The Beginning (16 page)

Jahrra sat there atop her restless semequin, eyes shut tight and waiting for the impact. She could hear Scede, sounding as far away as the ocean, yelling at her to shoot. She could hear Aimhe whinnying in fear somewhere far ahead of her. She could feel Phrym’s muscles tensing beneath her, and she could hear her conscience telling her to save a life, to save anyone’s life.

Just then, when Jahrra thought she could wait no longer, a great shadow overtook the pleasant yellow darkness of her inner mind and a terrible screech filled the air, a screech that sounded something like a cross between that of an eagle and that of a dragon.

Gieaun screamed, Scede yelled out in surprise, and the horses snorted and stamped in terror. Phrym squealed and blew out a great breath, but he seemed to have nowhere to bolt. A blast of wind tossed Jahrra’s long braid and the dull beat of a pair of great wings buffeted her ears. She quickly opened her eyes, still aiming her arrow, but dropped her bow in shock as she caught sight of what stood before her.

A great animal, smaller than a dragon but larger than anything else she had ever seen in Oescienne, was looming no more than twenty feet away. The cat had vanished, and she could see that Scede had made his way over to Gieaun and was scrambling, unsuccessfully, to get her back onto Aimhe, the whole time looking at the great creature in naked horror. Jahrra tried to pull Phrym around to run, but they were trapped in the small corner of the canyon that began to curve northward.

At first Jahrra thought that this monster was a type of dragon Hroombra had once talked about. Its wings were definitely like that of a dragon, and from the torso down the entire length of its body, it was scaled. It also had a long reptilian tail, complete with a spiked end. The wings, too, had very long daggers at their tips and the creature’s hind feet had five toes, each equipped with a razor sharp talon. The fifth toe, when the beast stood on its hind legs, which it was doing at the moment, didn’t touch the ground and looked like it would be used mostly for gripping.
Gripping victims
, Jahrra thought as her blood ran cold and her skin turned clammy. The upper half of the creature, however, looked like it belonged to a giant bird of prey. The tip of its mouth ended in a hard beak and the muzzle was bald and reddish in color, like that of a vulture’s. Mottled gray and brown feathers covered its face and neck, and its front legs were yellow like an eagle’s.

The beast screamed once again, and Jahrra cowered as Phrym reared and kicked in fear.

Without thinking, she called out, “Peace!” in the common language and then, for some reason she couldn’t explain, repeated the word in Kruelt, “Traana!”

She held up her right hand, exposing her palm to her attacker. The creature stopped its intimidating stance, and slowly came down on all fours, leaving its wings fully spread.

The animal tilted its head slightly and looked at Jahrra with an intelligent, yellow eye. As Jahrra sat frozen in fear, she could see that Scede had stopped trying to drag his sister onto Aimhe. Gieaun had managed to stand up and was now hanging onto her horse with Scede standing right next to her. Both were looking over at Jahrra, panic scrawled all over their white faces.

Suddenly, the creature spoke, revealing two rows of small, pointed teeth and a forked tongue. It was a raspy, snake-like voice, but it was clear nonetheless: “Dodthe zellhe edth chormiehn epit edth Arksuhlen?”
You understand the language of the Ancients?

Jahrra, to her surprise, knew the Draggish words, and responded as best she could, despite her nerves, “Kei-Kei istaa durrst tellhenin. Yihroeh criteh edth krilei chormiehn?”
I-I’m still learning. Do you speak the common language?

“Yes, I do,” it, he, rasped, his rough voice formal and cool as he spoke the common tongue. “But it comforts me to know that the language of the Ancients has not died and is still being taught. Who are you, young creature, and what are you?”

“I’m a N-Nesnan girl. My name is Jahrra. And those are my friends, Gieaun and Scede. They are R-Resai,” Jahrra answered with a shaking voice, pointing over to Gieaun and Scede. She took a calming breath, extremely relieved that she could communicate with this animal.

“Why are you here?” asked the beast after looking over at Gieaun and Scede.

