, “civilized conversation.”

Jahrra wanted to gape in outrage at him but she caught herself just in time. She was no longer a child. It was time to do away with childish reactions. Nevertheless, she stared straight ahead, aiming all of her ire directly at him. Shiroxx was the one practicing ‘uncivilized conversation’, not her.

Shiroxx released a bored sigh. “That’s very well. I have another engagement I must be off to anyways. Would you be so kind as to escort me to the plaza my dear Raejaaxorix?”

Jahrra felt like throwing a chair at the red dragon but quickly reminded herself: no more childish reactions.

Jaax complied and nodded, turning towards the great columns outlining the building’s entrance, then waited for Shiroxx to join his side.

Before moving to leave, Shiroxx turned her gaze towards Jahrra once again and plastered that sickly sweet smile on her face. “It was nice to meet you, Jahrra. I shall look forward to our walk. I hope our conversation will be more pleasant on our second meeting.”

The remark was polite enough but once again that chord of distaste reverberated ever so softly beneath the sincerity.

Jahrra nodded in return. “Until next time, Shiroxx.”

The female dragon turned to leave, smiling radiantly at a rather grumpy looking Jaax. Jahrra watched them the entire time as they headed towards the busy plaza outside the great library. What was it that made Shiroxx so cold towards her? Even though she couldn’t see their faces she noticed both reptiles’ every movement. Jaax seemed his normal, intense self, listening politely as the female beside him prattled on once again. Jahrra wondered what she was saying, for Jaax nodded and even laughed every now and again but didn’t seem otherwise engaged in the conversation.

They reached the columns and Jaax bid his companion a final farewell. She smiled again, her eyes fixed on him as he turned to walk back towards his ward. He had a look of slight annoyance on his face, annoyance aimed at the young human woman standing in the middle of the large library hall. But Jahrra wasn’t focused on Jaax. She was still looking at Shiroxx’s face. But she didn’t have to worry if the red Tanaan dragon noticed her scrutiny; her reptilian gaze was locked entirely on Jaax. She was at the entrance, the sunshine beckoning and a prior engagement to get to, but she was focused on Jaax.

Even from this distance Jahrra could just make out the expression on her face, the look in her brown eyes. Regret, sorrow, longing, desire . . . Jahrra gasped inwardly. Desire? Was Shiroxx in love with Jaax? She had expressed similar feelings that night outside the Castle Guard Ruin but Jahrra had been a little too naive then to understand the subtle undertones of such a private conversation. But now, now that she really thought about it and dug down to the emotional level, she could almost see it. It was an astonishing, and rather disturbing, thought. A dragon, in love with another dragon? What an odd concept.

Jahrra mentally kicked herself. She knew better than to think that way. She actually felt a little ashamed. After all, she had been raised by a dragon and she had been around them long enough to know that they had emotions just like she did, just like every being she had ever met. Why couldn’t they feel love as well?

Hroombra had loved her, loved her very much. But Shiroxx and, and Jaax? Mind boggling. Perhaps it was the clash of such a pure emotion with the negative emotions Shiroxx seemed to let rule her life that was throwing Jahrra off. That and her own mostly negative experience with her guardian. Although she had grown to trust him and rely on him, he wasn’t all that loveable.

And then another more shocking thought occurred to her. All of the derision, the cold eyes and forced smiles, the insults dipped in the honey of kind words at the end of a sentence . . . Jahrra knew what it was, how could she have missed it? Perhaps because it was such a ludicrous idea in the first place. Shiroxx’s behavior, her words, her anger towards Jahrra; all one emotion with many different facets, like a deep green emerald cut to reflect the most light. It had a name, a cruel, selfish and bitter name: jealousy.

Shiroxx was jealous of her. Jahrra nearly dropped to the floor and stopped breathing. Why on earth would such a creature, powerful, intelligent, beautiful even, be jealous of her? Jahrra was a weak human and one of plain appearance according to the female dragon, so why should she have such a strong negative feeling towards her? Was it because she was the supposed savior of the world? The one getting all the attention of those around her?

Jahrra had let her gaze falter as she puzzled this all out in her mind but now she decided to look back at where Shiroxx had been standing. She was still there, still staring after Jaax as he slowly made his way back through the crowd. Goddess above, Jahrra thought with disturbed wonder, she’s jealous because of the attention Jaax gives me?!

Her laugh was one of utter disbelief, not one of mirth. It couldn’t be! Did Shiroxx realize what kind of attention Jaax gave his ward? Oh, if she could ever get the female dragon alone and work up the gumption to discuss this with her, she would assure Shiroxx that Jaax disliked spending time with Jahrra as much as she disliked spending time with him. True, he had been a little less gruff of late, but the only reason he kept Jahrra so close was to protect her from the Crimson King and his minions. It was all so absurd but then again, jealousy had a bad habit of twisting even the most obvious of truths.

Jaax stopped his advance when he heard Jahrra’s laugh. He was only fifteen feet away now and he gave her a dark look.

“Is something funny, Jahrra?” his words were clipped. He was still irritated. Big surprise.

Jahrra sobered up right away. “No,” she said.

Jaax narrowed his eyes and looked back at Shiroxx. Gratefully, she had finally gone to meet whoever it was she was to meet. Jaax turned his head back around and nailed Jahrra with another one of his domineering stares. “Next time I bring Shiroxx to meet with you, you’ll leave your impudence at home.”

Jahrra simply sniffed. “Forgive me. My impudence only comes out to play when invited by its friend, malice.”

“Don’t get smart with me!” he hissed, smoke escaping between his teeth. “Those who I introduce to you aren’t just people gathered off the streets. Everyone plays a part in this Jahrra, and everyone is to be treated with respect.”

“Perhaps you should be having this conversation with your friend,” Jahrra retorted, her arms no longer crossed but instead thrust down by her sides in anger.

How had this happened? How had they reverted back to the attitudes they’d embodied before leaving Oescienne? True, Jaax still held onto his old habits but Jahrra had thought they had come to understand each other better. She pushed past him and started heading towards the entrance herself. She wanted to get back to their shared dwelling and make some tea before starting on her homework. Then maybe lock herself in her room for a few hours where he couldn’t get to her.

Jaax stopped her with his tail. Jahrra froze. He rarely stopped her using force.

He spoke to her back. “Jahrra,” he began, his voice hard and angry before he sighed heavily. “I understand Shiroxx isn’t the most pleasant of company and I know she insulted you. I am sorry for that, it was out of place and sorely immature of her.”

Jahrra was frozen in slight disbelief. Was Jaax truly apologizing for his rude companion?

“But she is a key participant in this game, and has been an advocate for our cause for a very long time. I’ll speak to her later about how she should be treating the most important player we have but from now on I want you to practice a little patience and remember that you are the one everyone will be looking up to.”

Jahrra blanched. Her part in all of this was a big responsibility and she detested it when Jaax reminded her of it. But he was right, as much as she hated to admit it.

She sighed, her back still facing the dragon. “Very well. I’ll try harder next time. May I go? I have a lot of homework and an exam to study for.”

Jaax moved his tail so that Jahrra could continue her escape. She didn’t once turn around as she walked briskly through the crowd, everyone stepping aside to allow her passage. That was another thing that bothered her. She was a normal student, just like them. But perhaps they moved out of her way because of the confrontation she had just had with the leader of the Coalition. She guessed not many people stood up to the dragon Raejaaxorix.

Jaax watched Jahrra as she passed between the columns and stepped into the bright daylight. He didn’t break his gaze until she disappeared into the distance, mingling with the crowd as she headed home for the day.

* * *

The next morning Jahrra woke to find Jaax in the common room reclining by the empty fireplace. Summer was in full swing now, so a fire was no longer necessary. She sighed as she took the last few steps from the staircase in the hall before stepping through the entry into the great common room. Neira met her halfway, handing her a bowl of thick oatmeal with wild berry preserves. The maid grinned and Jahrra couldn’t help returning her smile.

“Make no plans for the weekend,” Jaax said plainly as he flipped through one of the city’s periodical papers.

Jahrra blinked as the steam from her breakfast curled into the air. “Pardon?” she said.

Jaax continued to scan the paper, not paying her any heed. “There is a Coalition meeting in the afternoon on the last day of the school week. I want you to attend and I fear it will be a long one.”

He glanced up and gave her a contemplative look. “I wouldn’t want you to miss anything else you might have planned because of this.”

Jahrra sighed and walked over to her table, setting the bowl of oatmeal down a little harder than usual. So, it was back to the old Jaax then? Ordering her around without so much as asking? She briefly recalled her meeting with Shiroxx yesterday and wondered if it was the female dragon that had turned Jaax’s mood like this. Jahrra gritted her teeth and set to work on her oatmeal. He may be reverting back to his barbaric ways but she wasn’t going to give him the satisfaction of a fight this time.

Jaax watched her a bit longer as she ignored him but after a while he got back to reading his paper.

The remainder of the school week dragged on and Jahrra couldn’t even find any joy in her wilderness class. Dathian still avoided her (it wasn’t as if they had been great friends before she questioned him about Dhonoara Canyon, but he hadn’t gone out of his way to keep away from her either). It was as if he feared that if she moved too close she would decipher some dark secret he was hiding.

Jahrra wrinkled her brow and tried to forget about it but it was too unsettling. By the end of class she had somehow convinced herself that he, like many others in Lidien, had gotten wind of who she was and for some reason or another he was disturbed by it. She had even gone as far as to assume he had sympathies with the Crimson King and was at this very moment plotting her demise.

As the day of the Coalition meeting drew nearer Jahrra found herself growing more and more agitated. She’d been overly belligerent on the practice fields in the afternoons and even had Torrell begging for rest. Thankfully, the practice fields had become one of Jahrra’s favorite places to visit when she needed to release some of her pent up irritation.

During the past few weeks, as summer’s warm weather lured more people into enjoying the outdoors, Jahrra had begun to notice several people making a habit of stopping by to watch her and her friends practice and spar. At first it was just regular citizens and University students on their way home from work or school. Soon, athletes proficient in the skills of fighting started offering up challenges to the girls and sometimes to Senton, who had improved drastically since he first started working out with them. After a while, passersby began placing small bets on who would win and shortly after that, Jahrra herself found an easy way to make a little extra spending money. Her guardian gave her an allowance, of course, but what could it hurt to make a little more when people were willing to pay? More often than not she would win a match, for the young men were always certain they could defeat a girl. Jahrra had accumulated a small fortune over the past month and had horded it away like a dragon. But if Jaax ever found out . . .

Jahrra shook away her wandering thoughts as she parried an attack from Senton. The fighting circle was no place to let her mind imagine what Jaax would do to her if he ever found out about her taking wagers for extra money. She had to concentrate on her opponent or she might end up with several stitches, if not worse.

No one was placing bets this afternoon so she, Senton and Torrell could simply enjoy a nice, laid back workout. Jaax had told her that morning that the Coalition meeting wasn’t until later in the evening. She had time for a few hours practice and a bath at home before she had to head into the city again.

Wood cracked against wood as Jahrra lunged for her friend. He blocked her attack then spun and came at her from a different angle. Jahrra easily dispatched him and grinned at the look on his face.

“Where did you learn that move?” he breathed as he clutched his side and leaned against his practice sword.

“Secret,” Jahrra replied, casting her own weapon aside.

She shaded her eyes and glanced up at the great clock tower that stood on a nearby hill.

“Time to go?” Torrell asked, uncrossing her arms and pushing away from the fence where she’d watched their fight.

Jahrra nodded, the nervousness welling up inside of her once again.

Torrell’s dark face split into a grin. “You’ll be fine.”

Sighing, Jahrra left her two friends and walked over to Phrym. She would take him straight home today, for she planned on riding him back into town in only a few hours’ time. As she rode through the city streets in the direction of home, Jahrra thought about what Jaax had told her.

“Every member who is currently in Lidien will be present,” he’d said. “Although our congregation consists of people ranging from peasants to the sons and daughters of kings, you’ll treat them all equally.”

Jahrra had swallowed. Royalty? True royalty would be there and Jaax expected her to treat them as equals?

Neira greeted Jahrra at the door with a look of exasperation on her face.

“What’s the matter?” Jahrra asked.

“Oh, nothing much,” she puffed, “only that his lordship insists on me having supper prepared while helping you get ready for the meeting tonight.”

Jahrra laughed. “I’m perfectly capable of drawing my own bath and dressing myself Neira.”

She froze. “But Master Jaax . . .”

Jahrra brushed her comment aside. “Forget what his lordship said and concentrate on dinner. If I somehow manage to put my clothes on backwards you can fix me later.”

Neira puffed out her cheeks but eventually agreed. As she scurried back into the kitchen Jahrra climbed the stairs and stepped into the small, tiled room she and Neira used for bathing. The great copper tub was already partly filled with cold water and Jahrra noticed a large kettle hanging over the fire. It took quite a while to get the water temperature just right, and even then she opted for lukewarm instead of piping hot.

By the time she was done with her bath the sun was down and twilight was creeping in. Jahrra wrapped herself in a great white drying cloth and stepped into the hall. The blue gray light of dusk was pouring through the diamond pane windows on her left but thankfully Neira had taken the time to light the lamps that hung on the walls.

Shivering, Jahrra tiptoed down to her own room, bolting the door shut behind her. She wondered about what she should be expected to wear but apparently that decision had already been made for her. Spread out atop her bed was one of the fine dresses that had been ordered from the seamstress that first week in Lidien. Jahrra cringed at the memory of spending more time than she wished picking out fabrics and returning for fittings. Gratefully, she was allowed several pairs of pants and tunics but the seamstress was also commissioned to make three dresses.

Jahrra had paled at the time. She never liked the garments and as a child she would have rejected the idea on the basis that they were too feminine a thing to wear when what all she wanted to do was traipse around the countryside. Now, however, her worry was how to behave in a dress. She feared that she would trip over the hem or lose her ability to breathe if the bodice was too tight.

Releasing a deep breath, Jahrra picked up the gown in front of her. She wasn’t too proud to admit that the garment was beautiful. A deep red with some gold needlework, the cut elegant but not so much so that it would be too fancy for an important meeting. Jahrra grinned in spite of herself. She had done a good job with picking the colors and pattern of this particular dress. A half hour later she was nearly ready. Neira came up then to check on her and Jahrra breathed a sigh of relief.

“I have no idea how to fasten the back by myself.”

Neira grinned. “That is why Raejaax wanted me to help you.”

Jahrra screwed her mouth up in a frown but sat patiently as Neira fastened the row of tiny hooks running up her back. When she was done she pulled Jahrra in front of the mirror.

“Look at you! A far cry from your usual, ragged self.”

True, Jahrra looked nothing like her usual self, but it was mostly just the dress doing the work.

“Well, dinner awaits and then Master Jaax will be here to pick you up.”

“He’s not here already?” Jahrra asked, picking up her skirts to keep from tripping down the stairs.

Neira shook her head. “He was busy all day and is only returning home to collect you.”

“Surely I could find my own way if he left the directions,” Jahrra replied with a grumble.

“Oh no, arriving alone to your first introduction to the Coalition?” the maid clucked her tongue. “Borderline scandalous.”

Jahrra grinned then. She had to admit; trying to find the meeting and then entering by herself seemed very daunting indeed. Perhaps it wouldn’t be so bad after all to have Jaax there to introduce her. Introduce her to diplomats and members of the royal families of Ethöes. Oh yes, she was going to need all the help she could get.

-Chapter Eleven-

A Grand Event and a Prince in Disguise

By the time Jahrra and Neira finished a quick dinner in the kitchen Jaax had arrived. He waited in the main room, his back to the kitchen door as he watched the flames of the lanterns cast shadows against the wall. He turned when he heard the two women enter, his eyebrows arching when he spotted Jahrra.

“That’s a good color on you,” he said.

Jahrra looked away, feeling suddenly self-conscious. Neira merely grinned and voiced her agreement. Eventually, Jahrra got over her discomfort and glanced at her guardian. If she didn’t know any better she would have said someone had polished his scales. He wore a great garland of gold and jewels around his neck, the pendant hanging below his throat a great blood rose crafted of rubies, emeralds, topaz and garnets. Jahrra gaped. It was something she would imagine seeing on a king or an emperor, not her brooding guardian.

Jaax seemed to notice her surprise. “It’s required of the head of the Coalition to wear the Blood Rose pendant,” he said, sounding a bit uncomfortable himself.

Jahrra lifted her gaze and caught sight of the simple silver filigree that was expertly sitting atop his head, intertwining elegantly with his horns.

“That too is something we high ranking Coalition members are expected to wear,” he said with a weary sigh.

Jahrra got the impression it goaded him to wear such finery and she had to stifle a giggle at his expense. In a way it made her feel better about wearing the dress.

“Well, I think you both look rather fine,” Neira trilled, trying to smooth over the awkward moment.

“Thank you Neira,” Jahrra said, smiling.

“Since we are both ready I suggest we get moving. The meeting starts shortly and I fear we will be late as it is.”

Jahrra nodded and followed her guardian out the door. Phrym was waiting for her, secured to the oak where she had left him. He eyed her quizzically as she stepped up, as if he wondered who this person in the strange garment was.

Once in the saddle, Jahrra spent a few moments arranging her skirts so that they wouldn’t be wrinkled when they arrived. The drive was dark but once they made their way into the more populated part of the city the street lamps offered a soft glow that took away the gloominess. Several citizens of Lidien still wandered about, visiting taverns and restaurants or the odd student going to or coming from the library for some studying after dark.

Jahrra heaved a great sigh and glanced over at Jaax. “So, where exactly are we going?”

“To the Essýel Auditorium in the academy building where you have your history class.”

Jahrra blinked, recalling that first day of class when she had been awed by the auditorium’s size. She remembered Anthar, an unknown centaur to her at the time, telling her that the great room was used by groups and organizations seeking peace and change. It had never occurred to her that it was the very place where the Coalition would meet. Of course it made sense now.

As they drew closer to the University campus, Jaax told Jahrra about some of the more prominent members she would be meeting tonight. Jahrra tried her best to remember the titles her guardian listed but after a while she gave up, hoping she would do a better job when officially introduced. Among the members were the nobility he promised earlier: dukes and lords, princes, princesses, cousins of kings and queens or war heroes from long ago.

Jahrra, if at all possible, felt even more overwhelmed. How was she to know how to behave in front of these people? The most distinguished people she had ever met were Eydeth and Ellysian, and if the Coalition members were anything like those two she would like nothing better than to turn Phrym around and flee in the opposite direction.

“You’ll behave as you normally do, minus your occasional flippancy and that tendency to speak whatever snide response pops into your head,” Jaax said dryly as they entered the great plaza of Lidien’s university.

Jahrra bit her cheek. She did not speak whatever thought popped into her head. At least not that often. Only in the presence of her insufferable guardian and those going out of their way to be rude to her. She dearly hoped that if someone were to say something even remotely degrading this evening she would be too frightened to speak at all.

Ahead of them loomed Emehriel Hall and Jahrra had to swallow back her nervousness. The streetlamps and lanterns hanging throughout the University gave the great building an enchanting glow and Jahrra had to remind herself that magic may very well be at play.

“We’re ten minutes late so most likely everyone is inside waiting for us,” Jaax said.

Jahrra led Phrym to the great oak tree and tethered him to the fence that stood there. There was a line of several other horses, blinking curiously at this new arrival. After she dismounted she took several deep breaths with the hope to calm her racing heart, but it was no use. She was a mess. Jaax waited expectantly at the bottom of the stairs and after a few moments, Jahrra started walking towards him, her red slippers not making a sound against the lawn.

“Relax,” he grumbled as they entered the building and headed straight for the hall.

Jahrra tried but the closer they got the more her heart fluttered. The giant doors were propped open and from the depths of the room she could hear the busy murmur of a hundred or more voices. Jaax cast her one more look before they stepped through the massive doorway and into the bright light of the auditorium.

Jahrra had closed her eyes but when the dead silence she’d expected didn’t come she slowly opened them. No one had noticed them yet. But as they descended the stairs leading to the wide stage below, the chatter began to fizzle out. Everyone would know Jaax, being that he was their leader. They wouldn’t know Jahrra but she was sure her guardian would have told them he was bringing her, so they would know who she was by association. The faces that watched her did not smile nor did they frown. One step at a time she and her guardian descended, the blank stares of a large variety of men and women watching her like a beacon on an endless night.

Jahrra huddled closer to Jaax, risking the chance that he might actually trip over her. Finally they found the stage and she glanced up at those sitting in the ornately carved wooden chairs placed there for their convenience. The men and women sitting in those small thrones were impeccably dressed in the finest clothing and jewelry available. These must be the highest ranking nobles present, Jahrra thought. They all looked elvin to her but most people did when attired so flawlessly.

To keep herself distracted from the silent crowd that fanned up the stadium seats behind her, Jahrra studied the faces of the decorated people. One woman wore a jewel-encrusted gown and an extremely haughty look. One of the men must have been half Jahrra’s height and sported a crown of every gemstone she had ever seen. A dwarf, she thought with amusement.

Casting her eyes down the line of seated people, she tried to decipher their heritage or their titles. When her gaze fell upon the youngest looking of them all she nearly collapsed onto the stage in shock. It was Dathian. The young elf was returning her look of horror and surprise, his face as white as that day she asked him about his book on Dhonoara. He, too, was dressed in finery, his glasses looking painfully out of place.

“Jahrra,” Jaax whispered as he turned to face the crowd, “are you alright?”

Jahrra tore her gaze away from the elf and looked up at the Tanaan dragon. “Fine,” she murmured.

But she wasn’t fine. Dathian was descended from nobility? But he seemed so completely ordinary. A scholar and nothing else, no ambitions but to perhaps someday teach the class that was currently taught by Professor Anthar.

Jahrra shook her head and focused her attention on the crowd. She scanned the faces, noting the dragons immediately. Shiroxx, her scarlet scales standing out like a stain, stood next to two other Tanaan dragons, one nearly black, the other more of a golden bronze. She spotted the centaurs next, a group of them standing on a platform about halfway up the fan of seats. She nearly cried out in surprise when she recognized the buckskin coat and dark hair of Anthar. He was a member of the Coalition? Him and Dathian? Why hadn’t she ever been told . . . ?

“Good evening, members of the Coalition for Ethöes,” Jaax boomed over the heads of the crowd.

As a group they returned his greeting.

“For hundreds of years, we have endured the suppression of the Tyrant, some more than others,” he continued, “and for centuries we have gathered and planned, building up a resistance to the Crimson King’s power. Soon, that planning will come to an end and we will finally find it necessary to act.”

The crowd began murmuring once again, either agreeing with Jaax or turning his words over with their friends.

The dragon continued after a while, speaking about the offenses of the Tyrant king and the Coalition’s struggle to bring change to Ethöes. Jahrra already knew much of this from Hroombra so she didn’t feel guilty sending her attention somewhere else. Once again she began scanning the crowd, looking and listening, trying to get a feel for what these people were like. She spotted one of her teachers and a few moments later, another. Was it a mere coincidence, or . . .

Jahrra felt her stomach lurch and she glanced up at her guardian, his focus entirely on giving his speech. He had sat with her that night she’d perused through the University brochure, looking for classes. She had thought she made all the choices herself, but could Jaax have led her? Now that she thought about it, however, she hadn’t quite picked the classes that had been her first choices. Jaax had urged her with kind words and what seemed at the time, logical reasons, why she should or should not sign up for a particular class. Had he lured her into the classes she was currently enrolled in because of who taught them? All Coalition members? For what purpose; to keep an extra eye on her?

Jahrra no longer felt nervous. No, she felt highly annoyed, angry even. Was she never to have any control over her life?

“And so, I am very pleased to say that, after several hundred years, my search for the human child is at an end,” Jaax was saying as Jahrra returned her attention to the meeting that was currently taking place.

“I am proud to present to you, esteemed members of the Coalition for Ethöes, Jahrraneh Drísíhn.”

Jaax stepped aside for her to move forward where all could see her. Casting him a look of pure indignation, she stomped to the front of the stage, eying the crowd as if they were a clustering of cockroaches. Oh yes, she would play her part tonight for him but when they got back home she would give him a piece of her mind.

Jahrra was met with silence and blank stares once again but then behind her someone cleared her throat.

“May I speak Raejaax?”

It was the woman with the haughty look. She stood and then teetered ever so slightly, as if all her gold and jewels weighed her down.

“Very well Nabene,” Jaax murmured.

The elvin woman smiled and Jahrra watched her warily. There was something about the glint in her eye that reminded her of Shiroxx and Ellysian.

“On behalf of the elvin clans of the north I, Nabene of the Baer Mountains and queen of Rhohwynd, am pleased to extend my respect to the girl Jahrraneh Drísíhn and to acknowledge her valued role in our Coalition.”

The elvin woman, the queen, gave a graceful curtsy then waved her hand expectantly at her fellow nobles. Each and every one of them stood and gave their names, each a prince or duke or lord, all from one of the principalities or small kingdoms of Felldreim or Oescienne. The dwarf, Lord Koblahn, was from Doribas, the land of the famed mines in the Kourhiont Mountain to the east.

Finally, Dathian stood and Jahrra felt herself go rigid. He seemed to have composed his face however; the shock from seeing her gone and currently replaced with calm indifference.

He gave Jahrra a royal bow and said, “I, Prince Dathian of Dhonoara, also extend my gratitude and respect to Jahrraneh Drísíhn. May her part in all this come with as little hardship as possible.”

A prince. Dathian was a prince! And not just any prince, a prince of Dhonoara! Jahrra thought her knees might collapse under her. And she had been so, blatant, in her speaking with him. But why hadn’t he said anything?

Jahrra shook her head and thought to consider it all later when her brain didn’t hurt so much. Jaax motioned her to sit in one of the chairs closest to him and as he delved into the many issues that the Coalition members discussed during any given meeting, Jahrra receded into herself, thinking about this first and memorable meeting with those who would be fighting for the salvation of their world with her.

Finally, all announcements and pressing issues had been discussed and considered. Jaax spoke a few words of closure and then turned his head to the crowd once again.

“Jahrra and I will be available in the lobby to make a more personal introduction, so if you wish to speak with her please do so on the way out.”

Jahrra blinked up at her guardian. They would be here all night! No wonder he had told her not to make any plans for that weekend. She sighed. She should be grateful, really. She wasn’t asked to make any grand speeches or to answer any tough questions, at least not in front of everybody.

Jaax indicated Jahrra to join him and as they made their way back up the steps and out into the lobby, the voices of the crowd rose once again. Jahrra wanted nothing more than to run from the building, leap upon Phrym and ride home as fast as she could. There were at least two hundred people, maybe more, in that assembly hall. Would they all want to talk to her?

“If it makes you feel any better,” Jaax murmured next to her ear as they crested the final few steps, “refreshments will be provided.”

“You purposely neglected to tell me I would have to personally greet every single member of the Coalition,” she hissed back. She hadn’t forgotten about her discovery of his manipulation regarding her classes.

“It won’t be that bad,” Jaax assured her, moving to stand in the center of the large foyer.

Along the walls, Jahrra noted several tables laden with food and beverages. Casting her guardian one more angry look, she quickly walked over to the punch bowl and fetched herself something to drink. Just then, the Coalition members started filing from the wide open doors. Jahrra froze and darted a terrified look at Jaax. The dragon merely watched her, one eyebrow lifted to match the quirk of his mouth. Jahrra cursed silently to herself. As frightened as she was at being rushed by hundreds of people, she was too proud to return to Jaax’s side.

At first, everyone headed for the large Tanaan dragon standing in the middle of the grand hall. Upon finding Jahrra absent from his side, they began looking around in puzzlement. If the object of their search hadn’t been her, Jahrra would have laughed out loud. Eventually, the men and women closest to her spotted her and hurried over, smiles plastered on their faces. It was obvious they were fighting the desire to run at her. Taking a large drink of the punch, Jahrra set it down on the table and steeled herself for the first wave.

“Oh, it is so wonderful to meet you at last!” a middle-aged Nesnan woman cried, holding her hand out to Jahrra.

Reluctantly, Jahrra took her hand and shook it.

“I am Lorria, and I can hardly believe Ethöes has finally sent you to us.”

Jahrra murmured some polite thanks and soon the others were upon her as well. She shook hands with Nesnans, Resai, those whose ancestors had been dwarves and even some of the centaurs.

Anthar came over as well, a great grin on his face.

“I’m glad to finally meet you,” he said.

Jahrra smiled back, “But you already know me.”

“Well, of course, but I must follow protocol and offer you the same greeting as everyone else here.” He waved a great arm around the busy hall and then turned the gesture into an elegant bow.

Jahrra laughed, her nerves and anger at Jaax finally fading away.

“Tell me the truth professor,” Jahrra said, “you knew who I was all along, didn’t you?”

The centaur took a breath, thought about his answer, then said, “I had my suspicions . . .”

Jahrra wasn’t convinced. Yes, many citizens of Lidien had learned of her identity, but it wasn’t as if she had gone about in a fancy carriage declaring throughout the entire city who she was. And she never discussed it while attending class. But she was sure Anthar had known since that first day in this very hall.

She crossed her arms and looked up at him. “So it’s just a coincidence that you, and several of my other professors, happen to be Coalition members?”

“Well,” he began, shifting his weight and stomping the ground with one of his hoofs. “Perhaps Jaax did mention . . .”

“Ugh, I knew it!” she breathed, dropping her hands and reaching for her glass of punch once again. She took another drink and set it down.

“Jahrra, he merely wants to protect you,” Anthar said in defense of the dragon. “And several professors have ties to the Coalition . . .”

“I understand that,” she retorted, cutting him off, “what I don’t understand is why he must do so without telling me.”

The centaur crossed his arms over his chest, his mouth quirking in a small, knowing grin. “And how would you react if he were to tell you beforehand?”

Jahrra opened her mouth to deny she would ever object, but before she could say anything she released a breath and shook her head.

“I guess I would fight him,” she admitted reluctantly. “But that doesn’t make it right, and it still grates at me.”

“Of course it does,” Anthar replied cheerily.

“Ah, there you are Anthar!”

Jahrra turned to see another centaur, no, not a centaur, but a ceniket, making her way through the crowd as she moved towards them. Jahrra couldn’t remember seeing her during the meeting and wondered if she had been there at all. Her coat was snow white, her hair a pale blond and her eyes a clear blue. She trotted up to Anthar and reached for his face. She wasn’t as tall as he was and had to pull his head down in order to give him a quick kiss.

“Tarthan is finally asleep, but Gessa needs to get home. It is nearly midnight and I’m expecting her to come into the nursery tomorrow.”

Anthar sighed and glanced down at Jahrra. The lovely ceniket followed his gaze, noticing Jahrra for the first time.

“Oh! I beg your pardon,” she said in a very kind voice, “I hadn’t noticed you were in the middle of a conversation.”

“It’s quite alright, Mirrial,” he said lovingly. “Jahrra didn’t know of my plan to have you come rescue me.”

Jahrra gave him a puzzled look and he laughed.

“I feared I might get trapped here by some of our more enthusiastic members, so I commissioned Mirrial to come fetch me, claiming some emergency of sorts.”

Jahrra laughed, easily forgiving her professor for conspiring with Jaax.

“And here I am, being neglectful of proper social etiquette.” Anthar cleared his throat and said, holding his arm out to the ceniket, “Jahrra, might I present Mirrial, my lovely wife. Mirrial, this is Jahrraneh Drísíhn, the human child promised to us.”

Mirrial blinked several times, then her face lit up with joy. “Oh, but my husband has told me so much about you! You seem very well-suited to his class on wildlife.”

The ceniket reached out a hand and Jahrra took it, giving Anthar a knowing look. He merely grinned and shrugged his shoulders. Hadn’t known who she was indeed. Had Jaax spoken with all her professors, asking them to watch over her? Jahrra shook her head. She would be angry later.

Five more minutes of conversation ensued and then both Anthar and Mirrial were off.

“I was telling the truth about Gessa, and Tarthan has a nasty habit of staying awake for as long as he can,” Mirrial explained.

“Tarthan is our son and he is a very rambunctious toddler,” Anthar added to appease Jahrra’s puzzled look.

She smiled, imagining what a young centaur might be like. Jahrra watched as they left, walking arm in arm and waving to friends as they passed. The hall was finally beginning to empty out but there were still plenty of Coalition members to pester her for a word or two. After making friends with a few more Nesnan men, Jahrra looked up to find Dathian standing in front of her. She stilled, wondering what to say to him. Why did you behave like a common elf if you are really a prince? was one of many questions she wished to ask.

Jahrra bent her knees in a formal curtsy but Dathian held up a hand and shook his head slightly. He really did look regal, dressed in his finery, despite his glasses. Jahrra remembered how he had pretended to struggle up the hill earlier that week and how it was clear he wasn’t making much of an effort at all. He would have been exposed to his fair share of horsemanship and sword play if he were really a prince. It was no wonder he hadn’t really struggled. But why all the pretending?

“Please don’t curtsy,” he said. “You must wonder why I behaved the way I did, that day you helped retrieve my book.”

Jahrra could only nod.

Dathian took a breath and looked away, his arms still clasped loosely behind his back. Eventually, he returned his gaze to Jahrra.

“I’m the fifth son of the king of Dhonoara with no chance of inheriting the throne, unless my father and my older brothers should ever encounter something to relieve them of their immortality. Very unlikely to happen.”

Jahrra nodded again.

“I’ve been raised as a prince, learning all sorts of courtly manners and the proper actions a prince must make, but I have always wanted to escape that life. Since I’m so far away from ever inheriting the throne, my parents entertained my desire to leave home and study. The last thing I want is for the citizens of Lidien to learn who I truly am.”

Jahrra released a breath she hadn’t realized she was holding. His secrecy and strange behavior made perfect sense now. Of course he wished anonymity. Had she not complained of her treatment in Crie, and had she not wanted her true identity to remain unknown for as long as possible? Jahrra smiled and crossed her arms.

“Well, that explains a lot. You feared I would find your name listed somewhere in that book of yours, or research another until I did.”

Dathian grinned back, looking very much at ease now that Jahrra seemed to be in sympathy with him.

“The members of the Coalition know, of course, but so far they have given me their word of not informing anyone outside our group exactly how high up in the royal family I sit. If anyone sees me in my fine clothes, I admit to being a duke’s second cousin, nothing more.”

Jahrra laughed. She was so relieved he didn’t dislike her, and she told him as much. “I thought you were angry at me for some reason.”

Dathian cringed. “I was afraid of that, but I couldn’t divulge my identity. And I had no idea who you were at the time. Shall we keep our confidences to ourselves then? I won’t tell anyone who you are and you won’t tell them who I am?”

Jahrra nodded and held her hand up as if to pledge a vow. “Your secret is safe with me. But I’m afraid my identity has already been noticed. Many people already know and there is no keeping it from the entire population of Lidien.”

Dathian nodded then sighed. “It’s hard to make any lasting friends when you have such secrets to keep.”

“Then you shall be my friend. And I have a feeling you are a fair hand at swordplay.”

Dathian grinned wickedly. “How did you know?”

“Your highness, your costumes are superb but your acting skills? Atrocious.”

Dathian lifted a brow.

“You may have fooled our classmates on our hike but I knew you weren’t struggling. Sword fighting keeps you fit and if I am correct in my assumptions, then your royal upbringing would have demanded it.”

Dathian barked out a laugh. “You are far sharper than I originally thought. It seems I had good reason to fear your interest in my book. But please don’t call me ‘your highness’. Dathian will do just fine. And may I call you Jahrra?”

“Absolutely,” Jahrra said with a grin, thrusting a hand in his direction.

Dathian took it and shook it firmly.

“So, are you up for a little sport after class next week?”

Dathian nodded and sketched a quick bow. “I would be delighted.”

-Chapter Twelve-

Rescuing Dragons and Playing Hostess

The weeks following Jahrra’s first introduction to the Coalition flew by faster than she could take count of them. Summer was in full swing now and she found herself out on the deck above the kitchen more often than not, watching the bees buzz busily among the flowers she had planted in the empty flowerboxes. She was still angry at Jaax for his underhanded way of signing her up for her classes and she’d approached him about it the moment they got back from their meeting with the Coalition. Jahrra had stood in the center of the great room, her arms crossed with the dim light of the lanterns and candles casting her dark shadow across the spacious floor.

Jaax had merely shrugged nonchalantly and said, before disappearing down the hall to seek his own chambers for the night, “Although we are in Lidien I’ll not risk leaving you unguarded. At least I know that each time you step out of this house there will be others to keep their eyes on you just in case someone decides to cause you harm.”

Jahrra had gritted her teeth, a horrible habit she was beginning to develop, and tromped up the stairs to change into her night clothes. She would just have to put up with Jaax’s unpleasant ways of controlling her. Despite her irritation, she did wonder who might mean her harm in this city that held Ethöes and her more pleasant offspring in such high regard. Then again, she also knew from past experience that not everyone was going to like her, try as she might to please those she met. For now, she would cast aside her exasperation at her guardian and try to enjoy the fact that she was at last happy with very few bad memories or dreams creeping into her current life. She would enjoy what remained of the summer and try to look on the bright side of things.

The warm season was beautiful in Lidien. The flower pots and small gardens were overflowing with blossoms and vegetables, the trees that shaded the many streets showing their best in greenery and the soft pastels of their blossoms. The air was rich with floral scents and the citizens of Lidien seemed more cheerful as the warm weather continued and the days grew longer. The flower shops were busy with young men seeking a favor for the girls they wished to court and the young ladies were dressed in their best summer gowns. Jahrra merely grinned at all the merriment, glad to share in their lightness of heart.

As the season dragged on Jahrra found herself practicing longer and more often with Torrell and Senton, and now Dathian. When the royal elf first showed up the week after the Coalition meeting, Torrell had asked, in her usual blatant way, what he was doing there. When Dathian explained he’d been invited by Jahrra, two pairs of surprised eyes had fallen upon her.

Jahrra had merely shrugged. “I ran into him last weekend and he explained that the book had belonged to a cherished grandmother. It was all a misunderstanding and I invited him to join us.”

“Could have been a little more straightforward with the reason for your rudeness,” Torrell had muttered, not quite under her breath.

Senton seemed pleased to have another male around, so he didn’t complain at all.

It turned out, to Jahrra’s great delight and slight surprise, that Dathian was even more skilled than either her or Torrell.

“Where on Ethöes did you learn that?” Torrell had breathed after being soundly beaten by the elf.

Dathian rolled his shoulder in response. “My parents are highly skilled and I learned from them.”

Of course he gave up no more information and Torrell had to force herself to be satisfied with that much.

At the start of autumn the University closed for a few weeks, giving the professors and the students a break to rest their minds. Jahrra spent much of this time practicing with her friends and anyone who would challenge them, riding Phrym through the parks or (when Jaax was unaware of it) in the woods surrounding the boundaries of the city.

She also became quite a regular attendant at the Coalition meetings. After all, she wouldn’t be back in school for two weeks so she figured sitting in and listening to Jaax and his colleagues was a good way to spend her extra time. Especially since now she was very much entangled with the fate of all those involved. She often sat next to Dathian when she could and soon became familiar with the many players, so to say.

Dathian whispered the names, titles and opinions of those who stood to speak at any time during the lengthy meetings. Most of those who had been seated on the stage that first night were important leaders in their part of the world, but at least half of them thought only of their own region and not the world as a whole.

“That could pose a problem in the future,” Dathian murmured during one of the more subdued meetings. “If everyone is only thinking of themselves no one will consider what we can accomplish together.”

Jahrra nodded her agreement but then scowled as she caught sight of Shiroxx watching her from her place among the crowd. Her eyes were narrowed and she tilted her head just so, so that Jahrra might think she placed her attention elsewhere.

Dathian followed Jahrra’s gaze.

“Ah,” he said quietly, “that one. She might be the largest leech I’ve ever met. Intent on draining all the joy out of a room. You should go ask what type of blood she prefers.”

Jahrra stopped her laugh in her nose and had to cover her mouth with her hand. Jaax, who was standing near the podium, listening intently to one of the member’s concerns, turned his gaze on her and gave her a withering look. With some effort, Jahrra managed a straight face. With regards to questioning Shiroxx on her preference of blood type, Jahrra was pretty sure she already knew. After growing bored with glaring at Jahrra, the female dragon’s glance fell upon Jaax. Jahrra tried not to shiver but she feared she failed.

To get her thoughts off of the red Tanaan dragon, Jahrra looked next to her golden scaled companion. The other dragon appeared smaller and younger than both Jaax and Shiroxx but it was clear he was of Tanaan descent. From her seat on the stage Jahrra couldn’t quite make out all of his features, but there was a great scar running up one side of his neck. She wondered how he’d received it but before she could think any further on it, Dathian was there to assist her again.

“Our lady Shiroxx’s companion is Kehllor. I don’t know much about him but I do know his parentage and history are relatively unknown.”

“Where did he get that scar?” she whispered back as her guardian’s voice filled the assembly hall, answering the queries that had been laid before him.

Dathian merely shrugged. He seemed to know everyone here and what their specific role was in the Coalition. If he didn’t know much about this Kehllor then maybe no one did.

Jahrra decided to let her curiosity go for now. She had seen the younger dragon at a few other meetings and although they hadn’t yet been introduced she was sure it would happen at some point in time. Whenever she saw him during these gatherings in Essýel Auditorium, he was always with Shiroxx and the other black Tanaan, but Kehllor always stayed close to her side as if she held him there with a leash. Jahrra snorted at the idea, her usual feeling of disgust towards the red dragon creeping up a bit. She would have let the same feeling apply to Kehllor, but there was something in his eyes that held her at bay. Was it fear? Loathing? No, worse, something she had felt too often in her life: helplessness.

A strange realization crept over her then. Kehllor was being controlled. And Jahrra had an idea of who was to blame: Shiroxx. She didn’t know the female dragon very well but she had seen her in action. After that first official meeting in the library Jahrra had been on her guard. Even a week later, when Jaax had made good on his promise to walk with her in the gardens, she knew better than to skip along and pretend like everyone was on their best behavior. Shiroxx was trying to control her, or Jaax, as well. Yes, she was trying to direct Jaax in one way or another. How could Jahrra have missed it? But there was one little problem to this scheme of hers: Jaax was impossible to control.

Jahrra let her eyes wander to the pair of Tanaan standing off to the side once more. Gratefully, Shiroxx’s other companion, Rohdann, wasn’t present. Dathian had told Jahrra about him at the last Coalition meeting. She would have just ignored the black dragon but there was something about the way his pale blue eyes had considered her, as if he was planning to hunt her down and eat her for breakfast. His coloring didn’t help either; the blackness of his scales drawing the eye the way a dark shadow spread across the ground forces one to take notice of it. When Jahrra had asked what he was like, Dathian merely sniffed and told her he was just like Shiroxx.

Jahrra shook her head and got back to her previous thoughts. She could consider Rohdann later, perhaps when he was actually present. Instead, she turned back to the idea of Shiroxx controlling Kehllor. It was as plain as day now. The female dragon, resplendent and looking regally bored as ever, and Kehllor, a bronze statue beside her, eyes hard as flint, scowling and looking as if he waited for the simplest of instructions so that he could please his mistress.

Jahrra shivered and Dathian cast her a curious look. “You can’t be cold,” he whispered. He’d returned to his laid back stance, listening to the political banter once again.

“No,” Jahrra said automatically, taking what seemed like the first breath after holding it for a very long time, “just thinking.”

Dathian chuckled quietly. “A very dangerous endeavor, I should think.”

Jahrra narrowed her eyes at the red and gold dragons once again, ignoring her friend’s jibe. She decided then and there that she would try, though she had no idea how she could succeed, at getting Kehllor out of Shiroxx’s claws. As if hearing her thoughts, Shiroxx turned her head and spoke a few quiet words to her young companion. Kehllor hid an infinitesimal flinch but nodded his head and stood to leave.

“Yes,” Jahrra whispered, her eyes glued to the Tanaan dragon now leaving the hall, “a very dangerous endeavor indeed.”

She stood up from her place on the edge of the stage. Dathian gave her a surprised look and formed his mouth in a question.

“I need to visit the privy,” Jahrra hissed and scuttled off, taking one of the side exits so as not to disturb the entire congregation. Or to draw Jaax’s attention away from his current distraction.

Jahrra pushed the door open and bolted up the stairs that would take her to the main foyer. She sprinted out into the hallway, hoping to see Kehllor, but cursed and began moving more quickly just as the golden tail of a dragon disappeared through the doorway out onto the plaza.

“Kehllor, wait!” she called, shocking herself at her own brazenness.

Was it just a few short weeks ago she’d dreaded meeting anyone in the Coalition? Now she was chasing after members she had not yet been introduced to.

To her surprise, the Tanaan dragon stopped and cast her a confused but disgruntled glance over his shoulder. She hurried down the stairs to keep up.

“Hello,” she breathed, “sorry, you don’t know me, but,”

“I know who you are,” he said, his voice as cool and clipped as Shiroxx’s, but deeper and smoother.

“Yes, well, most people do by now,” Jahrra responded with a grin. “Do you mind if we go over there?”

She pointed to the shade of the large oak she liked so well. Kehllor hesitated, looking her up and down as if studying a potential enemy. Jahrra took the time to catch her breath and study this new dragon just as carefully. He was smaller than Jaax, perhaps a few feet shorter and not as broad in the shoulders. His scales, upon closer inspection, had a slight green tinge to them but were spangled with gold, bronze and copper flecks.

“I just wanted to introduce myself properly, since I didn’t get a chance to speak with you the other night.”

Finally they were in the shade and Jahrra took advantage of the short stone wall encircling the tree. She sat and gave Kehllor her full attention. The scar that ran up his neck continued past his eye, something she hadn’t noticed from a distance before. It was a wonder his eye, a dark blue, hadn’t lost any of its function. It must have been a terrible wound at some point and Jahrra wondered once again how he’d received it. An image of Shiroxx slashing her claws in anger flashed into her mind. She did away with it just as quickly as it arrived. The female dragon was too controlled for violence of that sort, and it seemed too cruel, even for her.

“I’m Jahrra,” she finally said, “and I’ve been told your name is Kehllor?”

The dragon nodded, his rigid stance relaxing a little.

“I’m sorry if I’m keeping you from anything important,” she said, waving a hand over the mildly crowded plaza, “it’s just that I saw you get up to leave and thought it might be a good time to introduce myself without all those people around.”

The dragon still wasn’t speaking and Jahrra felt as if she was babbling. She took a breath and said, “Anyways, if you have something to do for Shiroxx I don’t want to keep you.”

“No,” he finally said, his voice softer now. “I mean, yes, she asked me to run an errand for her but it is not an emergency. I can spare a few minutes.”

Jahrra grinned inwardly, trying not to let it show on her face. So, he was answering to Shiroxx’s beck and call, but from his tone and what he’d told her, he didn’t seem too happy about it. Jahrra dearly wanted to know what Shiroxx had done to keep such a tight rein on him but that would be far too blatant a thing to ask. Besides, most people who had to suffer the power of others didn’t like to talk about it. She should know, what with her own issues with Jaax.

“Well,” she finally said, “like I said, I just wanted to introduce myself. I’ll let you get back to your errand and I should probably get back to the meeting before Jaax notices I’m missing. Don’t want him sending out delegates to go looking for me.”

She smiled and was rewarded with a small chuckle from Kehllor. He sobered quickly but he still had a grin and the laughter still sparkled in his eyes. “No, we wouldn’t want that.”

“Maybe we can talk again, after one of the meetings, if there is time?” she braved.

“Maybe,” he said, then turned and walked away.

Jahrra watched him for a while, her arms crossed and her lips pursed. She couldn’t say why but the golden dragon intrigued her. Maybe it was because she could somehow detect his cry for help and somehow helping him would be a strike against Shiroxx.

Sighing, she made her way back into the hall, taking the stairs and returning the same way she’d left. The meeting was still in order, a different member with a different complaint this time, so no one but Dathian noticed as she slipped back into her seat. She would give Kehllor’s plight some thought but in the end she wasn’t sure what she could do for him, other than extend her friendship and offer an ear to listen to his woes. That is, if he ever decided to talk to her again.

* * *

Autumn in Lidien, Jahrra decided, was by far her favorite season. The deciduous trees gently turned to crimson and gold and although the evenings held a bite of chill in the air, the days were relatively warm and pleasantly breezy on occasion. The people of Lidien seemed to agree, for everywhere she went Jahrra caught sight of harvest garlands and the signs of Sobledthe going up all over the city. The recess from school was drawing to an end with Jahrra eager to return, especially to her wildlife class. But on the weekend before the start of classes, Jaax surprised her with a question and a suggestion.

“Jahrra, are you making friends here in Lidien?”

They were sitting in the great room, enjoying a late dinner by the fire. The night was cooler than usual and they had come home late from a Coalition meeting. Jahrra had paid attention to the first half of the meeting which involved issues concerning potential allies from across the realms of Ethöes, but after that it had dissolved into the typical political banter she had grown so accustomed to.

She didn’t know how Jaax managed to keep a straight face while speaking to everyone’s concerns, whether they be petty or highly important, as if he cared. Perhaps he did care. Perhaps this is why he was their leader. But Jahrra couldn’t stomach it. Instead she would watch the faces of those who argued, and more often than not, those who did not argue. These were the people who said the most, in her opinion, for sometimes their silence spoke volumes.

She often found herself keeping a close eye on the dragon Kehllor. He never caught her watching him and ever since that day she had run him down to introduce herself, she had never forgotten about how she had hoped to help him. But his resolve was stone solid and she couldn’t figure out how to break through and reach him.

Jahrra sighed and forced her thoughts back on the present. She cut a delicate slice of roast beef and looked at her guardian. His tone had been slightly apprehensive, anxious even. Jaax wanted to know if she had any friends in Lidien? Of course she did. Senton, Torrell and Dathian definitely, not to mention some of her other classmates she met with for lunch or tea in the small shops just off the University campus on occasion.

Yes she had friends, but she had never introduced these people to Jaax. Well, there was that first introduction with Senton but that had been somewhat forced. And he knew Dathian from the Coalition but did he know the elf was her friend outside the group? And he had never met Torrell. Jahrra grinned with joyful malice. Oh, to experience the introduction of her guardian to her strong-willed friend . . .

Clearing her throat, Jahrra turned to Jaax and said, “Of course I have friends. Remember Senton? You met him on my first day of class. And you know Dathian. I don’t just talk to him at the Coalition meetings and he is Anthar’s assistant for my wildlife class. You haven’t met Torrell yet but perhaps you shouldn’t . . .” Jahrra trailed off, her tone more teasing than anything else.

Jaax didn’t speak for a long while; so long she thought maybe he took her to be serious. Eventually he said, “You have never brought them around. I thought,” he took a breath, “never mind what I thought.”

He sounded disturbed, worried . . . wounded? Jahrra couldn’t put her finger on it. Whatever it was, though, it pained her. He had been so prickly the past month after having been so placative on their journey here. Could there be more to the petty arguments and trifling complaints of the members of the Coalition than she had first thought? Could there be more going on that she wasn’t aware of? Deeper issues that weighed her guardian’s mind severely, causing him to be short with her and overly protective of her?

Jahrra felt suddenly ashamed. His tone when he asked about her friends, and then his mention of how she never brought them around had once again shown that side of him he never portrayed in public. And that was just it; when they were in public he was always harsh with her, as if he was trying to distance her from himself. Another way he was trying to protect her perhaps?

Jahrra shook her head and considered his words tonight. He had made it sound as if she was ashamed of him or feared for her friends’ safety if she did bring them home one afternoon. Then she braved a glance at him. He wasn’t looking directly at her but she thought she read something in his face, as hard as it was to see clearly in the dim firelight. Jahrra was taken aback at what she saw. Was that guilt and remorse etched in those harsh, reptilian lines? Was this his way of making amends for his callous behavior? His way of apologizing for covertly placing her in the classes he approved of and for the way Shiroxx had treated her?

She swallowed and took a breath, thinking of how to pitch her voice so as to cause the least harm. “I thought about asking them over once but I’ve been busy, with school and making an appearance at the meetings,” she said, eyes downcast, her dinner growing cold and forgotten. “I never got around to asking-”

“Of course you can have friends over Jahrra,” Jaax cut her off, his voice seeming to return to its normal gruffness, “you aren’t afraid I will burn them to a crisp are you?”

Jahrra winced. In the back of her mind yes, she had thought that. “No,” she said tentatively, “though I’m afraid Torrell might be a bit, um, abrasive. She makes me seem like a timid mouse.”

Jaax did raise a brow at that. “Impossible,” he said, his mouth quirking in a smile.

Jahrra grinned, feeling the strange tension drain out of the room. “I shall invite them over this weekend, before school starts up again.”

