The Awakening (47 page)

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 augrim 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 farther 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 Essyel 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. Ethoes 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 Hrunahn 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, Boriahs, 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?” Boriahs 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!” Boriahs 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, Boriahs 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.