“I’ve come to collect something for a friend of mine,” Jahrra swallowed. “Archedenaeh, the Mystic.”

A spark crackled behind the creature’s eyes, but he continued his questioning undeterred, “What is it that you seek?”

“Apples. Apples from the tree at the end of this canyon.”

The creature furrowed what Jahrra could only assume was his brow.

“Most do not enter this canyon. Most fear what lies at the end,” he hissed quietly, sending goose bumps creeping up Jahrra’s arms. “People believe the legends of the horrible monster lurking here, and they come in droves to slay it. I usually kill those men. They pose a threat to me and all that is kept here, both living and not. I know Archedenaeh well. She was here not a week ago, if she wanted apples, she would have collected them then. Why send a child?”

The creature paused for a moment, and then continued on, “So I ask myself, what shall I do with you? You claim not to be hunters, but you wish to leave with a gift. Should I treat you as the others, or do you have a reason for me not to?”

Jahrra quavered at the creature’s suggestion, and Phrym shivered in response to her mood. The blood had drained from her face when the dragon-beast mentioned Denaeh’s recent visit.
Why did she lie to me?
Jahrra wondered, genuinely questioning the Mystic’s motives for the first time since she’d met her. She shook her head and looked over at her friends who were now both standing rigid with fright.

Finally, with as much bravado as she could muster, she answered the creature’s question, “Do what you will with me. It was my idea to come here, not theirs. They tried to talk me out of it, but I gave them no choice but to follow me. Let them go, please.”

Jahrra tried to straighten up in the saddle in a brave sort of fashion, but she felt as though her very bones were melting.

The dragon-beast smiled and then replied quite smoothly for a voice that sounded remarkably like grating sandpaper, “A very bold answer, and a very selfless offering.”

The monster fluffed his feathers in a rather self-satisfied way. “Do not worry young creature,” he continued nonchalantly. “I wish not to kill you or your companions. I watched you when that sehnna had you cornered. You refused to shoot, even after it attacked your friends and even when it was about to turn on you. You saw that it was starving and you felt that it too was only trying to survive. That is why you delayed your deadly shot. I only interrupted when I knew you could hold off no longer. This way, no one dies.”

Jahrra looked very relieved and allowed herself to exhale in what seemed like the first time in several minutes. She heard Gieaun and Scede let out their own sighs of relief, despite the distance between them.

“Come now, I shall lead you to your Apple Tree.”

The creature turned to let Jahrra return to her friends. The other two children silently climbed atop Bhun and Aimhe, allowing Jahrra to go first. They both shot her a nervous glance as she led Phrym past them, then took their place behind her as the dragon-beast led them further down the canyon.

For some reason, Jahrra didn’t feel frightened any longer. Instead she felt perplexed, and even a little angry. Denaeh had lied to her; she had talked her into coming to Ehnnit Canyon when she could have collected the apples herself. But why? Why would Denaeh put her in such danger? Jahrra wasn’t sure, but she had a feeling that perhaps the Mystic was trying to tell, or show, her something, something the woman couldn’t tell her herself. Jahrra put aside her thoughts for later (they only made her head ache) and focused on the great beast that led them down the canyon.

With his great membranous wings folded, the strange creature didn’t seem nearly as huge as he had first appeared, and although he walked rather awkwardly over the rock-littered canyon floor, he managed well enough.

A few minutes further up the canyon, it dawned upon Jahrra that their leader must have a name.

“I’m sorry,” she blurted, breaking the uneasy silence, “but what should we call you?”

“I am called Cahrume,” he answered, “and I am what the common folk call a draffyd.”

The draffyd continued his awkward gate, his head roving back and forth, scanning the landscape for more sehnnas. Jahrra relaxed a little and eased back in the saddle.
Cahrume the draffyd.
She vaguely remembered Hroombra teaching her about them once, years ago, and now that she scrutinized him in the golden afternoon light, she could see that he matched the old dragon’s description of the mythical animals. Jahrra smiled.
I can’t wait to see what we find next!

After awhile, she spoke up again, “Um, Cahrume? Where exactly is it that we are going?”