The Tanaan dragon nodded, “I’ll make a note to be home, at least long enough to meet these friends of yours. Properly.”

* * *

“Your place, for dinner?” Senton seemed shocked. So much so that he misfired his arrow and gave himself a nasty burn from the bowstring.

Torrell stood in her typical, casual fashion, leaning against the longbow she was using for practice as if it were a staff. She gave Jahrra one of her demanding looks and said, “Really? Is his highness, the great and marvelous Raejaaxorix, in accordance with this?”

Jahrra felt her cheeks burning. She really had complained too much about Jaax to Torrell of late. She really never noticed she was doing it, but it was high time she stopped. Breaking that old habit of hers might be difficult, but how must it look to everyone if the leader of the Coalition and his ward bickered all the time?

“Yes, he’s aware Torrell. In fact, it was his idea. And he isn’t really all that bad, honestly.”

Torrell snorted and got back to her target practice.

Jahrra brushed back a loose strand of hair and cast a glance at Dathian. He was watching her carefully so she whispered, “Don’t worry, Jaax knows how to be . . . discreet. He won’t let slip who you are.”

That’s all the elf needed to hear for he grinned, his blue-green eyes glinting, and nodded as he knocked an arrow. “I’ll be there.”

He released the arrow and it plunged into the heart of the bull’s eye several yards away.

“Ugh! How are you doing that?!” Torrell demanded in disgust, her black curls flying free of her hair tie.

Two days later, Jahrra was pacing the great room, the hem of one of her nicer pairs of pants brushing softly against the carpet. She had chewed the nail of her left thumb away and was about to start on the right when Neira burst from the small door leading to the kitchen to scold her.

“Miss Jahrra! Do stop that! It will do you no good to pace around, winding your nerves all up. They’re your friends for goodness sake; you don’t need to impress them!”

Jahrra sighed and gave the maid a sheepish look. “I know but I can’t help it! And Jaax isn’t even back yet!”

Neira clucked her tongue. “He’ll be here, don’t you fret. Now have a seat and read a book while you’re waiting. I’ll go get the fire on the patio started.”

Jahrra stood to argue and Neira cast her a quelling glance. “If you come up to help me, who’ll get the door when your friends arrive?”

Soundly defeated, Jahrra sank back into a couch and tried to read the book on the nearest table. The late afternoon sun cast golden light through the tall windows and the relative silence of the grand house seemed to claw at her nerves. Fifteen minutes passed and Jahrra heard the latch of the great door lift as Jaax opened it from the outside.

“No friends yet? Good,” he said, “I’m not late.”

Jahrra felt slightly better and smiled as her guardian pulled the door shut behind him. He didn’t go directly to his own quarters as he usually did upon arriving home, but instead moved towards the wide dais that stood in the corner of the room.

He looked weary, Jahrra thought. That fact worried her, for Jaax seldom looked weary, only during those weeks on the road when he feared they were being pursued by the Crimson King’s soldiers. Before she could think further on it the knocker at the small door clanged and Jahrra leapt to her feet, her heart going with her. She shot Jaax a quick look and he merely returned it casually.

“They are your guests,” he said, rising, “you should be the one to welcome them in.”

Jahrra didn’t know why she was so nervous. Neira was right; it was ridiculous, but she couldn’t help herself. She had never really had friends over before, except for Gieaun and Scede in Oescienne, but that had been different from this somehow. Tentatively, she opened the door. She was surprised to see all three of her friends standing on the wide top step of Jaax’s mansion but that soon passed when Torrell held up a paper bag.

“Marshroot,” she said, her usual, no-nonsense demeanor taking on a glint of humor. “You roast it over the fire, and, oh, you’ll just have to try it. Hard to describe.”

“Oh,” Jahrra managed, taking the bag, “we’ll have it after dinner.”

Then she managed to remember her manners. “Do come in everyone! It’s getting cold outside.”

Torrell, Dathian and Senton shuffled in, all seeming just as nervous as Jahrra. Even Torrell’s self-assurance seemed a little faded.

Jahrra shut the door and turned around to consider her guests. They were glancing around the great room, taking in the height of the ceiling, the size of the fireplace, the quality of the carpets, tapestries and couches, admiring the tall windows, noticing the looming dragon . . .

“Uh,” Jahrra cleared her throat, “Everybody, this is my guardian, Raejaaxorix. Jaax, this is Torrell, Dathian and Senton,” she said, gesturing to each of them in turn.

Senton smiled and gave a quick bow, a copy of the one he gave the first time he met Jaax in front of Emehriel Hall. Dathian mimicked the gesture, acting the part of someone who was freshly becoming acquainted with the dragon. Torrell, to Jahrra’s immense surprise, merely gaped at him the way a mouse might regard an owl that was swooping down upon it.

It was very hard to swallow the sudden laughter that bubbled up without drawing too much attention, but Jahrra managed. She never would have imagined that Torrell, her feisty, fearless friend, who had intimated on several occasions that she would like the chance to confront and fight a dragon, would be at a loss for words upon meeting Jaax. But, Jahrra thought with a grin, if anyone was to make Torrell act discomfited it would be Jaax.

“It is very nice to meet you all,” her guardian said in the voice he reserved for diplomacy. “Please, feel free to make yourselves at home. I hear Jahrra has an interesting dinner planned for you all but you must excuse me, I have business to attend to in my study. I am glad I took the time to meet you all. It is clear that Jahrra has chosen very fine friends indeed.”

Her guardian was all cordial manners and pleasantries and Jahrra felt herself blushing slightly. She smiled and motioned for her friends to follow her up the stairs. Senton was right behind her, admiring the inner design of the house, with a still speechless Torrell on his heels. Dathian seemed to fall back a bit but Jahrra only assumed it was to share a few words with Jaax concerning Coalition business.

Once upstairs, Jahrra could see that Neira had lit the hall lanterns for them. She must have snuck back downstairs and into the kitchen before everyone arrived. Before taking them out onto the patio, she showed them her room and only because Torrell insisted. Luckily, Jahrra had made an effort to tidy it up a bit so all dirty laundry, loose papers and other items were properly placed where they belonged. Torrell wanted to see Jahrra’s dresses and thankfully Senton was happy studying the tapestries of the maps on her walls.

“These are some of the finest dresses I’ve seen,” Torrell said, splaying the skirts of Jahrra’s moss and lavender dress out so she could admire it better.

Torrell may be tough but she did have her feminine side.

Jahrra merely shrugged, trying not to feel too abashed. “The ladies at the seamstress’s shop had the final say on the pattern. I only really cared about the color, and even then they made suggestions.”

Torrell dropped the hem of the dress. “Well, someone spared no expense on you.”

She crossed her arms and gave a smirk and Jahrra felt her face flush again. She really was doing that far too often for her own liking.

“Jaax has had a long time to accumulate wealth,” she said, “and he says I have to have appropriate attire if I’m to be taken seriously by the Coalition.”

Jahrra’s explanation sounded weak, even to her.

“Uh huh,” was all Torrell said to that.

Before the moment could grow too awkward, however, Dathian stepped through the door and looked around. “Nice room,” he said.

Feeling slightly relieved, Jahrra gathered them up and led them out onto the patio, telling everyone to watch their head or their step as they passed through the open window.

The fire was already crackling, as Neira had promised, and the sausages and bread, butter, cheese and assorted fruits were spread out on the stone table waiting to be consumed.

“We can have apples too,” Jahrra gestured happily to her little grove on the opposite end of the terrace. “The fruit is finally ripe.”

As the sun set in the west and the stars started showing themselves in the sky, Jahrra, Torrell, Senton and Dathian settled down on the stone benches with spare blankets and cushions. They roasted the sausages and even tried roasting the apples, which turned out better than Jahrra had expected. At the end of their meal they tried the marshroot that Torrell had brought with her. Using sticks gathered from the apple trees, they speared the pale tubers and held them over the fire.

“Just until they are golden brown,” Torrell said.

Once they were done, Jahrra gave hers a tentative bite then looked up at Torrell as her eyes grew wide in surprise.

“These are good!” Senton spoke for her, his mouth full of roasted marshroot.

“I’ve never had this before, is it a family secret?” Dathian asked, doing his best to remove the sticky marshroot from his fingers with some dignity.

“Of a sort,” Torrell grinned. “The marshroot is native to the wetlands between Lake Hrônah and Lake Aaryitt in the east. My mother’s family is from there so they brought the plant with them when the settled in Lidien. Luckily it can be grown in a pot on our patio, but the soil must always be very damp.” She finished her story off by plopping a golden brown marshroot into her mouth.

The rest of the night consisted of everyone telling stories about family and friends or what had happened to them before they had met one another. Jahrra, naturally, had the most to say, for she had the longest history it seemed, except for Dathian of course. But obviously, the elf wasn’t about to divulge his family history to anyone.

“What’s it like living with a dragon?” Torrell wanted to know, her voice falling quietly to match the cadence of the low coals of the fire.

“Don’t worry Torrell,” Jahrra said with a grin, “it’s not as if Jaax is standing below the terrace, listening to our every word.”

Her friend’s eyes widened at that, and Jahrra half suspected this was exactly what Torrell was thinking.

“I’d like to know too,” Senton added.

Jahrra glanced at her blond friend and grinned. She was grateful she hadn’t followed through with her original instincts that day she met Senton. He had proved to be such a wonderful friend; easygoing, and good-natured. Nothing about him was mean or cruel or forceful. She wondered what it must be like to be so carefree and she almost felt a pang of jealousy, for Senton didn’t have the same burdens she did. But then she mentally kicked herself. He had lost his mother. Perhaps he was just better at dealing with his sorrow than her.

“Honestly?” she said, finally answering her friends’ questions. “I don’t know. I don’t really have anything to compare it with. Ever since I was eight years old, I lived with dragons. I remember my parents, of course, but it was so long ago, almost ten years now.”

Jahrra’s voice dropped off, but she shook away the stale sorrow.

“I think the real question is,” Dathian broke in, piercing the strange silence with his calm voice, “what is it like living with Jaax? He isn’t just any dragon you know; he’s the leader of the Coalition and has quite the reputation all throughout the western world as a dragon not to be trifled with.”

Jahrra looked up from where she sat, her arms wrapped around her knees and as close to the fire as she could get. Everyone had moved down onto the ground, the blankets wrapped around them, the orange glow of the fire bathing their faces in light. She reviewed Dathian’s words. Now that was quite a question, followed by quite a statement. But what really forced Jahrra’s thoughts to come to a standstill was the irrefutable truth that reverberated through what he had just said.

Her first natural response to the question of what it was like living with Jaax would have been ‘A pain’, but luckily, Jahrra stopped herself. She thought about how, yes, it was very difficult at times to be the ward of such a powerful and influential dragon. But what about the other times, like when he’d stayed awake with her those many nights her nightmares chased any sleep away, or the other night, when he had so thoughtfully hinted that she should invite her friends over? No, it wasn’t a pain living with Jaax, but it wasn’t a grand delight either.

Screwing up her face in thought, Jahrra answered as honestly as she could, “It’s challenging. He’s very hard to live with on some days but on other days he isn’t. He expects much of me and pushes me to do my best and to achieve as much as possible, but he is fair and comforting when needed. So, yes it’s challenging to live with the dragon Raejaaxorix but he is the only family I have now, and I think I might be the only family he has left as well.”

Jahrra leaned her head against her knees and thought about the shocking truth of what she had just said. Was Jaax family? I guess so, she told herself. She tilted her head to the side and caught Dathian watching her. He smiled and bowed his head ever so slightly, as if telling her she gave a very good answer to his question. She grinned back at him, her eyes feeling sleepy.

The sound of horses neighing, followed by the clatter of wheels digging through the gravel drive brought them all to attention. Jahrra blinked at her friends and Senton sighed, rising and bringing his blanket with him as he walked to the edge of the terrace.

“Yup, it’s the coach. Must be time to go.”

Jahrra was thoroughly worn out but slightly pleased to hear the tinge of disappointment in her friend’s tone.

Torrell groaned and yawned, stretching as she too stood up. She looked down at Jahrra and shrugged, “We decided to split a coach. Thought it’d be safer and a little easier if we all came together and left together as well.”

“Of course,” Jahrra said, rising to send her friends off properly.

They trudged back downstairs, the hall and great room relatively dark and quiet, save for a few lanterns that still burned along the stone walls and the glow of the dying embers in the fireplace. Jahrra bid everyone goodnight, telling them she would see them in class, and shut the door behind her, latching it securely. She leaned her back against the door and listened to the carriage disappear before heading back upstairs.

“I take it your evening went well?”

Jahrra only started a little, rolling her head against the back of the door so that she could see Jaax standing just inside of the archway on his side of the house. She shrugged and grinned.

“We had a good time, though I wish they could have stayed longer.”

Jaax nodded, but it was hard for her to see since the house was so dark.

“You must be working on something important,” Jahrra said delicately to fill the emptiness. “To have been kept busy all this time.”

A huff of breath followed by the rustling of wings was all the response Jahrra got, but after a while her guardian spoke up again, a deep voice emanating from the darkness of the hall.

“Not so much important, but necessary. Besides, I was trying to stay out of the way.”

Jahrra abruptly stood up from her semi-reclining position against the door and took a few steps in Jaax’s direction.

“You didn’t have to stay out of the way!” she blurted, then bit her lip for the feebleness of her remark. Even to her own ears she sounded like a child caught excluding others for no real reason at all.

Jaax chuckled, but made no motion to move.

“No, really,” Jahrra wrapped her arms around herself, trying to get a better hold of what it was she was trying to say. Finally, she took a deep breath and told the truth, “Jaax, I would have really liked it if you had spent some time with us. We could have just as easily roasted apples and sausages and marshroot over the fire in here. You didn’t have to make yourself busy with work.”

Again, the silence. Jahrra wondered if Jaax had as hard a time as her coming up with the right words to say. He remained quiet for so long she thought he might have slinked off into the dark; back to his rooms.

“Well then,” he finally said, “you’ll just have to invite them over again, won’t you?”

She heard the smile in his voice and couldn’t help smiling herself. She felt her shoulders relax a bit then wondered why she had been tense.

“Good,” she said, feeling her spirits perk up just a little, “because they had a lot of questions about you.”

With that final statement, Jahrra swept across the ornate carpet of the great room and disappeared up the stairs before Jaax could come up with any sort of response.

Only after she was dressed for bed and had her head resting on one of her down pillows, did she dare let her mind wander freely. It had been a wonderful night. In fact, it had been the best night she had had in a very long time, so long she couldn’t remember. She would definitely be inviting her friends over more often, especially if Jaax stuck around to take part in the conversation. For some strange reason, the idea was not only daunting, but pleasant as well.

-Chapter Thirteen-

Sobledthe in the City

The weeks following Jahrra’s successful night of playing hostess were crammed with school lessons, Coalition meetings and practices in the afternoons with her friends. She still attended the same classes as last term and wouldn’t sign up for new ones until after the Solsticetide break, which was a little over a month away. As the days grew shorter and the weather grew cooler, Torrell, Dathian, Senton and Jahrra found it harder to practice as long as usual.

“I have at least one of the days of the weekend free,” Jahrra told them one afternoon as they returned their practice gear and bundled into their jackets. They had left class only two hours ago and already it was growing dark.

“Let me check with my father,” Senton said, stretching out his arms and legs.

That just left Dathian, who claimed he had both days free most weekends, and Torrell who also had to check with her parents.

“Sometimes they need me to watch Renaya,” Torrell said, making a face at the idea of wasting a weekend keeping an eye on her baby sister.

Jahrra had visited Torrell’s house once to pick something up before practice and she had found the younger girl charming.

“Obnoxious brat, most of the time,” Torrell had sniffed, out of her mother’s hearing range of course.

Jahrra had merely stifled a grin, for although Torrell had tried to seem serious, it was apparent that she loved her little sister dearly.

Jahrra tightened Phrym’s saddle, the sound of leather and buckles now occupying her thoughts. Once everything was in place she climbed onto Phrym’s back and turned to face her friends.

“Before I forget,” she said, “what are all of you doing for Sobledthe?”

The harvest holiday was still a few weeks off but Jahrra thought it best to get her plans in order early. After talking to Jaax about enjoying the entertainment the city of Lidien had to offer then having her friends stay over for the night, she was eager to finalize everything before her guardian had a chance to change his mind. To her surprise, however, he seemed to think it a great idea. That is, as long as he was present for the duration of the night.

“Of course you’ll be!” Jahrra had answered him in exasperation. “We need to stay up all night anyways and you promised to join us the next time I had friends over.”

She took a deep breath and nudged Phrym in the ribs to get him to move forward. Her friends followed suit with their own mounts.

“Depends,” Senton said in response to her question, “what have you got planned?”

She explained it to them; about venturing through the city to see what it had to offer then ending up back at Jaax’s estate on the hill.

“Jaax has promised to be there so you’ll have all night long to ask him whatever questions you’d like. That is, if you aren’t too afraid to,” she said, casting Torrell a mischievous grin.

Torrell crossed her arms and took on her domineering stance. “I wasn’t afraid, Jahrra. I just didn’t realize he would be so big, close up.”

Jahrra snorted a laugh and Dathian and Senton joined her.

The next few weeks passed by quickly. Jahrra’s history class was starting to broach subjects that she didn’t have any knowledge in yet, the concepts in her math class were becoming easier to grasp, and Anthar was taking his class on more and more field trips. One fine afternoon he even had them meet at the docks. From there they took a large sailing vessel out into the bay to search for fisher hawks, kelp trowp, and starglow sea pixies.

“Now, the kelp trowp are normally found in the kelp forests of the coast and open sea but since Lidien Bay is so large there are a few isolated schools here,” Anthar told them, his voice carrying over the lap of the water against the boat and the sharp snap of the wind whipping the sails.

“The starglow sea pixies are even harder to find, for they are small and elusive. The only reason we have them here in the bay is because of Felldreim’s magic. Otherwise, you’ll only find them in the warm waters of Torinn.”

Jahrra listened intently, jotting down notes in her journal as their professor spoke. The breeze was salty and cool, the essence of fall permeating the air. The waters of the bay spread out far around them, deep blue and crystal bright on the surface.

“Look! Over there!” someone shouted, holding up a pair of binoculars and pointing to a crop of pines clinging to the edge of the far shore. “A fisher hawk!”

Jahrra spun around in her excitement, and she would have fallen overboard if it hadn’t been for Dathian’s gentle hands grabbing her shoulders and steadying her. She blushed in embarrassment, murmuring her thanks as he gave her a short bow no one else seemed to notice.

Feeling slightly flustered, she untangled her binoculars from her neck and held them up. There, on the top of one of the trees perched an eagle, a glimmering fish clutched in its talons.

“Ah, wonderful!” Anthar said, his hooves thumping against the wooden deck. “Look at its coloring, beautiful! And look closely at its middle toe; shorter than the others so that it might grasp its prey better.”

Jahrra did, trying to memorize every detail from its rusty colored neck and legs to its brown wings, black tail and cream body. She gazed at it until it flew off to find a less open perch in order to finish its meal. Quickly, Jahrra sketched it in her journal, writing down every detail when she was finished.

“You sure take this class seriously Jahrra,” Senton almost grumbled next to her.

She blinked up in surprise, blowing strands of hair out of her face. “Oh, I guess I just like wildlife.”

She shrugged as Senton turned to look out over the bay again. She sensed something was wrong in her friend’s stance, but she couldn’t place what exactly it was. Maybe he didn’t like being on a boat. No, that couldn’t be it. She chewed on the end of her pencil as she studied his back. He hadn’t seemed himself these past few weeks, maybe even longer than that. Jahrra couldn’t quite put her finger on it but it was as if he’d learned some new secret about her that made him uncomfortable because his normal, amiable personality seemed to have faded. She heaved a sigh, filling her lungs with salty air, and released it. She would worry about Senton’s odd behavior later.

On their way back to the dock, Anthar reminded them all to be on their best behavior that long weekend while they enjoyed the delights of the Sobledthe festival.

“I will be out and about so remember, if any of you are planning any shenanigans I very well may see you in the act.”

He gave them all a harsh glance that Jahrra knew wasn’t all that serious, so she didn’t try too hard to hide her grin.

“So, we’re meeting in the main plaza of the University tomorrow at noon to go shopping, right?” Torrell asked as they finished up with archery practice that afternoon.

Jahrra nodded, barely able to keep the look of glee off her face. She wondered if Lidien had a scavenger hunt like Lensterans but thought it might be wise not to take part, after what happened the last time . . .

On their way home, Jahrra asked her friends if they had made costumes for the festival.

“Costumes are for the children,” Torrell said matter-of-factly.

Jahrra inclined her head, only slightly disappointed to hear such news, but she didn’t have anything to wear that might even resemble a costume so the four of them decided to use their day off tomorrow to purchase masks.

At noon the next day Jahrra met her three friends on the plaza below Emehriel Hall. From there they wandered out into the main part of Lidien, finding a quaint little store only a few blocks away from campus that had been set up specifically for the upcoming harvest festival. It was overflowing with costumes, magical charms, trinkets and a whole assortment of autumn decorations.

“How about this one?” Senton said once they were inside the shop, holding up a mask that resembled a grotesque goblin.

Jahrra had been looking at some small spell books, but when she turned to see what Senton was talking about she nearly cried out in terror. The mask he held was dark red and chillingly resembled the demon she had seen in the nightmares she’d had after her parents’ deaths.

Dathian had been just behind her, catching her as she nearly fell over in her shock.

The elf cast Senton a perturbed look, “Are you trying to be funny?”

Senton dropped the mask, his face slightly flushed. In embarrassment or anger, Jahrra couldn’t tell.

“No,” he spluttered, “I was just wondering if she liked it, but apparently she doesn’t.”

He sounded indignant and Dathian’s grip on Jahrra’s arms as he held her up was becoming uncomfortable. All of a sudden she felt unbearably foolish. Clearing her throat, she regained her balance and placed a hand on Dathian’s arm.

“Thank you,” she said, then turned to face Senton. “I’m sorry Senton, I know you weren’t being mean. It’s just, I used to have nightmares, and that mask . . .”

Senton looked down at it, his grey eyes growing wide. Quickly, he thrust it behind his back. “I’m sorry Jahrra!” he said, his face flushing anew.

Torrell eyed them from the corner of the shop, her eyebrow arched in keen interest. Jahrra felt mildly uncomfortable, for her other friend seemed to watch them as a magician might watch the progress of his potion in a cauldron.

“How about these then,” she said, whipping her arm around from behind her back, four masks, all of a different color, hanging from strings she had looped around her index finger.

“Two of them are a little more feminine than the others, so Jahrra and I will wear those ones.”

“Yes. Fine. Let’s get them,” Jahrra said, taking hers from Torrell without even looking at it and walking to the counter.

Senton and Dathian were the first to leave the shop, Dathian as casual as ever, Senton still looking a little wound up from the mask incident. Jahrra moved to follow them, but Torrell’s arm blocking the doorway stopped her short. Blinking up at her, Jahrra opened her mouth to make a protest but her friend beat her to it.

“So, what’s with the love triangle?”

Whatever Jahrra was going to say crashed into the back of her throat on its way out.

“What?!” she managed after a long moment.

“You. Dathian. Senton. What’s going on there?”

Torrell didn’t sound angry, she never sounded angry, only curious.

“I haven’t a clue what you’re talking about.”

And that was the truth; Jahrra didn’t. She knew that Senton had been acting strange of late but she never thought it might be what Torrell was suggesting.

Torrell moved her arm and crossed it over the other one, leaning against the door frame and plastering Jahrra with one of her demanding looks.

“You mean you haven’t noticed how Senton has been a little more aware of you these past several weeks, or that Dathian has been the first one to rush to your rescue if you are in trouble?”

Jahrra bristled. “No one has rushed to my rescue! How ridiculous, I haven’t been in any trouble!”

Torrell examined her fingernails. “On the boat, when you almost fell overboard, and now, when that mask frightened you. Dathian was there to make sure you were alright.”

Jahrra opened her mouth to argue, but then paused. Ethöes above, she was right. But it wasn’t what she, or even Senton, thought. Several weeks back, Jaax had made the entire Coalition swear, to Jahrra’s great chagrin, to keep an extra eye on her whenever they were in her company. And Dathian, being the honorable elf that he was, had taken the oath very seriously. He had no romantic interest in her; she knew that for a fact. But if Senton did? And if he was interpreting Dathian’s overly protective actions as Torrell had . . .

Jahrra groaned and covered her face with her hands.

“Uh huh,” Torrell said. “The kindest thing would be to tell which of them you prefer so the other can move on.”

Jahrra shot her eyes up to meet her friend’s. “I don’t prefer either of them!” she hissed. “I mean, yes, I like Dathian and Senton immensely, they are my friends, but not in that way. Please Torrell, you have to believe me. Think about it from my perspective. Dathian’s an elf, and Senton is Resai. And I’m human. Even if that wasn’t the issue there is still the fact that I will be moving on one day, to face down the Crimson King. I don’t have time for, for romance.”

Jahrra felt strange talking about this for she never really had a reason to before now. She had always had more pressing things on her mind.

Torrell merely shrugged. “Maybe I’m wrong, but I doubt it.”

Jahrra groaned again. The last thing she needed was this mess. She didn’t want to lose Dathian’s or Senton’s friendship, but she was afraid that if her friend was correct she might not have a choice.

“Well, let’s just see how it plays out, okay? I don’t want this ruining our Sobledthe holiday,” Torrell said with a pat on Jahrra’s back.

Jahrra merely scowled at her. “Then why bring it up at all?” she mumbled.

Torrell’s dark face cracked in a wide grin. “Because you were completely clueless. At least now you can be prepared if anything does happen, like if Senton starts taking a swing at Dathian. The boy has made vast improvements in his fighting skills but Dathian is still much better than any of us.”

Jahrra grimaced. What a nightmare that would be.

Casting Torrell one more forlorn look, Jahrra stepped out into the bright sunshine to find Dathian and Senton, standing as far apart as possible, waiting for them. She bit her lip and tried to forget about what Torrell had said.

“What took you two so long?” Senton demanded, sounding piqued.

“Oh, you know us women,” Torrell announced, flapping her hand around in a very uncharacteristic manner, “and our joy of shopping. Had to check out the crystals one last time.”

Dathian rolled his eyes behind his glasses and Senton just stared. They strolled back up the street, Jahrra making a point to walk beside Senton with the hope of smoothing his ruffled nerves. It seemed to work because by the time they had reached the stables he was his cheerful, chatty self once again.

“So, tomorrow at noon in the plaza again, don’t be late,” Jahrra said from Phrym’s back.

“We’ll be there,” Dathian promised.

Jahrra tried to ignore the stiffening of Senton’s mouth at Dathian’s remark and the gleam of mischief in Torrell’s eyes. She merely gritted her teeth, bid them all farewell, and turned Phrym in the direction of the stables just below her home.

* * *

The next day dawned clear and bright with the cool promise of a chilly evening later on. Perfect weather for Sobledthe Eve, in Jahrra’s opinion. She ate her breakfast with Neira, since Jaax had left early on some Coalition errand or another, not to return until later that day. An hour before noon, Jahrra picked up her mask, a lovely rusty color with small glass beads and ribbons to add some glamour. She paired it with her dark brown, everyday trousers and one of her nicer tunics, the one that was closest in color to her mask. She decided to leave her hair down for once but grabbed a tie just in case it got in the way. Once dressed, she pulled on her boots, grabbed her simple brown cloak and called a farewell to Neira.

“I hope to see you out enjoying yourself tonight!” she called back as the small door shut behind her.

Jahrra took the path leading down the backside of the hill, only stopping briefly to give Phrym a pat and to show him her mask. After that, she hailed one of the many small coaches that meandered through the city and paid the driver a small fee. Jahrra was the first of her friends to arrive at the University plaza but Torrell, and then Senton, made an appearance. Senton was decked out in silver and grey to match his mask, Torrell in shades of violet. Dathian was last to arrive, looking somewhat formidable dressed all in black. Before too long the four of them had hired another coach and were being briskly swept towards the center of the great city.

“It’s where all the exciting action is,” Senton claimed, his mouth quirked in a grin.

Jahrra was glad to see his mood improved. As they got closer to their destination, the traffic grew more and more congested. Senton cursed under his breath and Dathian informed the driver they would be getting off on the next corner.

Jahrra gave Torrell an inquiring look but her friend just shrugged. “Might as well get out now. There’s a good tea shop a few blocks away and I don’t know about you guys, but I haven’t eaten lunch yet.”

It seemed many people had the same idea about continuing their journey on foot, for all around them hired carriages were pouring out their occupants, many dressed in fine masks and costumes (despite Torrell’s insistence that only children wore such things in Lidien), and were making their way to the heart of the city.

A few blocks later Dathian stood aside and opened the door of a tiny little tea shop tucked away in one of the many nooks of Lidien Jahrra had come to love. Flower boxes sporting late autumn straw flowers and sweet peas adorned the building’s exterior and the worn stone façade was decorated with the colors of Sobledthe. A rickety old sign displayed the establishment’s name and soon the four friends were tucked into a table in the corner of the Cracked Teapot, enjoying salads and sandwiches and piping hot tea.

After lunch the four companions took to wandering, leisurely taking in the sights, sounds and scents of Sobledthe in the city. Jahrra found herself comparing her experience to the celebrations back home in Oescienne and discovered that although the traditions and costumes seemed similar, there was something a little more refined about the harvest festival in a big city.

Carved turnips and gourds with their candle hearts could still be found in front of doorsteps and on fence posts, and there was still the occasional child jumping out to scare his peers. Torrell also informed her that several citizens belonging to an elite society made it their personal goal to create the most realistic costumes of the evil denizens of Sobledthe, specifically to wear them the week of the Harvest Festival in order to add a more realistic touch.

“Nearly scared me out of my pants when I was ten,” Senton admitted with a grin. “I refused to go anywhere at night for weeks.”

Jahrra even saw an advertisement for a scavenger hunt, this one much more complex than the one she had taken part in those handful of years ago. This hunt required a smaller entrance fee but would encompass an area that would take them far out of the city limits, not an idea tempting to Jahrra. Funny, she mused as she read the rules for the hunt, only a few years ago I would be begging Torrell, Dathian and Senton to join me. But she wasn’t quite the same person she had been then and she had learned her lesson after all.

The smell of wood smoke and cider permeated the air and the laughter and screams of excited children and the exaggerated words of the storytellers were all around her, yet it wasn’t quite the same as the festival in Lensterans. Still very enjoyable, but not the same.

“Well, I’ve seen enough for now. Should we go check out the practice arena?” Torrell said with the air of someone who had seen too many Sobledthe celebrations.

“Practice arena?” Jahrra asked, pushing her mask up on her face.

Torrell grinned past the decoration on her own mask. “Didn’t you know? It’s the best part of Sobledthe! In the city’s main arena, not the piddly little one we practice in. They have open sparring matches and archery contests for anyone who wishes to enter. For the right fee, of course.”

Jahrra felt her blood begin to thrum. Forget the scavenger hunt. A sparring and archery competition? Oh, she could take part in that without too much worry of being kidnapped by masked strangers or hunted down by her childhood nemesis.

She grabbed Torrell’s arm and cried, “Which way?” through her mask.

The boys laughed and soon they were weaving their way towards the grand arena.

The stadium itself was about as large as Jahrra would expect and was actually tucked into the side of one of Lidien’s many hills. The stands rose up the hillside and gave the onlookers a panorama of the bay, as well as a view of the action below. The clash of steel and the grunt of men fighting met them before they could see anything. Once they climbed high enough Jahrra felt her knees go weak with awe. At least five separate competition circles were set up, along with an entire section put aside for archers.

“I want to try sword fighting and archery,” she said, the eagerness in her voice impossible to hide.

“Alright, let’s go enter then,” Dathian said, sounding quite enthusiastic himself.

The four of them managed to push through the crowd without causing too many hard feelings and were soon at the massive iron gates that barred entrance into the arena. As they waited in line, Jahrra glanced around in hopes to calm her nerves. Her heart nearly leapt out of her throat when she saw a familiar, looming figure in the distance.

“I’ll be right back!” she shouted to Senton over the din, then pushed her way back through the crowd.

The dragon didn’t notice her until she was right beneath him.

“Hello, Kehllor!” she said, whipping her mask off.

The Tanaan dragon looked confused for just a moment but then his face lit in recognition.

He shed some of his customary tension when he said, “Ah, Miss Jahrra. How are you this Sobledthe Eve?”

“Good,” she answered with a grin. “I’m about to enter the sparring competition. Where are you off to?”

His scaly brow rose at that and Jahrra got the impression she had his full attention now.

“Are you? I was on my way to a party at Shiroxx’s residence, but it’s supposed to last all night and she only required that her guests make an appearance . . .” His voice trailed off as he seemed to be struggling against something.

“Oh, do stick around and watch the competition. I mean, not that I expect to win or anything, but afterwards you’re more than welcome to join my friends and I for a while.” She took a breath, “But I don’t want to keep you too long from Shiroxx. I’ve met her before. I know how, um, insistent she can be.”

Kehllor seemed to bristle at that and his jaw firmed, but Jahrra didn’t think it was because of her. “Yes, I think I’ll stick around and join you after the festivities. Thank you.”

He gave a slight bow of his head and found a relatively open place to watch from where he wouldn’t block anyone else’s view.

Jahrra beamed; thrilled she had managed to break the ice with this young dragon. She made her way back to where her friends had moved up in line. Torrell and Senton gave her a curious glance and she shrugged saying she would explain later. Dathian, on the other hand, gave her a more questioning look. Since he was standing closer to her she was able to whisper, “I just invited Kehllor to join us after we’re done here.”

The elf lifted a dark brow and looked up to find Kehllor sitting near the base of the stadium seats. He gave a slight bow, and Jahrra could only guess the dragon returned it.

“Making progress on your scheme I take it?” he asked, quietly enough that Senton and Torrell didn’t hear.

Jahrra shrugged again. After her blotchy introduction to the golden dragon those weeks ago, she had informed Dathian of her plans to extricate him from Shiroxx’s talons.

He had snorted and shaken his head, “Oh, I don’t doubt that is exactly the situation, but that seems like a lost cause there. Shiroxx, once she catches hold of something or sets her mind to having things a certain way, it’s nearly impossible to interfere.”

Jahrra had screwed up her face and felt her blood rush with the promise of a challenge. That settled it. If Dathian was so sure the red Tanaan always got what she desired and no one ever stood in her way, then Jahrra was going to be the one to do it. And furthermore, she was going to help someone in the process. After several arguments with the elf, she’d finally convinced Dathian to help her in her endeavors, but only from the sidelines and only by offering a cheer of encouragement from time to time.

“I have no desire to get on Shiroxx’s bad side and I highly recommend you stay out of her sights as well. Rumor has it she’s already taken a disliking to you. You don’t want to anger her Jahrra, believe me.”

She had wanted to ask what Dathian had meant by that, but some outside force had put an end to their conversation. Jahrra let it slide, remembering to be grateful for any support Dathian was willing to offer.

“Jahrra! The judges need your name and entrance fee,” Torrell hissed.

Jahrra blinked in surprise, momentarily having forgotten where she was. “Oh, right.”

She paid the fee and all four of them took up an opponent in one of the several rings. Jahrra let her thoughts of Shiroxx and Kehllor drop away as the thrill of the fight took over. The Resai man she was paired up against was taller and older than her and his skills were well honed. He managed to cut her arm with his sword before she returned the favor, dispatching his weapon with a flourish. The fight lasted no more than ten minutes but Jahrra was out of breath from the effort. She shook hands with her opponent and they moved on to the next challenger. The crowd was roaring and cheering and chanting the names of those they knew.

Jahrra took on four more challengers, all ranging in age and size. Out of the corner of her eye she could see that Torrell grunted with effort as she fought against a man twice her size with skin even darker than her own. Jahrra wondered if she would be able to defeat him. He was very quick and seemed to have a few tricks up his sleeve. Dathian was easily dodging the attempts of his challenger and Jahrra was sure he was drawing the battle out in order to keep the poor man’s pride intact. Senton, to Jahrra’s great delight, seemed to be holding out rather well against a pretty girl with dark red hair.

Finally, Jahrra moved on to the archery portion of the competition in which she managed to defeat all but five people, one of them being the girl who had been paired up against Senton. An hour after entering the competition, the four friends wandered back to the entrance gate to collect their winnings. Dathian, not surprisingly, won the most. He pocketed the gold coins with a grin.

As they staggered back to the stadium, the red haired girl brushed past them, glancing over her shoulder and giving Senton a demure smile. Senton, to Jahrra’s astonishment, actually blushed.

“Who’s that?” Torrell asked, crossing her arms and moving very close to Senton.

“Um, Lohra,” he said, ruffling his hair as if to remove dirt, “she was my last sparring partner, during the swordsmanship portion of the challenge.”

Torrell gave Jahrra a wicked look and Jahrra had to hide a laugh.

“Looks like she wants to do more than spar,” Torrell drawled.

That time Jahrra couldn’t hide her laugh and even Dathian chuckled and clapped Senton on the back. He seemed rather flustered but grinned sheepishly, regardless.

Jahrra took advantage of the situation and said, “She’s a really good archer. Does she go to the University?”

Senton simply nodded.

“Well, why don’t you go find her and ask her to practice with us?!” she cried, smacking him on the shoulder.

Blinking in surprise, Senton looked at each of his friends in turn. Torrell shrugged, “Wouldn’t hurt to have one more girl hanging around.”

Dathian gave one of his characteristic bows, “As long as she doesn’t distract you into losing your head.”

Grumbling, but hiding a tiny grin, Senton chased after the redhead.

“I think your romantic woes are over Jahrra,” Torrell mumbled to her as they moved on.

Jahrra nodded and took a deep breath. She hoped Torrell was correct.

“So, where to next?” Torrell wondered as they waited for Senton.

“Actually,” Jahrra said after clearing her throat, “I have someone to introduce you to.”

Torrell looked utterly surprised and even more so when Jahrra presented her and Dathian to Kehllor.

“Torrell, Dathian,” she said, looking between the two and the Tanaan dragon, “this is Kehllor. He’s a member of the Coalition with me. When I saw him tonight I thought it would be a good idea to ask him to come along with us since he’s here alone. Kehllor,” she paused, “these are my friends Torrell and Dathian.”

They both acknowledged the dragon and Dathian, ever worried about his true identity, pretended to never have seen him before. Senton returned a few moments later, out of breath and wearing a big grin on his face.

“She said she’d love to join us . . .”

His grin faded when he spotted the dragon. Jahrra jumped in immediately, “Senton, this is Kehllor. He’ll be joining us for a few hours before we head back home. He’s a friend from the Coalition.”

“Oh, hello, nice to meet you,” Senton said.

Jahrra had been watching Kehllor, not missing his flinch of surprise when she had introduced him as a friend. She grinned inwardly but then felt a pang of pity splice through her. Did he not have any friends? She knew what that felt like. She gave Dathian a knowing look but the elf very successfully hid his feelings on the matter. She would have to discuss this with him later. For now, she took a deep breath and said, “So, where to now?”

She was surprised when Kehllor spoke up, “I know of a good place to view the midnight ceremonies where we won’t have to deal with the crowds.”

“Excellent,” Torrell said, rubbing her hands together. “I say we go fetch some hot cider and something to eat first though, I’m famished.”

They threaded their way back through the pressing mass of people. The night was growing late and the smells of rich food and pungent beverages mixed with the scents of sweat, dust and horses bombarded their noses. It wasn’t too unpleasant but Jahrra was sure it would start to bother her after a while. They stopped by the nearest vending stand and bought hot cider, warm fruit cakes and skewers of roasted meat, then Kehllor led them to the edge of the city and began climbing a narrow path up the side of a sparsely populated hill.

They climbed for a good fifteen minutes, passing by revelers up to mischief and pranks within the shadows of the tall trees. They were even surprised by one of the people dressed in a very convincing goblin costume.

“See!” Senton hissed, holding his hand over his heart, “I’m going to have nightmares now!”

The goblin didn’t stick around to torment them, however, and Jahrra gave Kehllor the credit for that. Who would want to risk the ire of a dragon?

Finally, once they were higher than the tallest buildings, Kehllor led them out onto a flat open ledge on the hillside. From there they could look directly down into the city’s heart, where people had started gathering massive pieces of wood for the traditional bonfire. The dancers and participants, dressed in the vivid and ornate costumes of the season, were frolicking around the circular fire pit, drawing the men and women of Lidien ever closer for the big finale.

Torrell and Senton chose to sit on a flat rock where they could dangle their legs and Dathian, sensing that Jahrra would want to pick Kehllor’s brain, leaned against a tree on the edge of their small meadow. Kehllor made himself comfortable, lying down and tucking in his feet beneath him the way Jahrra had often seen Jaax sit.

“Thank you for bringing us here,” she said as she moved closer to the dragon.

Kehllor blinked and looked down at her. Was that a smile on his face?

“Of course,” he said, indicating Jahrra should sit down next to him.

Not wanting the invitation to grow cold, she hurriedly found a comfortable patch of earth, close enough to talk with him but not too close that either of them would be uncomfortable. She drew her knees up to her chest and flung her mask over her shoulder. Her muscles felt a bit fatigued from the sparring contest but she ignored their achy complaints.

“So, Kehllor, how did you come to be part of the Coalition?”

She knew it might be a sensitive question, as bland as it was, but she really did want to know. To her great surprise and delight, Kehllor opened up like a fountain having been clogged for far too long.

“Shiroxx found me when I was younger than I am now, wandering around the abandoned wilds of Soahna. I don’t remember much before that,” he shrugged and gave a pained grin, looking down at Jahrra with a dark blue gaze, “I must have been injured. I have the scar to prove it, but the injury must have also caused me to lose most of my memory.”

He paused, as if he had never meant to say any of this and had forgotten to keep the secrets to himself. Jahrra didn’t dare breathe or say a word and she was highly tempted to shush the people far below them, making all that ruckus as they started to light the great fire. Fortunately, Torrell, Senton and Dathian were remaining rather silent, enraptured by the activity in the city far below them.

Finally, Kehllor spoke again, “Sometimes I have terrible dreams, dreams of suffering and dragons screaming. They are familiar to me, but unknown.” He hissed in a breath of exaggeration. “I’m sorry,” he finally said, sounding gruff as he cast Jahrra a pitiful glance, “you don’t want to hear any of this.”

Jahrra surprised herself by reaching out a hand and touching his shoulder, closer to the ground than Jaax’s usually was.

“No, it’s okay. I know what you mean. I have dreams like that too. It’s like someone is trying to tell me something and the only way they can get my attention is through the nightmares.”

Kehllor blinked and nodded. “That’s exactly what it feels like.”

Jahrra smiled and took a steadying breath, trying to calm the erratic beat of her heart. Its rhythm had been relatively steady until he had mentioned the dreams, so very similar to her own.

He looked away and spoke again, “I owe my recovery to Shiroxx. If it wasn’t for her, I would still be lost in the dry deserts of Soahna, confused and angry, if not dead.”

He ground his teeth together, fighting his past or his guilt at feeling resentful towards Shiroxx. Jahrra understood that. He felt indebted to the female dragon and if he did resent her, as Jahrra suspected, then he would feel guilty.

“If it makes you feel any better,” she braved, “I sometimes feel the same kind of attachment towards Jaax.”

It was not quite a lie. She didn’t resent Jaax, not anymore, but she did at first. Not necessarily for taking control of her life and insisting on being her protector but more for his omission of the truth for so many years of her life. If he had told her who she was earlier, and hadn’t thrown it on her just after Hroombra’s death, perhaps it would have been easier. She shook her head. No, she would not hold it against Jaax; he was trying his best and had done everything as honorably as he could. But it wouldn’t hurt to let Kehllor think that, just a little bit, he had someone who understood him. And, at least in regards to having a troubled past, she could relate.

Kehllor looked down at her, his eyes full of questions.

“I would think it would take a lot of courage to resent the dragon Raejaaxorix.”

That was not what she’d expected to hear and she couldn’t help snorting in laughter.

When she was slightly recovered, she said, “That is very true now that I think about it. But look at it from my perspective; I’ve known him, more or less, since I was a very young child. I know no other way to respond to him.” She shrugged, “He’s not nearly so frightening, once you get to know him.”

“He’s an excellent leader,” Kehllor murmured.

Jahrra felt a thrill of pride course through her at the obvious respect in Kehllor’s voice. Suddenly, she liked him all the better for it. He may be inconveniently and uncomfortably attached to Shiroxx but he had a mind of his own, that was for sure.

“He would be glad to hear that,” Jahrra said, “but I think he would like to hear it directly from you.”

He sighed. “Perhaps someday, when I feel it is my place to approach him.”

Jahrra would have argued with him about that, telling him that Jaax would never turn him away if he wished to speak with him, but she thought she had said enough for now.

“I can tell you will be an asset to the Coalition, Kehllor,” she said instead, “and I’m glad I got up the gumption to introduce myself to you, even if it meant flying out of the meeting hall to chase you down in the plaza.”

She gave a wide grin and Kehllor returned it.

“Ah,” he said, his voice sounding lighter than before, “they are coming to the end of the ceremony. Shall we join your friends to get a closer look?”

Jahrra nodded and went to stand beside Dathian, Senton and Torrell, with Kehllor just behind, as they watched the revelers throw the herbs and required items onto the bonfire. Once the ceremony was complete, and the citizens of Lidien began their journeys home to finish off the festival in the privacy of their own dwellings, Jahrra and her friends climbed back down the hill. They bid farewell to Kehllor, who wandered off in the opposite direction, seeking Shiroxx’s home no doubt, and then they set about finding a carriage to carry them back to the house on the hill.

* * *

Kehllor paused after leaving Jahrra and her friends, but they were too busy hunting down a cart to take notice of his hesitation. He glanced over his shoulder, narrowing his eyes at Jahrra as she settled herself in the coach her friend had managed to hire, then sighed, making a decision that had been slipping from his conscience’s grasp for the past several weeks now.

He hadn’t just been wandering Lidien to enjoy the Sobledthe festivities, and he wasn’t just going to Shiroxx’s house for a party. No, she had sent him out to spy. To find Jahrra and to get to know her so that he may report back to the dragoness with all the little details.

Shiroxx had been delighted when Kehllor told her about Jahrra’s forced introduction outside of Emehriel Hall. To the female dragon it had been a gift dropped at her feet.

“Excellent!” she had said, her brown eyes gleaming with malice, “this is a superb opportunity. Do accept her eager friendship Kehllor, I so wish to know her thoughts and desires.”

Kehllor had been thoroughly disgusted at the time but quickly pushed that feeling away. He owed Shiroxx everything. A little bit of harmless spying couldn’t hurt. Besides, Jahrra was a young woman, what kinds of horrifying secrets might she have that could later bring her harm? None, he had told himself. He didn’t want to think about why Shiroxx would want to know so much about the human girl, but he had agreed in the end.

And tonight, Jahrra had fallen at his feet once again. It was the perfect chance to delve into her thoughts. But instead of getting her to open up, he had done so instead. She had been so kind, so willing to be his friend, that he forgot his pledge to Shiroxx. And he wouldn’t think of it again. Yes, he would remain loyal to her but he would not be her spy, especially if it meant harming Jahrra in any way. He would just have to lie about ever seeing her, or make up some frivolous things to tell Shiroxx.

Taking a deep breath, he turned back around and continued his journey towards the red dragon’s residence, formulating what he would say when she asked him if he had succeeded in his task.

* * *

It was only an hour after midnight when Jahrra and her companions finally made it back to the estate on the hill. Jaax opened the door for them when they knocked, for Neira was still out enjoying the night. He looked tired again and Jahrra was about to tell him he needn’t stay up with them when he smiled and said, “I hope you don’t mind me joining you in front of the fire to finish off this Sobledthe celebration.”

Dathian and Senton smiled, Torrell looked as if she had forgotten how to speak. Jahrra elbowed her and shook her head in feigned disgust.

“Don’t worry Torrell,” Jaax said as he blew a torrent of emerald and blue flames over the wood piled in the large fireplace, “I won’t eat you.”

Senton gasped in delight as the flames licked the wood, turning every shade of the rainbow as they ate up the magical herbs Jaax had sprinkled over them earlier that night.

Torrell actually flushed at the dragon’s words and as they settled, she made sure to sit in the couch furthest from his corner of the room. Jahrra sat in the chair closest to her guardian with Dathian and Senton sharing the largest sofa in the middle of the room.

For a long while they merely watched the fire. Eventually, Senton cleared his throat and asked Jaax a few questions, some about being the leader of the Coalition, some the typical questions dragons received from those not of their kind. Jahrra watched Torrell, listening intently as she pretended to glance around the shadowy room.

Neira came stumbling in some minutes later, blushing profusely and making to scurry up the stairs to her room so that she would not disturb anyone.

“Nonsense,” Jaax said, “you will join us until sunrise. Why shouldn’t you?”

The housemaid gave a shaky curtsy and pushed her loose hair out of her face. It was then that Jahrra noticed she was wearing it partly down and had on a nice dress, nothing like her work attire. So, Jahrra thought with a grin, Neira was out with her own friends enjoying a night off as well.

“Very well then, but at least let me bring out the sweet fruit cake I baked this morning and the apple cider made from Jahrra’s apples.”

She disappeared through the small door leading to the kitchen and Jahrra rose to help her, leaving her friends in Jaax’s company.

By the time she and Neira returned, she was pleased to see that Torrell had finally gotten over her fright or awe of her guardian and was having an in-depth discussion with him and Dathian as Senton rushed over to help carry trays of food.

After they had managed to polish off the last of the small sandwiches and crackers, the six of them merely lounged in the glow of the fire, nibbling on Neira’s fruit cake as exhaustion from the long night took over.

At dawn, a carriage arrived to return Senton, Dathian and Torrell to their respective homes, and Jahrra, Jaax and Neira sought their own beds. As she drifted off to sleep, Jahrra replayed the night in her mind: Senton’s new interest in a girl other than herself, Kehllor’s opening up about his past, and Jaax’s polite and genial conversation with her friends.

All in all, a rather excellent night in Jahrra’s opinion. But something was keeping her from fully relaxing and she couldn’t quite put her thumb on it. She knew it had something to do with Kehllor and what he had told her, some inkling of a suspicion or a secret Jahrra had locked away somewhere. Unfortunately, her brain was too weary to drag it up.

I’ll think about it later, she told herself, when I have the time to. Finally, her mind settled and she fell fast asleep as the first rays of morning poured through her window.

-Chapter Fourteen-

The Spirit Stone

The excitement and atmosphere of Sobledthe gradually fizzled away as the start of the dark half of the year settled in. Jahrra felt the encroachment of the winter season more and more as each day passed. Classes were winding down as well because, just before their Solsticetide break, they would be taking exams and then signing up for new classes for the spring term.

Jahrra wasn’t as stressed about her University exams as she had been for the ones in Oescienne. She thought maybe it was because the classes at the University were more enjoyable and therefore the finals didn’t seem so daunting. That and the fact that Lidien had, over the past several months, given her a great sense of safety and belonging. It wasn’t that she hadn’t felt safe with Hroombra, but she seemed to have less on her mind now, as if somehow learning she was human had answered so many riddles that had distracted her before.

Jahrra took a deep breath and looked up from her journal. She was sitting at the stone table on her rooftop patio,

enjoying the warm morning sun while she could. She examined her apple trees as she did so, their fruit having been completely collected and preserved; turned into cakes and pastries days ago by an ambitious Neira. The leaves that still remained on their nearly naked boughs were lemon yellow and Jahrra couldn’t help but reflect on the time that had passed. It couldn’t have been only six months ago that she and Jaax had stumbled off of that barge to start this new life in Lidien, but the change of the seasons around her didn’t lie.

Blinking against the sun, Jahrra got back to what she had been writing in her journal. She never really kept any of her daily thoughts in there; it was mostly for the things that she saw and sketched and wrote descriptions for. But every now and again, through the years, she had been compelled to write certain things down that had nothing to do with the bird or plant she had seen while walking through the woods.

She skimmed over the advice Denaeh had given her on several occasions, smiling at the memory of the Mystic and wondering if she was still cultivating mushrooms in the Black Swamp. She glanced over the runes she had recorded from Ehnnit Canyon and the few words she had copied from the pirate’s journal she and her friends had found in the Ninth Cove. At the present, however, she was jotting down what had happened the weekend before, about what Kehllor had told her about his troubled dreams and how it seemed familiar to her, like a famous quote out of a fairytale; familiar but lost in the depths of her memories.

