The Beginning (18 page)

“Once a free and peaceful tribe in the east, the Tanaan now found their safe world torn apart by greed, hatred and terror, and their only choice was to move far away into the west. A few hundred years before the Tanaan race became the Tanaan dragons, a large group braved the mountains and entered Oescienne. Only half of them made it to this paradise alive, and it is said that the few that did make it here came down this very canyon, when it was still flowing with water.”

Cahrume paused and took a deep breath, the whispering fire, the play of water against stone, and the faint click-clicking of bats flying overhead the only sounds to disturb him and his small audience.

After a few moments, he continued, “You see, Ethoes herself led them here, or so they believed. As they crossed the mountains in the late summer months, they had little food and no water. But Ethoes pointed them in the direction of this canyon, and in the direction of her precious apple tree, heavy with fruit. Normally, apple trees do not show their fruit until the autumn, but the people believed that Ethoes asked the tree to bear fruit earlier for the sake of her people. Ever since, the tree’s fruit has ripened this time of year.

“Thus, the Tanaan people were saved by the early and abundant fruit and flowing water. They named this canyon after their sovereign, King Ehnnit, and they gave thanks to Ethoes and the gods and goddesses of the earth and sky. They found the entrance very much like it is today, later carving the tunnel and an archway to mark it as a sacred place. They etched their story into the walls of the tunnel, adding more as the years went by.

“The story of the return of Ciarrohn and the rise of the Crimson King is written there as well, along with the account of the Great Tanaan king and the creation of the Tanaan Kruel of dragons. It is written in the original language of the Tanaan, before they were taught Kruelt, and it is said that no one alive knows the language any longer except for the last Tanaan prince, if he truly still lives in his dragon form. It is rumored that he returned to this very canyon after escaping the Crimson King to record his own tragic story, signing it with his true name. But, of course, it is only a rumor, one that has been passed down through time. That is all I can tell you from my own knowledge. I wish I knew more, but unfortunately, the language in the tunnel is a dead one. No one can translate it now, not even I.”

Cahrume gazed at the three sitting across from him on the other side of the fire, a look of stoic satisfaction written on his sharp-featured face.

Jahrra remained quiet, her mind working furiously despite her own stony composure.
If only the words in the tunnel were Krueltish! At least I could write them down and translate them later. How I would like to know the name of the last Tanaan prince!

While Jahrra tried to think of a way to sneak back to the canyon entrance without her friends finding out, she heard Gieaun pressing Cahrume about small details of the story that he couldn’t possibly answer, such as: “What did humans look like? Did they look a lot like elves?” and, “Were you with the Tanaan race when they arrived here?” and “How exactly was Ciarrohn defeated the first time?” Cahrume patiently answered all of her questions until it was time for them to eat.

The excitement gradually died down, but only after everyone was fed and lazing in the soft firelight. A chorus of crickets boldly began their evening song and the cry of a coyote sent shivers down Jahrra’s spine. Despite the morose sound, Jahrra leaned back with ease and looked up at the stars. Before she could get too comfortable however, she suddenly remembered a question she’d meant to ask Cahrume. She quickly sat up, causing the crickets to stop dead in their melody.

“Cahrume, the blue-green rock found throughout the canyon, what’s it called?”

Cahrume lifted his head from his meal and looked at the girl in puzzlement. After a few moments, he answered, “It is called saerpint, and it is found only in this place. Beautiful, is it not? You may take some with you if you wish. You and your friends have proved to be true of heart, and you deserve something to remember your trip by.”

Cahrume curled his mouth, pleased to have peaceful visitors for once. Jahrra grinned and settled back down, feeling slightly bashful for already possessing a piece of the extraordinary stone.

The low flames of the fire shrank down into brilliant coals and Jahrra, Gieaun and Scede got ready for bed. Once they were all tucked under their blankets, Cahrume stood up and stretched his great wings.

“I will sleep above the falls at the foot of the Great Apple Tree where I always perch. If anything dangerous should approach, I will let you know. In the morning we will pay homage to the Great Tree and to Ethoes, and then I will show you to the road that only the wild beasts of the wilderness know. It will take you home around the Southern Cohn Forest and through the Easterly Longuinn Hills. It should be a much safer route then the one through the canyon, for the sehnnas do not wander past Ttuhrmet Falls.”