The party had been walking now for nearly fifteen minutes and Jahrra was beginning to wonder if this strange journey would never end. Cahrume seemed to know the trails that ran just above the canyon floor and had so far maneuvered them quite well, considering how narrow they were. The group had been forced into a single file line, Cahrume followed by Jahrra atop Phrym, Gieaun on Aimhe, and finally Scede riding Bhun, bringing up the rear.

The draffyd waited a long time before answering Jahrra’s question, and she feared that she had irritated him. When he finally did answer, he did so in a patient but gruff tone, “We are going to the very end of this canyon, where the Sacred Apple Tree grows.”

He stopped and looked around at Jahrra with his eagle eyes. “The tree from which you are to retrieve Denaeh’s apples.”

Then he revealed a very small smile. At least that is what Jahrra thought it looked like. She imagined such a creature either didn't, or couldn’t, smile that often.

“Do not fear, it is not very much farther,” he continued. “We will be there before dark, and then you can make your camp for the night.”

To avoid further interruptions, Cahrume added, “I am sure you all have many questions about what you have seen in this canyon today, from the bizarre stone entrance to the sehnna that surprised you. Have no fear; I’ll answer your questions later. Conversation is very sparse out here and it would be nice to hear news from the outside world as well.”

Jahrra smiled at Cahrume’s comment, for she did have many questions to ask; she just hoped they would reach their destination soon. She didn’t know how much longer they hiked, but eventually the sound of trickling water dominated the relative silence. The air surrounding them had slowly become cooler, and Jahrra shivered with delight. She knew that the temperature change had less to do with the setting sun and more to do with the sudden presence of water somewhere nearby. She leaned over the side of Phrym and looked down at the rocky channel only a few feet below the trail. A small trickle of a stream was flowing down the dry creek bed, leaving a dark trail of moisture in its wake.

Jahrra tried to look past Cahrume, but the canyon took another sharp turn to the north and she couldn’t see where the sudden tributary was coming from. Not until the group was around the next bend did Jahrra spot its source. Up ahead, the ravine widened dramatically and came to an abrupt end. A very tall but narrow waterfall cascaded like liquid silver down a vertical cliff that protruded away from the canyon wall. The cliff was about twenty to thirty feet high and was decorated with ferns and mosses clinging to the water-soaked rock, creating a green band that bordered the fall. Jahrra pulled Phrym to a stop and admired the beautiful waterfall, shuddering from a sudden chill. She looked around and saw that the sun was now only touching the very top sliver of the fall, leaving the canyon painted in a cool, blue shadow.

A few hundred feet ahead of the party there lay a bare patch of sand cutting well into both sides of the canyon floor. The waterfall splashed boldly onto the rocky bottom bellow, its water gathering into a large pool rimmed with small boulders. The precious liquid then slid past the rocks bedecking the creek bed and continued down the gully towards the Oorn Plain.

Cahrume stepped onto the soft, damp sand of the beach. His reptilian feet sunk a few inches into the soil as he turned to face the riders filing in behind him.

“This is Ttuhrmet Falls, and the end of Ehnnit Canyon. Or should I say, this is the beginning. You can camp here for the night. It is quite safe, as long as you keep a fire burning. I will be perched above you.” He nodded his harpy-like head toward the top of the canyon where a great throng of trees stood, flaring green-gold in the late afternoon light. “I will warn you if I sense any danger. But for now, we can enjoy the rest of the day in peace.”

Cahrume whipped his great tail around and settled upon the soft sand like a great, lean lion and watched alertly as the three children began to make camp. Scede glanced at Jahrra with veiled eyes, conveying to her that he wasn’t all that happy with their current situation. Gieaun merely went about the business of unpacking Aimhe, moving mechanically as if in a trance. Neither of her friends had spoken since they’d encountered the draffyd. Jahrra hoped this was because they were too frightened they might annoy the great creature and not because they were angry with her again.
They’ll have to say something eventually
, she thought, both wishing for that moment and dreading it. She took a deep breath and searched for a way to break the uncomfortable silence.