Jahrra chewed the end of her quill, furrowing her brow and trying hard to come up with a reason for her overabundant curiosity. She didn’t have much time to contemplate the matter much further however, for Neira was calling up to her that breakfast was ready. Jahrra slammed her journal shut and scooped up her extra blanket. She hurried downstairs once both blanket and book were safely stored back in her room.

“What time are you expecting your friend?” Neira asked as she poured fresh milk into a cup and set it on the kitchen counter next to a plate of warm biscuits and eggs.

Jahrra took a seat on one of the tall stools and yawned. She threw her braid over her shoulder and stabbed at her breakfast with a fork. “In half an hour or so,” she answered around a mouthful of eggs.

Neira gave one of her motherly looks and tsked. “Best be hurrying with your breakfast then.”

Jahrra smiled and finished within ten minutes. She piled the dishes into the big stone sink and dashed back upstairs. She pulled on her most comfortable pants and an old tunic, ran a brush through her hair after unbraiding it, and tied it up with a leather strap. Double checking that her door was closed, she pulled out the top drawer in her dresser and reached for the stone in the wall behind it. Wiggling it loose with little effort, she poked her fingers into the space left behind and smiled when they brushed against the large velvet pouch she had hidden there. She pulled it out and brought it over to her bed then replaced the brick and drawer.

The pouch was dusty, but Jahrra didn’t mind. Carefully, she opened it and poured its contents out, counting the coins up in her mind. All of her winnings from the practices in which she took on challengers, including the sizeable sum from the Harvest Festival. It was more money than Jahrra had ever seen in her life. Enough to get Torrell, Senton, Dathian, Neira and Jaax a Solsticetide gift each. A thrill of joy shot through her as she carefully put the money back. For once in her life she would be able to afford something nice for her friends.

The sound of a carriage coming up the drive forced her to her feet and once again she was tearing down the stairs, shouting a goodbye to Neira and Jaax as she flew out the door. Torrell stood up in the coach when she spotted her friend and grinned.

“Nothing like a day of shopping,” her friend remarked. “Just us girls; no boys to ruin things.”

Jahrra laughed and climbed up into the carriage and before long they were on their way. As they traveled, Jahrra tried to think what she would get for each of her friends. Neira, she knew, would appreciate a new bonnet to go with the lovely dress she had been wearing on Sobledthe Eve night. Senton was getting a dagger, Jahrra decided. Nothing too fancy, but he would much appreciate the gesture, especially since he had been doing so well with his training. Dathian . . . maybe she could find something imported from Dhonoara for the elvin prince. Torrell might like a pair of earrings or a bracelet. Jaax . . . now Jaax would be the hardest of all to shop for. Not only did she not have any idea what the Tanaan dragon might like she was worried about his reaction the most. He had always been so good about managing to get gifts for her and she hadn’t the faintest clue as to what to get him.

Jahrra cast her eyes around, hoping the answer would appear out of thin air right in front of her. After several minutes of scanning the passing scenery, she gave up. She cast a defeated glance at her friend and found herself distracted by Torrell’s necklace. She had seen it on her several times before but it was usually hidden beneath the collar of her shirt. Frustrated with her inability to think of a proper gift for her guardian, Jahrra decided to inquire after the necklace.

“Torrell, what type of stone is in your pendant?” she asked.

Torrell blinked and drew her chin in close as she pulled the delicate chain away from her neck. The tear drop gem slid and glinted in the sun. It was the most unique color; red and orange and gold, nothing like Jahrra had ever seen.

“This? It’s a spirit stone. Have you never seen one before?”

Jahrra shook her head.

Torrell grinned. “Ah, they must not have these in Oescienne then.”

Jahrra shot her a slightly harassed look and Torrell just laughed. “The elves make these, since they are the only ones with the magic to do so. They are stones created from a piece of a loved one.”

Jahrra’s eyes went wide and she flinched back. “What do you mean, a piece of a loved one?” That sounded quite morbid to her.

“No, nothing like that,” Torrell waved her hand, “though some people have stones made from a bit of their own blood. Usually people use hair, or fingernails. Others just spit into the cauldron, which in my opinion, is rather disgusting.”

She shivered and let the spirit stone drop back in place.

Jahrra blinked, her curiosity growing. “Well, what is the purpose of these spirit stones?”

Torrell grinned and folded her hands over her crossed knees. “To keep a friend or family member close.”

Jahrra furrowed her brow.

Seeing her friend’s confusion, the other girl grinned and said, “This stone was made from a drop of Renaya’s blood. She thought when I went away to University that she wouldn’t see me every day and wanted me to have a part of her with me.”

Torrell held the stone up again and looked at it lovingly. “Every stone is unique, made up of its own colors that represent the spirit of the person it came from. I’m also told that the colors and their intensity are supposed to represent how the person is feeling at the moment the stone is created, but that’s just a theory.”

Torrell shrugged.

Suddenly, Jahrra’s face lit up with thought.

“What is it? You look as if you just discovered the secret to being a successful alchemist.” Torrell sat back and eyed Jahrra carefully.

“No,” Jahrra waved her hand nonchalantly, “I’ve been wracking my brain on what I should get Jaax for Solsticetide. He always manages to get me something really good and I haven’t been able to think of a single thing.”

Jahrra thought about the dragon’s gifts over the years. Once he had given her one of his scales, laced on a chain. Another time he had sent her a very nice saddle for Phrym. It was time she returned the favor.

“That sounds like a rather daunting task. Your guardian doesn’t seem the type that’s easy to find a gift for.”

Jahrra nodded grimly. She just assumed it was a sign that perhaps she didn’t know him as well as she thought but now she felt a little better. A spirit stone would be perfect. After all, she had a piece of him hanging around her neck, why shouldn’t he have a piece of her, well, a piece of her essence?

Grinning, Jahrra pulled the stony scale out from beneath her shirt. She never took it off, not since leaving Oescienne. She knew it was silly, but she felt it stood as a reminder that no matter how domineering Jaax may be on occasion, she could still stand up to him.

Torrell shifted forward as their carriage turned a corner, bringing Jahrra’s attention back to the present.

“What’s that?” Now it was her turn to be curious.

Jahrra smiled and thrust the glittering scale forward. “This is my charm. A scale from Jaax’s toe. I managed to break it off when I was eleven.”

Torrell’s eyes widened. “Are you serious? How did you manage that?”

Although Torrell had finally managed to speak with Jaax the last time she was over it was still a far cry from being openly friendly with him.

Jahrra laughed, “It was his own fault. He didn’t visit me often as a child, but one time when he paid us a visit he insisted on testing my fighting skills. Of course, I’d had no training whatsoever, but he demanded that I spar with him anyway. The fact that I managed to remove this scale was a marvel.”

Torrell sat there, gaping, but after a few moments she shook away her disbelief and said, “You never told us that story!”

At first she looked a little perturbed, but after a moment she leaned forward again. “May I get a closer look?”

Jahrra nodded and leaned forward, pulling the necklace away from her neck once again.

Torrell narrowed her eyes and looked closely at it. “I never realized how beautiful dragons’ scales were,” she said quietly.

Jahrra nodded. “Like polished granite, with many different flecks of color.”

Torrell swallowed and sighed. “I think this might be much better than a spirit stone. Anyone can get a spirit stone made, but acquiring a dragon’s scale?” she shook her head.

Leaning back against her seat, Jahrra smiled and said, “Well, since I already have a dragon scale I would like to get a spirit stone. Do you know where they make them?”

“You’re lucky you’re in Lidien. I know of one shop where you can get one made but it could be expensive, depending on what type of metal you get it set in.”

Jahrra swallowed. She had a small fortune resting at the bottom of her bag at that very moment. But would it be enough to purchase a spirit stone worthy of a dragon?

“I might have enough saved from my winnings,” she admitted eventually, grinning insecurely at Torrell.

“Huh,” Torrell answered, crossing her arms in mock annoyance, “I think you just might.”

“So, where’s this shop of yours?”

Torrell flashed her best grin and turned to give the driver directions.

For the remainder of the day the two young women wended their way through the city, taking their time as they searched out the shop that crafted and sold spirit stones. As they walked or rode in one of the many carts for hire, Jahrra thought about what she would use to create the stone. Torrell had explained the process as best she could but Jahrra was still unclear on how the stone was actually formed. The elves who created the stones did so by combining certain ingredients and heating them in a cauldron, using a specific amount of magic to aid them. Whatever part of a person that was to be crafted into the spirit stone would be added only when directed by the one mixing the potion and adding the ingredients.

Jahrra asked Torrell that if a bigger piece of a person should be thrown in, would it result in a bigger stone. Torrell told her no but oftentimes warriors would come home from battles after losing an appendage and would hang on to it to create a spirit stone from it for their families and loved ones. The thought of someone throwing a finger or an arm into the magic cauldron, especially after keeping it on their person for who knew how long, made Jahrra shiver in disgust. Yet, it seemed a good way to do away with such an important part of oneself.

“I don’t think I could spit in the cauldron,” Jahrra mused as they walked past the University buildings, now relatively quiet for the weekend, “it seems more of an insult than a charm.”

Torrell nodded. “The stones created in that manner cost the least, so they are the most popular.” The dark haired girl grinned and crinkled her nose, “Though they don’t turn out as pretty.”

“What about a fingernail?” Jahrra queried, holding her hands out before her.

Torrell shook her head as she stepped around a group of street performers. “Not your best feature.”

Jahrra screwed up her mouth. She was right about that. She tended to keep her fingernails short; made it easier to wield a sword and a bow.

“Well, what would you suggest?”

Torrell stopped on the walkway that ran parallel to the busy street. She looked Jahrra up and down, “Your hair.”

Jahrra pulled her braid over her shoulder and studied the tufted end. She shrugged, “It would be the easiest and least painful.”

“And not the most expensive, but prettier than spit,” Torrell said with a wink. “But blood is the best to use.”

Jahrra lifted a brow in question.

Torrell took a breath. “The stone crafters say blood makes the spirit stones that are richest in color and with the highest level of hardness. It is also thought that, because you use blood and blood comes from the heart, they contain the most spirit of the person the blood was taken from.”

Torrell shrugged and Jahrra digested what she’d told her. Grimacing, she lifted her hand and looked at it.

“How much blood do they take, and how do they get it?”

Torrell barked out a laugh. “Don’t look so terrified! They only prick your finger and take a drop or two, honestly. You should see your face!”

Jahrra crinkled her nose, disgruntled at her friend’s humor.

“I can handle that,” she said at last, then grinned and proclaimed, “my blood it is!”

Torrell returned the grin and they continued on down the road.

They passed a few more tall buildings and then Torrell led them down a wide alley that served more as a street for the tiny shops on either side. It was a bit darker than the main road, but it was quieter too.

“Most of the shops down here deal in magical merchandise,” Torrell said. “Those with the gift of magic prefer a quieter place to work so any time you go out seeking magic, you’ll find it in the quietest alleys and corners of the city.”

Jahrra nodded, grateful to her friend and her seemingly unending wealth of knowledge about Lidien. A crooked signpost on the corner of the sidewalk showed the name of the narrow lane: Tynne Alley. Strange smells, though not all of them unpleasant, tickled Jahrra’s nose as they moved deeper into the space between the buildings. A few of the shops had animal guardians stretched out before the stoop or perching upon a specially crafted branch.

Jahrra gawked in awe, recognizing many of the creatures Hroombra had taught her about as a child. In front of a shop with a sign that read Elixirs for the Unusual Malady, a jehranín stretched out upon a rough mat, its belly upturned as it wiggled to scratch its back, purring in a strange cadence that was similar to birdsong. A few doors down at a shop that supplied herbs, a cape bird sat quietly dozing on a twisted branch protruding from a stand. Jahrra didn’t see it at first, for it had taken on the colors of the window display right behind it. A quick twitch and the fluid motion of its leg whipping out to scratch at an itch near its eye was what gave it away.

“Come on, stop lollygagging! We want to get there before all the other shoppers do,” Torrell hissed as she grabbed Jahrra’s arm and yanked her bedazzled friend away.

“Did you see the cape bird?” she whispered, pointing back over her shoulder.

Torrell rolled her eyes and said, “Yeah, those are more common than dogs in Lidien now. Someone managed to catch a few and thought it would be a great idea to start marketing quills made from their feathers.”

Jahrra blinked. “You make that sound like a bad thing.”

Torrell glanced back as they moved further away from the bird that had flown to the ground, pecking for crumbs, its feathers now the hue and pattern of the cobblestones.

She took a breath and said dryly, “It is a bad thing. People could never find their pens.”

Jahrra raised her eyebrows in understanding. She imagined it would be fun to watch her quill take on the color of whatever it touched, but having to search for it every time she needed it would be counter-productive.

A flash of light and a puff of yellow smoke burst from a door on the left but the girls were able to sidestep the customers who fled from the building, coughing and gagging.

“That can’t be good for business,” Torrell muttered as she waved the acrid smoke away.

Jahrra blinked the sting from her eyes and they moved on. A few more shops, these ones selling books and charms, greeted them on their way but finally Torrell stopped and sighed, “Here we are!”

Jahrra looked up at the sign hanging above the large door: Tynne Alley Jewelers – Creators of the Highest Quality Spirit Stones in Lidien.

The store was much bigger than the others they had passed and all manner of gems and stones glinted from the shelves just inside the window. Jahrra peered further down the alley and noticed that this store stood on the corner of the building. The street just beyond was much narrower than the main road they left several shops back and boasted a small park across the way.

“This is it,” Torrell said as she reached for the handle of the rather round door. “It isn’t as big as the jeweler’s shop near the center of town but I think this shop produces better stones. And they won’t charge you an arm and a leg either.”

She grimaced at the unintended pun and motioned Jahrra to step forward into the cheery room in front of her.

The interior of the small corner store was larger than she expected and brighter as well, with stone floors and counters. A bell jangled as they crossed the threshold and a strange mewling sound drew Jahrra’s attention to the far corner of the room. A mynex lay curled up on a mat, its long, thick-furred tail wrapped around its cream-colored body. A pair of deep green eyes stared back at them from its squat, cat-like face.

Jahrra admired the creature as Torrell commented, “Acts as a guard dog, in case the owner is away from the front desk.”

Jahrra nodded her understanding just as a curtain placed in the back of the room parted and someone stepped forward. The young woman, young elf, approached them gracefully with an abstemious look on her face. Her hair was nearly the color of corn silk and she wore well-tailored robes that were clearly meant only to be worn at the work place. As she drew nearer, her serious look softened as she scrutinized Jahrra and Torrell with pale grey eyes.

“May I help you ladies?” Her voice was kind and Jahrra felt herself relax a bit. She tilted her head ever so slightly and a scarred patch of skin at the base of her neck became exposed.

“I- I wanted,” Jahrra began, trying not to be distracted by the scar. It looked like it had been caused by fire.

Torrell took over, using her no-nonsense tone of voice, “My friend here would like to purchase a spirit stone.”

“Ahhh,” the elvin woman said, smiling a little, “we are best known for our spirit stones. If you would follow me?”

The elf gestured as she moved through another curtain. Jahrra nodded, letting out a held breath as she and Torrell left the airiness of the shop’s main room. A strange smell and a darker atmosphere met them on the other side of the curtain and Jahrra nearly panicked, but Torrell was a solid, un-worried source of support behind her. Jahrra bit her lip, wondering how her friend never seemed to get shaken by anything, save for Jaax. In the center of the room there sat a large cauldron, the small fire below it nothing compared to the green glow leaking from its contents.

“I shall fetch mother and father, they are the experts. Please, don’t touch anything until I return.” The elvin girl gave a short bow and left the way she came.

“Kind of spooky, isn’t it?” Torrell teased as she crossed her arms.

Jahrra nodded, but she wasn’t sure if Torrell noticed in the dark.

“So, how exactly is this done again?” Jahrra asked to pass the time.

Torrell heaved a sigh and answered, “They take whatever it is you give them that you want turned into the stone, then they say a few enspelled words, add a few ingredients for binding then wait about an hour. After that, they set the stone in whatever material you want. It usually doesn’t take that long because they use magic.”

Jahrra nodded again, her eyes fixated on the swirling green liquid in the cauldron. A minute later, the curtain parted and the girl was back bringing who Jahrra could only assume were her parents.

“We hear you would like to commission a spirit stone. Would you like to hear about your options and settle on a comfortable price before we begin?”

Jahrra felt her shoulders sag in relief. Perhaps they had a special deal on spirit stones at the moment; she had a feeling that whatever she wished to create for Jaax would be expensive. The cost of a gold chain for a pendant that would be large enough to fit a dragon was painful even to think about.

“Well,” Jahrra began, “the stone will be for a dragon. I’m not sure if that makes a difference.”

The elvin woman in the darker robes smiled. “As long as you aren’t looking for something exceedingly large, then it shouldn’t. We’ve had several customers commission spirit stones for their dragon friends, and the most common form of jewelry they chose were rings.”

Jahrra’s eyebrows shot up. A ring wouldn’t be too bad. It would probably take the least amount of silver or gold to create and it wouldn’t be as cumbersome as a chain around the neck, or as ostentatious. She recalled Jaax’s attitude towards the chain and blood rose pendant he had to wear for Coalition meetings. But a ring, and perhaps one not overly ornate; that she could picture him wearing. She had seen rings on other dragons, anything from elaborately carved gold to simple circles encrusted with tiny stones. That particular piece of jewelry looked good on the reptilian creatures. Jahrra just hoped Jaax would like the ring she picked out. She swallowed hard, feeling suddenly nervous.

She shook her head and tried to dislodge the uneasy feeling. “I think a ring is exactly what I’m looking for.”

The woman smiled. “An excellent choice. I will go fetch some samples for you to look at while my husband here explains pricing and such.”

The woman left, taking her daughter with her. Jahrra and Torrell were left with the elvin man. “Now, do you know about the process of creating a spirit stone?” he asked, his voice kind and patient.

Jahrra nodded. “I know a little of it, my friend told me.”

She gestured towards Torrell and the girl smiled, pulling out her own spirit stone. “My sister and mother visited a year ago and had this made for me.”

The elf leaned forward, his pale hair falling over his shoulder as he tried to get a good look at the stone in the dim light. Eventually, his brows arched and he smiled. “Ahhh, yes, I remember this stone! A woman with a little girl who had a head full of bouncing curls.”

Torrell laughed. “Yes, that would be Renaya.”

The elvin man straightened and cleared his throat, turning his attention to Jahrra now. “What do you wish to sacrifice in order to make this stone?”

Jahrra blanched at his word choice, but finally said, “My blood,” as she offered the index finger of her right hand.

The man nodded and took out a small lancet from one of his many pockets.

He paused then looked up at her, his brow wrinkling. “Do you favor your right or left hand?”

“Right,” Jahrra answered, wondering why it mattered.

“Best give me your left hand then. Your finger might be sore for a day or two and I wouldn’t want it to hinder you in any way.”

Jahrra obeyed then watched him prick her finger. The pain was sharp but over quickly. A thick bead of blood formed on her fingertip and she watched as it began to drip down the length of her finger.

“Allow some of it to fall in here,” the elf held out a small glass tube.

He watched as the tube filled halfway, then handed Jahrra a bandage to bind her finger with.

He eyed the blood carefully then smiled. “This shall do.”

Stoppering the tube and placing it carefully on the table beside the cauldron, the elf addressed Jahrra again, “Now, what I will be doing shortly might seem strange to you, so I’ll explain it. The potion in this cauldron stays constant, unless awakened by magic, so I will be speaking a few words of power over it. The liquid will seem to speed up and will grow clearer. I will need to add a few things to it to help with the binding of the stone, then I will pour in your blood.”

He paused to make sure Jahrra was listening. Jahrra nodded.

“It will take the stone about an hour to form and there is no guarantee on what it will look like when it comes out. Once formed, my wife and daughter will set it in a ring for you. As soon as they return, you’ll have the opportunity to pick out a design and metal you wish to use. That is when we can discuss pricing.”

At that moment, the women returned with two velvet boxes. The light in the room was improved with a few spoken words and soon Jahrra was looking at several sample rings and the designs on each. She automatically brushed aside the rings with ornate etchings of flowers and vines. Jaax would never wear something so fancy and she would not want to see him doing so. Such frivolous decorations didn’t match his personality in the least. No, she needed to find a ring that represented his stubborn, well-controlled spirit. After looking at most of the rings, Jahrra was getting worried. They were all beautiful but too boastful in their opulence. There were a few very plain rings but she wanted there to be some sort of etched design on the final product.

“If you have your own idea, you could sketch it out for us,” the shop owner’s daughter said.

Jahrra nodded and smiled. She wasn’t sure what she would come up with but she followed the girl out into the main room again where she was supplied with a sketch book. It took her some time but she finally came up with a design she could imagine Jaax wearing. It was a simple knotted pattern with two dragon heads facing each other at the top of the ring, exactly where the stone would sit.

“The stone could go here,” Jahrra pointed where the two mouths stood slightly open.

The elvin girl nodded. “I know exactly how we can make this. It shouldn’t be a problem.”

Jahrra felt suddenly better, as if having a hand in the design would make the final product more pleasing to her guardian. The girl led her back into the cauldron room where Torrell was peering into the glowing potion while the jeweler tried to explain the process to her.

“Do we have a design?” the woman asked.

Her daughter grinned and passed over the sketching.

“Ah, very nice. Your dragon should like this. Now,” she continued, tucking the paper away, “What type of metal would you like to use?”

Jahrra moved forward as the ring samples were presented again. She liked gold, but gold was a soft metal and a bit too rich. She thought silver might do, but another metal caught her eye instead. It looked like a nice blend of silver and gold; not too yellow, not too bright.

“What metal is this?” she asked, pointing down at the centermost ring.

The elvin woman smiled. “It is a rare metal that holds a hint of magic.”

“Oh.” Magic metal meant more expensive. Jahrra sighed in disappointment and looked back towards the silver rings.

“It’s called augrím and it is mined exclusively in the Great Hrünahn Mountains. The elves are given special permission by the Creecemind dragons to do so.”

Which meant the metal was even more expensive than Jahrra had previously thought. And the amount of metal it would take to cast a ring that would fit a dragon’s finger . . . ? She shuddered despite her disappointment. The silvery gold augrím was quite beautiful, but not crucial.

“The silver is nice, how much would it cost to have the stone set in silver?”

The elvin man smiled. “If the ring is a gift for who we suspect, then we would be willing to offer you a very special price on the augrím.”

Jahrra blinked up in surprise. What was he talking about? She looked quizzically at his wife and daughter, both smiling shyly as if they were afraid to displease her. How had she not noticed their careful behavior before? Jahrra looked back at Torrell. Her friend simply shrugged, obviously as confused as Jahrra.

“I’m sorry,” Jahrra said, straightening up from admiring the rings, “have we met before? I’m terrible at remembering names, I apologize if-”

The elvin woman cut her off, “Oh no, you would not know us, but we know your guardian. The Tanaan dragon Raejaaxorix, correct?”

Jahrra shouldn’t have been surprised but it didn’t keep her from staring dumbfounded at the trio of elves. Nearly everyone in the city knew of Jaax and the Coalition and through him Jahrra herself, and although people acknowledged her as someone to be respected, no one, thank Ethöes, had ever gone out of their way to make special accommodations for them. Why now? Why this family?

“N-No, that isn’t necessary,” Jahrra stammered, holding her hands up in front of her, her bandaged finger looking larger than the rest, “please, I want to pay full price just like everyone else.”

Jahrra could feel Torrell behind her, fighting back laughter. She gritted her teeth.

“We insist, Lady,” the elvin man said, “Raejaaxorix did us a great service several years back.”

His smile faded and he looked at his daughter. Not a lingering look but just long enough for Jahrra to come to the conclusion that Jaax had somehow aided their daughter at some point in time. The way the girl’s hand moved subconsciously towards the scar on her neck was further evidence. Something traumatic had happened to this family and Jaax had helped. Jahrra sighed.

“He never allowed us to do anything to show our appreciation, but we would like very much to thank him in some way and this seems like a wonderful way to do it,” the woman said, the entreaty in her voice strong and hopeful.

Jahrra felt her shoulders droop and she cast a look at her friend once again. Torrell just shrugged her shoulders but the arch of her eyebrow suggested Jahrra take advantage of her good fortune.

Scrunching up her mouth and making a decision against her better judgment, Jahrra gave in. “Very well, if you insist, but I must be allowed to pay full price for the stone.”

“Excellent!” The jeweler clapped his hands. “Now, augrím it will be, and do you want a binding on the stone? The extra cost is minimal, I assure you.” He winked.

Jahrra blinked in confusion, “A binding?”

“Yes, it’s a process we incorporate into the making of the stone where we bind the finished product to its future owner. It makes the stone impossible to steal and if for whatever reason the owner should lose his or her stone, it will always find its way back to them in some way or another.”

“How is that done?” Jahrra thought this a useful little safeguard.

“All we need is some essence of the party the ring is for,” the jeweler’s wife stated.

“Oh,” Jahrra said in defeat, “never mind then.”

She didn’t have anything of Jaax’s.

“Jahrra!” Torrell said suddenly, smacking her on the arm. “Your pendant!”

Jahrra found the thin chain around her neck with her fingers, pulling out the scale that always rested close to her skin.

“Torrell,” she said rather quietly, as she rubbed her arm, “I can’t part with Jaax’s scale, just to bind the stone.”

“The process doesn’t work the same way for the binding,” the girl spoke up.

“The binding process is different,” her father agreed, “during the creation of the stone, we would merely let the scale drop below the surface of our potion for a moment or two while we speak the words of binding, then we pull it out. Nothing will happen to it at all. It won’t even get wet.”

His grin was infectious and Jahrra smiled widely. She liked the idea of putting a safeguard on Jaax’s ring. She didn’t know why, but it made the gift seem much more valuable.

“Now, for the final price,” the shop owner continued, “the amount of augrím used is the same as it would be should we be making a spirit ring to fit you. The jewelry containing spirit rings is always spelled so that it will grow or shrink to fit its owner perfectly.”

The elf named a price for Jahrra and she realized with great relief that, although it would make a sizeable dent in her savings, she would have plenty of her small fortune left to purchase gifts for her other friends. She suspected that the elves might have known exactly how much she had, for despite her relief, she still felt the price not adequate enough to cover the cost of the stone and the rare metal. She looked back at Torrell with a question in her eyes but the other girl merely shrugged once again.

Jahrra nodded. “Very well. You may begin.”

The shop owner called his daughter over. She held a tray with several items on it: a bit of orange powder, a pile of leaves of some sort, a vial of a purple liquid, what looked like fish scales and the glass tube with her blood. The elf placed his hands over the cauldron and murmured a few words. The faint glow of green intensified and the steam rising from the surface increased. Small roiling bubbles began to form and Jahrra felt herself taking a step back.

“Tis perfectly safe, I assure you,” the jeweler said with a smile as he turned to his daughter and began gathering ingredients.

Jahrra chose to remain where she was while Torrell moved closer, even leaning over the cauldron, her dark face glowing strangely in the green light.

A great display ensued, what with the elf and his wife adding ingredients here and there while chanting in an almost musical way. The liquid substance in the cauldron changed with each item added, turning strange colors, steaming or seeming to leap up into the air. By the time they appeared to be coming to the end, Jahrra was pressed firmly against the wall while Torrell, as usual, stood with her arms crossed casually, looking bored.

The potion eventually calmed to a placid state and turned the deep blue color of the ocean. Jahrra swallowed and took a tentative step forward.

“Now, for the final steps,” the shop owner delicately picked up the glass tube, uncorked it and let the blood drop into the cauldron, murmuring his magical words once again. As each drop hit the surface, it flashed silver and disappeared.

Finally, the last of the blood broke the surface of the cauldron and the potion became still again. Slowly, it turned from that deep blue to an almost clear color.

“Quickly, the dragon scale,” the shop owner’s wife gestured towards Jahrra.

Jahrra swiftly unfastened the chain and handed it over.

As soon as the liquid was completely transparent, the elvin woman lowered the scale just below the surface as her husband and daughter chanted softly. A shock wave of color, the red of a brilliant sunrise, coursed through the potion. As soon as it appeared it faded, and before Jahrra knew it the woman was returning her dragon scale pendant back to her.

“Now we must let it sit for an hour before we can fish out the stone, and then it must be cut to the shape you desire.”

Jahrra blinked up at the shop owner then glanced into the cauldron. The liquid was colorless through to the bottom. There was nothing else in the great bowl. Jahrra furrowed her brow and looked back at the elf.

“Where’s the stone?” she queried.

“It should start forming in ten minutes or so. Would you like to watch it?”

Jahrra nodded. If she was going to be spending most of her savings, she wanted to see how it formed. She and Torrell were offered chairs and they both sat to wait.

“You know, this takes nearly an hour,” Torrell mumbled when they were left in peace. “We could go look into the other shops until they are finished.”

Jahrra shook her head. “This is my first spirit stone, remember? I want to see the entire process.”

Torrell rolled her eyes and blew a wayward curl out of her eyes.

The time seemed to crawl by but eventually a tiny speck of something appeared on the bottom of the cauldron. It gradually grew, becoming the size of a very large pebble before the shop owner’s wife reentered the room.

“Ah, looks like it’s ready.”

“How do you know?” Jahrra asked, standing up and stretching out of her chair.

The elvin woman smiled warmly. “See how the water begins to cloud?”

Jahrra had to admit that the crystal clear appearance of the water was now turning a milky green. The jeweler’s daughter stepped through the curtains with a pair of tongs. She dipped them under the surface of the potion, gingerly grasped the stone, and lifted it up out of the cauldron. The stone was roughly round in shape and was larger than Jahrra had thought, but its smooth surface and rather bland colors sent a pang of disappointment through her.

She glanced at Torrell’s fiery stone, its many facets catching the weak light and reflecting it back as tiny red and gold sparks. Looking back at her own stone, Jahrra began to wonder if perhaps her personality was far more featureless than she had thought.

“Don’t look so morose young lady,” the shop owner said cheerily as they stepped out into the main room, “it still needs to be cut. All stones look rather drab and colorless when they first come out.”

Jahrra breathed a sigh of relief and smiled sheepishly. Of course it would look so plain before it was cut. She just assumed that it formed as a complete jewel.

“Why is it so big?” Torrell asked in her usual brusque way.

“This stone’s intended for a dragon, I mentioned that in the incantations. Therefore it grew large enough to fit a dragon’s sense of style.” The elvin man winked and Torrell snorted. Jahrra didn’t miss her small grin, though.

“Now, all that’s left is for you to pick a cut for this lovely stone.”

“Oh,” Jahrra said, “um, I’m not sure, what do you suggest?”

“Gracelle?” the elf said as he turned towards his wife.

The elvin woman scrutinized the large stone and then studied the sketch Jahrra had given them before.

“With this ring design and the fact that this is for a male dragon, I would have to suggest a round or slightly oval cut.”

Jahrra shrugged. “I wouldn’t know either way. I’ll leave it up to you to decide. You’re the experts.”

The woman smiled and answered, “Very well, we shall see what we can do. Being that this is such a large stone it will take us longer than the customary time, despite our use of magic. I suggest you come back an hour or so before sundown.”

Jahrra nodded. It was nearly noon, so that would give her and Torrell plenty of time to get some lunch and explore this side of the city. She and Jaax may have been in Lidien for several months but it was a large metropolis and she hadn’t seen all of it yet. Now would be the perfect opportunity. With a smile towards her friend and a waved thanks to the jeweler and his family, they strode through the door to see what new discoveries they could find.

-Chapter Fifteen-

The Fortune Teller’s Secret

After leaving the jewelry store the girls found a tiny shop where tea and pastries were served. Once done with their meal, they decided to investigate the open space they had seen across from the jeweler’s. The park itself was much larger than Jahrra had previously thought. From the street side it wasn’t very wide, but as she and Torrell strolled along the gravel-packed path that wound through the trees and around several small ponds, they realized it carried on for a couple miles or so.

“Should we walk to the end?” Torrell asked.

Jahrra shrugged. “Why not? We have until the end of the day.”

They took their time, admiring the sycamore trees along the way and pausing to climb a few just for the fun of it, so it took them nearly two hours to reach the other side of the sprawling park. As they stepped from the manicured lawn onto time-worn cobblestones, Jahrra stopped and sucked in her breath.

“What?” Torrell asked shortly.

“Where are we?”

Before them the nearly black cobblestones formed a wide street that traveled through a neighborhood that looked to be forever trapped in the Sobledthe season. Dark stone buildings rose on either side of the road, their angles crooked and precarious like old herb witches bent over with arthritis. Most of the small shops, or so Jahrra assumed they were, had a second storey which featured window boxes, empty now in the early winter gloom. White smoke, sometimes tinged with color, rose from warped chimneys and the spicy smell of wintertime food permeated the air.

“I know this place. We used to come here when I was little,” Torrell mused. “It’s the Witching District. If you need a love spell or an herbal remedy, you come here.”

Jahrra shot her friend a disbelieving look. “Where I grew up witches were something to be feared, not something you go visiting as a child.”

Torrell grinned and shoved Jahrra forward. “Old superstitions spread by ignorant fools.”

Jahrra put a foot down to catch her forward momentum and rubbed the spot on her arm where her friend had pushed.

Returning Torrell’s grin, Jahrra responded, “Of course I know that now, but when I was younger . . . let’s just say it was common knowledge that a witch lived in the forest near my home.”

Ignorant fools indeed, Jahrra thought to herself, recalling that old memory as they began their trek down the uneven, dark cobblestones. Of course if it hadn’t been for Eydeth’s dare, she may never have met Denaeh. Jahrra stopped for a moment, forcing her friend to turn and give her a strange look. What would have happened then, if she had never stumbled upon the Mystic in the Belloughs those many years ago? And how odd that she had just been thinking about her old friend that very morning when perusing through her journal, to be reminded again now.

“Not afraid are you?” Torrell asked, her arms crossed and her eyebrow arched.

Jahrra shook her head. “Don’t be absurd. When I was twelve, I went looking for that witch.”

Torrell snorted. “And did you find her?”

Jahrra cocked her head to the side. “Yes.”

Jahrra couldn’t help laughing at the look on her friend’s face as she brushed past her.

The conversation soon ceased as the old buildings drew closer. They looked very similar to those near the jeweler’s, but an aura of wonder seemed to settle around these. The wooden signs hanging above the doors named each shop with ornate letters or bright symbols depicting their wares. After passing Herbs For All Seasons, Charms Galore and The Rose of Ethöes, Jahrra stopped dead in her tracks, forcing Torrell to walk right into her.

“Ow!” Torrell hissed in annoyance, her dark brown eyes looking dangerous.

Jahrra felt her face pale and her brain go blank. All she had room for in her mind was what she saw above the door of the shop just in front of them.

Torrell, unable to get her friend’s attention, followed Jahrra’s eyes.

“A fortune teller’s shop? Really Jahrra, I thought you above such silly nonsense.”

It wasn’t the sign that had caught Jahrra’s attention, not really. Fortune tellers were all too common and most of them were frauds. It was the bird perched on the sign that had forced her into a state of shock. Slightly bigger than a raven with short legs and a short tail, a ring of cream tipped feathers around its neck. A korehv. Could it possibly be Mílíhn? No, Jahrra told herself, Mílíhn is a darker blue than this bird.

“We have to go in,” Jahrra finally said.

“Alright,” Torrell gave in, “if you insist. But I never thought you to be the type to want your fortune read.”

“No, I don’t care so much about that,” Jahrra said as she pushed against the red wooden door, “I just need to check on something.”

Torrell glanced at her friend as if she suspected her of a spontaneous personality change, but a low grumble from the korehv above caused her to jump and hurry after Jahrra into the dark room in front of them.

Immediately, they were overwhelmed by a multitude of smells: the sweet smoky scent of incense, the bite of garlic, the reassuring smell of wood smoke, the nose-itching mustiness of old dust. The few windows that faced the street were slightly dirty and mostly covered with gauzy drapes. A small cauldron hung over the fire on the far wall, and several cushions and old, battered stuffed chairs were scattered about the carpet-laden floor.

Waving her hand in front of her face, Torrell coughed and said, “You know, I’m not too picky about neatness Jahrra but this place just might change my mind.”

The room did seem a little cluttered but Jahrra’s heart clenched. It reminded her so much of Denaeh’s cave in the Belloughs of the Black Swamp that for a blessed second she thought she was actually there.

A sharp whining sound made both girls jump. Jahrra glanced down and at their feet stood a huge cat, its longish hair a multitude of browns and oranges. No wonder they hadn’t seen it; the animal’s fur had blended in with the rugs it stood upon. The cat meowed again, a pathetic sounding complaint that matched the doleful look in its large amber eyes.

“Netty merely seeks a scratch under the chin from you fine girls.”

Jahrra was tired of being surprised into jumping, and she wasn’t sure but she thought it might’ve been the first time she had ever heard Torrell cry out in surprise.

“We don’t get many visitors here.”

The casual voice sounded like it belonged to an old woman, a woman who stood hidden in the shadows of the room. As she spoke, however, she moved into the dim light coming in through the dusty windows. As she moved closer, close enough that her face was visible, Jahrra felt her stomach drop. She looked young, despite the age she had heard in her voice just moments ago. She wore a dress made from old, worn fabric and she moved with practiced grace. It was her hair, however, that had forced Jahrra once more into a state of numbness. An unnatural saffron yellow and falling past her shoulders in rough waves.

“You’re a Mystic,” Jahrra said automatically, her mouth barely forming the words.

The woman’s kind smile froze on her face, as if a blast of northern wind had hit her before she had time to brace herself. Jahrra heard Torrell make a choking sound beside her.

Eventually, the woman thawed. “I’m sorry, what did you say?”

Her voice was harsher, its kindness gone.

Jahrra swallowed. “You are a Mystic. You’re no fortune teller. You could tell us our names if you wished.”

The woman seemed to bristle. “Mystics are a myth, young woman, and of course I do not know your names. How could I? You just stepped into my store! I cast fortunes, that is all.”

Jahrra felt Torrell grab her arm in a vice-like grip.

The woman stepped swiftly forward, streaming past the girls, and went directly to the door.

“I’ll kindly ask you to leave if you are to come in here and toss around such disrespectful words. I’ll not have you chasing away my customers by spouting off such foolishness. I don’t know who you think you are, but I will not tolerate brazen young ladies with wild ideas.”

She yanked the door open and held it for Jahrra and Torrell. The cat had long since disappeared up the stairs that climbed along the wall in one corner.

Jahrra stepped forward, seeming to forget she had Torrell with her, and said to the woman, her voice low, “Mystics are not a Myth, and I have every right to believe you are one.”

“Jahrra, let’s just go, we’ve insulted the kind woman enough,” Torrell insisted through gritted teeth as she pulled on Jahrra’s arm.

Jahrra shrugged her off. “There is a korehv sitting on your sign outside, your hair is a very unusual color and,” Jahrra paused and looked the woman directly in the eye, “your eyes.”

The woman blinked and looked away, her pale topaz eyes focusing on something down the street. She seemed defeated and her stiff shoulders relaxed a bit, but she still denied what Jahrra tried to claim.

“Nay child, you are mistaken. Mystics do not exist.”

Jahrra didn’t miss the change in her stance.

“But I know a Mystic,” she whispered, loud enough for the woman to hear but for Torrell to miss.

“Oh?” the fortune teller said in the same quiet tone. “And do tell me, who might this supposed Mystic be?” She crossed her arms and took on a haughty look.

Jahrra took a breath and glanced over her shoulder for Torrell. She had moved to the middle of the street and was casting a plaintive look at her friend who insisted on lingering in front of the fortune teller’s shop.

Jahrra turned her attention back to the woman and answered her question with another harsh whisper, “The Mystic Archedenaeh.”

A bolt of shock coursed through the woman. Jahrra knew this only because she was certain she had felt it. Her already pale face paled even further and her yellow eyes went wide with unadulterated fear.

“You lie, girl!” the woman hissed, her teeth bared and her lips thin and white.

Jahrra took a few steps back. This was not the reaction she had expected.

“Be gone from my sight and do not show your face near my shop again!”

The woman started muttering to herself, words Jahrra either couldn’t hear or failed to understand. She slammed the door so hard that Jahrra felt the door frame shudder. Numb with shock, she turned and rushed to her friend.

“What on Ethöes did you say to her?” Torrell insisted. “Jahrra!”

The two of them walked swiftly down the street, heading away from the buildings Jahrra had been so keen to explore. One day she would return to peruse these shops, but not today, not after what had transpired in front of the Mystic’s store.

Jahrra was sure she was a Mystic. Her hair, her eyes, the way she carried herself and the sound of her voice. Even the korehv outside her shop, now eyeing them balefully as they hurried back to the park, all pointed out that she was one of the rare women who could actually see bits of the future. But why had the mention of Denaeh caused her such fear?

Jahrra shook her head and finally paid heed to her friend, picking up her pace as Torrell pulled on her arm.

“Jahrra! You’re actually scaring me, tell me what happened. Why did you think that woman was a Mystic? Mystics are creatures of the past, before the Tyrant king gained power, you know that! He had them all destroyed before the Tanaan prince and his people were cursed. Before the effort to curse them drained all his power!”

Jahrra stopped walking. She took a few deep breaths to clear her reeling head. Of course she knew the history but what was taught and what was known did not always add up. Denaeh had somehow survived the Tyrant’s exterminations and if she had then so could others. Could this woman be afraid that her secret might get out? And if it was so dangerous to be known as a Mystic, why had Denaeh shared that information with Jahrra so readily? Jahrra gritted her teeth and took up walking briskly once again, stepping off of the hard, uneven cobblestones and onto the soft grass of the park.

“Jahrra!” Torrell shouted this time, still trying to get her friend to speak with her.

“I’m sorry,” Jahrra finally said, her voice sounding hoarse, “Hroombra, my guardian before Jaax, taught me a great deal about Mystics and several other things for that matter.” Jahrra fought back the pain that always arose when she thought of Hroombra. “I was so certain she fit the description.”

“Well,” Torrell said as she expelled a great breath, “next time you go around accusing people of being something that should no longer exist, think it through before hand, would you?”

Jahrra grinned sheepishly and nodded. Yes, think it through she would. In fact, she would be giving this whole matter a great deal of thought. Later, when she had the luxury of a rested mind and an overabundance of free time.

* * *

The saffron haired woman watched the two girls speed away from her shop as if she were cursing people with the plague. Good, she didn’t need the tall blond hanging around and piling more evidence against her true identity. The woman shivered, her skin pricking with goose bumps. She was frightened; no, she was terrified. No one had ever so much as considered she was anything more than a fortune teller. She kicked herself mentally.

You should have stayed in your crone form Sahrielle, she said to herself. But how was she to know this girl and her friend would have any clue as to what she was? No one else had, not for centuries. How on Ethöes could a young woman, no older than twenty, know what to look for in a Mystic?

The answer sent a fresh wave of horror through her nerves. Archedenaeh.

“Impossible!” Sahrielle hissed, her voice now reflecting the aged form she had taken shortly after the girls had departed.

But if it were possible . . . ?

“No,” the old woman rasped, “she would have been the first one he destroyed.”

The Mystic paused for a moment, turning what she knew over and over again in her mind.

“Or,” she continued in a softer voice, her golden eyes roving about the room as if they weren’t seeing anything at all. As if they were looking far into the past. “Or he would have saved her for last . . .”

The woman shuddered again, saying an ancient prayer to the goddess as she clutched an amulet around her neck. Perhaps she should leave this place, a place that had been a safe haven for so long. The girl had spoken of the Mystic Archedenaeh, and she had some other strange aura about her, something Sahrielle hadn’t been able to decipher.

“If she had stayed but a few minutes longer, and if she hadn’t distracted me with her accusations, I would now know what it was about her . . .”

Hissing in a breath of disdain, the old crone limped over to the front door of her store, melting into the younger version of herself before cracking it open. The girl was gone, along with her companion. She checked up and down the street several times before she was sure no one else was around. After flipping the sign outside to indicate she was closed for services, she glared up at the bird perched upon the corner of her upstairs flowerbox.

“Geffin!” she hissed. “Accursed bird, you know better than to cling about my store in the open as if to call down all manner of trouble. Today your presence has caused us great peril. We may even have to flee the city.”

The korehv fluffed his feathers and grumbled. Stretching his neck in a flamboyant yawn, he hopped from his perch and glided through the door of the Mystic’s store.

Once inside, the old woman spoke to the bird, “Now, I’ll let you back out, but there will be no more lazing about. I need you to be on the lookout for another woman like me. A Mystic.”

Geffin fluffed his feathers again and turned up a sharp eye as the woman spoke.

“About this tall,” she held a hand up to the level of her chin, “with brilliant red hair and eyes like mine. Her name is Archedenaeh, but often goes by Denaeh.”

Sahrielle took a shuddering breath and allowed her eyes to drift towards the fire, now a generous pile of embers. After all these years she still had a vivid image of Archedenaeh in her mind. She seemed to sink into herself for the space of several moments; her eyes lost some of their fire and her rigid stance melted.

“It cannot be,” she whispered, finally comprehending all that she was contemplating, all that she had surmised from what the strange girl had told her.

The korehv released a rolling grumble. The Mystic jumped and regained her composure.

She cleared her throat. “This other Mystic, she would be traveling with a korehv like you, though hers is darker. If you see anyone who even remotely matches this description, you must immediately return to me.”

She took a breath then said to no one in particular, “If the Mystic Archedenaeh still lives then we are all in very grave danger.”

* * *

Torrell heaved a great sigh of relief when she and Jahrra finally stepped from the park and back onto the familiar street on the other side of Tynne Alley.

“I don’t know about you, but I think I’ll be avoiding the Witching District from now on. That fortune teller was creepy!”

Torrell shivered but Jahrra paid her no attention. In fact, she had hardly paid much attention to anything save their strange encounter during their return to the jeweler’s.

“You’re not thinking of going back there, are you?” Torrell asked, her eyes wide in surprise.

Jahrra cast a glance at her friend. She had every intention of returning to that strange lane and its dark buildings. She wanted to know exactly who this Mystic was and she wanted to know why the woman feared Denaeh. Hroombra and Jaax had warned her away, in so many words, from seeking the Mystic’s company, but they never explained exactly why. Jahrra wanted to ask Jaax but coming up with the right words would be difficult. He may now be her guardian and he might be more open to her questions than he had been in the past, but she knew the Mystic was a sore subject with him, one he didn’t like to discuss.

Perhaps she should, once again, try to solve this mystery on her own. But don’t forget Jahrra, the little voice inside her said, you are now very much embroiled in all of this so you do have a right to know what is going on in the world. Jahrra sighed. Perhaps she would ask him after Solsticetide. If he was going to revert to his harsh, cranky self, they could at least enjoy the holiday first.

Jahrra turned to her friend and shrugged as she answered her earlier question, “I might come back, and I might not. But if I do it won’t be right away.”

No, I have to go home and think this over and decide what I know and what I want to know, she added to herself as an afterthought.

Torrell crossed her arms and gaped in slight outrage. “You would consider going back there?!”

Jahrra nodded then grinned. “You’ve been there before, I haven’t. And I didn’t get to see all the shops. I’ll just stay away from the fortune teller.”

“It’s your skin,” Torrell said, clearly giving up. “So, we still have about an hour or so before your spirit stone is ready, what should we do?”

Jahrra suggested they browse the other stores in the magical alley. Torrell nodded her agreement and the two of them zigzagged from one unusual store to the next. Jahrra found Senton’s dagger in one of the smaller shops and even allowed Torrell to pick out a bracelet.

“But you don’t get it until Solsticetide,” she said as the store manager wrapped it for her.

They wandered away from the alley for a while and Jahrra found a dressmaker’s shop with a bonnet that she thought would go well with Neira’s dress.

“Now I just need something for Dathian . . .” she mused as they eyed the row of buildings down the next block.

Jahrra couldn’t tell Torrell she wanted to get Dathian something specific, something from Dhonoara, because of the secret she swore to him. But when she saw a sign that read Provincial Imports, she grabbed Torrell’s hand and dragged her through the door.

“Um, I’m supposed to be shopping too,” Torrell said as she glanced around at the hundreds of exotic items crammed on the shelves.

Jahrra leapt at the opportunity. “Okay, meet you outside in half an hour?”

Torrell grinned. “Deal.”

Immediately, Jahrra waved down a clerk. “Do you have anything imported from Dhonoara?” she whispered.

The young Nesnan man nodded and regained his arm from Jahrra before leading her down a rather stuffy aisle. He pointed out the section and Jahrra started nosing around. She found small statues carved from wood and prints said to be the genuine creations of the elves of Dhonoara, but none of those appealed to her.

Finally, her eyes fell upon something that made her breath catch in her throat. It was nothing more than a simple inkwell, larger than usual, but polished and carved from what Jahrra recognized as the famous stone from Dhonoara Canyon. If she didn’t know any better she would have sworn it had been taken from Yaraa and Viornen’s table.

Pleased with her find, Jahrra picked it up and brought it to the front of the store to pay for it. Once it was wrapped and stored snuggly in her bag next to the dagger, bonnet and bracelet, she walked outside to wait for Torrell.

A few minutes later Torrell emerged with a huge grin on her face. Jahrra gave her a wary look.

“Found the perfect gift for you,” she said.

Jahrra smiled. “I managed to finish all my shopping too.”

“So what did you get Dathian then?”

Jahrra pulled out the inkwell. There was nothing on it to mark where it was from and it didn’t matter if Torrell knew now or not. Jahrra just couldn’t risk her hearing her earlier, asking for something specifically from Dhonoara. With Torrell’s sharp mind she might remember her friend’s rocky encounter with the elf and the confusion over his book.

“An inkwell!” she exclaimed. “Oh, perfect! You know, I think all he does is study and make notes for Anthar when he isn’t with us. He’ll love it.”

Jahrra thought so too.

They made their way back to Tynne Alley, sampling a few more stores along the way, the last being a shop that mixed strange perfumes.

The sunlight had begun to lengthen and fade, spilling around the slightly circular courtyard sprawled out in front of them. Jahrra glanced over at the crooked fountain bubbling water, making note of the archaic clock perched atop its highest tier.

“Is it that late already?” she queried, trying desperately to escape the cloud of scent that had followed her and Torrell from the open door of the perfume shop.

“Guess we had better go get your ring.” Torrell had moved to the fountain where she was scooping up the cold water in an attempt to scrub scented oil from her skin.

“Ugh, I like perfume just as much as any other girl, but to lather the stuff on me? Honestly!”

Jahrra stifled a giggle. The owner of the perfume shop seemed overly eager with her insistence that they sample everything. If Jahrra didn’t know any better she would have said the woman charmed her scents, making them last longer.

They skirted the fountain and pots holding evergreen plants and moved further down the street. The jeweler’s daughter greeted them with a brilliant smile when they entered the store.

“Just wait until you see the stone Miss, it is one of the most beautiful I’ve seen.”

Jahrra blinked in surprise, returning a nervous grin. She felt suddenly uneasy again. She couldn’t wait to see the results of their hard work but that inkling of doubt crept through her again. What if Jaax doesn’t like it?

The elvin girl disappeared into the recesses of the shop to fetch her father. Torrell and Jahrra waited no more than two minutes, Jahrra silent and Torrell absently rubbing at the place where the perfumed oil still lingered. When the jeweler finally emerged from behind the beaded curtain, Jahrra went rigid. He carried a large wooden box carved with vines and what looked like roses. The box clunked loudly as he placed it upon the front counter and Jahrra felt herself moving forward in curiosity.

“Are you ready to see your stone and ring young lady?”

Jahrra swallowed hard and nodded.

With a snap and a creak, the elf unlatched the lock and pulled the box open. Jahrra didn’t see much at first, save for the black velvet that lined the box, but as she crept closer and peeked in, her breath caught in her throat. The ring had to be big enough to fit over her closed fist and hang like a loose bangle on her wrist. The augrím, Jahrra decided immediately, was a rather excellent choice. Its silvery-gold luster shown like the glassy stillness of the sea against the dark velvet. The etched dragon figures were even more realistic than she had first imagined them. She even noticed a few extra details the family had added, such as the tiny scales that covered the giant reptiles’ skin.

But it was the stone that had her staring, as if caught in the deadly glare of the sun. It was huge, slightly oval in shape but many-faceted. If Jahrra were asked to describe the color, she wouldn’t be able to say for sure. It was somewhere between green, turquoise, aqua and brilliant blue, with a few flecks of pale orange and golden yellow as well. All of the colors intermingled, complimenting one another and setting one another off. Jahrra’s eyes roamed over the jewel, her hand itching to touch it.