The draffyd took a deep breath and continued, “Good night young ones, I shall see you in the morning.”

With a great beat of his wings, the dragon-beast lifted above the campsite, causing the tired coals to glow angrily one last time. Jahrra and her friends quietly watched his dark shadow, barely distinguishable against the night sky, blend in with the black arms of the apple tree.

“I would say this day turned out quite well, considering how it started,” Jahrra said light-heartedly.

Both of her friends were silent long enough to allow the crickets another chance to begin their chorus once again.

“Don’t push your luck, Jahrra,” Scede added cautiously after several moments. “We still have to survive the night.”

Jahrra knew that her friend was only being half serious.
He’s still a little upset about everything that happened today, and I don’t blame him
, Jahrra told herself, beginning to feel guilty once again. She took one more deep breath, whispered, “Well, good night,” and turned over to fall fast asleep.

-
Chapter Eight
-

The Apple Tree

The twitter of a small bird woke Jahrra the next morning, but she continued to lie still, forgetting everything that had happened the day before. She imagined herself lying in her own bed back at the Castle Guard Ruin, listening to the happy rustlings of the animals feeding on the seeds of her garden. She smiled to herself, eyes still shut, as she let the pleasant sound fill her groggy head.

As more movement and birdsong filled the air, Jahrra continued to doze with absolutely no intention of getting up anytime soon. But the bright morning light filtering past her eyelids unexpectedly turned black, and something soft and warm touched her cheek. Jahrra jumped awake, immediately realizing where she was now that her eyes were open. Phrym, who had worked his way loose from the branch he’d been tethered to, faltered backwards in alarm.

“I’m sorry Phrym!” The semequin looked very perturbed at his young master’s rejection, and Jahrra bashfully held out a hand to greet him. “I forgot where we were.”

Scede and Gieaun slowly sat up, their eyes searching credulously for what had caused the commotion.

“What’s going on?” Gieaun yawned.

“I just forgot we weren’t at home and I startled Phrym. Nothing to worry about,” Jahrra answered, drawing Phrym’s head to her and patting his cheek.

“How could you forget where we were?” Scede asked, looking slightly dazed and bewildered as he removed grit from his eye with the heel of his hand.

Before Jahrra could answer her friend’s question, the morning air was churned by a pair of great wings. Cahrume came to a shaky rest on the other side of the creek bed and shook himself like a wet dog.

“I hope you have not forgotten me, young Nesnan,” he rasped cheerfully.

“I very well remember everything now!” Jahrra retorted. “I only forgot for a moment, until I woke up!”

She crossed her arms while she sat tangled in her bedroll and blanket, her hair looking like a perturbed tumbleweed.

Cahrume smiled even more broadly, and this time it actually looked like a true grin. “Come now, you must eat and see the Apple Tree, and then you must be on your way. The longer you stay here the more dangerous it will be for you to get out safely.”

Jahrra, Gieaun and Scede ate some of their bread and cheese as quickly as possible, then hurriedly dressed and packed up their belongings. By the time the sun was just beginning to touch the very top of the canyon wall, Cahrume was leading them up a narrow and steep trail that climbed the north end of the gully. The trail looked like it was frequented by wild game, and as they climbed, the riders and their horses were scraped and smacked by the thick brush growing on both sides. Luckily, it was a short trail and ten minutes later they were all at the top of the canyon looking down.

Jahrra quietly admired the wide ravine. In her opinion, it resembled a terra-cotta gash in the dry earth with hints of aqua blue spread throughout. The beauty of the canyon couldn’t compare, however, to what Jahrra saw when she turned around. There, where the small creek poured over the cliff’s side, stood a massive tree full of huge, ripe apples. The bewildered girl slowly climbed down from Phrym and walked up to Cahrume, who was presently gazing dreamily up into the tree’s great branches. He turned and looked down at Jahrra, and in his shining eyes she could see the respect and love he held for this tree. Cahrume nodded, encouraging her to move closer. Jahrra took a deep breath and cautiously approached the sacred Apple Tree of Ethoes, fearing that by just touching it she might bring down some horrible disease upon it.

The Apple’s gnarled roots coiled and tumbled and bore into the earth, as if they were clinging to the ground for dear life. Its branches did the same, stretching their many twisted arms and fingers into the sky. The bark was smooth and dark, and much of the roots and lower trunk was carpeted in a beautiful green moss covered in tiny lavender flowers shaped like stars. The air was cool and silent, and all of the other trees and ferns surrounding the Apple seemed to be standing back in admiration and humility.