She reached out tentatively when she noticed an anomaly. To one side of the stone, not quite in the center, and buried well below the surface, was a fleck of deep red. This one color was larger and richer than the other random flecks, as if someone had taken a small ruby and embedded it into the center of her stone.

Jahrra placed one finger above the red blotch and looked up. “Why does the red accumulate here?”

The elf smiled brightly. “That is the heart speck. It shows up in all spirit stones but it just happens to be a little more obvious in yours, since your stone needed to be big enough to fit a dragon and the color surrounding it is so different. Also, since you offered blood, it is richer in color and bigger in size. It represents a little piece of the donor’s heart, in this case, your heart.”

Jahrra pulled her finger back. She thought that was a bit odd. How could a piece of her heart end up in a stone? She had only given a small drop of her blood. Magic perhaps? She turned to look at Torrell.

Torrell pulled her own gem from beneath her shirt. “My spirit stone is mostly red all the way through, but if you hold it up and place a light behind it, you can sometimes see a small dark speck in there.”

The other girl mimicked the act of seeking out the heart speck and Jahrra smiled. She was still amazed at how much she had to learn about this magical world she lived in.

“Very well,” Jahrra sighed as she turned back to the jeweler, “you and your family are very gifted. I hope Jaax appreciates this gift as much as I do.”

“Oh, no doubt he will,” the elf assured her.

Jahrra screwed up her nose. “He can be hard to please sometimes.”

“Ah, but this manner of gift coming from you, the human destined to save Ethöes? He will cherish it.”

Jahrra grimaced at the mention of her humanness, but wondered what the shop owner meant by his comment. She shrugged. Just a business man flattering a buyer with kind words.

The jeweler’s wife emerged from the back of the store with a beautifully embroidered bag for Jahrra to carry the box in. She counted out the amount they had agreed upon, and once again feeling as if she were getting something for free, Jahrra insisted in giving them a little more for the bag and the extra attention to detail they spent on the dragons on the ring.

Stepping from the store, Jahrra and Torrell shivered, pulling their coats a little tighter. It was still late autumn, what with Sobledthe having passed just last weekend, but winter was upon them and the air was beginning to chill, especially just around sundown.

“I think we should pay the extra coin and hail a carriage once we get out of this alley,” Torrell suggested as they made their way down the narrow lane back onto the larger street.

Their boot heels clicked loudly against the cobbles and the gentle tinkle of the fountain played in their ears as they quickened their pace into a brisk walk. The busy streets had emptied but still contained a good number of people out for some last minute shopping or visiting the local restaurants for dinner. Once free of the enchanted alley and its unusual stores, the girls managed to hire a driver who would take them home.

Jahrra clutched the embroidered bag close, the box inside large enough to hold some of the silk slippers she had back at home. She wondered how she would get this inside without Jaax noticing and thus questioning her about it. He was surely to be home by now. She pulled open her bag and tried to shove the box in. It barely fit, making her pack look squarish and awkward, but Jahrra breathed a sigh of relief regardless. If Jaax asked her about it she would be able to claim it was only a Solsticetide gift without worrying about further inquiry.

As the small carriage made its way through the wide streets of Lidien, Jahrra gazed out over the bay. The far hills that acted as a sort of sentry gate at the entrance of the great inlet stood dark against the crimson sky.

All around them small groups of people mingled and chatted, still speaking about the splendid Sobledthe festival or discussing their plans for Solsticetide, their words lost as the carriage clattered past. Several young boys moved around on stilts, lighting the lamps along the streets and bringing the city back to life as the light of the sun waned. Jahrra leaned back into the carriage and smiled. No one seemed frightened or unhappy in this city.

The carriage began its ascent into the hills and Jahrra turned to glance back over the scene below her. It looked like a display of magic, all gold and cream and glittering with small lights. She had fought coming here, she remembered bitterly; fought against Jaax and even Hroombra. The buried memory stung sharply like the prick of a nettle. She pushed it aside. She would not think of the final hateful words she had spoken to her beloved mentor just before he died. She hadn’t thought of them in months and she wouldn’t start up again now. But the memory still lingered, and Jahrra had to turn around to keep the tears from forming and falling down her cheeks.

Instead, she turned to Torrell. “Will you be going away for Solsticetide?”

Torrell flinched, as if she had been drifting off to sleep, then nodded. “We always stay in the city for Solsticetide. My sister would never allow us to leave; we would miss all the fun activities.”

The carriage clattered down the cobbled streets, the din of their passage nearly covering their laughter. Jahrra felt herself turning giddy, for it was nearly the Solstice, only a month or so away, and nearly her birthday. She would be eighteen years old, a grown woman. She could hardly believe it. She didn’t feel like an adult at the moment, laughing and acting childish with Torrell, but then again some days she felt more grown up than anyone else in the world.

The sun disappeared over the bay as Jahrra waved goodbye to her friend from the front of her home. She glanced up at the sky, its inky blue color growing deeper, and acknowledged the few stars that had already come out. The box she had hidden in her pack suddenly felt heavy in her hands and when she was sure Jaax wasn’t about to burst out of the door, demanding why she was standing about in the cold, she pulled it out and opened the lid to admire the spirit stone once again. It was harder to see in the dark but the firelight coming from the tall windows behind her leant her some assistance. She couldn’t seem to stop staring at it, the blue-green gem with the deep red speck lodged within and just off center. The etched metal caught the light and cast it back at her, highlighting the detailed craftsmanship.

Jahrra grinned broadly. Jaax would love the ring, he had to for she didn’t know how she would feel if he didn’t. Severe disappointment, she imagined. Before she could worry any more about how her guardian would receive this gift, the small door swung open and a great shard of light interrupted her.

“Jahrra! What on Ethöes are you doing standing out here in the dark?”

Quickly, Jahrra snapped the lid of the box shut and hurriedly shoved it back into her bag as Neira stepped forward, wrapped in a shawl. She glimpsed her bandaged finger in her haste to hide the ring, something she had managed to forget about between the shock of finding a Mystic and seeing the spirit stone completed, and quickly shoved it in her coat pocket before Neira could see it.

“Just watching the stars come out,” she answered.

The young woman eyed her suspiciously but didn’t inquire any further.

“Well, your supper is getting cold,” she sniffed, “and Master Jaax has been called off to another meeting.”

Jahrra sighed with relief. At least he wasn’t home to eye her square-shaped bag with suspicion.

She half expected Neira to go off on a tirade about Jaax working too hard and neglecting his ward but she only busied herself with chasing Jahrra inside where it was warm. The maid allowed her to go upstairs and change into something more comfortable before coming down for dinner. While in her room, Jahrra found a nice dark corner in her closet to hide Jaax’s Solsticetide gift, along with the others she had purchased.

“There,” she whispered, tucking it away beneath a pile of spare blankets, “now let’s hope I don’t forget about it.”

Feeling smugly pleased with herself, Jahrra joined Neira downstairs and the two of them ate in the great room before a roaring fire. She knew she needed to study for her upcoming exams, but she had a few more weeks and all of tomorrow to do so. Today’s journey through Lidien had worn her out, both physically and mentally. She needed a break.

As she climbed the stairs, waving a lazy good night to Neira, Jahrra turned over in her mind the events of that day. Taking part in the creation of the spirit stone had been a fascinating experience, as well as a curious one. Not for the first time that day she wondered what Jaax might have done for the shop owners to impel them to give her such a discount. Was the scar on the neck of the jeweler’s daughter a clue? Had Jaax rescued her from a fire? Jahrra imagined that fire would have little effect on a dragon so he would be the perfect creature to pull someone from a deadly inferno.

But that was not the most nagging thought in her mind as she pulled on her night clothes. Jahrra was most curious about the other Mystic she and Torrell had stumbled upon. She had managed to push the unpleasant experience from her mind for the remainder of her shopping venture with Torrell, but now that her mind had a chance to be still, it demanded answers.

Jahrra never could shake off the desire to know the answer to a good mystery when it presented itself, and this time was no different. In fact, it almost seemed worse. The encounter with the Mystic now drew her thoughts towards Denaeh and not for the first time since arriving in Lidien, she wondered what had become of her old friend after she and Jaax left Oescienne.

Most likely, the strange woman was still settled in the Belloughs, tending her odd garden and watching Mílíhn plant his seeds and seedlings. Jahrra grinned at the memory, her face reflecting back at her in the glass of her window. She wanted to believe the picture her mind now presented her: that Denaeh had gone on with her life within the relative safety of the Black Swamp, but something told Jahrra that just wasn’t so.

Maybe it was her knowing the Mystic so well, or knowing the nature of Denaeh’s actions so well. She was probably more involved in the great scheme of things than Jahrra had previously thought. This realization hit her like a sudden drop from a high place. Could Denaeh be taking on a greater role in all of this than Jahrra had previously thought? Could that be the reason for the other Mystic’s fear?

Shivering from a sudden chill, Jahrra wrapped her arms more tightly about herself and moved away from her window. The fire had died down to glowing embers so she grabbed a few pieces of firewood and added them to the coals. Once the hearth was glowing with a healthy fire again, Jahrra crawled up into her bed and tried to rest her mind.

If Denaeh planned on involving herself further with the human child sent by Ethöes then Jahrra could only look forward to seeing her again. But, she thought as she finally started drifting towards sleep, and after thoroughly considering her encounter today, does that bode good or ill will towards me and Jaax?

-Chapter Sixteen-

A Gift from the Heart

The weeks following the trip into the more remote corners of Lidien eked by slowly. Jahrra wondered about this, for usually the days leading up to the Solstice moved by quickly, especially since she was so busy studying for exams and getting ready for the holiday.

In the end, she decided the sudden sluggishness of time must be attributed to her strange encounter with the Mystic on the day she and Torrell went shopping. In fact, the oddness and mystery of it all often distracted her from everyday activities. More than once Neira or Jaax had to remind her that her dinner was getting cold, or Senton had to prod her in the ribs during their history course if the professor seemed to be asking them a question.

Despite much sighing and wracking of her brain, she couldn’t come up with any answers or theories to her questions. She couldn’t figure out why the Mystic was tucked away in a hidden corner of Lidien, why she had denied that she was, indeed, a Mystic, or why she had reacted so violently to the mention of Denaeh’s name. Eventually, however, the gnawing curiosity that always seemed to get the better of Jahrra tapered off and she became distracted with the activities of her everyday life once again.

Defense practice with her friends, for instance, was proving to be a good distraction. The shorter days of the encroaching winter not only forced them to practice on the weekends but in the mornings sometimes as well. It took Jahrra a while to get used to rising so early but after a week at it she found the cool morning hours quite enjoyable as she worked out with Torrell, Dathian and Senton. Senton’s friend from the Sobledthe festival, Lohra, also joined them more often than not. To Jahrra’s great delight, he seemed to be sparing more of his attention on the red haired girl than herself.

“Hope your heart isn’t broken,” Torrell whispered as they watched Senton and Lohra battle one another with wooden swords.

Jahrra only grinned back at her friend. “Nope. It’s perfectly sound.”

And that was the truth. Jahrra loved Senton dearly, but like a cousin or a long lost brother. She was glad his attention had shifted elsewhere and they could go back to being the friends they had been when they first met.

Another side effect of the early morning practice schedule was that Jahrra often got to eat breakfast with her guardian more often. The first day she had stumbled out of bed before sunup, Jaax had greeted her in the great room, his brow arched and his face draped in curiosity. Jahrra had merely tried to smooth her ruffled hair as she yawned and squinted her eyes away from the fire.

“Morning practices,” she grumbled as she plopped down and accepted a bowl of oatmeal from a chipper Neira.

Jahrra had wondered why her housemates were so robust at such an early hour but as the days passed and she grew used to going to bed earlier and waking up sooner as well, her early morning grogginess disappeared.

The four friends kept to their afternoon classes as well, except now they were shorter, usually only lasting an hour at the most. The short days had managed to scare away most of those who would come and fight against Jahrra and her companions, but as true winter drew nearer their challengers crept back like a fox returning to a henhouse.

“They want to take up open challenges with us again,” Torrell said to Jahrra, Senton and Dathian after asking the small crowd watching them what they were doing hanging around the practice field with no obvious intent to practice.

Jahrra’s eyes widened and she looked up at Senton and Dathian. Senton shrugged, but Dathian, despite his calm demeanor, had a gleam in his eye.

Jahrra grinned wickedly. “Are they willing to place bets?”

Torrell returned her friend’s smile. “Yes, they are.”

Jahrra knew that it was potentially dangerous to take up her old habit of sparring for money but purchasing Jaax’s Solsticetide gift had drained her savings and although she knew her guardian would have no trouble providing for her from the mysterious cache of wealth he had hidden away somewhere, it felt good to provide for herself. Yet it was risky, because somehow she knew her guardian would not approve of her methods of making money.

“If Jaax ever found out about this,” she said one morning on their way from the practice fields to class, “he might start following me throughout the day to keep me from doing anything disapproving.”

Torrell snorted and Senton gave her an incredulous look. Dathian wisely strolled along with his hands clasped behind his back as usual.

“You think he would object to making wagers that strongly?” Senton asked seriously, wiping his forehead with a spare towel he had brought along.

Jahrra shrugged. “Let’s just say it wouldn’t surprise me. He has been very protective in the past.”

“I can’t imagine why,” Torrell said facetiously as she crossed her arms. “You are the only human in Ethöes you know.”

Jahrra opened her mouth to protest, but Senton beat her to it.

“I don’t see why he would be so upset about this though.” He waved a hand around, indicating the practice field. “We’re not doing anything illegal and it’s not like you’re wandering beyond the borders of Lidien alone, looking for the Crimson King’s minions to pick a fight with.”

Jahrra sighed. “He would find something unsavory about it, believe me. For now, let’s just not talk about it when he is around.”

The rest of that week went by rather quickly, despite Jahrra’s nerves about their exams. The Solsticetide break was nearly upon them and when Jahrra managed to resurface from her long study sessions, it dawned upon her that her birthday wasn’t far off either. Was she really eighteen already? Where had the last year gone? She snorted at her wayward thoughts. Somehow, the past year had become lost among the mess that had become her life since leaving Oescienne. What significance did time have? When it was competing against learning you were destined to save the world and then in the next breath, fleeing from your only home in order to escape an evil demon that had killed your long-time guardian?

Jahrra shivered and tried to focus on the descendants of the kings of the lands of Felldreim and the proper mathematical equation she would need in order to come up with the large number swimming on the page of her book. It was no longer a surprise as to why she had so thoroughly lost track of time.

* * *

On the morning of Solstice Eve, Jahrra woke up with a start. For a fleeting moment, she’d thought she’d been having another nightmare but a glance towards her window washed all thoughts from her mind. She was late. She quickly threw on some practice clothes then dashed downstairs, managing to grab a bite to eat in her haste. She waved a goodbye to Neira and Jaax but was in too much of a hurry to catch their responses.

The streets of Lidien were still relatively quiet and the few citizens who were about paid no attention to the girl and her semequin moving swiftly through the frost-laden city. Great garlands of pine and fir hung from eaves and lampposts, and the few horses and carriages that traversed the deserted streets on this fine morning jingled with silver bells while the breath of the horses puffed in the air like wisps of dragon smoke. Jahrra smiled as she turned Phrym down a familiar lane, for it was the Solstice after all. Her exams were over and she had nearly two more weeks to recuperate before starting her new classes for spring term.

By the time she reached the public park the sun was well over the hills. Torrell, Dathian and Senton were waiting for her, grinning from ear to ear as they stepped forward, their arms loaded down with boxes wrapped in colorful paper and ribbons. Returning their smiles, Jahrra removed the pack from her shoulder and started pulling out wrapped boxes of her own. They’d all decided to exchange gifts this morning since Dathian had plans that would keep him busy most of the break and Senton was traveling up north with his family later that day to spend the holidays with his cousins.

“Sorry I’m late,” Jahrra said, slightly out of breath.

“You’re not that late,” Senton insisted.

“Enough chit-chat! Happy Solsticetide everybody!” Torrell said as she went around, thrusting a gift into everyone’s hands.

Soon the four of them were sitting on the damp grass, exchanging thanks and grins as the paper was torn away and the boxes were pried open. Senton couldn’t believe Jahrra had bought him a dagger and Torrell happily clasped her bracelet around her wrist, examining it in the weak, early morning sun of winter and pretending like she hadn’t picked it out herself.

Dathian held the stone inkwell gingerly, giving Jahrra a look.

She smiled. “Found it in a trade shop. One of the store’s attendants said it came from some valley back east,” Jahrra paused and waved her hand around, feigning ignorance, “Dennor Valley or Nohra Valley, I can’t remember.”

She grinned, giving Dathian a knowing glance. His look of slight bafflement melted away and a mask of awe and pure delight came over his face as his fingers curled protectively around the beautiful piece of carved stone. It nearly brought her to tears but she shrugged them away and turned back to her other two oblivious friends.

Jahrra sighed and looked down at her own gifts. A small stone statue of a dragon from Senton, a copy of The History of Dhonoara Valley from Dathian, carefully hidden in a leather book cover that claimed it to be a book on local wildlife, and a quill from Torrell, complete with an exotic bird’s feather. However, when Jahrra glanced to the side to pick up her quill she quirked her mouth in a frown.

“Torrell, where did the quill go? The one you gave me?” She looked around, thinking maybe it got knocked to the side.

“Mine’s gone too,” Senton complained, mimicking Jahrra as he searched.

The sound of contained laughter bursting free brought Jahrra’s eyes up to Torrell.

“They’re right in front of you!” she barked, “You just have to look very carefully.”

Jahrra furrowed her brow in puzzlement but focused her eyes on where she had last seen the missing item. And there it was: the shape of a feather against the green lawn. Jahrra gasped and snatched up the nearly invisible plume. Slowly, the green of the grass faded away and a brilliant blend of teal and gold took its place.

“A cape bird feather quill!” Jahrra cried out, finally realizing what it was. She beamed at Torrell. “I love it!”

Torrell shrugged and tried to hide her joy at pleasing her friend. “I thought you might like one after our conversation in Tynne Alley.”

Jahrra couldn’t stop smiling, especially when the portion of the quill she held started paling and taking on the color of her hand.

“We’ll have to store these in the same place after every use,” Dathian said, eying his own quill in bemusement.

After their gifts were stored safely in their own packs, the four of them got to business and spent a good two hours in the crisp dawn morning, clacking wooden swords together and lodging arrows into hay bales before bidding each other a final holiday farewell.

Once home, Jahrra gathered some clean clothes and a towel and headed into the small stone wash room with the copper bathtub. A nice long hot bath would help ease her tired muscles and once she was done, she could spend the day on her patio or helping Neira with the holiday cooking. Near sunset, the housemaid shooed her away from the kitchens, insisting that she put on something a little nicer for dinner. Grumbling, Jahrra looked down at her flour stained shirt and smiled. Perhaps Neira was right.

A half hour later Jahrra was dressed in one of her nicer tunics and pants and was sitting in her usual stuffed chair in the great room, sipping honeyed tea and staring at the dancing flames in the huge fireplace. She glanced around the room, her heart thrumming in contentment as she admired the evergreen garlands and silver and gold ribbons Neira had put up to give the room a more Solsticetide feel.

Jaax was late, as usual, and as the minutes ticked away Jahrra grew more and more fidgety. The carved wooden box containing his ring sat upon the table in the middle of the room next to Neira’s wrapped bonnet. If Jahrra didn’t know any better she would have sworn the box was slowly growing in size, like some mushroom attached to the stump of an old tree.

Another half hour passed and the large handle on the door clicked. Jahrra tensed, the nearly empty tea cup in her hand threatening to break. Jaax stepped in through the great door, every scale on his body looking weary and ready to collapse from fatigue. Jahrra forgot her tension for a moment. What had him so worried that it would make him look several hundred years older than he was? For weeks he’d been looking worse for the wear and Jahrra was wondering if perhaps it was time she talked to him about it.

When the Tanaan dragon spotted Jahrra sitting in her chair and watching him, he stiffened and forced his weariness back into hiding.

“I’m sorry I’m late. Have you been waiting long?” he asked, his eyes sharp and the tone of his voice guarded.

“No,” Jahrra lied, setting her tea cup down.

“Ah, right on time!” Neira proclaimed, bursting out of the small kitchen door, pulling a large cart behind her.

An entire roast pig, complete with a red apple in its mouth, sat upon the rolling table. Several onions, carrots and potatoes were scattered about it in the large pot.

“Now Jaax, I know you’ve eaten already this week, but surely you have some room to at least taste the Solstice roast pig?”

Jaax smiled, any last traces of worry melting away.

“Of course Neira, but if you’ll excuse me for a moment,” he nodded to both of them and disappeared down the hallway to his rooms.

“Oh, that reminds me!” she squawked, hands to her cheeks. “Presents!”

The housemaid disappeared through the kitchen door in a flurry of gray skirts, leaving Jahrra to stare at the fire once more.

An hour later the three of them were lounging around the great room, the meal finished and the fire whispering as the wood burned down to coals. Jahrra returned to her stuffed chair, Jaax reclined in his customary corner, and Neira sat upon the large couch in the center of the room.

Finally, the housemaid cleared her throat. “I wasn’t able to spend much but I wanted to get each of you something for the holidays.”

“Neira, you didn’t need to get us anything,” Jaax chastised gently.

Jahrra silently agreed.

Neira merely tsked as she handed Jaax a large box and Jahrra something smaller wrapped in tissue paper. Curious, Jahrra carefully pulled the paper away to reveal a small oil painting. She nearly dropped it in surprise as her eyes widened and filled with tears. It was an image of Phrym, standing proud and gazing through the picture frame with curious, smoky eyes.

“Oh Neira,” she whispered, clutching the picture close, “however did you manage this?”

The maid merely smiled. “A young friend of mine is studying to become an artist and he owed me a favor,” she said nonchalantly.

“Thank you,” Jahrra said, hugging the picture as if it were the real thing. Now she would be able to see Phrym every day, hanging on the wall of her room.

For Jaax she had ordered a large box of candied fruit Jahrra had seen him keep on his desk in his study. The dragon grinned and looked up at his housekeeper. “I’ll be set for a whole year now. Thank you, Neira.”

Again, she brushed aside the gratitude aimed her way.

“I hope what I picked out measures up,” Jaax said, nodding to a large bundle wrapped in brown paper. “And for you, Jahrra.” He indicated a long, narrow box wrapped in gold, topped with a ribbon.

Swallowing, Jahrra stood up and headed for the box, taking Neira’s gift and depositing it in her lap along the way. She had somehow lost the ability to speak for the time being. She lifted up the box, starting at its weight, and wove her way back to her chair. Before she went about the business of opening Jaax’s gift to her, she picked up the wooden box and walked over to her guardian.

The dragon gave her a curious look.

Jahrra managed a smile. “You didn’t think I’d forget about you?”

Her voice sounded meek to her own ears but before she thought too much about it, she bumbled on, “I mean, I know I forgot about you all the years before, that is,” Jahrra bit her cheek before she could finish the mess she had started.

She took another deep breath, never looking at her guardian’s face, and lifted the box up again. “I hope this makes up for all the times I forgot,” she said, then added, “I hope you like it.”

The shift in weight of the box in her hands was her only indication that Jaax had accepted the gift. Jahrra turned and escaped back to her chair before he could respond to her strange dialogue. She busied herself with unwrapping the golden box. When she finally pulled the lid away Jahrra was overcome with another bout of shock.

It was a sword, a perfect, brand-new, never once a hand-me-down sword. Jahrra vaguely heard Jaax say something about her needing a real, serviceable weapon as she ran a finger down the cool, smooth steel. It was plain with a leather-wrapped hilt and steel cross guard, but the leather was dark blue and a blood rose was engraved in the pommel. Jahrra lifted it up carefully and sighed at the feel of its comfortable weight in her hand. It was balanced perfectly and it wasn’t too heavy either. Below the sword was a matching scabbard and belt.

When Jahrra finally looked up from her daze, she glanced over at Neira who was beaming at her while clasping her new bonnet over her head.

“And look what Jaax got me,” she declared as she picked up the corner of a piece of fabric and trailed it over her lap. “Several yards of that beautiful pattern I had been eying for months! Now I can make myself a new dress. And I think it will go with my new bonnet too!”

Jahrra smiled, then without thinking, looked over at her guardian. Just as quickly, her smile disappeared. He wasn’t scowling at her or glancing at Neira. No, he wasn’t looking at anyone at all. Jahrra followed his gaze downward and spotted the carved wooden box at his feet, its lid thrown open. Her heart nearly stopped in her chest. He had opened her present, it seemed. His face was still, neither smiling nor frowning, and Jahrra was certain she had detected more movement in her painting of Phrym.

When her heart decided to start working again it sank all the way to the tips of her toes. He hated it. Jaax was appalled with her gift. Of course he would be; what kind of a dragon wore jewelry? Jahrra kicked herself mentally, trying to convince herself that the tears she felt prickling her eyes were a result of her painting and sword. But really, if she was being truly honest with herself, they were the remains of bitter disappointment. How could she have misjudged her guardian so terribly? This only proved how little she knew him, even after spending months as his ward. How could he always know what she would like, but she couldn’t even pick out a Solsticetide gift for him without messing it up?

She wished she could claim tiredness and dart up the stairs to the sanctuary of her room but that wasn’t possible.

“Raejaax, what did Jahrra get for you?” Neira’s kind voice shattered Jahrra’s despair like a stone through glass.

Slowly, he scooped a claw into the box and brought the ring out into the light of the fire and what candles had not burned themselves out on the walls.

Jahrra cringed and started curling up into a ball. He was afraid to touch it.

Neira gasped as the firelight glinted off of the stone, scattering reflections of its blue and green facets across the room.

“Is that a spirit stone?!” she gasped in wonder as she cast her large brown eyes onto Jahrra. “Oh Jahrra, what a gift!”

Too bad she hadn’t had the ring made for Neira. The pure wonder and awe in her voice proved how much she appreciated it.

Finally, Jahrra faced her fears and glanced up at Jaax. He no longer looked at the ring but right at her, and if she didn’t know any better, she would have said his eyes were shining. It was such an unusual look from Jaax that she didn’t know what to do. He no longer seemed to be treating the ring as if it were a month-dead skunk. Instead, he turned it on the tip of his middle finger, examining it closely.

“Did you design this yourself Jahrra?” he finally said, his voice so quiet she had barely noticed it.

“Yes,” she answered back, just as quietly, still curled up in her chair.

He slipped the ring onto his finger and Jahrra watched in amazement as the stone flashed once before the metal of the ring seemed to glow as it grew, stone and all, slightly smaller to fit snuggly on his middle toe. Jahrra smiled, despite herself. Jaax may not think it was the greatest gift in the world but he was wearing it, and its design and colors did seem to fit him so well.

The dragon caught her eyes again and said, “No one has ever given me something as wonderful as this Jahrra.”

His words warmed her, but sent a chill down her spine nonetheless. This was the best gift he had ever received? Truly? Jahrra was torn between being proud of her purchase and saddened by the fact that, despite Jaax’s age, he had never felt as touched by an act of kindness as he claimed to feel now. Jahrra shook her head and focused on the real issue at hand. He liked her gift. He didn’t hate it.

She smiled up at him, slowly uncurling from her defensive position.

“Thank you,” he said. “I don’t know how you afforded such a gift on the allowance I give you, but I will not ask.”

Jahrra blanched then relaxed. That was a close one, and a first. She beamed even more brightly. He must really like the ring if he was going to forget it cost a small fortune when he’d only given her a fraction of such a sum in the seven months they’d been in Lidien.

Eventually the fire died down and Jahrra grew tired. After the awe and excitement of their gift exchange had worn off, they spent the next few hours telling Solstice stories, with Neira pulling out a small stringed instrument she strummed along with the tales of old. Around midnight, Jahrra found that she couldn’t keep her eyes open any longer. Neira nodded agreement and shuffled off to the kitchen as Jahrra scooped up her sword and portrait of Phrym and headed towards the hallway. As she placed her foot on the first step she heard someone call out her name.

Freezing, she turned to find Jaax only a few feet away from her. She glanced down, her emotions still feeling raw for some reason about the spirit ring, and found herself looking at said ring, resting nicely on her guardian’s right foot. The tiny speck of red near the center of the stone winked brightly and then faded again. Jahrra blinked and shook her head, deciding it was her imagination.

“Thank you for the sword,” she blurted in order to fill the awkward silence.

Jaax merely smiled. “A sword can be created with mere steel and labor,” he answered. “But a spirit stone comes from the heart.”

Jahrra shrugged, not knowing what to say. Jaax lowered his head so that she was forced to look him in the eye.

“I will treasure this always,” he lifted the foot with the ring, “for it is proof that you finally trust me.”

With that, he turned and slowly walked back down the dark hallway, disappearing through the door to his study.

Jahrra merely stared after him as if someone had punched her in the stomach. Of course she trusted Jaax; she had for a long time. But hadn’t he known that? Apparently not, for he just admitted as much. And how did giving him a ring for Solsticetide prove she trusted him?

Sighing, Jahrra turned back around and climbed the stairs. Her brain was too overworked to do much thinking tonight so she quickly slipped into her night clothes and fell into bed, hardly registering the touch of her pillow against her cheek before she was asleep.

-Chapter Seventeen-

A Misunderstanding and a an Apology to Match

Two days after Solsticetide Jahrra was still slightly befuddled by Jaax’s reaction to her gift, but today she was determined to forget all about the inner workings of her guardian’s mind. It was her birthday after all and she wanted a day free of conundrums. Unfortunately, her over-active mind didn’t feel the same way. Her memory of the run-in with the saffron-haired Mystic from a few weeks earlier was being particularly stubborn. Like a spider web she had walked through, the details of that day in the Witching District continued to stick to her no matter how many strands she managed to pull off. If she ever saw the woman again, or her korehv for that matter, she wouldn’t leave their sight until she got some answers.

Thoughts of Kehllor also sprang up fresh for some odd reason. A pang of guilt had hit her the other day when something Jaax said reminded her of the younger Tanaan dragon. She hadn’t seen him since Sobledthe nearly a month ago.

Well, she had seen him at the handful of Coalition

meetings she tried not to sleep through, but she never was able to catch him outside of Essýel Auditorium for a chat. She had promised herself she would somehow wean him away from Shiroxx, yet she’d been so distracted by school and nervous over the spirit stone ring that she had put her grand plans aside and had completely forgotten about the golden dragon.

A soft knock at the door invaded her reverie. At first she thought it was her imagination but the knock came again, this time with a greeting, “Jahrra? Are you awake?”

Jahrra breathed a sigh of relief, glad that Neira had rescued her from her scattered thoughts.

“I’m awake,” she responded, rubbing her face and yawning, “you can come in.”

Neira opened the door with her usual gentle grace, balancing a rather sizeable box on her forearms.

“What’s that?” Jahrra asked, standing from her chair and forgetting her musings for now.

Neira grinned brightly. “Why, your birthday present from your guardian of course!”

Jahrra froze and then felt her stomach churn with caution. It suddenly occurred to her what sorts of things came in boxes of this size and shape.

“What?” she said in a harsh whisper, glancing inquiringly at the woman beside her.

“I had to keep it secret,” the maid replied, faltering just a bit. “Raejaax insisted that I not say a word to you until this very moment. He wanted to surprise you.”

Jahrra groaned. Surprises from Jaax were never good.

“Aren’t you going to open it?” Neira said, keeping a cap on the excitement in her voice.

Jahrra took a deep breath and reined in her own anxiety about what she knew she would find inside. “You know, you could tell him that the sword was enough. I don’t need a Solsticetide gift and a birthday gift.”

Neira brushed Jahrra’s comment aside with a lady-like snort. “Oh please!” she said, “It’s not as if you are a child anymore. You’re eighteen today, practically a woman! That deserves a separate gift.”

Jahrra gritted her teeth and tried to see things from Neira’s point of view. No, it was still a little bit excessive, she thought, but the look in the maid’s eyes implored her to treat the wrapped box as if it was everything Jahrra had been hoping for upon waking that morning.

Biting her cheek she took the end of the ribbon with one hand and undid the bow. She stopped for a moment, not wanting to continue.

“Oh, come on now! I’m dying to see it! Master Jaax wouldn’t even let me look at it when I went to pick it up yesterday. Made me swear up and down. He was afraid I’d tell you before this morning!”

Jahrra closed her eyes and held her breath. She lifted the lid of the box and pulled it off. Neira gasped in feminine appreciation.

“Oh Jahrra, it’s beautiful!” She sounded almost envious, if Neira was capable of such a selfish emotion.

Jahrra braved a glance and dropped the lid of the box in numb surprise. It was a dress, as she had guessed, but it wasn’t at all what she had been expecting.

Neira pulled it out of the box, unfolding it as she did so, and draped it across the bed. The few gowns that Jaax had insisted on ordering for her important appointments and meetings with the Coalition were made of fine materials, but simple and unadorned. In her opinion: practical. The dress sitting in the box that perched upon the edge of her bed was nothing like the others. The skirts were twice as full and the cool teal fabric was thick and lustrous, like seaweed dancing just below the surface of a sun-gilded sea. The bodice matched the rich fabric of the overskirt, a swirling pattern of gold embroidery against pale turquoise and embellished with tiny glass beads. The sleeves, made from the same fabric as the underskirt, were loose and long with cuffs that tied at her wrists.

It was an elegant piece of clothing, far more grand than anything Jahrra had ever owned, and she found herself admiring it more than she would like to admit. I think, she said to her innermost self, the part of herself that was always honest, I just might wear this overly ornate dress without being asked by Jaax or some other important diplomat.

“That dragon sure knows how to meet your standards,” Neira said, her attention still on the dress.

Jahrra gave her a wavering look but shrugged the comment off. She felt suddenly odd standing there in her night clothes, her hair a mess and her face pale. Going against her usual instincts she held the dress up in front of her, as if seeing what it would look like if she were to wear it. Her arms prickled in goose bumps against her will. When did she start liking fine dresses? She shook her head. It must be a result of her lack of sleep and her over worked mind.

As she admired the rich colors and the fine needlework on the bodice in the faint candlelight, another thought managed to break through her muddled brain. Why had Jaax bought the dress in the first place? She knew it was for her birthday, of course, but why a dress? He knew she was slightly averted to them, maybe not as much as she had been when she was younger, but she still preferred tunics and pants. And it didn’t matter that this dress seemed to finally be winning her over to the frilly garments. Did he expect her to go around in them from now on? Jahrra snorted to herself, drawing an unusual look from Neira as she kneeled to light the fire.

“Oh, I almost forgot!” Neira said, slapping a hand to her forehead and dropping an armful of kindling. “You are to be bathed and dressed and ready to go an hour before sunset.”

Jahrra started from her contemplative stance. “What?” she sputtered.

Neira grinned as she dusted her hands free of dirt, then folded the dress neatly into the box, replacing the lid with a soft thlunk. “Raejaaxorix told me to tell you.”

“Why doesn’t he tell me himself?” Jahrra gritted.

What was he up to? She had nothing against surprises, truly, she didn’t, but the types of surprises she’d been experiencing lately weren’t the most joyful of events. And she especially feared surprises from Jaax. Did this have anything to do with the spirit stone?

Jahrra felt suddenly nervous. Had he lied? Did he just tell her he liked it? Or worse, had he done some investigating yesterday only to discover where Jahrra had purchased the ring? Had the jeweler told him how much she spent? Jahrra’s stomach churned.

“He wouldn’t tell me. Like the dress, it’s all a big secret,” Neira rattled off as she returned to the fireplace.

Jahrra sank onto the bed. She hated it when Jaax got like this. “I might have plans,” she said. “My friends might want to take me out. It is my eighteenth birthday after all.”

Torrell had offered to take her out to lunch later but she had declined, knowing that her friend’s extended family was still in town. Instead, Jahrra planned to go riding along one of the trails just outside of the city walls.

“Just make sure that whatever you do it gets done in time for you to be ready this afternoon,” Neira responded in her usual cheerful way as she gathered a bundle of dirty clothes to take to the laundry.

Jahrra groaned and fell back onto the bed. Why did Jaax have to make everything so difficult? And why didn’t he just tell her all this yesterday afternoon before he’d left for some business meeting last night? So I couldn’t tell him no, Jahrra told herself bitterly. If she refused to follow along now it would make Neira look bad since the housemaid would consider it her specific duty to follow through with Jaax’s orders.

Grumbling, Jahrra got dressed and decided to make use of the morning. She spent most of the day as she had planned: riding Phrym along the horse trails in the wooded areas just outside Lidien’s walls. By the time she and her semequin had their fill of the fine winter weather she returned him to his stable and began her walk back home, noting that the sun was low in the western sky.

Neira was waiting for her when she walked through the door.

“Oh, thank goodness!” she chirped, taking Jahrra by the shoulders and directing her up the stairs. “I was worried you might have decided to disobey your guardian.”

Jahrra tried not to be irritated at the assumption. After all, she hadn’t fought with Jaax in weeks, if not months, but tonight just might bring out the old rebel in her once again. She had tried all afternoon not to be annoyed at the whole situation. Jaax hadn’t ordered her to do anything in such a long time that she had thought the arrogant side of him had finally been appeased.

They breached the top of the stairs and turned down the hallway and headed towards the washroom. Upon entering, Jahrra noticed that the copper tub was already half full of steaming water. Despite her reluctance at the idea of getting ready, Jahrra was eager for a bath.

Neira left to attend to house chores while Jahrra relaxed in the hot, soapy water. Halfway through her bath she heard the approach of a small party and the quiet chatter of voices.

Wrapping a towel around herself, Jahrra crept into the hallway and peered out one of the open windows facing the patio. She caught a glimpse of her guardian standing in front of the house, nodding his head at what looked like a group of elvin and Resai men. Jahrra thought the diplomats sounded urgent, as if they were pleading with Jaax about one thing or another. They rocked on their feet nervously, their long cloaks sweeping over the crushed gravel of the drive, several of them wringing their hands with imploring looks in their eyes. Jahrra wondered what they wanted.

“I cannot spare any more time for this issue tonight, gentlemen.” Jaax’s voice rose enough for Jahrra to hear him. “I have important plans this evening and I cannot cancel them for any reason. Perhaps we can meet in the morning?”

Jahrra caught a glimpse of a weak nod from who she assumed was the group’s spokesperson.

“Don’t worry,” Jaax reassured the group, “your concern is valid and you have good reason for it, but I assure you nothing will come of it during the night. Now if you’ll excuse me, I am already late for my next appointment.”

The men ducked their heads in gratitude and then gathered themselves together, walking back down the lane in quiet discussion. Jahrra returned to the wash room and tried to relax back into her bath, but the urgency of the men’s muffled voices worried her. Was there really a problem? Or did everyone consider their problem to be of utmost importance and in need of the earliest remedy? Jahrra popped one of the bath bubbles and told herself that if there truly was an emergency, Jaax would take care of it as he always did. The issue, whatever it was, must not be all that imperative.

Finally, the water grew too tepid to enjoy. Checking to make sure she was entirely clean, Jahrra stepped out of the tub and wrapped herself in her towel once again as she headed to her own room down the hall. Her damp feet left footprints on the pale stone floor as she moved quietly to her bed. Using one hand to secure the towel, she reached out and fingered the shimmery dress that Neira had laid out for her. She didn’t know why she liked this garment so much when before she had hated dresses with a passion. Perhaps it’s because I’m getting older, she mused, or maybe I know that I can still wear my other clothes and not just dresses.

The sound of the door swinging open startled her. She quickly stood rigid, wheeling around to find Neira holding two more boxes. The woman grinned broadly and stepped forward. “The rest of your birthday present,” she said gently.

Jahrra blinked in surprise. This was all supposed to be for her birthday? Then she remembered the conversation she’d heard from the window. Jaax had told the men below that he had an important meeting that could not be cancelled tonight. Jahrra was certain it would include her, hadn’t Neira said so earlier? Was Jaax trying to make up for whatever he was going to drag her to tonight by buying her gifts? Jahrra suddenly felt ill. She didn’t like that conclusion; it meant that whatever business Jaax had tonight would be excruciatingly tedious.

Sighing, she slumped on the bed next to her beautiful dress, clutching the towel closely. Neira came forward with the boxes, setting them on her desk instead.

“Why so forlorn?” Neira asked, taking a seat next to Jahrra.

“I thought I’d met everyone of importance already. I hate being taken before dignitaries and clan elders and the like and flaunted like some all-powerful weapon,” she admitted.

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.

Jahrra was suddenly overwhelmed with the vastness of this place and found herself leaning against Jaax’s foreleg for support.

“Well, do you like it?” the dragon inquired quietly, his head dropped low so that only Jahrra could hear.

“It’s, it’s amazing,” she breathed, her eyes still wide with wonder as she continued to take it all in.

Behind the stage there stood another wall, painted and adorned to look like a castle. Colorful fabric, flowing easily in the light wind, drifted in front of the torches, catching the light of the flames and turning it crimson, gold and azure. To her surprise, Jahrra heard the voices of the people sitting several seats below them, drifting up to her and sounding as if they were standing just beside her.

Jahrra cleared her throat. “So, who is it we are meeting tonight?” she braved, “Must be someone important for you to go to all this trouble.”

She stepped away from Jaax and nodded her head towards the stage far below, then gestured to her own dress.

Jaax gave her one of his looks. Jahrra knew this look very well; it was the look that had just enough question in it to make the overbearing condescension seem almost obsolete.

Before Jaax could say something cutting, she continued on, “You only ever take me out dressed up if you wish to introduce me to some diplomat or relative of some royal somewhere, so I was wondering who we were meeting tonight, that’s all.”

Jaax straightened and returned his gaze to the scene in front of him. His eyes had grown hard again and Jahrra bit her cheek.

“I mean, we’ve been in Lidien for several months, and I figured I had met all the Coalition members by now, but then again most of you keep busy with affairs outside of Felldreim, so it’s possible there are still people I haven’t met . . .”

“Jahrra,” he said softly, forcing her to stop her babbling, “have I ever taken you to meet anyone of any importance without first telling you who it was we were going to see?”

Jahrra felt herself deflate. He was right; he had always prepared her for those meetings.

“No,” she said, then added tentatively, “so, we’re not meeting anyone then?”

“No.”

“Then why the dress? Why the play and the fancy dagger?”

Jaax turned then and gave her a sharp glance, his emerald eyes looking on the verge of anger. “Jahrra, what day is it?”

She actually had to think about it, then she felt her face flush and then burn as she slumped with sudden realization. It was her birthday. Jaax had done all of this for her birthday? If she hadn’t felt awkward before she sure felt so now.

Jaax tilted his head so that she would know he was talking to her. Not that he needed to. “Despite what you think, I am very much capable of kindness Jahrra. Kindness for the sake of kindness and not for the sake of gaining anything because of it.”

His voice was rough again and Jahrra cringed. She braved a look at his face, expecting to find anger. She found some anger in his eyes, yes, but there was more hurt there than anything else.

Jahrra sighed, feeling unbearably ashamed of herself and pained that she had taken Jaax’s gift as something other than what it was.

“I’m sorry,” she said in complete sincerity. “I love the dagger and I can’t wait to see the play. I even like the dress, and you know how I feel about dresses. I really, truly do.”

“May I help you to your seats?”

Jahrra was interrupted as an energetic attendant appeared before them.

“Yes, that would be most helpful, thank you,” Jaax responded with pure politeness.

As they made their way across the top of the theater, Jahrra tried to reconcile herself with her reaction to Jaax’s generous birthday gift. She was angry with herself for making assumptions and promised herself she would never do it again. The theater attendant, a young man with auburn hair, led them to one of the upper corners of the theater. Jahrra wondered why they were seated so far from the stage but when she spotted the other dragons perched along the ridge from one end to the next, she realized that this was the only place that she and Jaax could sit without disturbing the other patrons.

Jaax thanked the young man again and in the next moment he was off to find more lost theater goers. Jahrra sat down upon the great stone steps, mimicking those around her. Jaax, being the great Tanaan dragon that he was, settled down on the flat earth just behind her. Jahrra felt unease creep up on her again and she wondered if Jaax had accepted her haphazard apology. At the moment he was being typically quiet. How he could sit among others and remain so silent was beyond her, but she was determined to remain so if her guardian did.

Several minutes passed and Jahrra busied herself with watching the arriving crowd to pass the time and keep her thoughts off of her battered conscience. It was chilly out, what with it being evening and the beginning of winter, so she wrapped her new cloak more tightly around her. The cloak Jaax had given her for her birthday.

Casting that thought away, Jahrra focused once again on those gathering for the play. There were plenty of elves, Resai and Nesnans present. Several centaurs and cenikets took up the section just below the dragons, while a few people belonging to other races she didn’t recognize sat intermingled with everyone else.

On the other end of the sitting area Jahrra caught a glimpse of gold. Her heart leapt to her throat when a familiar, scarred Tanaan dragon settled down to watch the play. She was just about to stand up and try to catch Kehllor’s attention when two other Tanaan joined him. Jahrra sank back to her seat with a dreadful knot of displeasure churning in her stomach at the sight of the red and black dragons. She watched as Shiroxx spoke to Kehllor, the younger dragon giving a stiff nod every now and again, his eyes stubbornly trained forward. Rohdann, as usual, sat quietly, surveying their surroundings like a great, doleful raven.

Jahrra watched them, her eyes narrowing. All of her determination to free Kehllor from Shiroxx’s grasp surfaced once again. It was at that moment that the red dragon turned her eyes in Jahrra’s direction. She had that wicked grin on her face but as soon as she spotted Jahrra, then Jaax just beside her, the ease in her eyes vanished and was replaced with fiery scorn. She whispered something to Rohdann and the black dragon eyed her with those icy eyes of his.

Jahrra grinned despite the uncomfortable feeling Shiroxx and Rohdann gave her every time they looked her way. Perhaps at some point tonight she would get a chance to talk to Kehllor alone, especially if Jaax was there to distract Shiroxx . . . Jahrra bit the inside of her cheek in shame. What was she thinking, imagining playing such games? She would be no better than Shiroxx if she took advantage of the female dragon’s weaknesses. And to use Jaax so blatantly, after all he had done for her tonight? She shook her head, casting such thoughts away as one would scrape leeches off their skin.

“Complimentary opera glasses for your enjoyment?”

Jahrra jumped. It was another usher who spoke, this one holding a box full of what looked like small binoculars.

“Thank you,” Jahrra said, taking the one he offered gingerly. She heard the young man repeat the same inquiry to Jaax, but she knew her guardian would decline. Dragons didn’t need any aids for their eyesight.

As the usher walked away, Jahrra was determined not to glance back at the three dragons perched at the opposite end of the hilltop. Instead, she eyed the seats around her, wondering why they were empty. She turned to ask Jaax, grateful for something to say to break the strained silence between them.

“Do you see the short wall surrounding the area where you sit?” he asked in response to her question, his voice sounding bored.

Jahrra nodded.

“And did you notice how this area is a little higher than the area around us?”

Again, Jahrra nodded in agreement.

“This is one of the best sitting areas in the theater. There are two more,” he nodded to two other small platforms, the one occupied by Shiroxx and her gang and one in the middle of the top of the theater, “but I have always preferred this one. No one else will be sitting near us.”

Jaax said nothing more but returned to his stony position and Jahrra found no need to ask any more questions. Gratefully, the sound of trumpets put an end to their silent conversation. The great crowd, which had been chattering comfortably all around them, gradually ceased their talking as their eyes were drawn to the stage.

The circle far below them lit up as the props seemed to come alive. Jahrra nearly gasped when what she thought was a potted tree sprung forward and revealed itself to be one of the actors. The activity only increased from there. With the aid of a variety of instruments coming from some unknown location, the performers danced about the stage, twirling and leaping to almost impossible heights. Jahrra was riveted, her wayward thoughts about Tanaan dragons of every sort forgotten.

Torches flared for effect and the light pouring onto the stage shifted and changed color, making Jahrra suspect that magic was involved. Suddenly, voices were added to the lively music as several costumed people began singing a Sobledthe ballad.

Jahrra recognized several creatures Denaeh and Hroombra had once told her about, including the grouldahs she, Gieaun and Scede had once dressed as for the Fall Festival. The demons and denizens of the dark drifted about on a stage alit in shades of red, yellow and orange.

Gradually, the quick pace of the autumn song slowed and molded into a slower, crisper tune. The creatures of Sobledthe poured off of the stage or melted into the scenery and in their wake came several more performers wearing the blue, white and silver mantle of winter. Jahrra gaped.

The transformation had been so quick but it had also been smooth, as smooth as the passage of time between seasons. Following winter came spring, the actors adorned in greens and pastels, the music becoming sweeter and lighter. Finally came summer, the colors growing bolder and the music more languid. The scene concluded on a rather dramatic note with the fall denizens returning once again, crawling out from the scenery and frightening those of summer into the dark corners of the stage. The music stopped and everyone froze. Jahrra released a breath, not realizing she had been holding it.

The stage fell into darkness and a moment later the torchlight rose again to reveal a space empty of performers but filled with what looked like glittering stars. The music, which had slowed and all but disappeared, began to grow louder once again, playing a rather desolate tune, the violins gaining dominance over the flutes and other wind and stringed instruments.

A small glowing light, pale green in color, began growing off to one side of the stage. A figure stepped forward, a figure wearing an incredibly ornate, green gown. There was something strange about the costume and Jahrra wished she could see it better. Then she remembered the theater glasses in her hand. With their aid she could see the dress very clearly. The skirts were full with sleeves draping to the ground. Sewn over the entirety of the dress were streams of blue and silver fabric all patterned with vines and flowers. The woman wearing the dress began to sing a sad, sorrowful song and Jahrra realized with a strange thrill that this woman was playing the part of Ethöes, floating through the Great Expanse before the beginning of their world.

Jahrra wondered where Haelionn was but before she could contemplate it much further a golden light began to glow at the other end of the stage and a male figure, clad in brilliant yellows and golds, came forth upon the stage, singing his own tune. His song was morose at first but soon he and Ethöes spotted one another and their voices mingled, their song becoming more cheerful. The music followed them and Jahrra looked at them closely. They were both very beautiful, she noted, the makeup and glitter they wore adding to the effect.

The music started to change as more instruments joined the violins. Trumpets blared and the woman who portrayed Ethöes threw up her arm. Jahrra nearly shouted in delight. A burst of fiery sparks erupted then fizzled out and in their place a pale blue beam of light flooded part of the stage. The broad sliver was soon occupied by several water nymphs that danced and rejoiced.

The trumpets sounded again, along with cymbals, and Ethöes brought forth another aspect of the world, this time green light and plants, all the while clasping hands with a faithful Haelionn. Mountains and hills followed the plants, then the animals arrived with a scene of plains and deserts and valleys.

Jahrra was overwhelmed by the beauty of it all. The music had grown faster, working its way up to a grand finale. Everyone was dancing in full light now, dancing around Haelionn and Ethöes, forming great circles of creatures and landforms clasping hands, one circle moving in the opposite direction of the one in front of it.

The entire cast was singing now, their voices strong and joyful and perfect. With a final clash of cymbals and blast of trumpets the voices ceased and everyone stilled. Jahrra realized with delighted awe that she had just witnessed the creation of the world, or as close to a reenactment as anyone could get.

The lights dimmed and the play went on. The minutes flew by, Jahrra barely taking heed of them or her surroundings. It was full night now and growing rather chilly but she hadn’t noticed. The stories unfolding below were too wonderful to be ruined by something as insignificant as a change in temperature.

All of the tales she had known growing up were coming to life down on that stage, coming to life in a way Jahrra had never imagined. The performers were now acting out the great epic of Traagien and Ciarrohn’s first defeat. Both the dragon and the evil god were immense; great puppets controlled by several of the performers backstage. Ciarrohn looked as terrifying as anyone could create him and Jahrra was vaguely reminded of the dark presence that had, at one time, haunted her dreams. When the great green and gold dragon that was Traagien cast his foe to the ground, she released a small triumphant cry of victory with everyone else.

The play continued on like this, a brilliant blend of all the ancient tales of Ethöes unfolding like a three dimensional story book. Jahrra was enraptured by it all; completely unable to keep her eyes off the stage for fear that she might miss something. When a young usher approached her, inquiring whether she would like to purchase some spiced nuts, it took him three attempts before he finally got her attention.

When the performers took on the guise of soldiers and began a march across the stage towards the dark figure of Ciarrohn once again, Jahrra turned to ask Jaax a question. She thought that they were now going to reenact the fall of the Tanaan, for the green-clad warriors were led by a fair-haired young man wearing the armor of a prince. Only, when Jahrra glanced up she realized that the great dragon was gone.

Blinking in surprise, she looked around but all she saw was the occasional usher helping a patron to their seat. Jahrra stood and gazed into the darkness behind her and there, just on the outer edges of the furthest reach of the torchlight, she saw the distinct shape of a dragon moving away from the theater.

Jahrra turned back to the stage, a fully fledged battle ensuing between the men of Oescienne and the Morli dragons of Ciarrohn. She wanted to see the rest of the play, for it had been the best performance she had ever seen in her life, but this scene in particular sat poorly in her stomach for some reason or another.

She sighed, definitely torn. She probably shouldn’t go chasing after Jaax; surely there was a reason why he’d crept away without her knowledge. Yet she had detected something in his stance, despite the night’s best efforts to hide him in its shadows. She reached down and clasped the scale hanging from the chain around her neck. Or maybe the spirit stone he wore had somehow told her of her guardian’s morose mood. The elves had used magic to create it, after all. Who was she to think she knew exactly how they worked?

Taking a breath and making up her mind, Jahrra turned her back to the stage, a scene of men now being transformed into Tanaan dragons with the help of some clever shadows cast against the back wall, and climbed the few steps to the very top of the theater.

The cold air stung her throat as she breathed and as she made her way to where she saw Jaax heading, she pulled her cloak fast around her. One of the young men holding a torch asked if Jahrra would like some company to provide light. She politely turned him down. The moon had been full just before Solsticetide and it still gave off quite a bit of brightness.

Despite the aid of the moon, if she hadn’t known in which direction Jaax had headed Jahrra never would have found him. She came over a small rise on the top of the hill and glanced around below her. Most of the hillside was composed of scattered pine but to her right there was a break in the trees and what looked like a large outcropping of stone. Jahrra knew better. She made her way down the gentle slope, careful not to snag her skirts or get her boots too dirty.

“So,” she breathed, her breath coming faster because of the cold and the effort to get there, “thought you could leave me stranded, did you?”

The pile of stones that was Jaax started and swiveled his head in Jahrra’s direction. His eyes, shining strangely in the moonlight, looked genuinely surprised. Jahrra grinned. That was a rare expression on this dragon’s face, a very rare expression indeed.

“Why aren’t you back watching the end of the play?” he asked.

Jahrra shrugged and sat down upon a protruding stone. “I know that part of the story better than most and I wanted to stretch my legs.”

It was only partly a lie, Jahrra told herself. She didn’t want to admit that for some reason the defeat of the Tanaan affected her more than the other stories of Ciarrohn’s cruelty. After all, they had been human once; her people.

“Do you mind if I sit here?” she asked by way of filling the silence.

Jaax gave a quick shake of his head and Jahrra settled in more comfortably. For several minutes they just stared at the moon-bleached stars in silence, Jahrra wondering what Jaax was thinking and wondering why he’d come out here to sit by himself. But she knew better than to ask.

“You don’t have to sit so far away Jahrra,” Jaax said, not taking his eyes off of the sky.

“Huh?” she said, pulling her cloak tight again.

“You’re shivering. I don’t want you to freeze to death.”

Jahrra rolled her eyes. It seemed her guardian was back to his usual patronizing self but at least she caught a little hint of amusement in his voice. Maybe he had forgiven her earlier rudeness and assumptions after all.

Grumbling about bossy dragons and the cold, she scooted closer to him, leaning her back against the side of his shoulder. His natural warmth immediately took effect and Jahrra started to relax. After several minutes more, she worked up the gumption to ask him the question that had been the reason for her coming out here to begin with.

“Jaax,” she said tentatively, her voice holding the weariness that was now causing her eyes to drift closed, “why did you leave the play?”

Jahrra tried to gauge his reaction to her question, but as always the dragon remained still. Finally, he sighed and answered, “I do not like to be reminded of the fall of the Tanaan.”

She was surprised at his response. Coming fully awake, but continuing to lean against him, she considered this. She had suspected that was why he’d left, but she had never expected him to be completely honest about it. She imagined he would make some excuse, like he couldn’t sit that long without getting up to move around or that the music and lights of the performance had taken a toll and he needed to get away from it for a bit.

Swallowing and pushing her luck, Jahrra whispered, “Why?”

It bothered her as well and she wondered if it was for the same reasons it bothered Jaax.

The Tanaan dragon took a deep breath and answered, “Because I don’t like to be reminded of what my ancestors suffered.”

So he has the same opinion as me, Jahrra thought.

“And because it reminds me that Ciarrohn’s curse is still holding strong onto so many of us. And because it means you are alone in this world.”

She almost didn’t hear those last few words but luckily there were no other sounds to block them out. Jahrra stiffened. Yes, she was the only human being in this world but Jaax was wrong.

“I’m not alone,” she whispered as her eyes drifted shut. “I had my mother and father and Hroombra. I still have Gieaun and Scede and Phrym. I have Torrell, Senton, Dathian and Neira. And I have you. Not human but still my friends; my family.”

She understood what her guardian had been trying to say, but despite the fact that there was no one else on Ethöes like her, she was not without loved ones. She sighed and drew herself closer to Jaax, grateful that he was so warm. The music from the performance was far enough away that it wasn’t overbearing but she could still hear it. The dark, dramatic tones of earlier had stopped and what sounded like a hopeful song began to play, its sweet notes dancing through the night. An owl hooted somewhere nearby and Jahrra let her eyes drift shut.

She was only going to doze, she told herself, but before she fell asleep she yawned one last time and mumbled, “Thank you Jaax. I think this is the best birthday I’ve ever had.”

“You’re welcome Jahrra.”

And then she was asleep.

-Chapter Eighteen-

An Unexpected Caller

Jahrra couldn’t remember how she got home the night of her birthday but she was sure Jaax hadn’t managed it on his own. She could vaguely recall stumbling half-asleep to the carriage and then later Neira helping her inside and up the stairs. Other than that, it was all a blur. Except for the play itself, of course. That particular experience would be burned into her memory for all eternity. The splendid light show combined with the realistic and ornate costumes would forever leave an impression in her mind.

Jahrra sighed heavily and glanced out her bedroom window as she recalled the weeks-old memory. It had been over a month since the new school term had started and she was stuck inside because of the constant rain. She loved the rain but it had been coming down for several days now and she was desperate to take Phrym out for a ride. Instead, she sat at her desk working on an essay that was due mid-way through the week.

A knock at the door brought Jahrra’s pen to a stop.

“Jahrra?” Neira’s voice sounded muffled through the wooden door. “You have a visitor down in the great room.”

Jahrra drew her eyebrows together. Torrell and Senton should be locked away writing their own essays and Dathian had a meeting with someone from the Coalition, so who else could be out to visit her on such a dismal morning?

Setting her quill down beside her pile of parchment, Jahrra pushed the chair away and stood. She was wearing her typical loose pants and an old tunic, what she always wore while at home. What if this visitor was one of Jaax’s political friends? Would what she was wearing be considered an insult? A few of his associates had met him at home before but Jahrra had been warned beforehand that they were coming. She shook her head as she moved towards the door. If someone was going to come calling on a stormy morning without sending a message ahead, they shouldn’t expect someone to be dressed in their best when they arrived.

Jahrra pulled the door open only to find Neira’s narrow face. “Who is it?” she whispered.

Neira shook her head. “That dragoness, the one who’s acquainted with Master Jaax.”

Jahrra felt an icicle form in her throat. She swallowed, the imaginary icicle traveling down to settle in the pit of her stomach. The last time she had seen Shiroxx was at the play on her birthday, nearly two months ago. She hadn’t shown up to the last few Coalition meetings, the only ones Jahrra had managed to attend what with her busy school schedule, but then again neither had Kehllor.

“Oh,” was all she said, bringing herself back to the present. “I’ll be down in just a moment.”

Without waiting for a reply Jahrra shut the door and nearly ran to her wardrobe. Jaax had made it clear before that she was to treat Shiroxx with respect and as much as Jahrra disliked the other dragon, she felt it wisest if she listened to her guardian in this manner, especially in his own home. She knew Shiroxx to be cunning and manipulative and she didn’t want anything she did or said (or didn’t do or didn’t say) to be ‘misinterpreted’ by the red Tanaan dragon and reported back to Jaax.

Picking her most casual dress, Jahrra set about changing. Luckily, this garment didn’t require Neira’s help getting into. As she tied the strings down the front of the bodice Jahrra secretly cursed Shiroxx. Ugh, forcing me to get into a dress! And on a morning like this. What could she possibly want?

Jahrra pulled the tie out of her hair and ran her brush through it several times. Satisfied that the knots were gone, she threw the brush back onto her vanity and grabbed a pair of slippers to match the dress. She hurried down the stairs, only to slow her pace as she approached the hallway leading into the great room. Taking a deep breath, Jahrra stood tall and proud and stepped through the arched entryway.

Shiroxx was sitting in front of the fire, as languid as a contemplative cat. Although not quite as big as Jaax, she was still an imposing figure. Jahrra told herself it was the female dragon’s personality that made her seem so overwhelming. The crackle of the fire and the light tapping of her shoes accompanied her across the room. Shiroxx only sat twenty feet or so from the hallway but to Jahrra it felt like a hundred yards.

“Good morning, Shiroxx,” Jahrra said, clearing her throat.

The dragon lifted a delicate brow and smiled, a smile not so unlike the ones Jaax gave her on those rare occasions when she was being particularly ornery.

When the female dragon said nothing Jahrra continued, her voice wavering slightly, “What brings you out and about so early, and on such a day?”

“Oh, it isn’t all that early,” she replied in that voice of hers, “and the weather rarely affects us dragons.”

“Yes, that’s right,” Jahrra responded, biting her cheek in slight annoyance. I will not let her get to me, I will not let her get to me, I will not let her get to me . . .

“As to why I’m here,” she continued, “well, I was in the neighborhood and thought I’d drop by to pay a visit to Jaax and his ward.”

Jahrra blinked stupidly but pounced on the opportunity to get rid of the tiresome dragon. “Oh, well, Jaax isn’t in. He left early this morning and won’t be back for a few more days.”

Jahrra’s guardian had flown to Nimbronia to speak with the king of the Creecemind dragons two days ago. He’d surprised her by telling her this, for usually Jaax withheld any and all details. When she asked what he would be discussing with the king he had surprised her further by admitting his business had to do with her and when the people of Nimbronia should expect a visit.

“You’re no longer a child Jahrra and there is no reason why you shouldn’t know,” he’d said.

Jahrra had rejoiced in secret. It felt nice to be trusted, even if that particular bit of information wasn’t top-secret.

Shiroxx’s head perked up and she looked at Jahrra with a renewed spark in her eye. After years of interpreting Jaax’s responses, Jahrra picked up on the change right away despite the female dragon’s relaxed stance.

“Is that so? Where could he possibly have gone to be away for so many days?”

The question sounded innocent but Jahrra knew better. Besides, she promised herself she would keep Jaax’s confidences, not telling a single soul what he told her unless he specifically asked her to. Besides that, she didn’t trust Shiroxx, not one bit.

Jahrra simply shrugged. “I don’t know, he doesn’t really tell me much.”

Shiroxx, looking slightly put out, frowned a little. After a moment she regained her composure and said, “That’s quite alright. We don’t need Jaax in order to have a proper visit, now do we?”

Jahrra tensed. The last thing she wanted to do was to visit with Shiroxx, but she couldn’t be rude.

“No, we don’t,” she said carefully.

“So tell me young Jahrra, how do your studies go?”

And so the two of them began a clipped conversation consisting entirely of small talk. Fortunately, this only lasted for five minutes and when Jahrra thought Shiroxx was preparing to leave, she breathed a mental sigh of relief.

“You know,” the dragon crooned as she made her way towards the door, “it really is a shame that Raejaax doesn’t trust you more. As much as you are expected to accomplish someday you would think he’d let you in on more of exactly what your purpose is in all of this. And his.”

Jahrra felt her face begin to flush. What Shiroxx insinuated was insulting both to Jahrra and Jaax.

“And considering all the time you spend together one would think you would have earned his trust. Makes one wonder what he intends to do with you after all.”

The ‘one’ in question being Shiroxx. Jahrra gritted her teeth. That had been the final straw.

“Thank you, Shiroxx, for visiting me. I will tell Jaax you came by.” Jahrra emphasized her last sentence, her tone of voice making it clear that Jaax would hear about every aspect of this visit.

Shiroxx had the nerve to laugh. “Oh, dearest girl, do not presume to threaten me. Why would Jaax believe you when he can’t even find a good reason to tell you of his whereabouts?”

Jahrra wanted to tell Shiroxx that she did indeed know where Jaax was but that would be futile and she had a nagging feeling that this was just another method of the female dragon’s attempts at dragging information out of her. No, she would not betray her guardian to this sorry excuse of a Tanaan dragon. Besides, she knew Jaax kept much from her, but he had his reasons.

As the red dragoness stepped out into the now lightly falling rain, Jahrra said, “Jaax tells me what I need to know and my acceptance of that is proof enough of my trust.”

Shiroxx narrowed her pale brown eyes and turned to face Jahrra, standing in the open space of the dragon’s door.

“Don’t you want to know Jaax’s secrets Jahrra, hmm?” she crooned in a deadly quiet voice. “I could tell you a few. I know so many of them.”

That claim sprinkled her skin with goose bumps. A year ago she would have leapt at the chance. But she wasn’t that girl anymore and she hoped she never would be again.

“No, I don’t,” she replied, her voice just as low and dangerous, “and they are not your secrets to share. Good day to you.”

Jahrra pushed the large door shut and bolted it, not waiting for a response. She turned on her heel and stormed back towards the stairs that led up to her room. There was no way she would be able to focus on her essay now and the rain was letting up. She really needed to go for a long ride on Phrym. But the muddy roads would be treacherous; perhaps she could just visit him.

Jahrra nearly slammed into Neira as she rounded the corner to head up the stairs.

“I’m sorry!” she said, stopping herself just in time.

“Don’t be,” Neira answered with some spirit, “I heard what that dragon said and I’m proud of your response to her. You handled yourself very well. Your guardian would be very pleased.”

Jahrra sighed. “I wanted to say so many more things, but I bit my tongue.”

“I know, I know, and that’s a hard thing to do with one such as her.”

Neira smiled and Jahrra suddenly felt better. She grinned and continued up the stairs, a spring in her step despite her shaky nerves from the uncomfortable encounter with Shiroxx.

* * *

Jaax was gone nearly a week, giving Jahrra plenty of time to recover from her visit with Shiroxx. With classes and school work to keep her busy, and with the break in the rain giving her many opportunities to take Phrym out, Jahrra found herself thinking about the red dragon’s forward behavior and how she might approach Jaax about it.

In the end, she thought it would be best not to mention it at all. After all, more likely than not, Shiroxx would make light of what she’d said and insinuated, and Jaax would surely accuse Jahrra of being overly sensitive. No, the red dragon was merely trying to bully her way into business not her own, as usual. Hopefully she’d learned that Jahrra wasn’t as easy to bend to her will as she might think.

Jaax arrived home with another bout of rain and Jahrra almost believed he had brought the gloomy weather with him. He did look tired, practically curling up beside the fire on the rather stormy afternoon on the day of his return. Jahrra had come home from school, properly drenched despite the cloak she’d held over herself and her school bag, to find him dozing like a great dog. Upon seeing him Jahrra tiptoed across the stone floor and hung her dripping cloak on the other side of the fire place, then turned to head upstairs.

“Any news I should be aware of?” Jaax’s worn voice said from just behind her.

Jahrra started then turned around. He still looked exhausted but his eyes were fixed on her at the moment. Other than the impromptu visit from Shiroxx, nothing exciting or noteworthy had occurred that week.

Jahrra shook her head. “No, nothing worth repeating.”

Jaax simply nodded, then rested his head on his forelegs. Jahrra didn’t need him to tell her he wished to rest so she turned and bounded up the stairs, hoping to get some studying done before supper.

An hour or so after sunset, Jahrra set aside her quill and books and stretched, cracking her back in the process. She released a great yawn and rubbed her eyes. At least she had made a decent dent in her astronomy and history classes. Pulling on her night slippers, she made her way down the hall and to the stairs, the dim firelight from the candles lining the walls aiding her as she went. As she descended the stairs, the smell of winter stew and freshly baked biscuits wafted her way. Jahrra grinned even as her mouth watered at the enticing scent.

She pushed the swinging door open and stepped into the kitchen, the heat of the oven and the light of several candles and lamps making the room look as if it were on fire.

“How do you always manage to have dinner ready just as my stomach starts growling?” Jahrra asked lightly.

Neira, her brown hair tied back with a scarf and her apron dusted with flower, turned and gave Jahrra a slightly cross look. “Because it knows it will only get fed when I feel like cooking.”

Jahrra let out a laugh and Neira couldn’t help but join her. She picked up a wooden bowl and walked over to the cauldron hanging over the fire, helping herself to the stew.

She carried her bowl across the kitchen, grabbed a spoon and shoved a buttered biscuit into her mouth before heading through the door that led into the great room.

“Very ladylike, Miss Jahrra,” Neira scolded.

Jahrra was saved from coming up with a good retort, seeing as her mouth was full. The fire in the great room was crackling joyfully and the lamps and candles were lit as well. The light reflected off of the glass of the tall windows, the streaks of rain barely visible against the blackness of evening.

Jaax, Jahrra noticed, had already eaten and was sitting comfortably in his raised corner of the room reading a book. She shuffled over, plunking her bowl down onto the table she always used for dining and finally took a real bite out of the biscuit. She savored the buttery flavor before starting in on her stew. Jaax waited until she was done eating before speaking to her.

“How was class today?” he asked.

“Good,” Jahrra responded, intending on ending the conversation there as she leaned back in her chair.

“Merely good?” he pressed.

“Yes,” Jahrra said, “merely good would describe it. But I could say that sword practice with my friends was superb.”

She grinned, recalling earlier that afternoon when she had managed to lock swords with Dathian before tearing his weapon from his hands. Senton had clapped and cheered while Torrell had gaped in surprise.

“Hmm,” Jaax said. Then he took a breath, “I was talking to Neira earlier this evening.”

“Uh huh,” Jahrra said boorishly, tapping her feet as she balanced her chin in the palm of her hand.

“And I asked her the same question I asked you when you got home this afternoon, about any news I might need to know about.”

Jahrra stilled her tapping feet. Where might this be heading . . . ?

“And, funny thing, she informed me there was something that happened earlier this week that was noteworthy enough to tell me.”

Jahrra froze. She knew that tone of voice, that tension in the air. But what could Neira have told him?

“She informed me that you had a visitor early in the morning, two days after I left for Nimbronia to be precise.”

Uh oh. Jaax wasn’t supposed to know about Shiroxx stopping by. Why had Neira said anything? It wasn’t that big of a deal.

Jahrra tried to tell Jaax so but he didn’t seem to be paying attention. He was still reading his stupid book.

“What did you discuss?” he queried.

“Honestly Jaax, she was only here for five minutes,” Jahrra insisted.

She stood up and turned her chair around, sitting in it with the back facing the table and her arms crossed over the top.

Finally, Jaax looked up from the great tome and gave her a hard look. “Five minutes? One minute with Shiroxx can be damaging. Jahrra, I want to know what was said.”

Jahrra heaved a great sigh and tried to remember back to that day. Finally, she repeated, in so many words, what had happened; how Shiroxx had made small talk and then tried to ask her where Jaax had gone. About how she wasn’t pleased when Jahrra wouldn’t give her details. About how she lied and told the other dragon she didn’t know where her guardian had gone.

“What do you mean she wasn’t pleased?” Jaax asked, his voice growing harsher.

Jahrra shrugged. She hated this. She hated repeating the words of others for she was always afraid she would get something wrong and get the other person in trouble. Of course, she wouldn’t mind getting Shiroxx in trouble, but she knew that the female dragon could hold a grudge and for some reason or another she already despised Jahrra. She didn’t need to go about making the red dragon angrier at her.

Finally, she gave in, knowing that Jaax would hound her until he got every last detail out of her. “She tried to say the reason you didn’t tell me your whereabouts was because you didn’t think I was trustworthy.”

Jahrra wasn’t looking at her guardian, so when he slammed the book shut with great force she nearly fell out of her chair. Shocked and afraid he was irate with her once again, she braced the table for support.

“Why did you not tell me of this?” his voice was low, almost a hiss.

Jahrra swallowed and found the gumption to look up. Jaax was angry, there was no doubt about that, but his ire didn’t seem to be aimed at her.

Breathing a small sigh of relief, Jahrra cleared her throat and answered him, “It wasn’t as bad as you think, Jaax. I didn’t want to cause any more trouble with Shiroxx. I thought it best to just let it go.”

Jaax’s eyes smoldered for a bit longer but finally his jaw unclenched and he took a breath. Jahrra couldn’t help notice the tinge of smoke that accompanied it as he exhaled. After that, the room grew deadly silent, the only sound coming from the slight wind and rain outside and the crackle and pop of the fire.

Jahrra felt her dinner churning uncomfortably in her stomach. With a half mumbled complaint of a stomach ache, she scooped up her dirty dishes and headed for the kitchen. Neira was there, cleaning up the mess. Jahrra stopped short when she saw her and the two women locked gazes. It was clear from Neira’s brown eyes that she had heard at least a little of what had been said in the other room.

Neira spoke first, “Jahrra, I’m sorry, I didn’t think you didn’t want that dragon’s visit repeated, or else I never would have said something, but the way she treated you . . .”

Neira always spoke in run-on sentences when she was nervous or frightened or worried.

Jahrra had been slightly angry at first but she reminded herself that she’d never asked Neira to remain silent, so she let her irritation go.

“It’s okay Neira,” she sighed, “you did what you thought was best.”

Neira nodded. “I’ll draw a bath for you then.”

Jahrra shook her head. “Let me help you with the dishes first.”

With both women working it didn’t take long to get the kitchen cleaned up. Jahrra enjoyed her bath afterwards but didn’t linger in the hot water long. She was tired and still a little disheartened by her conversation with Jaax. She sighed and pushed herself out of the copper tub. Her class was taking a trip outside the city tomorrow and she wanted to be well rested for the hike they would be taking.

With the close of last session’s classes, Jahrra had been very disappointed that she would no longer be enjoying her wildlife class with Anthar and Dathian. That is, until her professor informed her that he gave a second class; a continuation of the previous course. She, Senton and Torrell had been the first three students to sign up. Jahrra grinned, drying her hair as she imagined all the animals they might see this time around.

She rose early the next morning, despite spending a good deal of time trying to fall asleep the night before because of the situation with Shiroxx. She quickly got dressed, packed her bag with the necessary items, pulled on her good boots and headed downstairs. She met Neira in the kitchen and the maid gave her a packed lunch and a few leftover biscuits from the night before for breakfast.

Jahrra thanked her and headed through the great room, grabbing a few strings of dried apples for Phrym on her way out. Jaax was already gone, she noted, but he was rarely home in the mornings anyways. Stepping out into the crisp air, she picked up her pace and at the bottom of their hill joined the few early risers already up and moving.

As she made her way to the stables, she shuffled the conversation she’d had with her guardian the night before over and over again in her head. Perhaps she had been wrong; perhaps Jaax should have known about Shiroxx’s visit right away. For all Jahrra knew, the female dragon could be plotting something against her. Highly unlikely but not impossible. You’re not the insignificant little Nesnan you were in Oescienne, Jahrra, she told herself. You could have enemies lurking around every corner you never even dreamed of. Not surprisingly, the thought didn’t make her feel any better.

-Chapter Nineteen-

Confessions, Accusations and an Inevitable Banishment

Jaax hadn’t slept the entire night, for the information Jahrra had shared with him had gnawed at him the way a river carves away stone. He had too much on his mind, what with the news he’d gathered on his trip to Nimbronia and now Shiroxx’s attempt to manipulate Jahrra. How was he going to tell her that they might be required to leave Lidien much sooner than he had ever hoped? If the reports were accurate, and he had little doubt that they were, then the Tyrant’s men were at this very minute leaking into Felldreim’s borders and slowly making their way to Lidien. How they had managed to get past the magic was beyond his knowledge, but if they reached the great city there would be immeasurable catastrophe, he was certain of it.

As daunting as this information might be Jaax had other things to worry about at the present. He glanced out of the window behind his desk, noting that the trees were still a black silhouette against the dark sky. At least two more hours

before dawn; two more hours before he had to go talk to Shiroxx and stress that she needed to stay away from Jahrra.

He sighed and rubbed his scaled knuckles against his forehead, the spirit stone in his ring glinting in the pale candlelight. He smiled despite his headache and irritation. He never particularly enjoyed jewelry of any kind but this ring held special meaning coming from Jahrra.

A soft knock on the front door of his estate drew his attention. He paused and listened carefully, thinking he’d imagined it. The sound came again, a little stronger this time. Who would be calling so early in the morning?

Not wanting Neira to be disturbed, Jaax rose and crossed the hallway. He opened the door and blinked in surprise.

“Forgive me Lord Raejaax,” a familiar golden dragon said, his voice all formality, “but I must speak with you.”

Jaax studied the young Tanaan standing before him, cowering like a wolf that had been put back in his place by the alpha male.

“Of course,” Jaax said carefully, “you are Kehllor, I believe.”

Kehllor nodded and swallowed, lowering his eyes.

“Very well,” Jaax sighed, “my study would probably be the best place, since I have a feeling you wish to discuss something of a delicate matter.”

The golden dragon nodded again, the scar running down one side of his face seeming to pale even further.

Once they were both settled in the dragon’s study, Jaax behind his desk and Kehllor sitting before it, the younger Tanaan blurted out, “I have a confession to make.”

Jaax lifted both eyebrows.

“I know I should have waited until later this morning, but something has been weighing on my mind for several days and I just had to tell you and this way she won’t know I’ve spoken to you.” He heaved a great sigh and released it.

“Shiroxx came to visit me last week, more agitated than usual, saying she had to talk to me and that she couldn’t take it anymore. She was so angry and carrying on about the insolence of the girl,”

He was babbling now and Jaax was sure he had forgotten where he was and to whom he was speaking.

“Stop,” he said, using the authority that came so naturally to him. “Start over. Forget that it is early, for it is clear we have both spent the night worrying about something.”

Kehllor swallowed, closed his eyes, and began in a more normal tone, “Several months ago, Shiroxx asked me to spy on the girl Jahrra for her, and I agreed.”

Jaax tensed, but he kept himself from snapping at the younger dragon. “Continue,” he said shortly.

“I got my first opportunity on Sobledthe Eve when I ran into Jahrra and her friends, but after spending the evening with them I knew I couldn’t go through with Shiroxx’s wishes.”

He looked up at Jaax with morose eyes. “I have been avoiding Jahrra ever since and feeding lies to Shiroxx.”

Jaax took a deep breath and released it. He had planned on giving Shiroxx a warning later that morning. Now his plans would have to be changed to something much more severe.

“I’m sorry, I’m so sorry,” Kehllor went on when Jaax said nothing. “Jahrra was so kind to me, befriending me like she did; I couldn’t report to Shiroxx what she’d said to me, even if it seemed unimportant. But Shiroxx has me trapped-”

“No,” Jaax cut him off, thinking about what the golden dragon was saying.

Jahrra and Kehllor were friends? When had that happened? Probably when you were off performing your ‘more important’ duties, his inner voice told him.

Jaax shook his head and returned his focus to the current dilemma. “No, you no longer need to feel any obligation to Shiroxx.”

Kehllor blinked in confusion.

Jaax took a breath, quickly going over the thoughts running around in his head. He couldn’t make a decision now but perhaps he could speak with Kehllor again after visiting Shiroxx.

“I’ll handle Shiroxx. As you know, she visited Jahrra last week with the intent on gleaning information from her. I have to speak to her about this, today.”

Kehllor nodded but his jaw was clenched tight.

“Go home Kehllor, go home and rest and then meet me back here an hour after noon. You have provided me with important information and I will not forget it.”

“I cannot go home. Shiroxx has been providing me with a small cottage and I don’t wish to go back there anytime soon.”

Jaax noted that his guest’s voice was no longer so compliant but had become tainted with disdain. If he was judging correctly, he would say that Kehllor had felt detached from Shiroxx for quite some time but felt obligated to stay by her side.

Jaax made sure Kehllor looked him in the eye before he said, “Then go for a very long walk or flight. You are always welcome to stay here with us if you feel the need, until this all blows over.”

Kehllor looked genuinely surprised but bowed his head in acknowledgment, his nerves finally seeming to settle.

Jaax sat back and relaxed and Kehllor mimicked him. It was still too early to visit Shiroxx, despite his eagerness to confront her and demand answers, so he turned his attention back to the young Tanaan in front of him. It had taken some deal of courage for Kehllor to come to him and admit his partial involvement in Shiroxx’s devious plans. The female Tanaan had been on Jaax’s watch list for some time now. He knew she could be demanding and pushy at times and he always suspected her of taking things one step too far. Now he had his proof.

“Tell me about yourself Kehllor, for unfortunately I haven’t had the chance to get to know you since you joined the Coalition.”

Kehllor took a breath and repeated the story he had told Jahrra on Sobledthe Eve, about how Shiroxx had found him wandering alone in the desert without a single memory of his life before her discovery of him.

Jaax listened intently, storing away every word. No wonder the young dragon felt so compelled to serve Shiroxx. He owed her much, but no one had the right to take such advantage of others. She would pay; for her treatment of both Jahrra and Kehllor, Jaax would make sure of it.

The sky was finally growing light in the east when Jaax saw Kehllor to the door. Shiroxx would surely still be asleep at this hour but he didn’t care. He had a few choice words he wished to exchange with her, all of which he was certain she wouldn’t like to hear.

He sighed and headed down the drive, intent on making it to the other end of the city. That was one consolation; at least Shiroxx hadn’t managed to acquire one of the empty cottages on the hillside beside his own. If that had been the case, then the conversation he was planning on having would only cause more of a problem. It might do that in the end anyway but this time the dragoness had gone too far; it was time he put her in her place.

For weeks she’d been trying to point out all of what she considered Jahrra’s faults to him and he had ignored her, as usual. But to come to his home while he was away and to entice his ward in such a manner, and to bully Kehllor into spying on her? He shivered in irritation.

Jaax furrowed his brow as he ambled along, most of his attention lost in thought. He would deal with this inconvenience and then move onto the next one, the matter of Cierryon’s men moving in like the coils of a snake . . .

The darkness of night still clung to the hidden corners of the city, but Jaax preferred it that way. As his claws scraped the smooth cobblestones below his feet, he instead thought about the information he had gleaned from Jahrra the night before. She had been reluctant to admit to what Neira had told him; that Shiroxx had shown up unannounced, trying to gather information from her.

It made Jaax grit his teeth as the fire in his chest smoldered. Why was Shiroxx so keen on knowing every single move he made? And why would she solicit Jahrra for that information? Was she trying to somehow belittle the girl in Jaax’s eyes? Somehow prove that all the slander she’d been whispering to him about his ward was true? It made his skin crawl that Shiroxx had steeped so low as to pester Jahrra, but below the irritation and disgust there glowed a spark of satisfaction. Jaax was proud of his ward for her dealing with Shiroxx: the female dragon was definitely a master of manipulation and Jahrra had handled her quite well.

Blinking up at the bare trees now flanking the main road through Lidien, Jaax realized his destination was near. He released a great puff of air and narrowed his eyes. He could feel the fire brewing even hotter in his chest and he had to force himself to calm down. It wouldn’t do any good approaching Shiroxx in such raw anger. He knew it would probably end that way but it was best to begin with a calm demeanor.

The side street leading up to the large cottages in Shiroxx’s small neighborhood appeared before him and Jaax turned left, the twitter of the morning birds accompanying him. The climb was short, for this hill wasn’t as steep or large as the one his own house sat upon. The torches in front of Shiroxx’s pale pink dwelling were black and unlit but the sun was only moments from cresting the eastern horizon. Jaax stepped up to the front door, a great carved oak construction similar to his own, and pulled the rope attached to a large bell hanging outside, ringing it once.

A few moments passed then Jaax heard movement inside. A servant finally slid the great door open. Jaax eyed him curiously as he beckoned him inside.

“I need to speak with the mistress of the house, the dragoness Shiroxx.”

A handful of housemaids peeked around the corner, then bowed and walked briskly away. The Resai man who’d opened the door gestured for Jaax to follow him and was led into a large sitting room to wait.

Having nothing else to do until Shiroxx arrived, Jaax glanced around the room with curiosity. It was much more ornately decorated than his own great room and the overabundance of rich fabrics, detailed tapestries and vibrant rugs made his headache worse. There were several floral patterns of which none matched and many pieces of gilded, overstuffed furniture that would never be suitable for a dragon. Portraits of epic proportions covered any bit of wall that wasn’t draped with a tapestry and the edges of the great windows were composed of stained glass.

The sickly sweet scent of perfume and incense stirred in the air and Jaax had to resort to breathing through his teeth or else be sick. He eyed the fireplace in a bored fashion and noticed that several logs were perched there, waiting to be lit. Jaax would have done the honors himself but he feared the combination of added heat and the overpowering scents wafting through the sitting room would just be too much for his senses.

Sighing, he found a comfortable patch of floral carpet and sat upon the floor. He curled his tail around his feet and kept his senses alert, facing the great door that led further into the house. Jaax eyed the tall clock in the corner of the room, a device owned only by the most affluent, and grew more and more irritated as the minutes ticked by.

He waited nearly an hour, keeping a tight rein on his anger the entire time. He needed to be calm and collected when Shiroxx appeared. He had an inkling that she might suspect why he was here at such an early hour, and her delay had nothing to do with her servants getting her to rise from her sleep; it had everything to do with her desire to arm herself against an impending attack. Jaax considered all this as he waited; preparing himself for how the other Tanaan dragon would react to what he had to say.

The muffled sound of commotion shortly followed by a brisk opening of the smaller side door jerked the Tanaan dragon from his contemplation. He lifted his head and eyed the Resai man from earlier with scrutiny.

He held his head high but offered Jaax a customary bow. “Her ladyship will be with you shortly.”

Jaax merely nodded, a sharp jerk of his head. Not that the butler would care; he hadn’t even lifted his eyes to acknowledge his lady dragon’s guest from the time he entered the room until he left it.

A few moments later the larger doors swung open, once again by the efforts of many attendants, and Shiroxx stepped through, looking like a relaxed queen come to deal with a pleading peasant. Jaax wrinkled his nose in absurd interest. He knew their kind descended from humans but it was a bit ridiculous to try and dress as them. What Shiroxx wore could only best be described as some sort of robe, despite the light, sheer weave of the fabric. The strange gown trailed easily behind her and shimmered like gold, the same gold that decorated her head in a twisted circlet. Like all dragons, the Tanaan also possessed that obsession that their reptilian brethren were famous for: treasure-hording. However, most dragons hid their treasure away as opposed to airing it out in the open for all the world to see as Shiroxx did.

“Ah, my dear Raejaax! What brings you calling at such an early hour?”

Jaax grinned, that characteristic grin of his that would make Jahrra turn and run for the hills if it were directed at her. But it wasn’t Jahrra who’d tested him this time, it was Shiroxx and she had no idea what his gesture might entail.

Jaax didn’t answer. Instead, he opted for letting the silence linger a moment more and mingle with the smoky incense.

Shiroxx merely smiled, her pale brown eyes glittering but after a while even she grew restless.

She released a melodic laugh before speaking again, “Come now Jaax! Do tell me what this is all about. Might I flatter myself and consider this a personal visit? No matters of the state of Ethöes or politics to be expected?”

Shiroxx moved then, sauntering over to the small corner of the room where Jaax had managed to find the least amount of garishness. She came almost right up to him but he did not move or flinch. His malicious grin, however, was gone.

“Why else, then,” Shiroxx nearly whispered, “would you sneak through the city before sunrise to waken me? What so presses your mind that you would speak with me under the cover of early darkness?”

Jaax gave her his full gaze then and she actually stepped back in slight shock.

“My, that look could scorch a forest without you even summoning your fire to thought.” The female dragon gave a dry laugh, but it was a weak effort.

Jaax watched her back away, making herself comfortable upon several cushions in the opposite corner, far away from where he sat he noted with some satisfaction. Shiroxx may have charmed her way through life but she would have to try much harder if she were to succeed with him. Jaax wasn’t so easily fooled, or seduced.

“Why else, you ask,” he finally spoke, his voice sounding rusty, even to him. “I am not here for the reasons you so narcissistically suggest but for a visit and a conversation that happened a week ago.”

Shiroxx, who had been gazing at him through half-lidded eyes, a serene smile plastered on her face, suddenly became frozen. Jaax was sure she would have turned white if her scales would allow it.

“Visit? Conversation? Jaax, I make many visits and have many conversations on a daily basis, you know this. Am I to recall a single one and this one being as old as a week? And when most of these callings consist of frivolous talk and inconsequential gossip? Am I to believe you, of all dragons in Ethöes, consider one of my social callings to be important enough to drag yourself, and myself I might add, from our much needed sleep?”

“The visit and conversation of which I speak is neither frivolous nor inconsequential,” Jaax snapped, baring his teeth in a half-snarl.

Shiroxx curled her own lip in defense. “Oh, pray, do tell me what some sniveling little whelp of a noble lord’s making came whining to you about. If one cannot handle the pressures of court and politics one should stay at home, locked away in their manor house where no one has to suffer their intolerable presence.”

Shiroxx had apparently dropped her act of the innocent damsel and was returning to her normal self. Good, Jaax thought, let her dig herself deeper.

“I am not speaking of some rude passing comment you made at a social dinner or luncheon, I am here because of something far worse.”

Shiroxx arched a brow and glared at him, demanding with a look and her body language that he get on with it and tell her why he had dragged her away from sleep so early.

“Last week, while I was away on business, you paid a visit to my ward.”

Jaax thought it best to refer to Jahrra as such. Keep it business; don’t make it personal, that is what Shiroxx wants, he reminded himself, hoping he could stick to that advice.

Jaax saw the fire in Shiroxx’s eyes flare for a moment, but she quickly composed herself. “And is it a crime then, to call on the chosen child of Ethöes and see how she fares without her doting guardian at her beck and call?”

Jaax ignored the insult and pressed on, “It is a crime when the one visiting is there to pry into matters that are not her affair and to stir trouble where it is not needed.”

Shiroxx was silent for a moment and for once Jaax was unable to discern what she was thinking.

“And what is it that you think I said or did to her?” The female dragon’s voice was soft, almost alarmingly so.

“That you inquired after my whereabouts in a conniving way,” Jaax said simply.

Shiroxx laughed, an almost genuine one this time. “Oh, is that all? I simply inquired as to where you might be! I came calling to visit with both of you and asked only to discern whether or not I should come back some other time.”

“And yet you decided to stay, despite my absence.”

Shiroxx snorted and rolled her eyes. “And your point being? I had a visit with the girl without you hovering for once. Is that so bad?”

Jaax glared at her. He was tired of her excuses. “It is when you question her loyalty to me and give her false ideas about my loyalty to her.”

Jaax was practically growling. He was standing now and had moved across the cushion-strewn floor, forcing Shiroxx to rise as well and take a defensive position. If he had been a cat, his hackles would have been raised and his tail a bottlebrush. Instead, an aggressive growl escaped his throat and his reptilian tail twitched in irritation.

“We have worked very hard to come to an understanding and respect between us, Jahrra and I, and I will not sit back and allow you to pull that apart, thread by thread, with your selfish, self-indulgent trickery.”

Shiroxx, seemingly fresh out of denial and excuses, shot back, “The little chit has not a care for what you do or where you are, no matter how much you’ve deluded yourself to think so! You should have heard her. Her lame excuse for not knowing your whereabouts was that you give information only when it needs to be given. She could care less! What sort of trust and respect is that? How can you defend someone without even the slightest inkling of loyalty?”

“Then she knows me far better than you do,” he hissed in return, “and that, my dear dragoness, is the purest example of loyalty.”

Shiroxx was speechless and not because she chose to be, but because Jaax had driven her to it. That fact gave him great satisfaction.

Before she could revive herself from that blow, he drew breath and continued on, driving the nail further in, “I have also received word from several of my associates that you have enlisted a spy to help you with your hunger for information.”

Shiroxx blanched, then hissed, “Who accuses me!”

Jaax smirked, but it held no humor. “And you wish me to tell you names so that you can go and teach them a lesson? I think not. You are far out of line Shiroxx and your behavior will no longer be tolerated.”

Shiroxx opened her mouth to argue, but Jaax beat her to it, “In light of recent events that were fully and purposefully under your own control and execution, I, Raejaaxorix, Head of the Coalition for Ethöes, hereby discharge you and excuse you from all duties pertaining to the cause we so seek to bring about. Your services are no longer needed nor desired.”

The words had been memorized long ago to be used in just this kind of situation and despite their overindulgent nature, it was necessary for him to use them today. He, nor any other member of the Coalition, could continue to accept Shiroxx’s erratic behavior. She acted purely on emotion and although one’s feelings were intrinsic to their group’s purpose in this world, it was extremely dangerous to operate on emotions alone. Besides, she posed a danger to Jahrra and Jaax would not allow that. Her actions before had been questionable but this time Shiroxx had clearly crossed a line.

The red dragon stood in her ornate sitting room, a mix of emotions playing over her face: shock, irritation, longing and most significantly, anger. There may have been some regret and sorrow lingering beneath the surface but Jaax knew it would only be for selfish purposes. Shiroxx rarely felt guilt or empathy towards others.

Finally, she found her voice. “How dare you! You cannot cast me aside like some used up resource, after all I’ve done for-”

Jaax’s sneer was apparent in his voice as he cut her off, “You have done nothing for the Coalition worth noting. Don’t presume to tell me I am being unfair.”

Shiroxx bristled but quickly regained her composure. She softened her stance and took on the air she often wore when about to apply some sweetly delivered insult. Jaax blew a snort of smoky air through his nostrils and turned to leave. Shiroxx’s servants, nervous from the tense atmosphere their master and Jaax had stirred, pulled on the large sliding door to let the other dragon out.

As Jaax stepped out into the cool winter air, wishing to put as much space between himself and Shiroxx, the female dragon purred after him, “I hope this little misunderstanding hasn’t damaged our friendship, dearest Raejaax.”

Without turning around, Jaax shot over his shoulder, “Oh no Shiroxx, our acquaintanceship is over. Friendship requires trust and sacrifice, two things you are incapable of giving freely.”

Jaax didn’t wait for a reply, he simply faced the street and pressed on, hoping with a cold dread in his stomach that Shiroxx would not somehow take her revenge out on Jahrra.

His ward was gone when he returned so he went directly to his study, informing Neira that he expected another Tanaan dragon in an hour or so.

“Not Shiroxx,” he said when he saw the look on her face.

The maid released a sigh and said, “Thank goodness.”

For a long time, Jaax simply sat at his desk and let his mind run free. Shiroxx would not accept her ejection from the Coalition so easily; she would find a way to fight. In order to ensure she remained out of the way, he would have to promote someone to her position. It wasn’t the grandest of positions but it required a lot of travel and fierce loyalty to the Coalition; it demanded that the holder of such status become a spy. Jaax grinned despite all the troubles that had weighed down his heart of late. He thought he knew of just the dragon for the job . . .

* * *

Neira showed Kehllor to Jaax’s study the moment he arrived. Jahrra was still absent, for it was still early in the day and she would probably go to practice with her friends when they were done with classes. A pang of worry shot through him but he snuffed it out. She would be safe enough with Torrell, Senton and Dathian for now, but he would have to warn her of what had transpired today. He cringed. She wouldn’t like it despite its necessity.

The clearing of a throat drew his attention to the archway leading into the hall. Kehllor stood there, looking far less harried than he had that morning. Jaax had to admire the young dragon, for if nothing else he had a great deal of fortitude. It had taken great strength to come to terms with his guilt and make the right choice about it, only to pull his emotions together and present himself so professionally now. Another good reason why he was an excellent choice . . .

Jaax cleared his own throat, “Yes, do enter Kehllor.”

The younger dragon obeyed and settled himself into an alert sitting position.

“I visited Shiroxx this morning, as I said I would, and confronted her on her transgressions.” He gave the golden dragon a careful look then continued, “I also informed her that my many associates in town had told me she employed a spy.”

Kehllor’s nostrils flared but Jaax hurried on, “You were not named. But I did practice my right as the leader of the Coalition and informed Shiroxx that she will no longer be recognized as a member of our organization.”

The golden Tanaan’s entire body flinched that time and his blue eyes widened but before he could say anything, Jaax continued on, “And I would like to appoint you to her old position, if you are willing.”

Now Kehllor gaped. Jaax waited for the shock wave to pass.

“I cannot,” he finally managed.

Jaax nodded. “You can. From what I gathered from you in the past several hours, and from what I’ve noticed during our Coalition meetings, I believe you are just the dragon we are looking for.”

Jaax held up his forearm to stave Kehllor off from any more interruptions. “And the fact that Jahrra purposely sought you out to offer her friendship only makes me believe this is the right decision. Her judgment of character is impeccable.”

Jaax gave himself an ironic smile for that statement and by the time he returned his attention to Kehllor, the younger dragon seemed to have finally found his voice.

“I would be honored, of course, but have you even consulted the rest of the Coalition? And do they even know about Shiroxx’s dismissal?”

It was Jaax’s turn to flinch. “No, but I’m not required to. I know there will be a slight uproar, for Shiroxx has her supporters, but in the end the majority will agree with me.”

He wasn’t looking forward to informing them of his rather hasty actions but he didn’t regret them. Jaax took a deep breath and moved on to the next dilemma.

“Will you be able to return home?” he asked, ready to offer the younger dragon sanctuary.

Kehllor frowned, “No, but I shall manage until I can find a place of my own.”

Jaax nodded then furrowed his brow in thought. “If you can wait a week or two, I might be able to help you in that aspect as well.”

Kehllor gave the other dragon a questioning look.

Jaax had just offered this young dragon a great promotion, one he wouldn’t have offered if he thought he was disloyal in any way. Kehllor had proven himself, beyond a doubt, by coming forward about Shiroxx’s deceit, so he knew he could trust him with sensitive information.

Heaving a great sigh, Jaax said, “I have recently received word that the Tyrant’s men have breached Felldreim’s borders and that it is only a matter of time before they make it to Lidien.”

Kehllor blanched but Jaax continued on, “Which means Jahrra and I will have to leave very soon if we are to escape and keep the people of this city from harm.”

Jaax smiled, a hint of sadness in his eyes. “I will need someone to look after my estate and keep my housemaid, Neira, company. Do you think you could manage that? At least until you are further needed outside of Felldreim?”

Kehllor went numb with shock again. He could not believe his turn of luck in just a few short hours. He swallowed, finding his mouth had gone dry, and said, “I don’t deserve any of this. I had been willing to spy on Jahrra, had given my loyalty to Shiroxx-”

“But,” Jaax interrupted, “you didn’t follow through with any of it and you came to me and explained yourself honestly. You have shown great potential Kehllor, and I hope you will accept both my offers. I can think of no one more deserving than you.”

Kehllor was immensely humbled by Jaax’s words and as he saw the younger dragon out he said, “If for some reason your accommodations don’t work out, feel free to seek our hospitality. Until then, I will see you at the next Coalition meeting.”

Jaax shivered. “That reminds me. I’m afraid we’ll have to call for one tonight to discuss today’s events.” He looked up at Kehllor with tired eyes. “Would you be so good as to spread the word on your way back into town?”

Kehllor nodded. “I’ll have someone post something in the marquee outside of Emehriel Hall.”

Jaax gave a true smile. “I would appreciate that. Now, I think I’ll take a nap before Jahrra returns from school. I don’t look forward to her reaction, though I’m sure she’ll be pleased to hear of your promotion. Oh, and one more thing,” Jaax grimaced then continued on, “Jahrra doesn’t know about the breach of Felldreim’s borders yet. I would appreciate it if that bit of information wasn’t shared with anyone.”

Kehllor squared his shoulders then gave a small bow. “You have my word.”

He straightened and grinned, bidding Jaax a final farewell before turning down the winding drive.

Jaax sighed heavily, for the first time in weeks allowing the weight of his thoughts and responsibilities show plainly on his face. He had much to consider; the fallout of his handling of Shiroxx, the possible army that was headed their way, the new found trust in the young dragon Kehllor, and lastly, how to break it all to Jahrra.

She would be angry about his decision regarding Shiroxx, he was sure. She would not like it that he had been so harsh, as she would call it. But he feared her reaction to his news regarding Cierryon’s men even more. He didn’t want to tear her away from Lidien so soon, for she was so happy here. Unfortunately, however, it couldn’t be avoided nor ignored.

Jaax turned and disappeared back into the house. He murmured something about being in his study to Neira and to wake him when Jahrra got home from school, then shut the door and returned to his desk. He should get some sleep, for he felt the exhaustion of a sleepless night after so many others weighing him down, but he wanted to go over his papers once again. The papers that detailed what the Tyrant’s men were up to. He made it through two paragraphs before his eyes could stay open no longer.

-Chapter Twenty-

An Act of Defiance

“Jaax.”

The voice was familiar but it wasn’t of this world, this world full of shadows and fear and pain.

“Jaax!”

Louder this time, yet not loud enough or strong enough to pull him from the darkness. Someone or something else wanted him to stay put, to stay trapped in this misery.

“Jaax, wake up!”

This time the voice was accompanied by a light touch. So this was the key; the contact with the other world, because suddenly a great light seared the black clouds and sorrow, shoving it back into the furthest corners of his mind, the corners where he no longer ventured in the waking world.

Jaax jerked his head up, nearly taking Jahrra’s arm with it before she had a chance to tear her hand away from his face. He blinked several times, trying to remember the dream and forget it at the same time. He caught a tiny glimpse of its

remnants and realized with a shudder that he wished to disregard it.

“Jaax?”

Jahrra’s worried tone drew his attention away from the nightmare. He blinked down at her, still in her school clothes, her bag hanging over her shoulder. Neira stood in the tall door frame of his office looking terrified, but his ward appeared to be more concerned than afraid. And she would be, Jaax thought as his heart rate slowed, she’s had plenty of experience with bad dreams.

“Nightmare,” Jaax grumbled.

Jahrra nodded. “You were making smoke.”

Jaax tilted his head, eyeing the film of gray haze clinging to the ceiling above.

“I just got home. Decided to skip practice with my friends so I could get some homework done. It’s a good thing I did. Neira was afraid to approach you . . .”

Jahrra glanced back at their housekeeper and smiled. She looked a little less afraid but still troubled. She gave Jaax one more tentative look then turned to leave.

“I’ll just see about supper then,” she said as she disappeared down the hallway.

“Thank you for waking me,” Jaax said softly. “I could have caused a good deal of damage had you decided to stay in town.”

Jahrra grinned and hiked her bag higher up on her shoulder. “Luckily there’s not much to burn in a stone house.”

Jaax smiled. “I didn’t even realize I’d fallen asleep,” he admitted as he glanced down at the desktop.

The papers were still there but they looked wrinkled from where his forearm and head had rested.

“Perhaps you should go get some sleep,” Jahrra suggested as she leaned against the door frame.

“I can’t,” he said, the memories of earlier that day flooding to the front of his mind like the onslaught of nausea, “I’ve had to call a special Coalition meeting tonight.”

Jahrra solidified where she stood. “Special meeting?” she finally said.

Jaax stood up and tried to work the stiffness out of his neck as he considered how to tell her of his meeting with Shiroxx and his offer to Kehllor. The news about the Crimson King’s soldiers could wait. For now. Jaax grimaced.

“Yes,” he finally said, apprehension weighing heavily in his tone. “Something suddenly came up. You’re not required to be there,” he added as an afterthought, trying to keep the grimness out of his voice. “In fact, it’s probably best that you stay home tonight.”

Jahrra gazed up at Jaax with a question in her eyes. “And why’s that?” she asked. Something about the way he avoided eye contact worried her.

Jaax took a breath, the vestiges of his nightmare still clinging to the edge of his mind. “Because,” he began rather slowly, “I visited Shiroxx this morning and asked her, no,” he closed his eyes and shook his head, “informed her that she will no longer be recognized as a member of the Coalition.”

The soft sound of a heavy bag meeting up with the floor permeated the otherwise quiet room.

“What?” The question was drawn out and barely audible.

“Her business with you was the final straw, Jahrra,” Jaax breathed in irritation. “This isn’t the first time she has shown her hostility, although it was the first time she was so bold about it, to threaten you while I was away.”

He wouldn’t tell her about the attempted spying; he didn’t need to. Besides, he didn’t want her to think less of Kehllor and Jaax was sure the other Tanaan dragon would take it hard if he lost Jahrra’s good opinion.

Jaax took a breath, gritted his teeth and said, “She is a danger to you; a danger to us.”

“Jaax,” Jahrra began to say.