Jahrra wrinkled her nose at the lovely, tangy-sweet smell of ripe apples and cool freshness that hung all around her. She tilted her head up toward the fruit-laden branches and breathed in the fragrant air. The fruit itself was enormous, three times larger than any normal apple she had ever seen, and even more beautiful. The apples were glossy green mottled with red and pink, and the leaves of the tree were a crisp green and gold. Jahrra stared wide-eyed at Ethoes’ magnificent creation, following it from root to canopy, realizing that it was easily the largest tree she had ever seen.

“Is-is it alright for me to take the fruit?” Jahrra whispered to Cahrume.

“Only if you are pure of spirit and a true child of Ethoes,” Cahrume answered gently.

Jahrra approached the tree cautiously. She wasn’t sure if she was truly pure of spirit or a true child of Ethoes, but she figured Cahrume would tell her if she wasn’t. As Jahrra inched closer to the tree, she stretched out her arm and gently put her hand upon a root that was not covered in moss. Instantly, she felt the passage of time, the coolness of rain, the warmth of the sun, and the love of many lives running through her body and coursing through her blood. Her fingers seemed to fuse with the tree’s bark and a flashing heat, severe but not unpleasant, surged from her fingertips to the very marrow of her bones. A roaring, suffocating sound similar to that of the roiling ocean clogged her ears. Jahrra gasped, but her gasp was choked away as her eyes no longer saw the green, filtered light from above, but people, hundreds of people trudging through a snow-laden mountain pass.

Jahrra fell to her knees, at least it felt that way to her, but her palm remained attached to the tree, the strange burning sensation strongest now on one tiny spot on her wrist. She took a deep breath, but instead of inhaling apple scent she inhaled the lung-freezing bitterness of winter. The people continued on, and the scene shifted. They came through the mountains and found themselves looking down on a beautiful land, a land full of rolling hills and green meadows, forests and rivers. They found a small canyon, heavy with the waters of snow melt and vibrant with life. She could see an apple tree, full of fruit, and a celebration that felt more triumphant and joyful than anything she had ever felt in her life.

A shiver ran through Jahrra and the scene changed again. This time she was standing at the base of Ehnnit Canyon, looking up, looking at the entry way, but something was different, something felt out of place. She could see figures working at something in the archway, and a dragon, no, the shadow of a dragon, a shadow that
looked
like a dragon? It was so hard to tell, the scene was fading, like a reflection in a pool erased by a single pebble, the ripples washing everything away.

The light was returning to normal, the rushing in her ears fading away. A wash of happiness flashed through her senses and her palm came loose from the tree, tingling and feeling icy and hot at the same time. Jahrra took a breath, inhaling the clean air as if she’d been underwater for the past several minutes. She crumpled to the ground and felt the cool, damp moss press against her flushed face.

“Jahrra!” called a familiar voice.

“Jahrra?!” that one was Scede.

Jahrra blinked away the strange residue of the visions she’d seen and lifted her head carefully. Funny, she was sure she’d have a headache after all that. She pushed up her weight with one arm and leaned woozily against a thick tree root. Although she seemed to have returned to her senses, some of the strange sensation lingered up her left arm. Jahrra reluctantly lifted her hand, only guessing at what she might find there. One bead in her tree charm bracelet felt warm, its odd rune glowing red, as if there were a tiny light shining through the marks from the heart of the wood.
So you must be the wood taken from the Sacred Apple
, she decided with wonder. The glow faded and then disappeared, but Jahrra could still feel a small trace of something, magic most likely, lingering in the tiny piece of wood.

She turned and looked at Cahrume, confusion and fear surfacing on her face.
What was that?
But what she saw in the draffyd’s eyes didn’t comfort her; it frightened her even more. There was a revelation there, but it was so clouded with emotion that there was no way for her to interpret it.

“You can speak with the Trees,” the draffyd hissed harshly, almost fearfully.

Jahrra sat stark still, not knowing what to do or say. She looked past Cahrume, hoping to get some reassurance from Gieaun and Scede, but they had the same look of bewilderment written across their own faces.

“What do you mean?” Jahrra asked anxiously. “How do you know I can speak with trees?”