“No Jahrra,” his voice was sharp and full of the authority he was so good at inflicting. “Shiroxx has brought this upon herself and I will not have you making excuses for her. Don’t pretend to care about her feelings in this.”

Jahrra shot him a scathing look, all delicate manners in regards to the female dragon gone. “Don’t presume to tell me how I should feel. Yes, I have no love for Shiroxx, I never have, but her actions towards me are petty and juvenile, that’s all. I don’t think she could do much harm since the harm she wishes to cast is at me. I can handle her jealous attacks, Jaax.”

Jaax cast his ward a hard and slightly surprised look.

“Don’t look at me that way! That is the reason why she is so awful to me. And don’t pretend you have no clue about it. You’re much smarter than that.”

Jahrra snatched up her fallen bag and charged down the hallway like a pouting child. But she wasn’t pouting, not this time. She was angry and annoyed that Jaax had dealt so harshly with Shiroxx. She wasn’t sorry about her guardian’s decision but it would have been better for all of them if he’d just followed Jahrra’s lead and pretended the female dragon’s visit had never occurred. Now her ire and vengeance would be that much greater.

“Jahrra,” Jaax called from behind her, the tone of authority staying just below the surface, “Shiroxx has allowed her emotions to rule her actions. She is a threat.”

“We all let our emotions rule us Jaax!” Jahrra cried out from the end of the hall. “How could you use that as an excuse? You know the members of the Coalition who favor her will bring up this argument and what will you say when they do?”

Jaax emerged completely from his office and closed the distance between them. As he moved closer, Jahrra got a good look at his face. His mouth showed the beginnings of a snarl and his eyes betrayed a brewing fire within.

“I will tell them exactly what I will tell you now,” he whispered, his head lowered to her level. “The difference between us and Shiroxx, Jahrra, is that Shiroxx acts upon those emotions in order to get what she wants. You and I, on the other hand, suffer ours and set them aside.”

His last words were a snarl and Jahrra felt the heat of his anger before he turned to retire to his own room.

It was when Jahrra released a breath that she realized she had been holding it. She blinked and tried to calm herself. She was angry, as she always was when Jaax tried to intimidate her into submission. Although he was right in what he’d said, Jahrra still thought it would have come to less trouble for everyone if they had just let Shiroxx go on thinking she was getting under her skin.

In fact, to her utter disgust, Shiroxx had gained exactly what she’d wished: Jahrra was fighting with her guardian again.

“Stupid dragon!” she shouted as she stomped up the stairs to her own room.

“Which one Jahrra? Your guardian or the red female?”

Jahrra scowled down at Neira’s form in the archway to the kitchen.

“Both of them,” she snapped. “This is exactly what Shiroxx wants, for Jaax and me to be angry with one another.”

Jahrra sighed and slouched against the wall halfway up the staircase, burying her face in her hands. “But why would she want this to happen? Isn’t it hard enough convincing everyone that I’m here and willing to try and return the world to the way it was? And convincing them that I actually believe I can do it?”

She let her head rock back and she gazed out the window of the landing just above her. The sun was low in the sky and soon it would be dark, almost time for bed. But Jahrra wasn’t tired. Her body was fatigued from the day’s classes, but her mind was snapping for action. She wanted desperately to go to that meeting but Jaax had told her no.

The thought of her guardian and his hasty and impulsive decision with regards to Shiroxx drove Jahrra’s temper up again. Why hadn’t he consulted anyone first? Why hadn’t he at least talked to her? She was the one to suffer the insult after all; shouldn’t her opinion have been included? A memory flashed through her mind then, a memory that took place in almost this exact spot. A memory of Jaax, pleased with his Solstice gift after all, pleased because, in his eyes at least, it meant that he knew she trusted him. So why couldn’t he just trust her?

Jahrra sighed and began to move up the stairs once again. “He should not have expelled Shiroxx,” she said in a near whisper, half to herself.

“That she-dragon was a forest fire waiting to happen, and you know it Jahrra,” Neira scolded as she turned back towards the kitchen. “I’ll bring you some supper when it’s ready and we’ll have a nice talk about it if you like.”

The housemaid smiled, her eyes twinkling, and Jahrra returned the favor. It was so nice having someone to talk to, someone who would just sit and listen and not try and tell her what she should do or what she should have done. Someone to take in her worries and pains and just hold them for a little while so that she could be free for once.

Once in her own chambers, Jahrra threw her school bag next to her desk and glanced around. She desperately wanted to go to tonight’s Coalition meeting for the simple purpose of discovering what everyone thought of Jaax’s impulsive decision. She would also like to have the chance to offer her thoughts on the matter before the entire committee, despite the disastrous aftermath it would most likely cause. Better to be disagreed with than thought a coward by hiding away while her guardian took care of her problems for her.

But Jaax would never see reason and he would never allow her to accompany him, so she would just have to sneak out and go on her own. She had the means to do so and she even tempted herself with the idea of slipping into the building and hiding in one of the many balconies perched above the sitting area and watching in secret. But it was time she outgrow her childish ways and it was time Jaax accepted her as a responsible adult, one who was at the very center of the Coalition; one who had a mind and an opinion of her own.

Jahrra threw open her wardrobe and eyed her options. She glanced over a few dresses. No, those wouldn’t do. She didn’t feel like wearing a dress and besides, if she would be riding Phrym it was best she wear pants and a tunic. Gritting her teeth in irritation and determination, Jahrra grabbed her best pair of trousers and a blue, silver embroidered tunic. She pulled the clothes on and fished her brush out of her desk drawer.

Halfway through making her long hair look somewhat decent, Neira arrived with her dinner.

She took one look at Jahrra and sighed. “And what are you planning now?”

“I’m going to that meeting,” she growled as the brush got stuck in a tangle. “I have a right to be there. Jaax has to stop treating me like I’m eight years old.”

Neira swallowed and set the tray down on Jahrra’s desk. “He won’t be pleased.”

Jahrra actually snorted. “When is he ever pleased with me?”

Neira opened her mouth to say something but then thought better of it. Instead she took a breath and began again, “How do you plan to get there if he has ordered you to stay here tonight?”

Jahrra flashed the maid a poisonous glare. “He has not ordered me and I’ll just climb down the oak and slip away to the stables for Phrym. I can show up independently from Jaax.”

Jahrra threw her brush onto her desk, its wooden handle rattling across the top.

“How are you going to sneak in without being seen then?” Neira asked rather haughtily, crossing her arms and straightening her posture.

Jahrra paused and looked out her bedroom window, her pose calm for the moment. She rested a hand against the stone window frame and said over her shoulder, “I don’t plan on sneaking in. I want to be seen.”

There was silence behind her and Jahrra knew what Neira must be thinking. Jaax would be livid, there was no doubt about that, but Jaax was always livid when she did anything on her own without his consent or presence. Well, scorch him, who is he to endlessly tell her what to do? He wasn’t really her guardian, not exactly. Hroombra had been her guardian and he’d only taken up the title because she hadn’t been an adult at the time.

She was eighteen now and she could very well step out on her own and get a job somewhere to support herself if she pleased. Jahrra laughed at her own brazenness. Eighteen or not, she knew very little of the world, or at least enough to know that she couldn’t live in it as everyone else did. She would be found by those who wished her dead and as brave as she liked to think herself she was terrified of striking out on her own.

“You’ll need your coat,” Neira said behind her.

Jahrra nearly choked. She turned and gave the other woman a surprised look, for she was always on Jaax’s side in these matters.

The maid shrugged, her mouth quirking in a small grin. “You’re right. Master Jaax needs to realize you are capable of making your own decisions without his consent and although I think your going to this meeting may not be the best idea, you do have a right to be there.”

Jahrra smiled, the tension of her irritation easing some. “Thank you Neira.”

The maid heaved a sigh, “But don’t be too hard on him dear, he does what he thinks is best.” She glanced to the side, but her face cracked in a grin and her eye held a gleam of mischief when she looked back. “Do you know what else he did besides get rid of the she-dragon?”

Jahrra arched an eyebrow.

“Now, I wasn’t eavesdropping, mind, I just happened to overhear the end of his conversation with that other Tanaan, Kaller, Koeler . . .”

Jahrra gaped, “Kehllor?!”

“That’s it! Kehllor,” Neira beamed, “yes, he was by earlier.”

“Whatever for?” Jahrra demanded.

Neira hushed her. “Don’t know, but I did happen to hear that Raejaax has given him Shiroxx’s old position.”

“What! Why?” Jahrra breathed, her mouth hanging open.

What on Ethöes could possess Jaax to take Kehllor under his wing? Did he know Kehllor was uncomfortably attached to Shiroxx? Jahrra felt a tiny bit of her anger melt away. Perhaps the golden Tanaan dragon had finally managed to pry himself free of Shiroxx.

“I’m not sure,” Neira answered, “but I liked the look of him,” she sniffed, “honest eyes.”

Jahrra couldn’t fight her smile but it was entirely meant for Kehllor and his promotion; it had nothing to do with the fact that she was pleased with her guardian for being responsible for said promotion.

Neira helped her into her good jacket and Jahrra pulled on her practical boots.

The sound of movement below interrupted their activity and Jaax’s gruff voice drifted up to them from the first floor.

“Jahrra, I’m leaving for the meeting.” There was a hint of apology in his voice, as if he was sorry for his exasperation in their earlier conversation. “I may be home late so don’t bother waiting up.” There was a long pause. “We have much to discuss when I return. In the morning.”

Jahrra eyed Neira warily but the woman only shrugged.

“Alright,” Jahrra called back, doing her best to hide the sudden apprehension in her voice. Much to discuss? She didn’t like the sound of that and for a moment her uncertainty drowned out her ire against her guardian.

There was silence again for several moments, but the dragging sound of the great door being pulled open and then latched shut told them that Jaax was gone.

Jahrra pulled her jacket tightly around her and strode to her own door, pulling it open and turning down the hall towards the rooftop terrace.

“You know,” Neira called as she hurried to catch up, “you could go out the front, now that Jaax is gone.”

Jahrra turned and shook her head. “His senses of hearing and smell are too keen. He’ll know I’m following him before I have a chance to get halfway down the drive.”

Pulling open the window without the squeaky hinges, Jahrra stepped out onto the stone patio below and looked around. She hadn’t been out here in a while and she felt a pang of guilt as she spotted her small garden in one corner. She had been neglecting her dear apple trees and the smallest one looked rather morose.

Jahrra took a deep breath and strode forward.

“Thanks for your help Neira,” she shot over her shoulder. “It would probably be best if you were in bed when we get back.” She swallowed and said mostly to herself, “There may be a fight.”

Neira merely nodded and shut the window with a soft click behind her.

Shaking off her nerves, Jahrra stepped up to her small orchard and reached out a hand, placing it against the thin trunk of the smallest tree. Its branches seemed to quiver at her touch and a vibrating, soundless hum moved just under the thick bark. Jahrra’s bracelet responded and with a flash of light only visible in her mind, Jahrra saw an image of her old home in Oescienne, a hidden memory of this little tree.

Jahrra bit her lip, trying not to get lost in the images of her old life, a life that seemed so forlorn at the time but would be very welcome now. She stayed there for a moment, her left hand pressed against the tree and her head bowed. She knew her presence brought this little one some joy; made its soul feel more connected to its old home.

Taking a deep breath that let in a bit too much of the cool twilight air, Jahrra pulled away from the tree and headed to the edge of the terrace.

She stepped up onto the balustrade and grasped one of the long, gnarled oak limbs that managed to reach the house, then turned her head back to the apple tree.

“When the days grow warmer, I’ll be out here more often,” she promised.

Grasping the oak branch firmly in both hands, Jahrra heaved herself up into its heights and climbed until her feet rested on a sturdy limb. Walking like an acrobat on a balance beam, she moved along the branch and across to another one. She decided it would be best if she stayed in the trees as long as she could so, mimicking a squirrel, she crawled and walked and swung down the steep side of their hill.

At the base of the hill, Jahrra climbed lower and jumped to the ground, landing in a crouch and looking around to make sure no one spotted her. The sky had taken on an inky hue so she wasted no more time in finding the trail she always took to Phrym’s stable. She followed the path for nearly a quarter of a mile before coming to a graveled road.

Jahrra walked briskly, her feet crunching upon the broken gravel. She met no one along the way, something she was both grateful for and wary of. The cackle of ravens above startled her at first, until she realized what they were. They noted her progress with glittering black eyes that seemed to accuse her of some heinous crime. She shivered and wrapped her arms around herself. The faint sound of horses and the smell of manure told her the stables were just over the rise in the road up ahead.

The old stable hand greeted her as she walked into the great barn.

“Going on a ride this late in the evening Miss?” he asked as he went about his business lighting the lamps that hung around the horse stalls.

“Meeting tonight,” Jahrra answered.

She didn’t think it pertinent to give away too much information. This way, she told herself, no one would get in trouble with Jaax except herself.

A sharp whinny yanked her attention to the stall about midway down the huge barn. A storm-gray face split by a white blaze gazed back at her and Phrym’s ears pricked forward in interest.

Jahrra smiled widely, leaving the stable hand behind as she moved quickly down the wide isle. Many other horses and semequins eyed her curiously as she passed, some stomping and tossing their heads, begging for a treat.

“Phrym!” Jahrra breathed, stepping up onto a stool and placing her hands on each of his cheeks. He rumbled a low welcome, lipping her sleeves as he searched for apples.

“I’m sorry, I don’t have a snack tonight, but I need you to help me with a mission.”

Phrym regarded her with smoky eyes and Jahrra smiled. She quickly gathered his tack and had him saddled in ten minutes.

“Hopefully I’ll be back before midnight but I’m not sure how long my meeting will last,” she told the stable hand.

He shrugged and gave a toothy grin. “Not to worry. I’ll just be sleeping in the back if I’m not up. If you need any help with Phrym, just come get me.”

Jahrra nodded and clicked Phrym forward, his marble gray coat blending into the deep twilight.

Once they reached one of the main roads through town Jahrra brought him up to a quicker pace, his hooves clacking sharply against the cobbled street. The lamps were lit and the streets weren’t yet empty, nor were they filled with those who preferred the night life. The night air was chilly and Jahrra clung to her semequin’s warm body as they moved towards the University.

Jahrra directed Phrym right down the center of the school’s main plaza when they arrived, the tall, leafless trees on either side standing stark against the black sky. A mixture of students, professors and others mingled about, chatting in small groups, playing an odd musical instrument or just passing through on their way home. A few people waved as they passed and once they drew closer to Emehriel Hall, Jahrra noticed the large figure of a dragon climbing the steps and disappearing between the columns.

Taking a deep breath, she directed Phrym off to the side, towards the wooden fence she had secured him to many times before. She slid from his back and dusted herself off, trying to smooth wrinkles and making sure her tunic was straight. She stood for a moment with her hands pressed to Phrym’s neck as she tried to rein in her nerves.

She knew she’d told Neira she deserved to be present at this meeting and she believed it herself, but it didn’t take away the fact that it was daunting to think of walking into that great hall in front of the entire Coalition to challenge Jaax.

No, it’s not really a challenge, she told herself, but he will view it as such. Then she allowed herself a small laugh. You have never once addressed the entire Coalition on any issue before, and this is how you decide to start?

Pushing away from Phrym, Jahrra drew in a great gust of air through her nose and stood up tall. She could do this. After all, she was one of the prime reasons why the Coalition existed. If she really wished to she could demand their loyalty and override Jaax’s authority. She never would, but that is what she told herself as she made her way to the steps, taking them with shaky legs, before passing through the massive columns. She paused outside the huge doors, their size and height large enough to accommodate the dragons that frequented the University for one reason or another.

Jahrra reached out and grabbed the metal loop of the much smaller door and closing her eyes, heaved it towards herself. A few of the lamps were lit in the lobby of the building, but they held no interest for her. Her attention was drawn towards the murmur of many voices drifting through the open doors of Essýel Auditorium. The sound of Jaax’s voice rose above them all and Jahrra froze in fright. She swallowed and experienced an overwhelming temptation to run back outside, grab Phrym and ride hard back to the stables before the Tanaan dragon detected her presence.

No, she told herself firmly before making the final leap, it’s time you stood up for yourself and proved yourself worth listening to.

With that last thought, she straightened her shoulders and passed between the massive columns and into the great hall before her.

-Chapter Twenty-One-

Enemies and Allies

Jahrra’s boot heels clacked and echoed horribly as she walked over to the open door leading into Essýel Auditorium. Taking one more deep breath, Jahrra fisted her hands and stepped through the entrance. Nobody noticed her at first and she was too frightened to clear her throat or call out, so she just stood there and listened, her eyes finding Jaax immediately.

Her guardian sat rigid behind the large podium on the presentation stage, Kehllor on one side and Dathian on the other. Jahrra released a huge sigh of relief. Even if he couldn’t help her in this latest challenge she had taken upon herself, it was a comfort knowing her elvin friend was nearby.

Scattered throughout the auditorium were other members of the Coalition, all sitting or standing, all of them seeming to be arguing amongst themselves about one thing or another. Jahrra didn’t feel as if the arguing was done in anger, just a general pre-meeting banter to get ideas flowing. She heard several complaints about calling a meeting on such short notice.

“Jahrra?”

Jahrra started and then froze at the sound of her name being shouted above all the noise. Dathian had spotted her and to her slight relief he had a small, encouraging smile on his face. The chatter slowed and then diminished, all eyes now on her.

“Your guardian informed us that you would not be able to make it to this evening’s meeting,” Dathian continued, his voice raised to carry over the space between them. He cast a wary glance towards Jaax.

Jahrra swallowed and answered, “No, I was delayed, but I am here now.”

Kehllor, Jahrra noticed, grinned and gave her guardian a questioning look. It was strange seeing the golden dragon at the center of the gathering and not sitting in the back of the room with Shiroxx. Would the female dragon even be here tonight, despite Jaax’s condemnation? She hadn’t bothered to check on her way in and she wasn’t about to now.

Dathian stepped aside and gestured towards the chair beside him, an invitation for her to make her way down the stairs and join those at the center of the room.

Jahrra shot a hooded glance at Jaax and nearly blanched. Oh yes, he was not happy with her presence. It looked as if he were digging his claws into the dark wood of the stage floor. Instead of letting it have a negative effect on her Jahrra decided to revert, if only a little, back to her haughty childhood self.

She held her head high and answered in her most determined tone of voice, “Yes, I’d like that.”

She took the stairs carefully, not looking at any of the other Coalition members as she sunk lower into the room. When she reached the stage she quickly headed towards the chair Dathian had indicated. It was a relatively safe spot, putting herself between a prince of Dhonoara and Jaax. He really couldn’t afford risking the life of an important royal ally should he decide to try and murder her on the spot, so at least for now she could rest easy.

“Shall we begin this meeting?” Kehllor asked Jaax in a lowered voice.

“Perhaps we should,” he growled, low enough for only those on the stage to hear.

Jahrra lowered her head, not wanting to look at him.

He cleared his throat and addressed the entire room, “Thank you all for coming to this special meeting. We have much to discuss for there have been recent changes that involve members of our cause that must be addressed immediately.”

Jahrra detected the bitterness in his voice as he spoke the words and she took the opportunity to glance about the room once more. There were three other dragons there besides Kehllor and Jaax. Two of them looked like Korli dragons in shades of grey and blue, the other one, although not Shiroxx, was just as bad as the vindictive dragoness.

Rohdann, his soot black scales standing out against the bright room and his pale blue eyes watching her with malicious intent, made her skin crawl. Whereas Kehllor had been Shiroxx’s loyal hound, abused and made to feel he couldn’t survive without her support, Rohdann had been her shadow.

Although he only attended meetings sparingly, the black Tanaan’s presence had always made Jahrra squirm. And in the last few months he’d managed to turn the subject of any meeting into a challenge, whatever that subject might be. It was no secret he despised Jaax and through him Jahrra herself.

The fact that he was present tonight without his leading lady and that his full attention was aimed at Jahrra, made her feel as if Shiroxx’s retribution had already been put into motion. Surely the malicious dragoness had informed Rohdann of her quandary. But did she yet know of Kehllor’s shift in loyalty? Jahrra cast this thought aside, for she wasn’t even supposed to know yet.

Shaking her head and swallowing hard, Jahrra tried to ignore her wandering thoughts and the black menace near the top of the room. Acting on instinct, she turned her head just enough to keep her guardian within sight.

Jaax glanced at Kehllor and the younger dragon gave a single nod, then he turned his gaze on Jahrra. Feeling a strange obligation, she looked back at Jaax with stubborn resolution. His own eyes were hard but they seemed to have lost a good deal of their wrath. Only a hint of confusion and maybe even pain clouded them now.

Jahrra was surprised at this. Had she managed to hurt Jaax’s feelings again? Was he so convinced that he thought he knew what was best for her that it pained him if she ever went against his word?

Turning his head, Jaax addressed the crowd once again. He chose to forego small talk and got straight to the point. “Earlier this morning I was impelled to dismiss Shiroxx from the Coalition. She will no longer be welcome at our meetings, privy to our actions or accepted among our members as a dragon fighting for the cause.”

The murmuring began before Jaax had even finished his statement. Jahrra darted her eyes around the room, noting who seemed pleased, angry or undecided. The dragons seemed to have mixed feelings; some were whispering to one another, their eyes wide with sadistic glee. Some merely glowered at Jaax. The elves among them were doing the same, though an air of nervousness flitted about them.

All the others, not belonging to the dragons or the elves, were talking the loudest, some starting full blown arguments. Jahrra swallowed and glanced at the golden dragon just on the other side of Jaax. How was he taking all this? He showed neither anger nor surprise, just a rigid determination not to let any of his emotions surface. His eyes merely scanned the crowd as Jaax tried to bring order to this meeting. He seemed to have adjusted to his newly appointed position within the Coalition very quickly. Jahrra didn’t know whether to be disturbed or impressed by this realization. It was wonderful to know he had finally broken free of Shiroxx and was now offering his loyalty to those meaning to do good in the Coalition, but the fact that he could slip into those shoes so smoothly within just a few hours was something not to be ignored. She would think about it later; right now she had other things to worry about.

“Citizens of Ethöes!” Jaax shouted above the clamor, “Hold your opinions until you hear the length of it.”

Reluctantly, the many facets of conversation ceased.

Jaax opened his mouth to continue, but was interrupted.

“And who are you to have made such a major decision without consulting the board?”

Jahrra felt her stomach flip over. It was Rohdann who spoke, of course. She took a deep, ragged breath. So it begins . . .

Jaax shot his attention towards Rohdann’s pale blue glare and his jaw tightened.

“You’ll give me the courtesy of waiting until I am through,” he growled.

“And why should I?” the black Tanaan sneered, “You didn’t give us the courtesy of coming to a joint decision about Shiroxx.”

Jaax actually snarled but luckily it was low enough not to carry beyond the stage. Kehllor shifted and Jahrra could feel the tension rolling off of him.

Jahrra was beginning to worry. She hoped this wouldn’t turn into another argument over who really should be the leader of the Coalition. The last time Rohdann was given leave to speak his mind he outright challenged Jaax, accusing him of being an incompetent leader and demanded his colleagues seriously reconsider a replacement. Jahrra had later learned from Dathian and a handful of other Coalition members that Rohdann had a few loose supporters, but she’d been assured that their bark was worse than their bite.

The thought of someone else replacing Jaax, especially if that someone else was Rohdann, made Jahrra shudder. Suddenly, most of the boiling anger she’d felt against her guardian evaporated. She didn’t always agree with Jaax’s decisions, his most recent one a good example, but she would always stand beside him and support him. It had taken quite a while for her to see it but Jahrra knew without a doubt that no one else could have kept the Coalition together as well as Jaax had in Hroombra’s wake.

“Oh do shut your mouth before any more untrained thoughts escape,” Anthar said, his arms crossed over his broad chest, his tail flicking his sides in irritation.

Rohdann shot the centaur a poisonous glance but those around him were snickering and tried to hide their smiles. Jahrra grinned in Anthar’s direction and he winked at her. She hadn’t seen him when she’d entered, but then again, she hadn’t seen much save for the two dragons and one elf standing beside her now.

“As I was saying,” Jaax continued, his tone holding a threat, “I will gladly explain my decision to all of you and hopefully then you’ll see why my choice was immediate, and necessary.”

Jahrra felt the bottom of her stomach drop out. Here it comes . . .

“It came to my knowledge that during my absence a few weeks ago Shiroxx paid Jahrra a visit. She inquired after me and when Jahrra informed her of my trip, Shiroxx became overly curious. When my ward would not reveal the details of my journey, Shiroxx grew hostile and accused her of disloyalty to myself, and in essence, disloyalty to the Coalition. Furthermore,”

Jaax paused and took a breath, casting a worried glance in Jahrra’s direction. She gulped down her nerves. She could tell by that look that whatever he was about to say wouldn’t be pleasing.

“I have been informed that Shiroxx has also employed spies to keep an eye on Jahrra and to report back everything they learned.”

An audible gasp permeated the crowd so Jahrra couldn’t say whether or not she made any noise herself. She suddenly felt as if she were made of jelly. She looked at Jaax and the answer in his eyes was pure apology. He had known, but hadn’t told her. Why? More protection? Yet, for once Jahrra was glad he hadn’t. Such knowledge would have only made her paranoid.

When the crowd eventually recovered from their surprise Jaax continued on, his voice sounding slightly hoarse, “We cannot afford to have her harassing Jahrra and distracting me from my duties and all of you from yours.”

The Coalition’s leader took a deep breath and blinked at the stage floor, studying the grooves his claws had created. He looked up after a moment and continued, “Jahrra is the reason we exist. Our pledge to Ethöes is to protect the human child and keep her safe from harm; to aid her in the fight against the Tyrant and his god.”

Jahrra resented being called a child but now was not the time to complain. She had never seen Jaax so serious, except for the time just after Hroombra’s death.

As if he could hear her thoughts, Jaax turned his gaze onto her, his mouth grim and his eyes troubled, almost as if they were beseeching her.

“And I assume you got both sides of the story?” Rohdann’s remark was snide but lacked much of its earlier bite. “And how can you be so sure Shiroxx sent out spies? Who informed you of this absurdity?”

Jahrra could have sworn the dragon’s gaze landed on Kehllor but it was a quick thing and she was more distracted by the falter in his tone. She suspected that perhaps the black dragon saw reason in Jaax’s decision, now that he knew why it had been made. Still, Rohdann wouldn’t roll over that easily.

Jaax’s softened gaze hardened again and he shot his head towards his challenger. “Of course I did!” he hissed, answering Rohdann’s first question. “Despite your extreme dislike for me Rohdann, do you think I would make such a significant decision without a thorough investigation?”

A light murmur began once again and those standing closest to Rohdann started to move away.

The black dragon snorted. “For all I know you’re merely trying to remove a distraction of a whole other sort.”

Now that comment garnered a reaction. Jahrra gasped, Dathian made a strangled sound, Kehllor took a step back, and the entire Coalition started whispering harshly to their neighbors once again.

Jahrra dared to look at Jaax and she was almost sorry she did. He was angry, very angry, but he held onto his temper, better than he did whenever he was annoyed with her. But something about his stance rankled Jahrra. She looked over the crowd and most everyone seemed to be eying Jaax with suspicion now, hiding their quiet words behind hands, yet letting their intentions be shown on their faces; in their looks.

A slow, deep burning anger grew in the pit of Jahrra’s stomach. How dare they? How dare Rohdann make such a vicious, suggestive comment? And for most of their friends and colleagues to consider it? Jahrra threw aside her fears of being here, of her cloaked concern for Shiroxx and what removing her from the Coalition might do. She had tried to harm me, Jahrra finally admitted fully to herself, she had tried to drive a spike between Jaax and I and Jaax had stood up for me and banished the one creature who could make me reconsider my decision to help fight for Ethöes, the one creature who could make me feel as bad as Eydeth and Ellysian had. Jaax took a great risk by dealing with that poisonous red dragon on his own, and now he was suffering for it. Well, not if I can help it . . .

Jahrra stood up and shoved past Dathian, forcing him to stumble back in surprise. She would have apologized, for her friend looked quite harassed, but she was far too angry and far too determined.

She approached the podium and stepped upon the stool resting behind it, bringing her to a point almost level with Jaax’s head. The Tanaan dragon eyed her in surprise, his silver green eyes narrowing when she cupped her hands and shouted out at the crowd, “Silence! All of you!”

They didn’t hear her at first for they were too busy speculating about Rohdann’s words and the idea of Jaax letting Shiroxx distract him from his duties. Jahrra grasped the edges of the podium and raked the crowd with her eyes until they landed upon Rohdann. The dark dragon smirked, his blue eyes containing the same malice she’d seen so many times in Shiroxx’s.

Jahrra gritted her teeth and was about to shout at the crowd again but Kehllor cleared his throat and roared. Jahrra balked but it did the trick. Several pairs of eyes were now trained on her. She should be nervous but her ire burned that particular emotion away.

“I beg your leave to speak,” Jahrra said, her voice trembling slightly. She dug her fingers further into the polished wood of the plinth.

The great hall suddenly pitched itself into silence and Jahrra could have sworn she heard the flames of the lamps and candles flickering.

She cleared her throat, the sound echoing strangely, and said, “I wish to speak on behalf of Raejaaxorix, for it is because of me he has made this decision.”

She heard Jaax hiss in a breath next to her but she wouldn’t look at him. She was still angry at Rohdann for his comment and at the members of their committee for believing it.

“What he says is true; Shiroxx did visit me while my guardian was absent and she tried to get information from me.”

The crowd engaged in their quiet murmuring again and Jahrra had to raise her voice to be heard.

“She came in the guise of a visiting friend but her words were meant to sow a seed of mistrust, to turn me against my guardian.”

“Yet it makes me wonder,” Rohdann crooned, “why is Jaax sneaking around outside of Felldreim anyhow? Are we not allowed to know what our leader is doing without our knowledge? How do we know he isn’t flying off to Rhiim or Torinn to feed information to Cierryon’s men?”

That garnered more murmurs and Jahrra gritted her teeth. Luckily Jaax spoke up, voicing Jahrra’s own thoughts on the matter.

“I was in Nimbronia, meeting with the king of the Creecemind on business concerning Jahrra. I am not afraid to admit it. But I hadn’t disclosed this with Jahrra and she used her best judgment in dealing with Shiroxx. However, this is not the issue at hand. Shiroxx used Jahrra’s loyalty and tried to twist it. For this, she is no longer welcome among our members.”

“But she didn’t outright threaten you, did she Jahrra?” Rohdann’s arrogant voice sounded over the buzzing crowd, ignoring what Jaax had said because it didn’t help his cause. “We have only your interpretation of what you thought happened. For all we know, Shiroxx was paying a friendly visit and you more than likely misinterpreted her meaning.”

There was a short period of silence and Jahrra drew a breath, trying not to lose her temper. “No Rohdann, she did not outright threaten me. What she did was worse. I know that Jaax’s decision, although perhaps a little hasty, was the right one.”

Rohdann snorted in disgust and a few others in the crowd added their own support of Shiroxx with grumbled complaints. Jahrra stood her ground but the number of those who seemed to be backing the female Tanaan dragon was larger than she expected.

“Sounds like you, my dear, might have an unreasonable dislike of Shiroxx, not the other way around.”

Rohdann’s comment brought several sniggers, an uncharacteristic outburst from Dathian and Kehllor, and a deep rumbling of anger from Jaax. It was also just enough to make Jahrra lose the last shred of control she had over her temper.

“And perhaps,” she called out over the restless group, “it is you who have been seduced by Shiroxx and not Jaax, for I can think of no other reason why someone might want to defend that manipulative, poisonous harpy.”

Shiroxx’s supporters didn’t like that comment, not at all, and Jahrra immediately bit her tongue as she clutched the podium, turning her knuckles white. Wonderful, she thought, I’ve ruined everything. Jaax is going to kill me.

Before the crowd could get too out of control she continued, shouting over the raucous Coalition members, “Shiroxx was a threat to this Coalition. Her goal, for some reason or another, was to make me miserable. I know this because she was succeeding to some extent. Every time I saw her she had some veiled insult to dish out. But do not hold Jaax accountable for this, for he tried everything in his power to get me to accept Shiroxx as she was, telling me I must respect her and count her as an equal. I tried, believe me, I tried.

“I wanted so much not to be a burden to this society that I kept much of what she said to me from Jaax. In fact, I neglected to tell him about Shiroxx’s latest visit; he found out from our housekeeper and even then I was reluctant to relate any details. I could live with it. I knew what Shiroxx was trying to do and I wasn’t going to let her rattle me.”

Jahrra took a breath and glanced at Jaax. To her surprise he looked neither angry nor disappointed. Jahrra felt her nerves melt in relief. If Jaax wasn’t mad at her for this then perhaps she could survive it. She turned and looked out at the crowd, surprised to note they remained silent, waiting for her to continue.

“I have mixed feelings about my guardian’s decision, just as many of you have, I’m sure. Am I glad he dismissed Shiroxx from our ranks? Yes. Do I think it will end her interference? Probably not. But the bottom line is, Jaax merely fulfilled one of his duties: he felt that I was threatened and therefore he removed the threat.”

And without giving it much more thought, Jahrra took a breath and said, “I, Jahrraneh Drísíhn, sent by our great goddess, hereby second Raejaaxorix’s decision on the removal of the Tanaan dragon Shiroxx from the Coalition for Ethöes.”

She stepped back from the podium and held a hand up in a makeshift solute towards her guardian. The Tanaan dragon looked stunned but bowed his head to her nonetheless.

Once again and not surprisingly, the hall burst into discussion. Jahrra lowered her hand and looked out into the crowd. She found Rohdann easily, his black form rising above those around him like a tremulous thundercloud. His jaw was clenched and he looked ready to commit murder.

“I too, second Raejaaxorix’s decision and lend him my full support,” Kehllor boomed above the banter.

There was a stunned silence for a moment, all eyes looking in shock at the young Tanaan dragon. He, like Jahrra, had never once said a word to the entirety of their group so his sudden desire to participate was a bit of a surprise. And if Rohdann had had any hope of his continuing loyalty to Shiroxx, those hopes were now shattered.

“Shiroxx may have been good to me once but her behavior can no longer be permitted. Our duty is to restore Ethöes to her former glory and in order to do that we need Jahrra’s help. If Jahrra is compromised, then so are our chances of defeating the Crimson King.”

He glanced up at Jaax then down at Jahrra, his mouth curved in a smile but his eyes sad. He faced the crowd again, looking Rohdann in the eye. The meek dragonling was gone, replaced by a young golden warrior. “It was I who was asked by Shiroxx to spy on Jahrra.”

If the Coalition received any more surprises that night Jahrra was sure the glass oculus far above them would shatter from their explosive reaction to it.

She shot a look at Kehllor, her face paling and her heart clenching in a multitude of emotions: surprise, fear, anger and hurt. Above all hurt. She kept her eyes locked with Kehllor’s for a while; long enough to read the truth in them. She had never seen anyone look so disappointed with himself in her life.

“I’m sorry Jahrra,” he whispered past an equally surprised Jaax. “I was supposed to report back to Shiroxx that night when we watched the Sobledthe celebration but I couldn’t, and I never did after that. I swear it.”

Jahrra narrowed her eyes, ignoring the shouts and complaints of those around them. She believed Kehllor; she knew he was telling the truth. The anger and hurt released its grip on her heart but its bitterness remained. I’ll deal with you later, she told herself, referring to her bruised heart. Instead, she smiled weakly and nodded to Kehllor, acknowledging she accepted his apology.

He grinned, his eyes shining with relief, then gave Jaax a questioning glance. The green Tanaan dragon nodded, looking somewhat humbled by Kehllor’s selfless confession. It dawned upon Jahrra then that it had taken a great deal of courage to admit what he had in front of everyone.

Turning to the roiling crowd once again, Kehllor took a deep breath and, using his strong voice, said, “Because of my honesty and aid in this manner, Jaax has offered me Shiroxx’s old position and I have gratefully accepted it. Though I feel I do not deserve it, I hope,” he raised his voice higher to be heard over the crowd, “I hope that I can live up to those duties and prove myself worthy of such an honor.”

“I also support Raejaax in his decision,” Dathian called out.

Jahrra jumped. She had almost forgotten her friend was standing just below her.

“We do as well,” said Anthar and a handful of centaurs standing beside him.

Slowly but surely, the pledge to support Jaax’s decision was proclaimed throughout the hall.

Jahrra stepped down from the dais where the podium stood and placed a hand against Jaax’s foreleg. She could feel his tension as if it were a knotted cord just beneath his scales. Gradually, as his supporters stepped forward, that tension drained away and Jahrra noticed her own anxiety dissipating as well. By the time all opinions had been voiced the majority was fully behind Jaax. Rohdann looked livid.

“I thank you for your support and assure you my decision was not easily made,” Jaax addressed the crowd, his voice sounding a little unpracticed. “I hope that in the future I will be able to bring such issues up with the group as a whole and we’ll make such dramatic decisions together.”

The hall remained relatively quiet and just like that the great issue regarding Shiroxx’s dismissal, the one that had stirred up so much excitement, was a thing of the past.

Jaax, taking advantage of the sudden silence, cleared his throat and moved on, “And now, since we are all here, on to the issues that have been plaguing us for quite some time . . .”

The meeting ran late, as was expected, but Jahrra didn’t feel tired. She felt exhilarated. She had addressed the Coalition and they had listened to her, not in the sense that they’d obeyed her words but in the sense that they wanted to hear what she had to say.

Jaax spent the remainder of the meeting updating everyone on his findings in Nimbronia and his own interpretation of that information. The king of the Creecemind still wouldn’t budge or waver from his neutral position in the impending war that was sure to happen. Jaax seemed frustrated when he spoke of this and Jahrra knew the dragon had tried everything possible to get the supreme ruler of the province to help. She wasn’t sure how he would, seeing as the royal had refused for so many years.

By the end of the conference everyone had forgotten its explosive beginning, everyone except Rohdann it seemed. As Jaax wrapped up the night and called a dismissal, Jahrra began inching her way towards the door. She wanted to leave before Jaax could get a chance to berate her in front of everyone. Despite the turn of events and her standing up for him she knew he would still feel it his duty to explain the folly in her actions. She knew this, of course, but she would rather receive it back home where only Neira could witness it.

Luckily, everyone seemed too preoccupied with their own discussions as they poured from the doors that they didn’t notice Jahrra slipping out. She made it as far as the outer hall before someone stopped her.

“Well played tonight, Miss Jahrra.”

Jahrra froze, allowing a few Coalition members to flow around her.

“Using your position as the Chosen One to bail Jaax out of yet another sticky situation,” Rohdann continued. “I’m surprised at you; I figured you to be intelligent enough to see beyond his desire for personal gain.”

That time it was a sneer and Jahrra felt her stomach twist in anger. Rohdann was just like Shiroxx; mean spirited and concerned only about himself. But unlike Shiroxx, he had never once spoken to her directly.

She took a breath, stood as straight and tall as her tired body would allow and glared at the dragon. She doubted her look of ire did much, for Rohdann gazed back coolly as if her irritation had as much power to sway him as a gentle summer breeze.

He was an imposing creature, Jahrra noticed. His solid black color made him seem bigger than he was, even though she knew he was no larger than Jaax, and his pale blue eyes reminded her of ice. He wore the mantle of his high status in dragon society, a status similar to the one Jaax possessed, in the form of a jeweled filigree and matching chain pendant. For some reason or another Jahrra got the impression that physical appearance was important to this Tanaan.

Suddenly, she was glad she didn’t know him better.

She took a breath, addressing the dragon as was proper for his station, “Lord Rohdann, how long have you known Jaax?”

The black Tanaan actually blinked in surprise but was quick to compose himself. That was not the response he had been expecting. Jahrra tried not to smile.

“Several years,” he sniffed.

“How many is several?” she pressed.

Rohdann merely stood there, looking too self-important to answer her pointless questions. Jahrra took advantage.

“Since you refuse to give me an exact number, I have no idea what number ‘several’ might stand for in your case,” she replied, crossing her arms over her chest, “and since we are talking in terms of estimates and obscure numbers, I can assure you that I myself have known Jaax for ‘several’ years and can attest to his character and qualifications.”

Rohdann’s eyes narrowed but before he could reply, Jahrra hardened her voice and said, “You, on the other hand, would be the worst possible candidate to lead this Coalition and I’m pretty sure that that’s your primary ambition. But if you ever try to usurp Jaax’s authority again I will personally see to it that your efforts come to nothing and that you are removed just like your friend Shiroxx. How’s that for using my position as the ‘Chosen One’?”

Jahrra pushed past him without even waiting for a reaction. She knew it had been foolish to provoke Rohdann but she was tired of the negative attitudes and veiled threats.

She was so distracted by her irritation that she didn’t notice Kehllor until she ran into him.

“Sorry,” she mumbled at first, trying to skirt around his foreleg.

“Where do you think you’re going?” The young dragon had a lilt to his voice, as if he was trying to hold back laughter.

Jahrra blinked up at him, her anger melting away as she smiled.

“You would stand directly in my way and force me to trip?” she insisted, taking a step to the side to allow two elves to pass.

“Well, you were so determined to run through something I thought it most gentlemanly to offer my arm to you,” Kehllor gave a mock bow and Jahrra couldn’t help but release a bottled-up laugh. His sudden playful behavior was so contradictory to what he’d been like under Shiroxx’s influence that she couldn’t help but be gleeful.

Her laughter made Kehllor smile.

“That was some fine work just now,” the Tanaan dragon said, jerking his head back in the direction from where Jahrra had come.

Jahrra stiffened and felt her face flush, “Oh, you witnessed that huh?”

She started rubbing at her elbow with one hand as she searched the great entrance hall for either Rohdann or Jaax. She hoped she wouldn’t see either before tomorrow morning.

Kehllor lowered his head so that it was even with Jahrra’s and gave her a scrutinizing look. “You know, there is a lot more to you than meets the eye, young human.”

Jahrra flushed again and shrugged. She didn’t think much of her behavior towards Rohdann. In her mind she saw it as a rash decision to provoke him when she could have just as easily walked away.

Kehllor grinned, his look softening even more. “Not many, dragon and elf alike, could stand up to Rohdann like that.”

Jahrra winced. What had she started this time? She had felt compelled to defend Jaax though it was clear he had no trouble defending himself. She sighed, wishing she had been more prudent with her words. Perhaps Rohdann and Shiroxx would team up against them somehow and make trouble. Jahrra didn’t want to think about it any longer.

“Thank you Kehllor, but I think I might have caused more damage than I meant to tonight.”

Kehllor stood back up to his full height and sniffed. “I wouldn’t worry about that. I think you might have actually frightened him.”

Jahrra laughed again and allowed Kehllor to escort her out to the plaza where Phrym waited. Most of their party had cleared out by now, a few groups gathering just outside and under the glowing lanterns. The stars were very bright and Jahrra noticed that it was far past midnight. She wondered why she didn’t feel tired.

“Congratulations, by the way, on your promotion,” she murmured. “I had no idea you had been speaking with Jaax about it.” It was only a half lie, Jahrra told herself.

Kehllor nodded. “It was rather sudden, truth be told.”

He grimaced and looked back down at Jahrra, his blue eyes apologetic once again. “I meant what I said in there, about being asked to spy and then changing my mind. Jahrra, I can’t begin to tell you how sorry I am and after you came to me, offering your friendship,”

He stopped speaking when Jahrra held up a hand. “I understand Kehllor, and yes, I was shocked and hurt at first but all is forgiven. You made the right choice by telling Jaax and everyone just now.” She smiled brightly. “And it shows what strong character and honesty you have. You will do well in your new position, I am sure of it.”

Kehllor breathed a sigh of relief. “You sound like Lord Jaax.”

Jahrra warmed at the compliment then released a giggle.

Kehllor lifted an eyebrow at her.

She waved him off, “Oh, two years ago that statement would have been the worst insult I could ever imagine.”

Kehllor’s eyes widened, “I meant it as a compliment.”

Jahrra laughed again, “I know, but I didn’t always see Jaax as someone to look up to; to respect. We fought a lot more when I was younger.”

The golden Tanaan dragon ducked his head, as if acknowledging he understood her, and the two fell back into a companionable silence.

As they approached the oak where Phrym was tied, Kehllor slowed to a stop. Jahrra had been so distracted by her own scattered thoughts that she hadn’t noticed the large figure waiting for them. It was Kehllor’s deep inhalation of breath that drew her attention back to the present. There, hidden in the shadow of the oak, was Jaax. He was as still as a statue and if Jahrra hadn’t known any better she would think he’d fallen asleep in that position.

“I think I’ll say goodnight,” Kehllor mumbled.

He nodded his head at Jahrra and continued down the stairs onto the lower plaza and into the night. Jahrra watched him almost mournfully. If Kehllor had stayed then perhaps Jaax wouldn’t be able to chastise her. Then again this was Jaax she was thinking about. He was never one to let proper decorum keep him from exacting justice.

Jahrra sighed and pulled her coat tighter. It was nearing dawn; she could see a pale gray flush starting on the horizon and the air was colder than when she had first arrived. Had the meeting really lasted all night? Phrym stared back at her with imploring eyes, whickering softly in inquiry, wondering why Jahrra was taking so long to come over to him.

Do you not see the formidable dragon that is perched just next to you, waiting patiently to harangue me for my disobedience? she wanted to say to her semequin. He just blew out a breath of air and shook out his mane. Trusting fool, Jahrra thought. Phrym never seemed to notice Jaax’s ire.

Taking one more deep breath, Jahrra walked over to the fence where Phrym was tied. The lamps still burned brightly as did most in a city this size. She decided she would ignore her guardian as long as she could, keeping her head low and her eyes turned away. Eventually she reached Phrym, quickly checking his saddle and other tack before climbing on top of him. She kept waiting for her guardian’s harsh, sarcastic voice but he never said a word.

Jahrra paused for a moment, wondering if he was testing her again. Then she realized she didn’t really care. She clicked her tongue, giving Phrym a tap with her heels. The semequin descended the few stairs that separated the upper plaza from the lower.

It was only after Phrym was walking on flat ground did the Tanaan dragon speak.

“I will be keeping my eye on you girl, and that pompous guardian of yours who thinks he can keep you hidden away.”

Jahrra’s hands tightened on the reins and she felt her face go white. How could she ever have mistaken Rohdann for Jaax? And how had he made it to the oak tree before her? He must have slinked past when she was distracted by Kehllor. Despite her wariness, Jahrra pulled Phrym to a stop and turned in the saddle. Yes, it was Rohdann alright. She could see his pale eyes glittering with spite, his black color standing out more now that the sky was growing lighter.

“Threaten me Rohdann, and you threaten the well-being of Ethöes,” she said rather boldly.

The dragon stood and made his way over towards her and Phrym, his walk languid and haughty.

Jahrra refused to flee. If she ran from Rohdann then all of her talk and bravery from earlier would mean nothing. Squeezing Phrym with her knees in nervousness, Jahrra held back. Phrym, confused by what Jahrra wanted, turned his head and eyed her.

“Hold on Phrym,” she whispered, reaching a hand down to pat his neck.

Rohdann moved as close as he dared to Jahrra and Phrym, then lowering his head to her level he whispered, “How do we know for sure you’re even the human prophesied by the Oracles so long ago? It’s only on Jaax’s word that everyone believes you are what he says.”

A chill ran through Jahrra then, one that made the hair on her arms stand on end. Did Rohdann really doubt she was human, and if he did then how many others thought the same? This was not good. She had to tell Jaax, if he didn’t already know. But right now she needed to get rid of Rohdann.

“Jaax wasn’t the only one to determine that I’m human,” Jahrra insisted. “The elves of Crie found me and can vouch for what I am.”

Jahrra felt very ridiculous defending her humanity but wanting to keep up her cool manner and unbothered attitude, she sat as tall in the saddle as she could.

Rohdann on the other hand stepped away from her slightly. His eyes still held irritation but the wind from his sails seemed to have faltered.

Before he could come up with a response Jahrra kicked Phrym in the ribs, sending him forward and putting as much space between them and Rohdann as possible.

-Chapter Twenty-Two-

A Surprise Encounter

The city was just waking up as Jahrra and Phrym made their way home. She was grateful it was the first day of the weekend for she didn’t think she could make it through a day of classes after staying up all night. Despite her exhaustion, however, Jahrra felt edgy and awake. Rohdann’s behavior unnerved her and she knew that Jaax would be waiting to dig his claws into her when she got home. She needed to work off some of her unfettered energy first.

“How about a hard ride through the woods Phrym?” she said, leaning down and scratching her semequin’s neck. He whickered and tossed his head. Jahrra grinned and turned him southward towards the city’s exit.

The air was crisp and cool but held the tang of the approaching spring. Already wild crocuses were beginning to show their colors, painting the quiet forest floor in lavender, gold and white. Phrym ambled along, his hooves digging into the soft, black earth of the trail and kicking it up in great

clumps. Jahrra took a deep breath and released it, no longer feeling so tired.

They were now a few miles from the city walls on a trail she had taken a hundred times, the sun pouring over the hills and flooding the world in golden light. Jahrra slowed Phrym to a walk and relaxed in the saddle, her mind lingering on the events of the past several hours. She had expected some anger about Jaax’s rash decision but she hadn’t expected Rohdann’s reaction and threats.

A rustling in the bushes to her right caused her to stiffen but it was only a pheasant, frightened by their presence. Phrym nickered and Jahrra grinned. Everyone seemed to be jumpy this morning.

Reluctantly, she turned her thoughts back to the aftermath of the meeting. She was tempted not to tell Jaax about her encounter with the black Tanaan dragon but then she remembered what had happened when she had decided not to tell anyone about Shiroxx. Would Kehllor speak with Jaax this time? Would he consider it his new found duty? Probably. She sighed and reminded herself that Rohdann’s threats, unlike Shiroxx’s covert insinuations, were a credible danger.

The trail through the woods remained relatively silent for another mile or so and Jahrra continued to keep Phrym at a slow pace. He was eager to run; sidestepping and even picking up his forelegs as if to charge down the next straight away, but Jahrra kept a firm hand and told him she would let him run when they reached a clearing. Phrym obeyed her, of course, but he complained about it the entire time, swinging his head and snorting.

Jahrra didn’t hear the voices until she and her antsy semequin were nearly upon the people who belonged to them. The road curved wide and Jahrra could see where the mud had been carved deeply from wagon wheels. A small meadow settled into the hollow on the inside curve of the path and a cheery brook chattered in the not too far distance. On the flat patch of land just above the meadow a wagon was parked, the two draft horses attached to it standing in boredom.

The cart was a small, rickety thing piled full with what Jahrra could only classify as junk: old pots and pans, broken furniture, dusty blankets folded and stacked, tools and what suspiciously looked like rusty weapons shoved underneath it all.

Jahrra stopped Phrym several feet away and took stock of the whole situation, listening to the conversation before drawing any conclusions.

“Listen you old hag, we know you’s got truffles hidden away here somewhere and we wants ‘em,” a burly, middle-aged Nesnan man with shaggy black hair said.

The woman next to him, close to his age but with faded blond hair and a stocky build, was scuttling around a much older woman, trying to get close enough to take something from her.

Jahrra tightened her hold on Phrym’s reins and forced herself to stay still for a moment longer.

“I haven’t any truffles,” the woman croaked, “but I do have some fine mountain mint.”

A gnarled hand held out a sprig of greenery but the man batted it away. The woman pulled her hand back and hissed.

That’s when Jahrra shouted, “Hey!”

Before she could say anything more the man’s wife yelped and fled for the wagon, her husband right on her heels. The rough man jumped up into the wagon seat and slapped the reins, bringing the lethargic horses to full alert.

“Git up!” he snapped and the horses jerked the wagon forward, spilling a few of its contents as they picked up speed.

Jahrra couldn’t believe how easy that had been but wasn’t about to question her luck. She clicked Phrym forward to where the old woman stood, still hiding under her hood. She hadn’t moved much since the thief had abused her hand so Jahrra was worried she might be injured.

“Are you alright?” she asked, climbing down from Phrym. She kept her distance, but approached the woman cautiously.

“Well, I’m fine now that I’ve seen your welcoming face.”

The woman’s voice had changed. She threw back her hood, a pair of topaz eyes and a young, smiling face framed by flaming red hair gazed back.

Jahrra’s jaw dropped and she felt her knees buckle. After an entire night spent arguing with the Coalition it was no wonder the shocking sight made her stagger. She couldn’t be seeing what she was seeing but after blinking several times, the image of the familiar woman standing before her did not disappear.

“Denaeh!” she squeaked in utter disbelief, “What on Ethöes are you doing here?!”

The Mystic stepped forward and grasped Jahrra’s elbow, doing her best to haul her up from where she had fallen in the mud. Once she was standing again, Jahrra threw her arms around her old friend, tears forming in her eyes.

Denaeh returned her embrace, laughing the entire time. “Look at how much you’ve grown!”

She pulled away and held Jahrra at arm’s length, looking her up and down. “I knew you would outgrow me someday, but I never imagined it would be so soon.”

The sound of Denaeh’s young voice was like a breath of fresh air.

“And what a fine young woman you’ve become,” the Mystic continued with a playful look. “I should think you have plenty of young men trailing after you in that grand city of yours.”

Jahrra actually felt herself blush, thinking of Senton’s recent attention.

“Oh Denaeh, it’s so good to see you! Where have you been?” she managed, surprised her mind was able to form any coherent thoughts.

Denaeh dropped her hands and clasped them in front of her, the sparkle from her eyes fading a little. “I’ve been traveling mostly. I’ve only just arrived on the outskirts of Lidien in the last few weeks or so.”

She walked over to the small fire she had built earlier and gestured Jahrra to do the same. After securing Phrym to one of the willows growing on the banks of the small stream, she joined her old friend on a fallen tree limb.

“You must tell me everything,” Jahrra insisted. “I mean, you must know why we left Oescienne, but why did you leave?”

Denaeh pulled her cloak more tightly around her and started to poke at the fire as she added some wood. She sighed and sat on the rock across from Jahrra.

“Aye, I know why you left,” she said, her face taking on a sorrowful expression. She took a breath then brightened. “Oh, but my own tale is quite long and tedious, Jahrra dear,” she breathed wearily.

Jahrra simply folded her arms and crossed her ankles, cocking an eyebrow at her old friend as if announcing she had all day.

Denaeh grinned impishly. “Very well then, I guess it is still early and I have nowhere else to be.”

The Mystic watched the fire grow to a cheerful blaze before she started her tale. “I left shortly after you and Jaax departed, after Hroombra,” Denaeh paused and looked at Jahrra.

She then cleared her throat and continued, “The Tyrant’s men scoured the area and even the Wreing Florenn for a few days but they found nothing and no trace of you or your draconic companion.”

Jahrra sat up abruptly, a single thought slicing through her mind. “Gieaun and Scede?” she pleaded, her voice sounding suddenly raw.

Denaeh gave her a pained look and Jahrra choked back a sob.

“No, no,” the woman said, waving a hand, “they are safe. No harm has come to them. They came looking for me the day after Hroombra’s death and I told them what had happened and that I knew you and Jaax had gone, but I couldn’t see where you went.”

Jahrra slumped back in relief and Denaeh went on, “They were deeply saddened by Hroombra’s passing but grateful you and Jaax escaped. I did,” Denaeh sat forward on her rock and took a breath, “I did tell them who you were.”

Jahrra stiffened, whether from Denaeh’s admittance to knowing her true identity or the thought of Gieaun and Scede knowing, she couldn’t tell. She shouldn’t be surprised that the Mystic knew, actually. Denaeh knew everything.

“You’ve known who I was from the beginning, haven’t you?” she asked quietly.

Denaeh nodded and looked off into the trees that climbed the hill on the other side of the creek. “Aye,” she said softly, “I always knew.”

Jahrra nodded and grinned, but with little humor, “It must have been hard to keep that secret from me.”

Denaeh looked back at her then, her eyes taking on that deep golden color they always did when the Mystic was using her gifts.

“Aye,” she repeated in a soft voice, “but you have no idea of what secrets I’ve kept and continue to keep.”

Jahrra stopped smiling and leaned back a little. That was a very ominous thing to say. Before she could think about it any further, however, Denaeh snapped out of her strange mood and continued with her tale.

“Ah, if you had seen Gieaun’s and Scede’s faces when I told them you were human.” The sly grin was back and the two women laughed.

“Once they recovered from their shock, Gieaun was prancing around the Belloughs with glee and Scede merely sat on one of my old stumps, looking as if someone had just punched him in the stomach.”

Jahrra’s throat ached with the thought of her two best friends. She missed them terribly, especially now with Denaeh here to tell her about them. She fought the urge to cry; it wouldn’t help anyone and it would only make her feel worse.

“I assured them that Jaax was taking care of you and stressed the importance of their staying back in Oescienne in case you ever needed their help. They had talked about following after you but I knew you had a reason for leaving without telling them.”

Jahrra nodded and breathed a sigh of relief. She may never see Gieaun and Scede again but at least they would be safe from any harm.

“I started my travels shortly after they left, working my way up the coast until I reached Lidien,” the Mystic began again. “It took me such a long time because following you wasn’t as easy as I had thought. My visions came sparingly and they weren’t as clear as usual, but I knew eventually that Jaax would be bringing you here.”

She waved her arm around casually, indicating the trees and low hills surrounding them.

Jahrra had been listening politely but she lifted her head after this announcement and asked, “Why were you following us?”

Denaeh grinned, her young face looking worn and tired.

“I wish to help you on this mission of yours, in any way I can.”

Jahrra blinked stupidly. “But how? Jaax has forbidden me to make any contact with you.”

Denaeh sighed and stood up, placing her hands at her lower back and stretching. “I know. But I’m a Mystic, I see things that are yet to come, remember? How do you think I found you today?”

Jahrra blinked again. It had been strangely coincidental that she’d stumbled upon Denaeh of all people on this impulsive ride of hers.

“I saw you. Three days ago. I knew you would be riding Phrym down this very road about this time so I arrived very early this morning and started a fire in order to wait. I hadn’t seen those awful vagabonds, however.”

She made a face. Jahrra found it amusing, but didn’t smile.

“They didn’t hurt you, did they?” she asked instead.

The Mystic made an absurd noise and eyed Jahrra disbelievingly. “Oh please, I could have cursed them well and good if you hadn’t come along. It takes a lot more than a couple of filthy thieves and their tricks to do any damage to a Mystic. That mountain mint I was offering was actually fire nettle.”

Denaeh grinned with mischief and Jahrra returned the gesture, resettling herself on her log. “If you are to help us,” she began, “why do you not go to Jaax? We could use your knowledge and foresight in the Coalition. You would be a great asset.”

Jahrra thought about the recent developments once again; about the confrontation with Rohdann and the future problems that would surely arise with him and Shiroxx. It would be very helpful to have Denaeh’s gifts handy if anything were to occur. The Mystic might even be able to let her know if the two rogue Tanaan dragons were plotting anything before they struck.

Denaeh sighed. “I cannot go to Jaax. He has made it clear he wants nothing to do with me.”

Jahrra stood up and crossed her arms, her curiosity about something that bothered her years before finally pushing itself forward. “Why is that Denaeh? Why does Jaax dislike you so?”

The Mystic grimaced again and regained her seat on the chunk of cold granite. She smoothed her worn skirts and held her hands out to the fire. “We have history, he and I.”

That could mean anything, Jahrra thought. “Can you be a little more specific?”

Denaeh slumped her shoulders. “Let’s just say we had a disagreement several years back and he hasn’t quite forgiven me.”

Jahrra raised her eyebrows. Just how long had Denaeh and Jaax known each other? And what kind of disagreement could they have had?

She opened her mouth to query further but Denaeh raised a hand and lowered her eyes. “Let’s just leave it at that. I don’t wish to say any more about the subject.”

Jahrra pursed her lips then took a breath and said, “Well, if it was several years ago surely it’s time he forgave you.”

Denaeh looked up then and grinned, though her eyes held sorrow. “Oh no Jahrra, he has every right not to forgive me for this but I do hope that someday I can prove myself worthy of his good regard once again.”

Now that was too bold of a declaration to leave it just where it was but the note of finality in the Mystic’s voice suggested there was no way Jahrra was going to get anything else out of her, at least not today. All she needed to know was that Jaax would never allow Denaeh into the Coalition and that if she wanted to keep seeing her old friend, she would have to once again meet the Mystic in secret.

“You’ve had some trouble in that group of yours,” Denaeh said, her voice taking on a new, lighter air.

Jahrra heaved a great breath and nodded. “Two Tanaan dragons, Shiroxx and Rohdann. Everything seemed fine up until a week ago when Shiroxx tried to rattle me more than usual. Now she has been expelled from the Coalition and Rohdann is eager to seek redemption on her behalf.”

“Ah yes, I remember your mention of a Shiroxx but I don’t recall a Rohdann.”

Jahrra shrugged and told her what little she knew of the black dragon. “I’m not sure how long he’s been a member of the Coalition and he never liked Jaax, but now I fear he means us ill.”

She reached her hands towards the fire, her skin feeling suddenly chilled.

Denaeh sat back and her face took on a knowing look. “I see,” she said, “Am I to presume Shiroxx didn’t take her dismissal well?”

Jahrra nodded. “Jaax paid her a visit and gave her the news before our meeting last night. I believe Rohdann considered her a close ally of sorts and now he feels alienated.”

Denaeh gazed across the fire at Jahrra. “Jaax dismissed her without the consultation of the Coalition? That was a rather risky move. She must have done something serious.”

Jahrra winced. She was still uncomfortable with the fact that she was the reason for all this commotion.

Denaeh waited patiently for a response, her back straight and her hands folded gently in her lap.

Jahrra swallowed. “Jaax left for Nimbronia for some business early last week. During his absence, Shiroxx came to visit me. I thought she was there for Jaax but it turned out she was just trying to get information from me. Jaax wasn’t happy when he found out.”

Jahrra nudged a small stone over with the toe of her boot. The crackle of the fire played against the babble of the brook just behind them. The silence lasted just long enough for Jahrra to know Denaeh had been digesting her words and perhaps trying to see if anything concerning the situation would take place in the next few days.

“I see,” she said at last, “is that all?”

Jahrra blinked up at her then remembered the real reason Jaax had dismissed Shiroxx. “It was all a pretense, of course. What she was really doing was testing my loyalty to Jaax. Oh, and it became known to us tonight that she had also sent someone to spy on me.”

Denaeh snorted and said, mostly to herself, “Oh, he would be paranoid about that, though the fact that she was spying on you is a little disturbing.”

She sighed and stood once again. “So now you have not one but two disgruntled dragons out to get you, the first of which is known to be underhanded, and the other . . .?”

“He’s just as bad. He openly threatened me, actually,” Jahrra responded.

“Ah,” was Denaeh’s sharp reply.

Jahrra looked up and caught a flash of topaz eyes.

“Don’t worry,” she retorted, “I threatened him right back.”

“That’s my girl,” Denaeh answered with a grin. “I’ll keep my senses sharp. If I see anything or hear anything I’ll be sure to let you know.”

Jahrra looked around. Where was Denaeh going to live if she couldn’t live with them?

“I have a cave just over the hill,” the Mystic answered Jahrra’s thoughts, “and I’ll send Mílíhn when I need to speak with you.”

Jahrra’s eyes went wide with joy, “Mílíhn? Oh, where is Mílíhn?” She started looking around but saw no sign of the bird.

Denaeh laughed. “He’s off gathering trinkets for me, but he may have been distracted by friends. I’ve spotted the occasional korehv or two since entering the province of Felldreim.”

A sudden thought bubbled up from Jahrra’s memory. She had been so distracted by the latest upset in her life that she had completely forgotten about her encounter with the other Mystic in the Witching District.

“Speaking of korehvs,” Jahrra began, “my friend and I noticed one in Lidien a few months ago.”

She eyed her friend, looking for any sign of recognition in the woman’s eyes. Denaeh merely gazed at her patiently, waiting for her to continue.

“Anyway, it was sitting above the shop of a fortune teller and when we went in I discovered that the fortune teller was in fact a Mystic.”

Denaeh seemed to go very still but her face remained impassive. “Go on,” she encouraged.

“I asked the woman if she was a Mystic but she denied it and quite aggressively chased us away.”

Denaeh’s face darkened and she said in a harsh whisper, “Did you mention my name?”

Jahrra felt suddenly uneasy but she cleared her throat and continued, “Yes. I’m sorry Denaeh, I didn’t think she was going to react so harshly. She insisted that we leave. I didn’t even learn her name.”

“What did she look like?” Denaeh pressed.

“A little taller than you, saffron hair, pale yellow eyes. She had a cat inside and a korehv outside.”

Denaeh looked away, a frown dominating her face. Jahrra cringed, worried that she had put her friend in danger.

“Sounds like Sahrielle,” the Mystic grumbled. She concentrated on a patch of earth for a moment or two more, then gave a bitter grin. “Oh yes, she would feel threatened by me . . .”

“Uh, Denaeh?” Jahrra asked.

The Mystic took a deep breath, managed to shake off most of her unease, and gave Jahrra a broad smile. “Thank you for that information. I’ll be sure to keep a wary eye open in case I encounter her.”

“But,” Jahrra began.

“Don’t worry. She isn’t something to bother yourself about. Old disagreement between us is all. I’m afraid you have more to worry about with your two dragons than I do with my old acquaintance.”

Jahrra grimaced and Denaeh laughed. “What I mean is, she is no threat to me and most likely, your dragons are no threat to you, though I will suggest you don’t let your guard down.”

“I won’t,” Jahrra vowed.

“I daresay,” Denaeh said after a pause and a shake of her head, “midday is soon approaching and your dragon will be wondering where you are.”

Jahrra eyed her and grumbled, “He’s not my dragon.”

The Mystic only grinned at that and walked with her over to Phrym.

The two women embraced once more. Jahrra was beside herself with glee for discovering her old friend but something about the way she reacted to the news about the other Mystic nagged at the back of her mind. Best to file it away with all the other mysteries that keep me occupied, she thought, at least for now.

Once in the saddle, Jahrra turned to Denaeh to bid farewell. “I’ll see you again soon, won’t I?”

The Mystic smiled, her eyes sparkling gold, and placed a hand on Jahrra’s knee. “Of course, dearest Jahrra. Next time we’ll have more time to visit and I’ll tell you all about my travels and you can tell me of yours.”

Jahrra grinned and clicked Phrym forward, back down the road they’d taken out of the city. She reached the rise in the path and turned back to wave. Denaeh waved back, watching Jahrra and Phrym until she could see no more of them.

“Interesting,” she murmured as she transformed into her elderly self, ambling back to her make-shift campsite.

“Did you hear that Mílíhn?” her old woman’s crackly voice called up to the branches above.

A great dark bird grumbled, just loud enough for the Mystic to hear him.

The old woman grinned, recalling what Jahrra had told her of the unrest festering in the Coalition and the surprising news about the other Mystic. That would have to be taken care of as soon as possible but since Jahrra’s story was the first she had heard of it, Sahrielle must be using some very strong magic to block her, if it was Sahrielle at all. Digging her up, especially since she had surely flown her little hiding spot as soon as Jahrra had spoken the name of Archedenaeh, would be nearly impossible.

She sighed, folding up her irritation and storing it away for later, said aloud, “It looks like there is more to the situation than we thought.”

The bird grumbled again, this time a bit louder, before ruffling his feathers and giving himself a good shake.

“Yes, I agree,” mused the old woman as she started smothering the fire, “very interesting indeed . . .”

-Chapter Twenty-Three-

Bad News

Jahrra took her time heading back into the city, her mind too alive with the thought of seeing Denaeh to realize how exhausted she was or to worry any further about Rohdann making good on his threats. It had seemed so surreal, almost like a dream. If the air hadn’t been so cold or the sun so bright in her eyes, she would have believed it a dream, but the Mystic had been there, alive and substantial.

Jahrra laughed out loud, garnering a questioning whicker from Phrym. It had been so wonderful to see her old friend and although the visit had been relatively short, Jahrra was grateful nonetheless. And to have heard news about Gieaun and Scede . . . she stifled a sudden sob, pressing the back of her hand to her mouth. The thought of her two best friends started an ache in her chest she couldn’t seem to drive away. But they are safe, she reminded herself, safe from harm. And they knew that she was safe. Well, as safe as one could be under the care of a dragon with an evil god-king and his army trying to hunt her down. Jahrra shook her head. She wouldn’t worry about that, at least not for now.

By the time she and Phrym crossed through the city gates and made their way to the stables, it was already late afternoon. She had spent the entire morning and a good part of the day outside of the city. She and Phrym must have ridden much further than she had previously thought. Jahrra sighed as she handed her semequin off to the stable hand, knowing Jaax would be absolutely furious when she walked into the house at such a late hour after such a long night.

Jahrra shook herself. She wouldn’t let Jaax’s anger get to her, not when she had had such a wonderful morning after all. And that was something else Jahrra had to think about as she began the trek up the hill towards her home. She had to find a way to keep the knowledge of Denaeh’s presence away from Jaax. Again.

She had done it before, while living in Oescienne, but her life hadn’t been so complicated then. Jahrra snorted in laughter as her jaw cracked in a great yawn. Oh, how uncomplicated her life had been only a few measly years ago! Jaax was easy to handle then: he hadn’t been around. And although she had Eydeth and Ellysian and their nastiness to deal with, it wasn’t nearly as bad as Shiroxx and Rohdann and the politics that unfolded within the Coalition.

As she wove her way up the tree-adorned hill, trying to keep her eyes open as the weariness finally settled upon her, she went over the pros and cons in her head in regards to her Mystic friend. If Jaax found out about Denaeh and in turn discovered that she planned to stay in contact with her, she would have let him down terribly. But, if she turned her back on Denaeh she lost a potential source of information, information that could prove vital for herself and the Coalition.

Jahrra turned these thoughts over in her head and only when her boots began to crunch on the crushed gravel in front of her guardian’s estate did she finally come to a conclusion that should suit all parties: she would contact and interact with Denaeh only when necessary. No more sneaking off into the woods if she had a problem or disagreement with Jaax. She also decided that it would be in everyone’s best interest if she only divulged what information was essential to the Mystic. No more complaining, no more pouring out of her soul. Denaeh would only get what she asked for and maybe less, depending on the situation.

It was clear Jaax didn’t trust the Mystic but that didn’t mean Jahrra couldn’t, to some degree. Besides, if neither of them bothered to elaborate on why they mistrusted the other, then she couldn’t very well make a good judgment on who was more trustworthy than the other. She would respect Jaax’s good judgment but not to the extent that it forced her to disregard her own.

Although it was still relatively early, the lamps outside the grand house were lit and when Jahrra pushed open the smaller door Neira met her on the other side. The maid’s brown eyes widened in surprise before beckoning her inside. A fire was burning brightly in the main entrance room but no lanterns or candles flickered. Jahrra could detect the spicy hints of food in the air but there was no sign of Jaax anywhere. Jahrra had a feeling that was worse than finding him in the great room waiting for her.

“Where have you been!?” Neira hissed as she slid the bolt in the door behind her. “Master Jaax has been beside himself with worry!”

Jahrra felt herself pale a little. “I, I needed some air after that meeting and I lost track of time.”

“You needed the entire day to get some fresh air! Just wait until your guardian returns. I’ve never seen him in such a state!”

Neira was wringing her hands in the towel she kept hanging in the apron tied around her waist.

“He’s not here? Where is he?” Jahrra assumed he was just in his office.

“No,” Neira swallowed, “he’s-”

Her words were cut short by the sound of the great door scraping against the stones of the floor.

“We checked there, Jaax, at least three times.” The wearied voice belonged to Kehllor but it held a tinge of concern as well.

“Yes, but she could show up there at any moment. We have to look again.”

Jaax sounded strained, frantic, entirely not like his normal, controlled, dominating self. It actually frightened Jahrra. She swallowed and stepped forward, the light of the fire dancing over her figure.

Kehllor saw her first, his sharp eyes flashing and then melting in relief. He grinned and took a breath, “I think our worries are over.”

Jaax frowned and shook his head slightly then glanced over in her direction. The light in the room made it hard to read his expression but as soon as he saw her his composure visibly changed.

“Jahrra!” he breathed, rushing over to her as fast as he could in the limited space.

He lowered his head to her level and actually pressed his broad forehead against her body, closing his eyes and sighing deeply. Jahrra had no idea how to react to such behavior from him. She imagined that if he had been able, he would have grabbed her up in a hug and wouldn’t have let go.

Swallowing back a strange rush of emotion, she lifted a hand and placed it between her guardian’s eyes. “I’m okay Jaax,” she said in a strained voice. “Why did you ever worry yourself so?”

He breathed deeply and released it slowly, his hot breath warming Jahrra’s skin. Eventually, he lifted his head and gave her a scrutinizing look, one that was more familiar to her.

“Kehllor told me what Rohdann said to you after the meeting.”

His voice was rough and she could see the fire building in his eyes again.

Jahrra grimaced, then flushed. The sudden realization of just why they were so worried flooded through her. If Kehllor had heard every word of her exchange with the black Tanaan dragon and had repeated it to Jaax, then her failure to return home directly after the meeting would look very bad indeed. She felt absolutely terrible now, thinking about what she had put her friends and guardian through.

Jahrra shot Kehllor a pleading glance but the other dragon merely gazed into the fire as if it had sprouted a mouth and was now speaking to him.

“I didn’t think Kehllor heard everything that was said,” she grumbled.

Jaax stretched to his full height, sitting down and gesturing for Jahrra and Kehllor to do the same.

“He informed me that Rohdann made a few insults and a few threats, and,” his expression softened a bit, almost becoming a grin, “that you put him in his place.”

He wasn’t angry. Jahrra couldn’t believe it. Jaax wasn’t angry even though she had scared him half to death?

“You aren’t angry with me?” she said in disbelief.

“Oh, aye, I’m angry you forced yourself into the meeting and that you disappeared for several hours afterwards, without telling anyone of your whereabouts.”

Jahrra started to form an excuse but Jaax held up a clawed finger. “But I am not angry at what you said, to the Coalition on my behalf and to that parasite Rohdann afterwards. Perhaps I was wrong to ask you not to attend. You proved to our allies that you are capable of forming well balanced opinions and that you have the right to do so, considering you are the one expected to perform all the miracles when the time comes.”

He looked over his shoulder at Kehllor and the golden Tanaan just shrugged.

“I’m more angry at myself for not listening to you earlier. I’m sorry, Jahrra, for forgetting you are no longer a child.”

Jahrra’s intended words lost all their steam. She couldn’t remember the last time Jaax had apologized to her and all she could manage at the moment was a short nod of acceptance.

Neira cleared her throat behind them and Jahrra jumped in surprise. “Will Master Kehllor be dining with us?”

Jahrra looked back at the two dragons and grinned. “I hope so,” she answered.

Kehllor gave Jaax an imploring look and the older dragon nodded. “Of course you may eat with us.”

“I guess it’s decided then,” Kehllor answered, his cautious stature relaxing even more.

As they ate, Jahrra couldn’t help but be pleased with Jaax’s reaction to the entire situation. He never asked her where she had gone and what she had done and she felt slightly guilty once again about keeping Denaeh a secret from him. Perhaps I’ll tell him eventually, but first I must gauge what her true intentions are. Jahrra laughed to herself as the roast beef disappeared from her bowl. To think, she mused, a few short years ago I would tell Denaeh anything and refuse to speak to Jaax and now I want to keep information from her.

The meal passed in relative silence, what with no one wishing to discuss the issue that crowded the room to the point of suffocating everyone in it. Instead, Jahrra, Jaax and Kehllor passed the time making small talk as the light of day slowly faded into dusk. They spoke of the weather, of Jahrra’s progress at school, of the latest fashions being touted by the elite of the city. Kehllor even went as far as to bring up a tidbit of gossip he’d heard in the open marketplace, a clear sign of how desperately he wished to avoid talking about the Coalition meeting and Rohdann’s threats from the night before. Kehllor abhorred gossip, it seemed, and Jahrra knew for a fact that her guardian didn’t care for it either. For some reason, it cheered her up.

Jahrra played along with their pointless dialogue of course, sipping at the tea Neira had served. It was rich and sweet and helped ease her pounding headache, so she did her best to savor it despite the tense atmosphere surrounding what should have been an otherwise delightful dinner with friends.

Kehllor eventually left, claiming to be exhausted from the previous evening’s meeting and the day-long search for Jahrra. As he left, the younger dragon gave Jaax a look that clearly stated, please don’t be too hard on her, then glanced over at Jahrra with an expression that said, try to see things from his point of view. With a final farewell, Kehllor stepped through the great door and disappeared into the darkening night.

Neira, who had appeared from the kitchens to accommodate Kehllor’s departure, swung the door shut with a loud creak, latching it securely behind him. She turned, gave Jahrra and Jaax one long, assessing look, then took a breath.

“Well,” she said, “the kitchen is cleaned and our guest has departed. I think it is time for me to retire.”

She drew her shoulders straight and crossed the great room, trying to ignore the two sets of eyes that watched her progress.

The substantial space that already separated Jahrra from Jaax seemed to grow even larger. The Tanaan dragon sat in his usual corner, the elevated floor in front of the ceiling-to-floor window, and Jahrra was at her table, a good three dragon lengths away. Kehllor had been reclining on the lower floor, his body a welcome barrier between herself and her guardian. Now there was no force there to block the unbroached emotions in the room.

Jahrra took a nervous sip of her tea, hoping that it would calm her nerves. Jaax followed suit, raising a great stone mug to take a drink himself, the spirit stone in his ring catching the firelight and flaring like a bright star. Jahrra would have found the whole scene comical if not for her weariness and the tension in the air.

I will not be the first to speak, she thought stubbornly, looking down at her plate ruefully. She was hoping that she could distract herself by finishing her meal but it turned out her plate was empty.

The room’s silence became painful to listen to, the flames from the fire rippling gently, the wood popping and crackling every now and again. Finally, after a log fell and sent sparks scattering throughout the fireplace, Jaax spoke, his voice calm, quiet. “Last night’s meeting proved to be, interesting.”

Jahrra risked a glance in his direction. He took another drink from his mug, the belly of the heavy stone vessel resting easily in his palm. His fierce eyes never left Jahrra’s. Jahrra returned the hard gaze as long as she could, glancing away only when her guardian’s mug reclaimed its resting place on the floor below.

Looking down at her plate once again, Jahrra sighed, “Yes, it was.”

She heard Jaax draw breath but say nothing. She imagined he was trying very hard to control his emotions; to rein in his temper.

“Your presence caused quite a stir, something I can only imagine you did not intend.”

The air of accusation in his voice caused Jahrra to snap her head up and take on a disgruntled continence. “Do explain what you mean by that,” she demanded, crossing her arms, “especially after all the praise you rained down upon me when Kehllor and Neira were present to hear it!”

So the battle has initiated, she thought, good, I can deal with this much easier than I can the evasive small talk.

“Do you ever stop to think, Jahrra, that maybe I ask you not to attend these meetings simply because you have the potential to cause such a distraction? That perhaps, as valid as your arguments are, that a meeting following such a dramatic decision on my part wasn’t the best time or place to voice those arguments?”

Jaax had risen from his reclining position, no longer trying to keep this a calm, even conversation.

Jahrra stood as well, stepping away from her table and moving closer to her guardian. “Do you ever stop to think that perhaps I cause such a distraction because you go out of your way to keep me silent in front of those who most need to hear my thoughts?”

“And so you go behind my back, sneaking into the meeting, and look what came of it,” Jaax responded with a snarl. “Receiving threats and disdain from those very people you claim should hear more of your opinions!”

Jahrra opened her mouth to disagree but bit back the acidic reply she had ready on the tip of her tongue. Jaax was right. Her input hadn’t exactly been warmly welcomed and she couldn’t blame it entirely on Rohdann. True, he had instigated the doubt, but there had been a good number of Coalition members echoing his thoughts. He had just been the one to voice what the others were thinking. Her input was important but perhaps she should have waited until the initial shock of it all had time to blow over.

For a moment, Jahrra allowed her shoulders to sag, her crossed arms to hang a little looser. But then she remembered what Rohdann and all the others had been focused on at that meeting and it hadn’t entirely been about her. It hadn’t even been all that much about Shiroxx. Their complaints lie mostly with Jaax and the verdict he had reached in regards to one of their members.

Jahrra took a deep breath and looked the dragon in the eye. “It wasn’t me they had an issue with, but your decision concerning Shiroxx. If you remember correctly, I stood up for you. How can you be so sure it would have gone much better had I not been there?”

“That was not the first time Rohdann has tried to cause trouble within the Coalition,” he finally said, his voice, at least, sounding slightly deflated. “He has been very adamant before, long before you came here.”

“I thought he joined the Coalition after my arrival in Lidien.”

Jaax gave a rueful smile, “Oh no, he’s been around for a while. He was just absent before we arrived.”

Jahrra could tell Jaax was trying to avoid telling her something and she had a good idea of what it was.

“Yes, I noticed he holds a certain animosity towards you,” she said cautiously, addressing his first statement.

Jaax snorted in disgust and turned towards the fire. “It’s no secret that Rohdann despises me.”

“Because Shiroxx does not,” Jahrra braved.

Jaax shot her a scathing look over his shoulder but then his face softened. He merely nodded and turned once again towards the fire, accepting at least a little truth to that comment.

“So then his behavior should be mostly attributed to his defense of Shiroxx?” Jahrra suggested. “Are his threats empty ones or should I really worry?”

Jaax turned his head back towards Jahrra, his face serious, “I would not take anything Rohdann says lightly, and I will know exactly what he said to you, both inside the hall and out on the plaza.”

Jahrra sighed then nodded wearily.

“Now tell me, please.”

Jahrra sat back down in her chair with a great yawn, but told Jaax what had happened and what the black Tanaan dragon had said to her.

“He didn’t threaten me at first, he only tried to rattle me by insulting you,” Jahrra glanced up at her guardian but Jaax merely gazed back indifferently. She took a breath, continuing on even though she felt horribly uncomfortable. “It was outside, when I was gathering Phrym, that he threatened to ruin me.”

Jaax hissed in a breath of anger and irritation, releasing it in a string of krueltish curses. Before he could fully express his feelings, however, Jahrra put up a hand and continued, “That’s not all. Like Kehllor said, I threatened him back.”

Jaax stopped his grumbling and gave her his full attention once again. She gave the dragon a sheepish grin and shrugged.

“Why should he be the only one using his position to throw around insults? I simply told him that if he continued to threaten us then I would use my influence as Ethöes’ chosen to ruin his reputation as well.”

“Us?” Jaax queried.

Jahrra nodded. “He implicated both of us with his words, but I made it clear that he could bring down just as much damage upon himself should he make good on his threats.”

“Like a sinking ship sucking those trying to escape down with it,” Jaax said, almost in a murmur.

Jahrra heaved a great breath. She was absolutely exhausted, both physically and emotionally, but there was one more thing she wanted to say and she wanted to do so while she still had the nerve.

“Jaax, why do you worry so much about me? I’m quite capable of dealing with the insults thrown my way. And even if I’m not, I need to learn to stand up for myself. Shiroxx and Rohdann won’t be the last people to wish me ill.”

Jaax cast her a sidelong look. “Oh, I have no doubt you can stand your ground against them. You proved that last night.”

“Then what is it? What had you so worried that you forgot to get angry at me as soon as you saw me this afternoon?”

“Because there are so many other dangers out there Jahrra that you can’t even begin to imagine, dangers that I cannot protect you from, dangers that can reach you if you venture too far from familiar ground.”

Jahrra sighed for what felt like the hundredth time in the past hour. “But I’m not completely helpless, you know. I know it’s hard to believe, but I’m more then capable of defending myself.”

Jaax laughed, not a very strong laugh, but a laugh nonetheless. “So you never worry about your friends? You never worry about Phrym, despite the fact that he is most likely tucked snuggly away in the stables, or Gieaun and Scede, though they are safe back in Oescienne?”

Jahrra shivered, the mention of her childhood friends so soon after discussing them with Denaeh a little to ironic at the moment. Of course she worried and of course Jaax would worry. She was his responsibility and everyone fretted about what they were responsible for, whether that person or animal or item were in jeopardy or not. She just wished that Jaax would worry less since her well being seemed to be the major cause of his weariness.

“So you see, I worry about you a great deal,” Jaax continued, his tone of voice more serious now, “whether you are in class or upstairs working on a school assignment. Imagine what I must have felt when I came home to find you missing when you should have been here, especially with your tendency to run off and do something foolish.”

Jahrra glared at him. “I do not have a tendency to run off and do foolish things.”

Jaax gave her an incredulous look. “Oh is that so?”

Jahrra stubbornly held her ground, her nose raised with an air of haughtiness.

“The Ninth Cove, the Great Race, the Belloughs of the Black Swamp . . .” Jaax purposely let his voice trail off.

“Those incidents happened several years ago and I haven’t done something so unwise since,” Jahrra insisted.

She winced with the very next breath she took. Unless you count the time Torrell and I encountered the Mystic, or last night when I snuck into a meeting I wasn’t supposed to attend and then after the meeting when I took Phrym for a long ride . . .

“You asked for a reason why I worry, I’m just being thorough. Besides, am I to believe you never worry about me?”

The question was innocent enough but Jahrra wondered if Jaax would be looking for something else in her answer. Besides, she had admitted as much when they were in Crie, when her guardian had been angry at her for disappearing for the day. Yes, she had told him then she had worried about him, but for some reason it didn’t seem that this question was the same. As if worrying about him now, now that they knew each other so much better than before, meant more than it did in Crie. Best to tread carefully here . . .

She took a breath and said, “Why should I? You’re a Tanaan dragon trained in warfare. You have survived hundreds of years as a known supporter of the goddess.”

“You didn’t answer the question.”

Jahrra furrowed her brow. Why was this so important? Did she ever worry about Jaax? Yes, but not in the way he worried about her. She tried to think of a way to tell him without admitting to defeat but came up short. Instead, she shrugged her shoulders and decided to be as honest as she could, even if it meant putting a dent in her pride. It would be a whole lot easier just to tell him that yes, she worried about him, just as she had done in Crie, but that wasn’t entirely true. Jahrra swallowed and took a breath, bracing herself for a smug reaction from her guardian.

“I don’t worry about you,” she finally said, “so much as I worry about what you think of me.”

There, she’d said it. After the death of her parents she had hated this dragon, hated him and wished him ill in every way, shape and form. If she could visit her younger self at this moment and tell the Jahrra from ten years ago that she would one day worry about what the conceited Raejaaxorix thought of her actions and words, she would have laughed in her own face and called her all kinds of unsavory names, liar being the most prominent.

But so much had changed since then. She had lost more than she could ever imagine, had learned things she never thought possible, had faced dangers beyond her comprehension, and all along the way, Jaax had been there. An annoying, overbearing presence most of the time, yes, but beneath that prickly surface he had never doubted her, never abandoned her and he had always managed to keep her heading in the right direction, even in the darkest parts of her life. So yes, Jaax’s good opinion had become something of grand significance to her, something she hoped never to lose; something she needed even.

The room was silent once again. The fire, now burning low, whispered but no longer crackled. Jahrra was afraid to look at Jaax’s face, worried she would find mockery or amusement. The very thought deflated her. If she couldn’t face her closest ally then what chance did she have against her enemies? Jahrra glanced up but the look on her guardian’s face was one of complete and utter surprise. Of all the things for Jahrra to say, she decided, this had probably been the furthest from what her guardian had expected.

“You worry about my opinion of you?”

Jaax’s voice was rough, his manner guarded.

Jahrra simply nodded and shrugged self-consciously, at a loss for words. Jaax seemed to be so as well, for he remained quiet for several moments more.

“Perhaps we should call it a night,” he finally said. “I know that neither of us has had much sleep since yesterday.”

Jahrra nodded quickly, turning on her heel and heading towards the stairs that led up to her room.

As she left the great room behind Jaax watched her, his mind strangely drawn back to a late winter afternoon and his thoughts returning to a certain conversation he had had with an old woman in a dark forest several months before.

-Chapter Twenty-Four-

The Liar and the Fraud

Classes resumed the next day and Jahrra was glad to have the distraction, despite the lingering exhaustion from her long weekend. Perhaps Jaax was right; maybe she wasn’t ready for or capable of being on the front lines of the Coalition quite yet. Perhaps she should just go back to listening to what was said and keeping her input to herself.

Jahrra squashed that thought as she pressed through the woods on her way to Phrym’s stable. It was too late to move backwards and besides, she would have to learn how to work with her guardian’s colleagues eventually. True, she already discussed Coalition matters with Dathian and Anthar, and now, it seemed, Kehllor, but she had to be willing to interact with everyone. She shook her head. She would just wait and see how much damage her outburst had caused before coming to any premature conclusions.

Phrym was pleased to see her, as usual, whinnying his greeting with great fervor. The other horses and semequins

joined in, hoping that they would be paid a visit this chilly morning. The stable hand on duty helped Jahrra saddle him and soon she and Phrym were trotting down the middle of the cobbled street in the direction of the University buildings.

Jahrra didn’t get a chance to see her friends until the end of the day, for it was one of the two weekdays she didn’t share any classes with them. They waited for her in their usual corner of the practice fields. As soon as Jahrra had Phrym secured to the closest fence post, Senton broke away from his conversation with Torrell and came hurrying over.

“What happened this weekend?” he demanded in a breathless tone.

Jahrra had to step back to avoid his forward movement.

“What do you mean?” she asked cautiously.

Was he talking about what had happened at the meeting? If so, how had he found out? Everything discussed at the Coalition meetings wasn’t supposed to be known to the general public.

Senton just waved his hand about and continued, “At the Coalition meeting! Rumor has it that Raejaaxorix tossed someone out and that that pompous black Tanaan dragon who thinks he rules supreme over Lidien, Lord Rohdann, threatened to kill him.”

By now Senton had garnered the attention of those practicing nearby. Gritting her teeth, Jahrra grabbed his arm and dragged him back towards a curious Torrell.

“What’s the matter with you?” she hissed. “This couldn’t have waited until after practice and preferably somewhere where the entire population of Lidien wouldn’t overhear?”

She crossed her arms and glared at him. Senton actually blushed, something the exuberant young man wasn’t prone to doing, and rubbed the spot where Jahrra had grabbed him.

Finally, he seemed to regain some of his composure. “Everyone has already heard. In fact, people have been pestering me all day for details.”

Jahrra felt her face drain of all color and pinched the bridge of her nose. Her head suddenly hurt.

It was then that Torrell decided to join the conversation.

“You look terrible,” she said, eyeing her friend carefully

“Oh, thank you very much!” Jahrra snapped. “You would look terrible too if you’d been up all night and awake through the next day.”

Senton’s defensive posture melted away and he lowered his voice. “Jahrra, tell us what happened.”

Jahrra sighed and gave him a hard look. He looked genuinely concerned and she allowed herself to believe his reckless hastiness was a result of his worry for her.

“I’ll tell you after practice today, okay?”

“Alright,” was all Senton said.

“Now, where’s Dathian and Lohra?”

Torrell answered. “Dathian’s going to be late and Lohra . . ?” She trailed off and gave Senton a look.

He sighed and shrugged. “I don’t think she’ll be joining us any longer.”

“Why, what happened?” Torrell asked, actually sounding regretful.

Senton shrugged again, then grinned sheepishly. “Uh, difference of opinion. Don’t worry, it wasn’t working out anyway.”

Jahrra wondered what he had meant by that but she was glad her friend didn’t seem too damaged by the situation, so she didn’t press him for details. Torrell, on the other hand, did.

“Just forget it Torrell!” he snapped when she tried to prod, snatching up a wooden sword and taking a swing at her.

Luckily, Torrell’s reflexes were better than most.

The rest of that afternoon passed by in what Jahrra could only describe as observed solitude. After a half an hour of practice, Dathian showed up looking flustered. Jahrra cast him a curious glance but the look on his face told her not to ask. With a sinking feeling, she wondered if he had suffered any repercussions from her behavior at that weekend’s meeting.

As they left the practice field just before sunset, Jahrra became aware of several passersby giving them sidelong glances and even full out stares. Some people even stopped to whisper as she and her friends led their horses through the University plaza. Apparently Senton had been correct; everyone had heard about the goings on of the Coalition meeting that weekend.

Jahrra gritted her teeth. What exactly had they heard? And who had told them? Her stomach dropped and her blood suddenly felt chilled. Had Shiroxx and Rohdann already begun to seek their revenge? If anyone could spread an outrageous yet believable rumor, one that might make Jahrra look unfavorable in the eyes of the citizens of Lidien, it was Shiroxx. As if to answer at least one of her questions, someone passing by on the crowded plaza bumped Jahrra.

“Sorry,” she mumbled.

“You had better be sorry, you fraud!” the young man shot back over his shoulder.

Jahrra felt her face go white in shock. Fraud? What had he meant by that? The people pressing around them seemed to give her space, as one might give an unfamiliar, vicious looking dog a wide berth.

Jahrra felt suddenly sick. Memories from her past began to bubble up; memories she’d had no need for in a long time. She recalled that first day of school in Aldehren so long ago and all the subsequent years she’d spent in the company of the twins and their ostracizing cronies.

For a slight moment Jahrra felt real panic but she caught it early and pushed it away. No, she thought forcefully, I am not that weak girl any longer and these people have been misinformed. But those thoughts were hard to keep a hold of as she and her friends made their way to the edge of campus, the looks and whispers following her like a vulture waiting for a dying animal to keel over and expire.

Jahrra climbed atop Phrym once they came to the main thoroughfare of the city. She turned around and faced her friends, all three of them remaining uncharacteristically quiet as they mounted their own horses.

“Meet me at home in an hour or so?” she asked quietly as several other people seemed to take a more obvious and disturbed notice of her.

“Are you sure you’ll be alright riding home by yourself?” Dathian asked, moving his own horse closer.

Jahrra took a shuddering breath and nodded. She hoped so. If she hadn’t noticed the odd behavior of Lidien’s citizens before Senton had pointed it out to her, then they couldn’t be all that dangerous, right?

She made it to the stable below the hill without much fuss but before she stepped back out onto the street, she heard two girls whispering.

“I heard she was just a Nesnan and that it’s really not her fault,” the first one said.

Jahrra froze and pressed herself against the stable door, just out of sight of the street. Phrym whickered softly in confusion from his stall but Jahrra just held her hand up to silence him.

“You really think she believes she’s human?” the other girl scoffed. “I can’t believe we fell for it for so long. I mean, it’s ridiculous really. Who listens to prophecies anymore anyways?”

“I heard it was that Tanaan dragon, you know which one I mean. The scowling, so-called leader of that Coalition of theirs. Supposedly he’d been looking for a human child for years and years. I think he just got tired of looking and grabbed the most human-like Nesnan infant he could find and has been passing her off for the real thing ever since.”

Jahrra felt her skin prickle. No. It couldn’t be true. Shiroxx was spreading lies, she had to be. Jaax would never lie to her like that. It was simply too cruel and too terrible to imagine.

“Where did you hear that Dorrah?” a young man insisted.

“My cousin,” Dorrah sniffed. “He works in one of the houses owned by a Coalition member. He said that the master of the house is a member high up in the group and knows everything that goes on among its members.”

She lowered her voice and Jahrra had to strain her ears to hear.

“He said that that dragon Raejaaxorix is far too protective of his ward. As if he is trying to keep people away so they won’t realize she isn’t human. The man also told my cousin that the dragon has all kinds of nasty secrets, ones that he would be willing to do anything to keep secret, even kill.”

The small group went suddenly quiet and Jahrra felt a flash of fear and anger. How dare they, how dare the Coalition member say such things? Or was this high ranking member really Shiroxx and her cronies? It was no wonder she’d received such wary looks and disdain that afternoon if these were the rumors being spread around.

“Well, I don’t know about all of you but I’ll be steering clear of Jahrra from now on. I don’t want my reputation tarnished because of her and I definitely don’t want that dragon coming after me if I look at her the wrong way or something.”

There was a nervous giggle from the other girl and a laugh from the man and soon Jahrra heard their voices fading away. She relaxed, not realizing she’d been so tense that she had been gripping the wood of the stable door so hard that she had to spend a few minutes picking out splinters.

At last, Jahrra was walking briskly down the narrow road that ran along the base of the hill. She was eager to reach home, for she had much to tell Jaax and a few things to ask him. Did he really have secrets so dark and damaging that he would be willing to kill to keep them safe? No. Jahrra shook her head, hoping to dislodge that terrible thought before it grew into anything worse. Jaax would not kill someone simply because they learned something damaging about him. She didn’t doubt he had his own list of things he wanted no one else to know, but could any of them really be dangerous?

Jahrra practically ran up the hill after finding the trailhead. Several minutes later she pushed through the small door into the house, breathing heavily and startling Neira into dropping a basket of rolls she’d been carrying to the kitchen.

“What on Ethöes are you so blustered about?” she demanded, placing her hands on her hips as Jahrra finished up with replacing the rolls in the basket.

“Bad day,” she managed between gasps, “rumors, about the emergency Coalition meeting.”

Neira went suddenly still, her mouth forming a thin line and her brown eyes going wide.

“Master Jaax is in his study,” was all she said as she swept past Jahrra to continue on with her dinner preparations.

Jahrra just sat on the ground for a few moments, her hands placed on her thighs as she knelt and caught her breath. Finally she stood up slowly, her muscles complaining after the hard run she’d given them, and headed towards Jaax’s quarters on the west side of the house. She stepped into the great hall and stood next to the towering entryway framing his office.

The Tanaan dragon sat behind his great desk, staring at several scrolls rolled out in front of him. Before she called for his attention, Jahrra simply watched him. It was a rare moment indeed to find Jaax with his guard down. He looked weary, the same weariness that had plagued him for the past several weeks. All the tension of keeping a straight face and an alert, unhindered demeanor was gone. This was the Jaax the gossipmongers had hinted at; the dragon who hid behind his façade of strength and resolve. This was the dragon with secrets.

Just then Jahrra realized something. She had intended to burst in, regaling to her guardian what she had heard and demanding that he ensure her that he wasn’t the creature the city dwellers claimed him to be. That was what she had planned to do and that is what the old Jahrra would have done. And you would have stormed away in anger to fester in your room when he didn’t provide you with what you wanted, she thought ruefully.

No, she would not demand answers, for she had realized that everyone had secrets and everyone had a right to keep those secrets or tell them to others. She couldn’t demand this from Jaax just as he could not demand her secrets from her. And she was definitely guilty of harboring a secret . . . or twenty. She would be a hypocrite to be angry and resentful if she herself wasn’t willing to share her own past and present infractions while demanding to know those of her guardian.

Jahrra cleared her throat and Jaax darted his head up. For just a few moments before pulling his mask of indifference back on, Jahrra saw his thoughts. Frustration, concern, sorrow . . . but just as quickly it was all wiped clean, his look now hard and controlled. For a moment Jahrra felt a flash of anger and disappointment. Why does Jaax feel he needs to hide things from me? She shook that thought away immediately, remembering her recent decision about secrets and the need to keep a few, and stepped into the room.

Jaax looked at her, long and hard, then drew a breath and said, “What have you been hearing?”

She shouldn’t have been surprised he knew but she flinched anyway. Swallowing hard, she opened her mouth and answered him, “Apparently I’m not the human child Ethöes sent and you are simply a liar looking for fame and glory.”

Jaax nodded once and looked down at his desk. He didn’t say anything for a moment. When he looked back up he didn’t appear troubled, as Jahrra had expected, but calculating.

“To be honest, I’m surprised this didn’t happen sooner.”

Jahrra drew her eyebrows in. She opened her mouth to speak but Jaax held up a scaly hand. “There will be questions and doubts, there always are in cases such as these.”

That surprised her. “In cases such as these?”

She felt her spine stiffen as the familiar sensation of irritation grew in the pit of her stomach. “Are you saying you’ve done this before? Are you saying that their speculations are true? Jaax,” Jahrra moved forward again, “have you been lying to me, again? Is this all a hoax?”

The dragon shot her an angry glare. “Of course not!” he hissed, “I’ve never, nor will I ever, present a false savior to the people of Ethöes.”

“You wouldn’t be tempted then?” she said once her initial distaste at the idea passed. “To find a Nesnan child who looks human enough to pass off as one? No one has seen a human in five hundred years, Jaax. It would be so easy to pull the wool over their eyes. I mean, if your job was to find a human girl, and despite looking for centuries, you couldn’t find one, it’s understandable if you got frustrated. If people started talking, saying you were incompetent . . .”

Jahrra had been so focused on her rant that she hadn’t noticed her guardian’s movement across the room. In fact, she didn’t realize he was sitting right in front of her, his face lowered to hers, until he spoke.

“Jahrra,” he said sharply.

“I could see where you could be driven-”

“JAHRRA!”

Jahrra stared at the floor and blinked at the ring on Jaax’s finger, the red speck lodged within the blue stone sparking once as if scolding her for her accusations; her disloyal insinuations. She took a breath and closed her eyes. Her fists were clenched and her arms were shaking. Shock spilled through her. How had she become so angry and upset?

“Jahrra, listen to me,” Jaax’s voice softened, “this is exactly how they want you to respond to all this, those responsible for these rumors.”

Jahrra swallowed the lump in her throat and clawed a loose strand of hair behind her ear. She nodded, blinking several times and breathing through her nose.

“I did lie to you, for seventeen years I did. But it was to protect you, not to alienate you.”

Jaax took a pained breath. “You know this.”

Jahrra nodded again, afraid to look him in the eye. What had she been thinking? Saying all those awful things? What she had heard in the city wasn’t so bad that she should react this way. What was wrong with her?

As if to answer her question, Jaax continued, “This is Shiroxx’s doing, I’m sure of it. The words I heard today had the pall of negative magic hanging around them. I think she managed to spell the rumors she repeated in order to cause you to become more upset than you would have had they simply been the ignorant musings of a passing servant.”

The small tremors that had been pulsing through Jahrra’s body calmed and she unclenched her hands. Finally, she looked up at her guardian. He wasn’t upset. At least, he wasn’t upset at her.

“I’m sorry,” she breathed.

“It wasn’t your fault,” Jaax answered in similar tones. “But you don’t need to fear their gossip. You are human and no matter what they think or say that won’t change.”

A silence fell over the room and Jahrra suddenly felt cold. Jaax noticed and said, “Go sit by the fire in the great room and try to warm up.”

Jahrra sighed and turned to go, leaving Jaax to his studies.

Once clear of the hallway, she scooped up a blanket and plopped down in the stuffed chair that was closest to the fire. Neira came in as soon as she was settled with a cup of tea, black with cream and honey just the way Jahrra liked it. She smiled up at the housemaid and Neira clucked her tongue and patted the girl’s head.

“I very nearly punched a scullery maid in the market today because of what she was saying about you and Master Jaax.”

Jahrra sighed and grinned, the steam from her tea warming her face. “Thank you Neira,” she murmured.

The woman leaned down and grasped Jahrra’s shoulders. “Don’t let the negative thoughts of others form the opinions of those you know best,” she whispered, then kissed Jahrra on the top of her head before leaving the room to return to her chores.

Jahrra thought those were the wisest words she had heard in a long time and eagerly took them to heart.

Several minutes later her friends arrived. Jahrra was glad to see them, despite her shaken and disgruntled mood. She was especially glad when Torrell crossed her arms and lowered her eyebrows.

“So, do explain this nonsense I keep hearing about Jaax spreading lies,” she demanded, her dark brown eyes snapping with ire.

“Calm down Torrell, you’ll frighten Jahrra,” Dathian said in his usual, practical voice.

He gave her a look meant to be comforting as he took a seat on the couch across from her.

Torrell just snorted, plopping down on the armrest that Dathian had settled against.

“But what happened this weekend Jahrra? Three days ago you were like a well-loved celebrity,” Senton said, taking the seat across from the couch. “It’s as if someone went around telling everyone that you kicked puppies in your free time or something.”

Jahrra scowled in his direction, but Torrell only nodded. “Senton’s right,” she said, crossing her ankles as she found a better position on the arm rest. “Everyone was finally getting used to seeing you around the city and now it’s as if they want to tar and feather you.”

“And the rumors are more vicious this time, not like before,” Senton started to say before Torrell lodged a well-placed kick to his shin.

Jahrra sat up straight in her chair, setting aside her empty tea cup and letting the blanket fall to the ground. She didn’t care; she felt warm all of a sudden.

“What rumors?” she demanded.

Senton was rubbing his shin and Torrell heaved a great sigh, “Nice job, Senton.”

“There were rumors before this?” Jahrra said in surprise. How could she not have known? How had she not heard them?

She cast a glance at Dathian for he would know more than the rest of them. The look he gave her proved that he did, but to elaborate or explain what he knew at that moment would risk revealing his secret.

Senton sighed, “A few, but it was mostly curious onlookers voicing what everyone thought. Sorry,” he mumbled, giving Torrell a wary glance, “thought you already knew about them.”