“It means,” Cahrume began, “that you have a gift that is granted to only a very few. It is a true sign of one loyal to Ethoes who can speak with the Trees. Many have claimed they can, few have proven so. You see, the Sacred Trees of Ethoes hold deep, ancient secrets, secrets that contain power that could change the world.” he paused dramatically, took a settling breath and then said, “The Goddess has blessed you. How long have you had this gift?”

Jahrra didn’t know what to say. She had always known she had a way with plants, and even Yaraa and Viornen had told her she was a child of nature, but she had no idea that she could actually
communicate
with them. Maybe they knew all along; maybe that is why they decided to give her the armlet.

“I have a garden at home, and it always seems to do well,” she offered weakly after the momentary quiet. “And when I’m among the trees, I often feel different, at ease and at peace.”

Jahrra dropped her eyes to the ground, the same way she had done when she’d first met Yaraa and Viornen. Her elvin trainers were magical, and she knew that some way, somehow, Cahrume was magical too.

“I should think, then,” Cahrume spoke softly, breaking the uncomfortable silence, “that you should have no problem taking fruit from these branches. This hallowed Tree is gladdened by your presence.”

He smiled and Jahrra looked back at the Apple Tree. It truly was a majestic being. A being? The sudden thought and realization caught her off guard. Jahrra suddenly felt like the trees were no longer just giant plants, but individuals with an essence equal to her own. She felt that this tree had a coursing soul and spirit and a life force just as significant as any other creature’s.

It now made sense to her, the sacredness of trees. This is why Hroombra and her father had insisted she treat them with respect. Their lives spanned centuries, experiencing the changing of seasons and the erosion of time. They gave so much to the world around them and they asked for nothing in return. Jahrra smiled softly and sighed, wondering why she hadn’t realized all of this before.

For the next hour or so, Gieaun, Scede and Jahrra climbed into the heavy arms of the great Apple Tree and collected as many apples as they could fit into their saddlebags. They even paused for an hour to enjoy some of the fruit high atop the interlacing boughs that seemed to stretch on forever. They sprawled themselves out on thick limbs, as big around as a sea serpent and covered in the same soft, thick moss that covered the roots below. While Jahrra munched on the sweet, tangy apples, she couldn’t help but sense the tree’s contentment tingling over her skin, especially her hand. It warmed her heart thinking that this ancient being of the earth was happy to receive her company, even if all this talk about speaking with trees turned out to be a sham in the end.

Jahrra took another crisp bite of the apple she was eating. She was surprised at their flavor; they were unlike any fruit she had ever tasted, even the rare apples her parents once grew. From the first bite to the last, Jahrra could have sworn her mind felt sharper, clearer; that all of her life’s questions and uncertainties were finally making sense.
I can do anything, understand anything!
she thought with delight. She wondered if Gieaun and Scede felt the same way, but didn’t bother to ask. She had too many important things to think about. After some time, the fruits’ affects wore off and the three friends climbed back down from the tree, their arms laden with apples for Denaeh.

While they got ready to leave for home, Jahrra found that she was reluctant to part with the great tree. It felt like she was about to say goodbye to a dear friend she wouldn’t be seeing again for a very long time. Cahrume reassured Jahrra that she needn’t worry.

“Nothing shall harm this sacred one, I promise you that,” the draffyd avowed with a wry grin.

Jahrra walked away halfheartedly, the colors of her surroundings once again fading away as she pulled her fingers from the smooth, cool bark. The Apple Tree’s sadness stung like an insect bite the moment Jahrra parted with it. She stood in the shade of the great canopy for a few moments longer, soaking in the Tree’s unique magic before collecting Phrym and joining her friends who were already mounted. She fed him one of the apples before climbing into the saddle and then turned him toward the game trail that headed northeast just behind Bhun and Aimhe.

“This trail continues north until it cuts through those two hills,” Cahrume instructed, jerking his head towards the two small peaks in the distance. “Travel for about one mile down the narrow gulch ahead until the trail meets up with an old road known only to the folk and beasts of the wilds. Take that road for about three or four miles, always heading west and always staying between the Cohn Forest and the hills. You will then come to a crossroads that lies just to the east of a small lake. Follow the eastern edge of the lake, and continue to stay on the edge of the forest,
always
stay on the edge of the forest.” Cahrume stressed this last statement and the three children nodded somberly.