Jahrra blinked, her mind whirling with astonishment. So this entire time, some of the citizens of Lidien thought she was a fraud? The idea made her stomach knot with unease. It shouldn’t really shock her. After all, she’d been reluctant to believe who she was at first. In fact, it was probably good that these early rumors never did reach her ears; they very well may have put a large dent in her self-confidence.

“You have to understand Jahrra,” Dathian cut into her thoughts, pulling his tall frame up from his relaxed position on the couch. “Humans are extinct, they no longer exist. The thought of one being found, although prophesied by the Oracles, was a thought of fancy. The people of Ethöes lost their faith in this over time. It’s only natural for people to be doubtful.”

“But what I heard today was far beyond a healthy amount of curiosity and doubt,” Torrell interjected. “The lies being tossed around on the streets are so far stretched and exaggerated that you would have to be a complete and utter fool to believe them.”

Jahrra blushed. Hard. She had believed them; at least she’d believed some of them were possible.

Torrell sighed and suddenly looked slightly vulnerable. “Yet, I felt myself drawn in with even the most ridiculous of the lot. I’m sorry Jahrra,” she continued, looking at her friend with an apology written all over her dark face, “I didn’t want to believe them and my original intention, while coming over here with Senton and Dathian, was to demand explanations from you and your guardian. What was I thinking?”

Jahrra felt the flush slowly leave her face. So, Jaax had been right. The words were hexed.

She looked then at her other two friends. “Dathian? Senton?”

Both young men glanced away, unable to meet her eyes.

“I’d grown angrier and angrier all day Jahrra,” Senton admitted. “I thought it was because of what people were saying about you and Jaax but later I realized I was becoming angry with you, for lying to us for so long. It was only when I got to the base of the hill that I began to think about why I was angry.”

Dathian nodded in agreement then grinned sheepishly and shrugged, “I don’t even remember riding here.”

Jahrra suddenly felt a flash of relief, followed closely by fear. These rumors could be a lot worse than she and Jaax had originally thought. Could they have the power to compel people to act out violently?

She shot up out of her chair, taking her friends by surprise.

“Where are you going?” Torrell called.

“I have to tell Jaax!” Jahrra threw over her shoulder as she turned down the hall.

The Tanaan dragon was still at his desk, toiling over a few more letters when Jahrra came charging through the entry.

Jaax looked up in surprise.

“Senton, Torrell and Dathian are here,” she breathed, “and I think you should come out and hear what they have to say.”

The dragon’s look hardened but he nodded once and rose from behind the desk.

Upon reentering the great room Jahrra noted her three friends sitting or leaning against the couch, all of them trying and failing to adopt a relaxed posture. They looked up at Jahrra, then beyond her towards Jaax. No one ever looked away once they laid eyes on the dragon; that was just something Jahrra had grown used to.

Jaax stepped through the opening and narrowed his eyes. When he spoke it was in kruelt, “Keíht íst aebíy drothe?” Why are they here?

Jahrra blinked and had to think for a moment. Jaax hadn’t used kruelt with her since they’d left the Hrünahn Wilders behind.

“Apparently you were correct on your theory about the rumors,” she eventually answered in the same language. “All three of them told me they became angry at us after hearing the gossip, but it faded as they made their way here to confront us.”

Jaax stiffened and his jaw tightened. “I didn’t think it would be as bad as this,” he continued in the dragons’ tongue. “Now I’m not sure if it’s safe for us to leave the house.”

A sudden thought hit Jahrra. “How did you find out about it in the first place then?”

Jaax grinned down at her, “Kehllor.”

“I’m sorry to interrupt, but I’m just wondering if you could please speak in the common language. I’m not sure if you’re planning to set us on fire or welcome our presence.”

Of course it was Torrell speaking, though her voice didn’t carry her usual confidence. Her arms were still loosely crossed, one leg draped over the arm of the couch where she sat, but there was a tension about her as if she were preparing to flee.

Dathian and Senton merely sat still, staring up at Jaax and nodding when Torrell was finished.

Jahrra smiled, “Sorry. Old habit of ours.”

Although she trusted her friends, Jaax would never openly discuss anything he considered to be sensitive material pertaining to himself and his ward in the presence of others.

“It appears a previous member of the Coalition has been trying to soil mine and Jahrra’s names,” Jaax said coolly.

“Previous member?” Senton spoke up, shifting so he was facing Jahrra and Jaax.

Jahrra gave her guardian a look and Jaax returned it with that short nod of his that told her to go ahead.

Jahrra took a breath, “Jaax had to, uh, let go of a member the other night. This particular individual was becoming a bit too,” Jahrra struggled with the right words, “self-involved for the health of the organization.”

Sketching a quick glance at Jaax to see how she handled that, Jahrra caught a slight grin of approval. She breathed a sigh of relief but only on the inside.

“So this person has decided to seek revenge,” Senton pronounced, nodding his head in understanding.

“Most likely,” Jaax growled, “but I fear the damage may be greater and more widely spread than we had thought.”

Everyone was quiet for a moment, watching the afternoon sun trace long shadows across the stone floor.

“What can we do?” Torrell asked quietly.

Jahrra snapped out of her train of thought.

Jaax cleared his throat. “Ignore the rumors as best you can and try to deter people from believing them.”

Dathian actually snorted. “That might prove to be a little difficult. We ourselves believed them as far as your front door.”

Jaax gave the elf a surprised look and Dathian could only roll his shoulders apologetically.

“I don’t disagree with you,” Jaax replied, “but until I find a way to dismantle the magic that is driving these lies then that is all that can be done at the moment.”

The silence returned, that is until Torrell slapped her hands against her thighs and stood. “Well, I guess there is nothing more we can do. Perhaps we should be on our way?”

Jahrra crossed the room to get the smaller door for them, thanking them on their way out.

“Hang in there Jahrra,” Senton said, squeezing Jahrra’s arm on his way out, his blue eyes lighting up with his smile.

Jahrra smiled back, though it was only half-heartedly. Her life had finally been running smoothly without any major obstacles, and now this. At least I have friends, she told herself as she watched Torrell, Dathian and Senton gather their horses and lead them down the drive.

When she could no longer see them, Jahrra gently closed the door and heaved a great breath. She leaned her back against the sturdy wood and pressed her hand to her forehead, closing her eyes.

“This is bad, isn’t it?” she asked aloud.

She felt Jaax approach more than heard him, so she wasn’t surprised when his voice was nearby. “It is.”

Jahrra shoved her hands in her pockets and opened her eyes again. Jaax sat several feet away, his look suddenly one of guilt. Jahrra’s relaxed posture melted away in an instant and she became suddenly tense.

“What’s wrong?” she asked.

Jaax lifted an inquiring eyebrow, but Jahrra pushed away from the door and walked up to him.

“Something is off. You have that look about you, as if you are on the threshold of telling me some bad news.”

Jaax tried to laugh, “You have always had quite the imagination Jahrra.”

Jahrra wasn’t having any of it. She crossed her arms and glared at her guardian. “Don’t patronize me. I know every one of your looks and what they mean. This one,” her gesture included all of him, “means you are harboring some uncomfortable information you’ll eventually have to share with me. So, might as well get it out while the mood is grim.”

The Tanaan dragon gave her a look of surprise, but shook his head and sighed deeply. “Very well,” he said, sobering up rather quickly. “Now is as good a time as any, especially with these recent, shocking circumstances.”

Jaax took on a more serious face and looked directly at Jahrra, “My visit with the king of the Creecemind dragons in Nimbronia proved more informative than I had anticipated. He’s explained to me that he is ready to receive my presence at his court and that I should bring you, the human child, with me.”

Jahrra flinched and felt herself go numb. “Your trip to Nimbronia a few weeks ago . . . ?”

He nodded. “A private meeting with his majesty, discussing when he might expect us. But there’s more,” he paused and looked back towards the fire. After a moment, he turned and gave her a dark look, “Cierryon’s men have found a way into Felldreim.”

Jahrra felt the air leave her lungs and she thought her knees were going to give out.

When the roaring in her head ceased and her vision cleared, she found her voice, “But, they can’t penetrate the outer borders of Felldreim, can they? I thought that was impossible, that the magic contained in this province is so strong those, those,” Jahrra was ranting, panic laced her voice and she started to pace to keep from collapsing, “those, butchers, could never get in!”

“No, they shouldn’t have,” Jaax said, his voice hard, “but they did, and I have no idea how long it will take them to reach Lidien.”

Jahrra stopped her pacing and threw him a look of shock. “And you’ve known this for two weeks?!” She sat down in the chair closest to her, her eyes wide and her face paling.

“You’ve known the Tyrant’s soldiers are headed this way, and you didn’t tell me?”

The hurt and disbelief in Jahrra’s voice cut at Jaax. “I wanted to tell you earlier,” he said quietly, “right after I returned from Nimbronia; after I had a chance to scour the edges of Felldreim’s wilderness to see for myself if the information was legitimate.”

Jahrra had her elbows on her knees and her face in her hands. It was too much, just too much. The ousting of Shiroxx, the threats from Rohdann, the sudden appearance of Denaeh and the rumors that threatened to turn them into a pair of monsters. And now Jaax was telling her that the king of the Creecemind, an ally they desperately needed, was calling her to come pay a visit in Nimbronia and that the Crimson King’s soldiers, those who were out to destroy her, had invaded a province they should never have been able to enter in the first place. Jahrra’s head was spinning and she had no idea how to make it stop.

“I’ve failed again, haven’t I?”

Jaax’s voice was so soft, so pained, that Jahrra woke up from her stupor to look at him.

Finally, the tension she saw around his eyes and his out-of-character frustration made sense. He’d been trying to find the best time to tell her all of this, but one thing had happened after another and he’d had to put it off.

“Failed?” Jahrra asked, her throat raw with confusion and barely checked emotion.

Jaax nodded. “Failed to include you, failed to trust you,” he breathed deeply, “failed to break bad news to you gently.”

Jahrra cringed at that but forced the terrible memories to the back of her mind before they could surface. She would not let her memories wander back to the afternoon Hroombra had died; how Jaax had been the one to tell her . . .

“No,” she said hoarsely, shaking her head, “no.”

“Jahrra,” Jaax started to say.

“No,” she answered more forcefully, sitting up straight in the chair. “I’m not angry, at least not at you. You’ve had enough on your mind as well.”

She sighed and looked down at her hands, her fingers gently laced. “You had much on your mind then also,” she said quietly, almost as an afterthought, referring to that year-old memory they both had no wish to revisit.

A long silence spread before them, one that could have lasted forever. Jahrra finally understood why Jaax had kept all those secrets from her as she grew up and although he was doing nearly the same now, she was older and a bit wiser. She now understood how circumstances could force a person to hold off on telling their secrets in order to protect those they cared about.

Finally, Jahrra looked up at Jaax. He was tense again, as if he was worried about what she might say next. Jahrra heaved one more sigh and returned her gaze to the carpet.

“So, what do we do now?”

Jaax’s voice was steely; his emotions held entirely at bay, “We make ready to leave.”

-Chapter Twenty-Five-

A Visitor in the Night

The pale light of a waning crescent moon flooded through the tall windows of Jahrra’s bedroom, pooling on the floor like cool silk. Lying perfectly still in her four poster bed and staring up at the canopy above, Jahrra took a deep breath and tried to decide what had woken her. It hadn’t been a bad dream, for her heartbeat was normal and she didn’t feel clammy or terrified, nor was it a good dream; she couldn’t remember anything at all. Instead, she felt strangely restless and alert, as if her conscience knew of some approaching event but didn’t know how to tell her. Perhaps it was merely her overwhelmed emotional state from everything that had happened in the past two weeks.

Sighing and realizing she wasn’t about to go back to sleep any time soon, Jahrra threw the covers aside and dropped down to the floor. It was a cool night, what with the last chill of winter still hanging in the air, so she picked up her cloak and crept towards her door. Pulling it open with barely a sound and blessing Neira for keeping the hinges well oiled, she stuck her head out into the hallway, looking first towards the stairs leading down into the main hall of the house then in the opposite direction towards Neira’s quarters and the bathing room.

Finding the coast clear, Jahrra stepped out into the hallway and headed towards the window that she always used to access the roof terrace. From the position of the moon she could tell that dawn wasn’t too far off and since she wasn’t going to be able to sleep the rest of the night anyway, she might as well sit out on the patio and enjoy the view of the early morning constellations.

This side of the house didn’t face the bay but Jahrra wasn’t seeking the moon’s reflection off of the water, nor the scattered candle-lit windows of Lidien that would blink back at her like faded, yellow stars. She simply wanted to breathe some fresh air and let her mind be at ease; perhaps give her nerves a chance to recompose themselves. She padded across the cool surface of the patio, her bare feet finding some comfort on the rough stones below them. She chose to sit on the bench closest to the kitchen chimney and outdoor fire pit where once, months ago, she and her friends had enjoyed an evening together.

Taking a seat and leaning against the wall, Jahrra sighed deeply and drew her cloak around her. Perhaps the still night was a bit colder than she had anticipated. She scoured the silver lit terrace, smiling at the silhouettes of her apple trees, their leaves just starting to come in. The thought of the sweet tang of apples in the fall danced across her mind before the sudden disappointment of yesterday’s conversation trilled through her memory. She and Jaax would not be in Lidien when her apples would be ready to eat. They would be leaving soon, perhaps in a few days’ time, abandoning friends and a feeling of belonging once again.

Jahrra bit her cheek. It was amazing to her that she could learn to love a new home so much, especially after vowing never to love any place as dearly as she loved Oescienne. But that had been before everything . . . Jahrra shook her head, grinning despite the reminded sorrow. Hroombra had once told her that perspective changes as one grows older. He had been right.

Yawning hugely, Jahrra stood up and decided to walk around, hoping the easy exercise could help bring her thoughts to a less depressing subject; to veer them away from the thought of leaving and what she would have to face outside of Lidien once they were gone.

She made her way to the stone balustrade and peeked over. The grand circular driveway was pale below, the gray crushed granite looking almost white. The fountain and small garden stood like an island in the middle, the round leaves of the water lilies still dormant beneath the water. Jahrra folded her arms and bent to lean against the stone railing. She widened her gaze and stared out into the trees blanketing their hill.

Normally, she could hear owls and other denizens of the night calling from the many branches, but tonight they were oddly silent. That prickling feeling of unease crept over her skin once again and just as Jahrra felt she should go inside and try to get back to sleep after all, something at the forest’s edge caught her eye. What appeared to be a cloaked figure rose up out of the trees, just to the left of the long drive that twined and disappeared down the hill.

Jahrra froze, her heart in her throat. She blinked hard, wondering if she was imagining things, but when she opened her eyes again the figure was still there, leaning against the nearest tree as if trying to gain support.

She straightened slowly, digging her fingers into the rough, hard granite of the terrace railing. She didn’t dare move. What if this person saw her? For a fleeting moment, Jahrra thought she might be dreaming. I never woke up at all, she told herself, I’ve been sleeping this whole time. But the prickling of her skin and the burning of her shallow breath was too real for it to be any dream.

Jahrra continued to stare at the dark figure, the lighting not clear enough to give her any idea of what color his cloak was. If it were only green, then I just might know you . . . she thought to herself. But that particular dream hadn’t visited her in months. Perhaps it was one of Shiroxx’s spies . . .

Finally the figure moved, gracefully yet almost pained, as if he or she were injured or overly fatigued. Feeling she couldn’t just stand in plain sight on the edge of the terrace any longer, Jahrra pulled back and plastered herself against the closest wall, the one just above the kitchen and the estate’s front door. She peeked around the corner and with a gasp of utter amazement and fear, she noticed the figure had stepped upon the circular drive and was now moving quickly towards the fountain. Knowing she should probably run back inside and wake Jaax and Neira, but too frightened to so much as blink, Jahrra bit her lip and flattened herself against the cold stone wall even more.

Upon reaching the fountain the figure slowed and hid among the shadows cast by the fountain’s tapered center and the well-pruned bushes that accompanied it. After some time, the stranger slipped back onto the drive, continuing towards the house, his feet barely making a sound against the crushed gravel.

Jahrra crouched down as far as she could go. She let out a silent curse, angry that she’d positioned herself between the balustrade and the edge of the kitchen chimney instead of heading closer to the window she had come through in the first place. If he tries to climb the wall to get to me . . . she thought with a shiver. But Jahrra shook her head. The stranger, whoever they might be, had been entirely fixated on the house itself; not once had he inclined his head to study the roof.

Jahrra thought she sat there for hours and when the sound of someone knocking for entrance chimed below, she nearly screamed. They pounded on the door again and again. There was a pause between each knock but the nighttime visitor never ceased repeating it. Finally, the unmistakable flicker of a candle appeared at the end of the hallway. Jahrra noted its progress as its yellow center moved down the hall, the glimmer scattered and fractured by the glass of the windows. Eventually, it disappeared down the stairs and Jahrra strained her ears for the sound of the small door window opening and for Neira’s voice to tell the stranger to kindly leave until a more decent hour of the day arrived.

The sound of sliding wood and Neira’s faint voice told Jahrra that it was safe for her to slip back into her room. The last thing she needed was for someone to find her out on the terrace at this hour and as soon as Neira told the stranger to be gone, she would be back up the stairs, grumbling about people calling early in the morning. More than likely, the housekeeper would look in on Jahrra to make sure she hadn’t been woken. If she didn’t want to be found missing, Jahrra had to move quickly.

Gathering herself up and getting ready to rush towards the window, Jahrra paused only long enough to hear Neira say, “I shall get him straight away.”

Relaxing, Jahrra stood back against the wall. The reasonable part of her conscience told her to get back inside and go to bed, but her inner voice insisted she stay and see what would come of this strange visit. Biting her lip as she warred with herself, Jahrra decided to wait a few moments more. Finally, the sound of the great door opening made her freeze. She scooted towards the edge of the terrace and put her hands against the railing. Carefully, she angled her head so that she might catch a glimpse of the scene below and perhaps hear what was happening as well.

The golden light from within the main room of the house poured out onto the gravel drive, flooding the stranger with yellow. He looked smaller somehow in the brilliant light, but he stood his ground as Jaax’s large and ominous form stood over him. Jahrra knew the dragon was glaring at the hooded stranger even though she couldn’t see her guardian’s face. It was apparent in the stance of the visitor.

“Who are you and what is it you want?” Jaax growled. “Why have you crept up my hillside and disturbed my household in the hours before dawn? Well, explain yourself!”

Jaax sounded grouchy and Jahrra didn’t blame him, but why even bother with the stranger? What had he said to Neira to make her fetch Jaax? Besides, her guardian had a point; why come at such an early hour when no one else would be around? Jahrra got the sudden, disturbing feeling that this visitor was either dangerous or carried dangerous information. With her heart in her throat, she leaned forward to listen even more closely.

“My old friend,” a calm voice responded, “surely I need not explain to you why I have arrived in stealth?”

The hooded figure reached up and pulled back his cowl. Jaax drew in a sharp breath, his reaction obviously one of great shock. Jahrra tried desperately to catch a glimpse of their visitor but all she could see was the top of a dark head.

Jaax made a choking sound, as if he had swallowed when he meant to breathe instead.

“Impossible!” he rasped, his voice a hoarse whisper that Jahrra only caught because of the peculiar silence of the night. “It cannot be, but . . . Ellyesce?!”

The dragon stepped forward, his head swinging back and forth as he scanned the drive for what Jahrra could only imagine were eavesdroppers. She bit her lip. She didn’t blame him; perhaps he sensed her spying on them.

As if to answer her question, her guardian slipped into kruelt. At least, it sounded like kruelt. Jahrra grinned smugly as she tried to follow what was said but after a few words she realized with severe disappointment that she recognized nothing Jaax was saying. What language was this? Frustrated, she stopped trying to follow the conversation and instead focused on the tone of voice used by both her guardian and his visitor.

The dragon’s words were harsh and held a tone of bewilderment, as if he were trying very hard to hold back some long forgotten emotion or memory. Or as if he was doing his best to converse with the ghost of a long lost friend. The stranger, on the other hand, sounded weary and penitent.

Neira returned a moment later, informing Jaax and his guest that there were refreshments in the main room. Jahrra took that announcement as a cue to return to her own bed. As much as she wished to stay and catch hold of what information she could she knew that eventually Neira would be checking in on her. Besides, if the two she was spying on were to take their mysterious encounter inside she had nothing to overhear anyway.

Padding quietly back the way she had come in the first place, she wormed her way to the window, swinging it soundlessly open as she stepped into the wide hall. The voices from outside had moved indoors and were now floating up the staircase to meet her ears. Still they spoke in that strange language that sounded so similar to the dragons’ tongue.

The soft glow of a candle flame emerged below and started moving up the stairs. Her heart in her throat, Jahrra sped the few steps to her room and pulled the door open soundlessly, closing it as quickly as she dared. She threw off her cloak and ran to her bed, pulling the covers up to her chin a moment before she saw a sliver of golden light pour in through her cracked door.

The candlelight increased and a timid voice whispered, “Jahrra?”

Turning under the sheets and murmuring, Jahrra lifted her head slightly, pretending to block out the light with her hand.

“What is it Neira?” She hoped her voice sounded sleep-strained.

“Master Jaax has received a most surprising visitor,” the housekeeper said as she stepped fully into the room, pulling the door shut behind her.

Jahrra sat up, glad that her hair was still mussed. “What time is it?” she queried, pressing the heel of her hand against one eye.

“About an hour before dawn,” Neira answered. “A very strange time to receive visitors, if you ask me, but his lordship insisted once he saw who it was.”

In the dim light of the candle, Jahrra noticed Neira biting her lip and averting her eyes. The hairs on the back of Jahrra’s neck rose slightly. Did Neira suspect something?

Jahrra cleared her throat, “Who is it, Neira?”

The maid blinked up at Jahrra, her brown eyes looking dark against the weak light. “I’ve never seen him before,” she swallowed, “but he looks something frightful. Tall with dark hair, and his eyes,” Neira swallowed hard. “He looks like he’s seen the evil god’s horrible thoughts and has been chased by his minions all the way from Ghorium.”

Jahrra shivered, despite the warmth of her blankets. “Could he mean harm, do you think?” she whispered, finally climbing out of bed.

Neira shrugged. “He didn’t seem hostile, it’s just, those eyes . . .”

Jahrra walked over and placed a hand on Neira’s shoulder. “I understand,” she said, nodding.

Hadn’t she herself experienced a strange feeling when she’d spotted this person on the edge of the woods scant minutes ago? Then again, at the time she thought him to be a thief or a murderer. Or one of Shiroxx’s minions.

“So,” Jahrra breathed, shaking off her feeling of dread, “I’m guessing Jaax wishes me to present myself in a decent manner downstairs?”

Neira nodded, smiling a little. Jahrra took another breath, holding her hand to her stomach.

“Very well. If Jaax trusts him, so will I, at least for now.”

Jahrra had wanted something to draw her thoughts away from leaving Lidien and the nasty rumors that had been spread about her and her guardian. This, however, was not what she’d had in mind. If anything, she thought ruefully, this is just one more rotten blueberry to spoil the pie.

By the time Neira finished helping Jahrra dress, the first light of the morning sun was spilling over the hills. The housekeeper insisted on Jahrra wearing one of her dresses.

“It’s not your finest, I know, but this is a casual meeting, not an official visit among the nobles and notables. And we don’t know who this person is. Best to look dignified for now.”

Jahrra grinned and bore it but at least this dress was comfortable, what with it being a single long, cream-colored garment with a simple plum and gold bodice to go over the top. Jahrra was especially grateful that the sleeves were short, falling to her elbows where a set of ties kept them in place. The split overskirt was the same color as the bodice.

Neira helped brush out and braid her hair, and after stepping into a pair of matching slippers, they were finally on their way down the stairs. Jahrra felt a bit ridiculous in her outfit, considering the time of day, but she didn’t let it show on her face.

Sighing heavily as she stepped into the hallway, Jahrra felt her stomach lurch with apprehension. Forget what you saw and heard upstairs, she told herself, no one can know that you were spying.

Just before reaching the gaping arch that would take them into the great room, Neira marched ahead of her, throwing an encouraging smile over her shoulder. Jahrra breathed deeply through her nose, pressing a hand to her fluttering stomach. Would there ever come a day where she wouldn’t be burdened with worrisome surprises?

“Master Raejaax, Jahrra awaits your invitation to join you and your guest.”

Jahrra bit back a snort. It sounded as if Neira were announcing a royal princess. You are many things Jahrra, she thought to herself with a grin, but a princess you most definitely are not.

Smoothing her skirts and taking a deep breath, Jahrra stepped through the arch and into the great room. She caught Neira’s eye first. The housekeeper was standing off to the side, her gaze intent and her jaw tight as she watched Jahrra approach. Several lamps and candles were lit, casting few shadows across the room. Jaax was perched in his corner atop the wide dais, his watchful eyes locked on Jahrra’s face. Waiting for some tell-tale reaction? she mused. But why? Her guardian’s face was well composed but the harshness of his eyes and the tightness of his jaw line only confirmed Jahrra’s earlier theory that whoever this visitor was, he had been the last being in Ethöes the Tanaan dragon had expected to see.

Breathing deeply through her nose once again, Jahrra tore her eyes from the brooding dragon and turned them onto their guest instead. She stopped short when she finally took him in. Neira had described him accurately; he was tall, at least a head taller than her if not more. He had removed his cloak but his clothing was dark and simple. His near-black hair was unkempt and trimmed shorter than what was fashionable in Lidien.

Jahrra studied his face carefully, as if waiting for a list of words explaining his intentions to arise upon his skin like sentences in a book for her to read. To her disappointment, no such thing happened to help ease her curiosity. His age was hard to place for the lines around his eyes and mouth weren’t too deep, and there was no gray in his hair, but his eyes, the most striking feature on his face, said differently.

Slightly slanted and the palest shade of green Jahrra had ever seen, yet there was something oddly familiar about them. Jahrra narrowed her own eyes in scrutiny. A memory, she thought, flashed across her mind but it was too fleeting to grasp. Before she could think on it any further, the stranger stepped forward, his quick grace making her start a little.

Despite his obvious fatigue, he gave a light smile. The act changed his unkempt appearance, peeling away the layers of grime to reveal features that were much more attractive than the haunting figure she had first observed. If Jahrra didn’t know any better she would have guessed he was quite charming as well. With his closely trimmed beard and mustache, and with a little care given to his hair and clothing, Jahrra could picture him as a fine dignitary among all the socialites of Lidien.

Realizing that Jahrra would spend all day studying him if she could, their visitor cleared his throat and stepped forward. “Forgive my early arrival. I hope I have not disturbed your rest. The famous Jahrra, if I’m not mistaken?”

He sketched a fluid bow and Jahrra caught a glimpse of his ears. An elf. Of course. Only an elf could sneak up on them in the middle of the night and still manage to look handsome despite his bedraggled appearance.

Jahrra took a breath, “Oh no, you didn’t disturb me at all.”

In fact, you gave me something to do when I found myself unable to sleep and fretting over my future on my rooftop patio.

Jahrra cringed at that thought. She had a feeling that admitting to spying on him wouldn’t make him feel any less intrusive. With nothing else to say, Jahrra pressed her lips tightly together. The last thing she wanted to do was initiate an awkward exchange of small talk. She glanced over at Jaax, her brows arched in question.

“Jahrra, this is Ellyesce.”

Her guardian’s voice was guarded, as if he was working extra hard to keep it free of any and all emotion. “He’s a very old friend of mine.”

Jahrra blinked at the elf, now standing straight once again, his smile not quite joyful. She studied him some more, now even more curious about his age. Jaax had named him as a very old friend, but just how old?

Jahrra smiled and said, “Well, it’s very nice to meet you Ellyesce. What brings you to Lidien?”

Out of the corner of her eye, Jaax grimaced and Ellyesce stiffened. He shrugged and shot the Tanaan dragon a look that had more meaning behind it than what she could scrape from the surface.

“I decided it was time I come out of hiding.”

Jaax stood abruptly and said to Neira, “Could you prepare some tea please?”

Neira, who had remained frozen and silent the entire time, sketched a curtsy and disappeared through the small kitchen door. Her haste made Jahrra think she’d been wanting to leave for quite some time.

The entire exchange had been awkward, but their visitor cleared his throat again and said, “I have spent much of my time with personal endeavors of mine but I felt it was time I return to Lidien and take my place among the members of the Coalition of Ethöes.”

Jahrra arched a brow in surprise and cast a glance at Jaax. He still stood in his customary corner of the room, his tension palpable, but he nodded brusquely.

“Well,” Jahrra said as she sought the stuffed chair closest to her, “it’s always good to have more help.” I just hope you aren’t the type to be manipulated by vindictive dragonesses . . .

The conversation had turned, Jahrra could tell, in a direction not quite comfortable for either the elf or the dragon standing in front of her. A scant thirty feet or so separated them but they might as well have been standing on opposite sides of the Great Rhiimian Gorge. There was some history between these two, a history more significant than the lost time between two old friends. Jahrra, despite her nagging curiosity, was quite through with mysteries meant to tie her brain in knots. She was about to rise and bid them a good morning before going about getting ready for the rest of the day, but Ellyesce beat her to it.

He glanced over at Jaax, addressing him once again in that strange language.

Jahrra blinked in surprise. The elf’s voice was urgent and insistent, and from his body language he seemed to have forgotten all about her. That is, until he looked in her direction. Jaax hissed and cut him off, stopping whatever his old friend was about to say.

At that moment Jahrra learned that it was anger that her guardian was trying so desperately to keep at bay. Anger, fear and perhaps regret. The usual emotions Jaax worked so hard to hide. It hardly surprised Jahrra; he was always bottling things up and then letting them go in a rather explosive manner. What she was itching to know, however, was what it was they were saying.

“What language is that?” she asked, crossing her arms and forgetting about ignoring her curiosity as she sat upon the chair.

Ellyesce, looking rather exasperated shot her an aggravated glance. Jaax just grit his teeth, letting out a faint growl. The elf sighed deeply and ran his fingers through his messy hair. Surprisingly, the act managed to straighten it a little. His face softened and the dark circles under his eyes seemed to deepen. He gave Jaax a cautionary look, as if silently asking him something.

“It’s a dialect that hasn’t been used in years,” Ellyesce said, sounding immensely weary. “Forgive me for using it in front of you.”

His mouth quirked in a grin, making Jahrra’s heart soften a little. “It’s an old habit of mine. I’ll try to remember myself from now on.”

Jahrra, feeling like she could forgive him of anything, answered, “It’s quite alright, I was just curious.”

Ellyesce returned his gaze to Jaax but the dragon looked just as hardened as ever. Sighing, the elf addressed them both, “I’m afraid I’ve overstayed my visit. It’s good to see you Raejaaxorix and very lovely to meet you Jahrra, but I think I ought to go secure my living quarters if I’m to stay and aid the Coalition.”

Jahrra stood. She was about to blurt out an invitation for the elf to stay here. Jaax had a spare couch in his office, after all, but she caught herself just in time. It wasn’t her invitation to give and from the look on Jaax’s face she knew the elf, however long he’d been her guardian’s friend, was not entirely welcome here.

Jaax nodded abruptly and stood to accompany their visitor to the door. They exchanged a few more quiet words in that strange tongue and then Ellyesce stepped through the small door and into the gray morning light.

Jahrra sat back down on the chair in a huff. She waited for Jaax to turn around and explain everything to her but he continued to stand by the door, staring at it as if he could suddenly see through wood. Finally, he turned around and looked at her.

“Well?” she asked, standing up and moving closer to him, “Who on Ethöes was that? What was he doing here so early in the morning and if he is such an old friend, why didn’t you offer to let him stay with us?”

“No!” Jaax snapped. Jahrra actually started, her eyes wide in surprise. “Jahrra, you are free to ask me as many questions as you like but I am also free to pick and choose which ones I wish to answer! And these I will not.”

Jahrra was certain he would whip around and stomp back to his office. If it had had a door, she would have also waited for him to slam it. Somehow, however, Jaax got a hold of his sudden and unexpected burst of anger.

He sighed and closed his eyes, as if realizing his reaction might have been a bit harsh.

“I will share all that I can with you but some secrets, some bits of information, are mine to keep. I need time to think, time to sort everything out. For now, just know that Ellyesce is a friend from the past. From a lifetime ago, it seems, different from this one.”

He laughed; a weary, bitter laugh. Jahrra could only stand still in silence, still shocked at his violent outburst.

Looking down at her, the Tanaan dragon’s face softened. “Forgive me Jahrra,” he whispered, “but some memories are just too hard and terrible to share. I’ll be in my study, but I’d prefer it if you gave me this day to gather my thoughts.”

Blinking in utter surprise, Jahrra watched her guardian disappear through the second arch leading into the great hallway. She didn’t know how long she stood there, staring after him before Neira arrived with a tray and a piping teapot.

“Jahrra? “

She jumped and turned around. She must have appeared dazed because Neira gave her an odd look.

“Is anything amiss?” the housekeeper queried.

Jahrra swallowed, her mouth oddly dry. “N-no,” she said absently, “I don’t think I slept very well last night.”

Without giving the maid a second glance, Jahrra brushed past her, her focus and her thoughts a thousand miles away from the great room in Jaax’s manor. She climbed the stairs by habit, pushing her door open without even seeing it and shutting it securely behind her.

When she reached the bed she collapsed onto it, her head tilted on the pillow to face the great tapestry portraying the scene of Oescienne from the Castle Guard Ruin. She sighed deeply, wishing she were tired. Instead, her head was swimming. Who was this Ellyesce? Why had he snuck up on them in the middle of the night? Why had he slipped into another language when she was sure he was speaking about her? Why was Jaax so tense around him if he was an old friend? And why, why had Jaax reacted so strangely when Jahrra asked her questions once Ellyesce was gone?

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.

-Chapter Twenty-Six-

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 Mílíhn provided me with the proof I needed.”

“Mílíhn?” 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. “Mílíhn, 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. Mílíhn 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 Mílíhn 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.”

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 Ethöes 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 Mílíhn, 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 Ethöes 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 Hrünahn 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.”

She glanced over Jahrra’s shoulder and pointed. “Something tells me he is more than skilled in defense. I think he and Jaax were discussing magic late last night, after everyone else had left.”

Jahrra turned and looked at where the housemaid was pointing. Through the door she saw her guardian and his elvin acquaintance talking near the edge of the trees, far away from the bustle of the packers.

“Now,” Neira said, handing Jahrra a handkerchief, “it’s natural for us to be afraid and you have every right to be, but you are also one of the bravest young women I know. If anyone can come to the end of this journey successfully, it is you.”

Jahrra smiled half-heartedly and took the cloth offered to her. She felt slightly ashamed at her weakness but she also felt relieved to get her misgivings out in the open.

A shadow fell across the open doorway and Jahrra looked up. Jaax stood there, looking grim.

“It’s time we get going,” he said quietly.

Jahrra nodded, gave Neira one last, fierce hug and headed for the door. A footman followed behind, carrying a leather bag he had just filled with the cold-weather clothes she and Neira had been discussing.

Climbing atop Phrym, Jahrra spun and surveyed the great house one last time, its great columns and tall windows watching her as she fought her emotions. Somewhere behind her she heard Ellyesce mount his own semequin, a fine, white stallion that seemed to know the elf’s every thought.

Jahrra released one last sigh and looked at everyone standing around, her eyes lingering on Neira and Kehllor the longest. She grinned, hoping that it looked at least somewhat cheerful, and waved as she kicked Phrym closer to her guardian.

“Do you have the extra horse?” he asked Ellyesce as the elf moved his semequin close as well.

Ellyesce nodded, then looked in the direction of the tall draft horse, its back loaded down with leather bags and a few small trunks. The horse, who’d been distracted by a patch of grass, twitched and came alert, jerking forward to join the small traveling party. He was a beautiful bay and made his heavy load look light as a feather. By the way he was following after them without a lead, Jahrra came to the conclusion that Neira was right; Ellyesce did know magic. Something to delve into as we make our long journey north, she mused.

“Wait!”

Jahrra turned abruptly in her saddle to see three familiar figures hurrying up through the trees closest to the drive. It was Torrell, Dathian and Senton, looking ragged and out of breath. Jahrra felt her last defenses crumble and she didn’t even try to keep hold of the sob that escaped her throat. She hurriedly slid off of Phrym and ran to them, Jaax, Kehllor, Neira, Ellyesce and everyone else gathered watching her in silence.

Her three friends came to a stop, all of them clearly winded. Senton finally straightened and lifted a velvet bag in front of him as if it weighed several pounds.

“We couldn’t,” he gasped, “let you leave . . . without . . . getting this made for you.”

Jahrra wiped away her tears and took the bag, looking first at Senton, then Torrell, then Dathian. They all looked so depressed and Jahrra could have sworn Torrell had tears in her eyes. It just made her own tears flow even faster.

With trembling fingers, she opened the bag and upended it in her palm. An etched silver bangle as wide as her thumb but thin as a blade, became a cool presence in her hand. She blinked several times, her teary eyes making it hard to see all the details. It wasn’t exactly silver, but more of a silvery-gold, and embedded in its surface were six gemstones. No, not gemstones . . .

“We went back to the jewelers in Tynne Alley,” Torrell said somberly, her breathing finally returning to normal, “and each of us gave a drop of blood to make a spirit stone for you. We asked them to use augrím for the metal.”

Jahrra could hardly breathe. She looked up at her friends, each of them now smiling.

“Anthar, Neira and Kehllor also wanted to contribute,” Dathian said quietly, first pointing to a nearly black stone, then a golden yellow one with a noticeable heart speck and finally one that matched the deep blue of Kehllor’s eyes.

“This one is mine,” Torrell said, grinning from ear to ear and indicating a violet red stone.

“And mine,” Dathian said, touching an indigo and green stone.

Jahrra looked at the final spirit stone, a very pale blue with a heart speck taking up most of one side of it. She looked at Senton and he smiled, his eyes shining brightly with unshed tears. Of course, she thought to herself, your heart speck would be the largest because you, of all my friends, offer the largest part of your heart to others.

Jahrra cradled the bracelet like a day old baby bird, then nestled it against her cheek, the cold metal stinging her wet skin. She cast a look over her shoulder and smiled at Neira, standing next to Kehllor in the distance.

She took a deep breath and looked up at her friends. She slipped the bangle over her wrist and adjusted it so that it fit snuggly behind her wood bead bracelet.

“Thank you,” she said, her voice raw with emotion.

Without another thought, she grabbed all three of her friends and pulled them into a brutal hug. She never wanted to let go.

“I will miss you so much!” she breathed, crying once again.

They returned her embrace, the four of them standing together like the trees of an ancient forest, rooted deep and standing guard over one another. She relished this moment with her new best friends, for she hadn’t been able to bid farewell to Gieaun and Scede when they had left Oescienne.

Finally, Jahrra let go and looked each of them in the eye. “If I ever get a chance to send you word, I’ll do so. But I can’t guarantee it will be safe.”

Torrell smiled, “Maybe we’ll send a letter off to Nimbronia and it will be there waiting for you.”

“I would like that,” Jahrra admitted with a watery grin.

She hugged each of them one more time, then turned and walked back to Phrym. She mounted silently and led him further down the drive.

“You’ll see them again someday,” Jaax said quietly next to her.

Jahrra started, not realizing he had followed after her. The tears were still fresh on her cheeks and she quickly wiped them away, embarrassed.

“I’m so sorry Jahrra,” he continued.

She laughed bitterly, “For what?”

“For the fact that you had no choice in this, that you don’t get to lead a normal life. That your life has never been your own.”

Jahrra felt her heart ease a little then but she couldn’t say why. Her tears stopped and the lump in her throat seemed to diminish.

“That’s not true Jaax,” she said in all honesty, looking up at him.

The guilt of his words still lingered in his eyes but she wouldn’t allow that.

“I’ve always had a choice: to stay behind in Oescienne or to come here with you. You offered me that choice, remember? And although this life is a difficult one it is the one I chose.” She shifted in the saddle and took a deep breath. “And I do not regret it in the least.”

The words were true; she could feel that they were, even though the pain of loss and hardship floundered in her heart.

Jaax nodded and the doubt and guilt seemed to leave his face. Jahrra felt suddenly light, as if she could take on the world. She was ready for their next adventure, whether it brought joy or sadness, fear or comfort, triumph or failure, she didn’t know. All she knew was that she was determined, more than ever, to face what lie ahead.

With one last farewell from their friends, Jahrra, Jaax and Ellyesce wound their way down the drive and eventually through the still sleepy city of Lidien and onwards, towards Nimbronia.

-Epilogue-

A Betrayal in the Making

The view from the grand oculus in the roof overlooking Essýel Hall was not the best, but a sizeable crack in the ancient glass allowed anyone peering through it to hear every word that was spoken from the crowded room far below.

At this moment, the one speaking was the Tanaan dragon Kehllor and even from this height it was clear he was nervous.

Shiroxx curled a lip in disgust, barely hanging on to her rage. It would be so easy to launch herself through the delicate glass and glide down to the stage below, unleashing a torrent of fire upon the ungrateful little runt. But that would be the act of a petulant child and she was not a petulant child. She would bide her time, as she had before, in order to get what she wanted.

The spelled rumors she and Rohdann had spread throughout the city several weeks ago had, to her bittersweet disappointment, not been as damaging as she’d wished. They had obviously paid that bungling fortune teller too much for her shoddy magic. She was obviously nothing more than a washed up herb witch and no manner of brightly colored saffron dye in her hair could cover the fact that she was a fraud. Rohdann should have seen that, and she had let him know her disappointment.

That insolent girl had been rattled by their efforts, for sure, but unfortunately Jaax had talked her through it, as he always did.

Shiroxx gritted her teeth and puffed smoke through her nostrils, the pale streams of gray rising up into the dark sky to join the stars. How could he coddle such a creature so? She was so dependent, so needy. How could he stand it? And how could he truly think she could ever encounter the Crimson King and achieve the destiny she was called to fulfill?

Shiroxx shook her head. There was only one explanation. Jahrra wasn’t truly human. She couldn’t be. Ethöes surely would have sent them someone much more steadfast and stronger of character. It wasn’t Jaax’s fault and Shiroxx did regret dragging his name through the mud after all, but how else would he see the truth? Those meddlesome elves of Crie had bewitched him and Hroombra had as well. Jaax always had sought out the old Korli’s good opinion and advice.

Gritting her teeth and pushing her thoughts aside for later, Shiroxx returned her attention to the golden dragon below. Traitor. He faltered with his speech, some long-winded explanation of why Jaax had left him in charge. Ridiculous! It didn’t matter that the runt was supposed to be sharing leadership duties with a handful of others. How could Raejaaxorix leave such responsibilities in the hands of an untried, inept youth?

A change of voices in the crowd drew the red dragon’s attention back to the meeting taking place below. The centaur Anthar and the elf Dathian were speaking now, both standing beside Kehllor and vowing to uphold the Coalition in Jaax’s absence.

Shiroxx actually snorted this time, not worrying about those below her hearing it. But the sound of Rohdann’s voice forced her to strain her ears.

“How do we know that Jaax and his ward didn’t run off because they are guilty of the rumors we’ve all been hearing?”

Shiroxx grinned. Well done, she mused, I almost forgive you for your poor handling of those rumors now.

Rohdann had ambition, Shiroxx knew that, and she loved nothing more than ambition. But he wasn’t Jaax . . .

“We’re not here to discuss vicious rumors, Rohdann,” one of the Korli dragons growled. “Lord Raejaax addressed that issue two weeks ago, just before he and Jahrra left, because of a threat to the Chosen by outside forces. Those rumors were tainted with negative magic and obviously spread to cause corruption among the members of our cause.”

Rohdann snarled and opened his mouth to argue again but was cut off by a torrent of discussion among those members closest to the stage.

Shiroxx gritted her teeth, again. Why wasn’t Rohdann pressing harder? If she had been down there with him she would have made sure of it. Curse those who had agreed with her ousting, and curse them twice over for continuing to follow through with Jaax’s orders after his absence.

This whole organization was losing focus, growing weak and far too accepting of the false human that had somehow won Jaax over.

The slate tiles of the rooftop squealed under Shiroxx’s claws as she once again fought against her anger. The voices of the people far below her grew steadily until they had once again dissolved into another wave of arguments. It was nothing new to Coalition meetings but what with her recent expulsion and the departure of their fearless leader and his fraudulent ward, the quarreling was more frequent and more vicious in nature.

Shiroxx cast one last glance through the dome shaped window, checking Rohdann’s position, a black smudge in the top corner of the room, before turning her head away. She could wait for him and see how this particular meeting ended but she had another appointment, one that the black Tanaan dragon was not privy to. However useful and reliable Rohdann was to her, this other scheme of hers did not include him.

Taking a fresh breath and spreading her wings, Shiroxx climbed to the edge of the great University building and dove into the air, gaining altitude as the lights of Lidien after dark glittered below her. She soared over the cityscape, taking a leisurely pace as she moved eastward.

It was an hour later, somewhere in the hills below the Hrünahn Mountains, that she had a secret meeting with her contact.

Landing delicately on a barren hilltop, Shiroxx folded her wings and cast her sharp eyes around, scrutinizing her surroundings for anything out of place. Tall pines grew in clumps all around her but she was just able to detect a figure standing back in the shadows.

She snorted, “Show yourself Boríahs, for it grows late and I must be back in the city before dawn.”

The figure, a tall creature in a dark cloak, stepped forward with the agile movements of an experienced assassin. He made no sound as he strode nearer, his face hiding beneath the hood of his cloak. When he approached the Tanaan dragon, however, he threw back the cowl to reveal a shaved head and a bedraggled face scarred with the brand of the Crimson King.

Shiroxx curled her lip in disgust. Despite her own resolve, the strange man made her feel uneasy. His dark, sharp eyes held no remorse and an uncomfortable degree of brutish intelligence. He would not be one to double cross, for she was sure he was the type of person who had no capacity for mercy. Nevertheless, she treated him as she treated everyone she didn’t trust: with disdain.

“You’re too late with your men,” she said coolly. “Jaax and his ‘human’ have left Lidien.”

The man growled in irritation. Shiroxx wondered what exactly his lineage was. Too broad in the shoulders to be purely elvin, not short enough to be a dwarf. Probably some combination of Nesnan and something else. Another reason not to like him; too many bloodlines to keep track of.

“They got away in Oescienne as well. Was that not also your fault?” Boríahs rasped.

Shiroxx whipped her head around and hissed. “You acted prematurely! You were only supposed to spy on her, not kill her guardian!”

Despite all her spiteful determination, Shiroxx had never meant any harm to come to Hroombra. She had liked the old dragon, despite his softness of heart, but this was a time of war and during wartimes casualties were to be expected.

“I took advantage of an excellent opportunity!” Boríahs snapped. “And you were not even in the province at the time, so I knew you could never be implicated. And as for that old Korli dragon . . . His death was very much welcomed by my Master and colleagues, so I do not regret it.”

His face hardened and his dark eyes narrowed in the pale moonlight. He took a breath and spoke again, to no one in particular it seemed.

“My priorities are to my Master. You, my dear dragoness, sought me out asking for petty favors, so don’t feel so betrayed when I don’t bow down to your every whim.”

Shiroxx curled her lip and snarled, “Yes, and in return I hand over Jahrra. Is she or is she not the grand prize your so-called master desires above all? If he needs to employ trifling little rats such as yourself to find her, then he must still be quite feeble from his last attempt at destroying the world.”

The Tyrant’s servant bristled. “He is stronger than you think, and I’d be very careful of my words if I were you, Shiroxx.”

“Yes, yes,” she said, dismissing his threat rather boorishly. She was tired of this game.

She heaved a great sigh and closed her eyes. She had goals and ambitions, her own plans and aspirations. This sniveling simpleton was only a tool, a way to get what she desired. And what she desired was well worth the price . . .

“As much as I’d like to linger and chit chat with you, I have other obligations I must see to. You may have been too late this time to trap Jahrra in Lidien but if you hurry you might just catch up to them. They left about two weeks ago and they are heading for Nimbronia.”

The man made a sound of outrage. “If they make it to that city, there will be no catching them!”

Shiroxx sniffed as she turned to leave. “Then you had best hurry. Just remember,” she growled as she spread her wings before take off, “when you deliver the prize over to your master and he regains the power he lost five centuries ago, don’t forget to tell him my price; what it is he owes me for my aid.”

Without waiting for an answer, she launched herself into the sky, heading back in the direction of Lidien as the sun peeked over the eastern mountains.

As the red dragon disappeared against the pale dawn sky, Boríahs watched with a sneer on his face. Oh I’ll tell him what you want, Tanaan dragon, he mused, but I doubt you will receive it.

Pronunciation Guide

Anthar – AN-thar

Archedenaeh – ARK-uh-di-nay-uh

Cahrume – CUH-roo-muh

Ciarrohn – CHI-ron

Cierryon – CHAIR-ee-on

Dathian – DA-thee-en

Dhonoara – DEN-or-uh

Edyadth – ED-ee-adth

Ellyesce – EL-ee-ess

Ellysian – EL-lis-ee-en

Ethöes – ETH-oh-es

Eydeth – AY-deth

Felldreim – FELL-dreem

Gieaun – JOON

Hroombramantu – HROOM-bruh-mon-too

Jahrra – JARE-uh

Kehllor – KELL-or

Kiniahn Kroi – KIN-ee-an KROY

Kruelt – KROOLT

Lensterans – LENS-ter-ans

Lidien – LI-dee-en

Magehn – MA-jen

Mílíhn – MEE-leen

Neira - NARE-uh

Nesnan – NESH-nan

Nimbronia – nim-BRO-nee-uh

Oescienne – AW-see-en

Phrym – FRIM

Raejaaxorix – RAY-jax-or-iks

Resai – RESH-eye

Rohdann – ROW-den

Sahrielle – SAW-ree-ell

Scede – SADE

Semequin – SEM-ek-win

Senton – SEN-tun

Shiroxx – SHEE-rox

Sobledthe – SO-bledth

Tanaan – TAN-en

Torrell – TOR-ell

Viornen – VEE-or-nin

Wreing Florenn – WRAING flor-EN

Yaraa – YAR-uh

ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

I’d like to extend my gratitude once again to my family and friends, who have been with me from the start and who continue to stand by my side. For your support, encouragement and enthusiasm in my writing endeavors: I am forever grateful.

I would also like to thank my readers, those of you who have picked up the Oescienne series and found something that brought you joy. I hope you have enjoyed the journey so far and I hope that it will continue to offer you a place of escape and wonder.

To my fellow author friends who know what it is to become ensorcelled by the written word and for sacrificing your time and hard work to create your own stories; thank you for lending your support and advice and for being the creators of new and exciting worlds.

Many thanks to the Orr family for your encouragement and accompaniment on my journeys into the world of Nature: a place where I can always find comfort and inspiration. For seeking out adventures away from the beaten path and for reminding the rain that it is a means to enhance the plot, not to dampen it.

An extra special thanks to Christopher Sill, fellow indie author and an endless well of inspiration in his own right: your dedication and determination have encouraged me to spend those extra hours fine-tuning my stories into something grand.

Finally, I would like to extend my appreciation to the baristas of my local Starbucks, for your kind smiles, welcome conversation and for providing me with my comfortable little corner during the wee hours of the morning whenever I’m seeking a safe and cozy place to write.

ABOUT THE AUTHOR

Jenna Elizabeth Johnson grew up and still resides on the Central Coast of California, the very place where the Legend of Oescienne first began to blossom into the epic it has become.  "The province of Oescienne is based primarily on the topography of this area, and some specific locations in the novel reflect actual sites.  These places are dear to me, and I wanted to share their natural magic with those who might read my books."

Miss Johnson has a BA in Art Practice with a minor in Celtic Studies from the University of California at Berkeley.  It was during her time in college that she decided to begin her first novel, "I had these stories stored away in my head and had even sketched out some ideas during my studio time.  One day it dawned upon me that if I didn't write these stories down, then I would be the only one ever to enjoy them.  Furthermore, reading such works as Beowulf, The Mabinogi and The Second Battle of Maige Tuired in my Scandinavian and Celtic Studies courses only added fuel to the fire."

Having a degree in art has also aided her in the creation of the world of Ethöes.  The cover images, the map of Oescienne and all of the artwork found on her website, www.oescienne.com, was done by the author. "Having a picture, especially a map, helps me to visualize the story more completely.  I hope that the images I have placed on my site will help my readers get a better idea of what my world looks like.  Of course, you are always welcome to disregard them if the images you have in your head are better than the ones I offer."

Besides writing and drawing, Miss Johnson enjoys reading, gardening, camping and hiking.  She also loves animals and bird watching and has many bird feeders set up in her garden at home.

Jenna Elizabeth Johnson can be contacted at jejohnson@oescienne.com