The Beginning (37 page)

“Now, wait just a minute Jahrra. You’ve forgotten this,” Jaax said.

The Tanaan dragon had been relatively quiet the whole evening, so the sudden sound of his voice made her jump. She turned to see what he was talking about and was surprised to find him nudging a tiny silver box towards her. She set down her bundle and took the box carefully into her hands, opening it with a creak and a snap. Inside was a silver chain with what looked like a glittering stone pendant strung upon it. When Jahrra pulled it out and looked at it in the flickering firelight, she realized that the multicolored stone was actually a dragon scale. She gasped as she realized what it was.

“Is this . . .” she began quietly, her mouth suddenly going dry.

“So you do remember,” Jaax intoned slyly. “I had some acquaintances of mine in the north make it into a pendant for you.”

Jahrra couldn’t believe it. As much as she thought she disliked this awful dragon, she couldn’t help but be touched by the gift. The gold and green flecks in the scale glittered, and when she turned it in her hand, the fire in the hearth caused the many hues of blue and copper to spark across its surface. She smiled faintly as she remembered the day she had knocked this very scale off the dragon’s toe. It had seemed like a lifetime ago.

“Th-thank you,” she stammered, not knowing how to react, feeling a little guilty because she had no gift for him.

“Now you have proof that you defeated a dragon once. Dragon scales are not collected very easily,” was his simple reply.

Jahrra quickly looked up at him, only to find that same demeaning and obstinate smile. Yet there was something different about it this time; a look so unfamiliar to her that she had no idea how to translate it. Jahrra didn’t know what to say. That was the closest thing to a compliment she had ever received from the dragon. She held the cool scale and chain carefully in her hand, treasuring it above all her other gifts. She smiled wickedly as she looked at it one more time.
My very own evidence that I beat Jaax once
, she reminded herself. This thought cheered her, allowing her to enjoy the remainder of her Solstice break.

Late winter brought with it the first week of school, and Jahrra braced herself for her final months of learning among the Resai. She looked forward to the coming spring, but having Jaax around made the time pass more slowly. Jahrra had done her best to be patient with the Tanaan dragon, especially since he’d been so generous with his Solsticetide gift, but his continued rude remarks and cold demeanor only rubbed Jahrra’s nerves raw. She kept telling herself he would only be in Oescienne for a little bit longer, but she never really knew exactly
how
long that would be.

I’ll just have to be patient
, she told herself.
I just hope there aren’t any more surprises between now and the time Jaax leaves.
Jahrra smiled dryly. She couldn’t imagine anything else happening that had thrilled her like the race, shocked her the way seeing Jaax standing on the beach had, or baffled her like hearing the voice of a strange dragon on the edge of the Wreing Florenn. But the future was yet to happen, and as everyone knows, it is impossible, sometimes, to prepare for its many surprises.

***

Barely two weeks into the second half of the school year and life was already proving to be most unpleasant for Jahrra. Gieaun and Scede were stuck at home with a fever, so she was forced to attend school by herself. She left the schoolhouse at the end of that gruesome week, grateful another day was over, and walked over to the stables to gather Phrym. She’d been so busy lost in her own thoughts and daydreams that she hadn’t noticed Eydeth standing next to Phrym’s stall.
Great!
she thought in anger once she spotted him.
This is all I need right now, a personal harassment session with Eydeth.

As she approached, the boy stayed where he was, not saying a word.

Jahrra, wanting to get this over with, said, “What could you possibly want now?” she stopped short and crossed her arms. “Still crying over the fact that I beat you in the race?”

Eydeth just sneered and then smiled sweetly. “I just thought you’d like to know that father purchased the land rights to your mucky lake this morning, and next week he is going to have it cleansed of the parasitic Nesnans that live there.”

Jahrra could feel her ears turning crimson, and instead of ignoring him like she ought to, she let him have it.

“Your father can’t do that! If he drives those families out, their children will go hungry!”

“So?” Eydeth sniffed, pretending to brush some imaginary dirt off his arm. “They’re just a bunch of Nesnans. They can find some other wasteland to infest.”

Jahrra was beyond upset. She thought that winning the race would make this less painful, that is, if Eydeth had ever really followed through with his threat. Now it appeared that he
had
followed through, and if anything, it made everything worse. This wasn’t just about losing her place of retreat any longer; it was about all those people who would be forced out of their homes. As simple and poor as they might be, the Nesnan men, women and children were still people, and the thought that Eydeth had pressured his father into doing this, all to get back at her, made her skin crawl and her stomach turn.

Jahrra had worked so hard and given everything to beat Eydeth, and now he stood there right in front of her, basking in her defeat once again, telling her that all her efforts were wasted. She tried to tell herself that he was lying; that he was just trying to get a rise out of her. But if he’d wanted to lie about it, he would have done so long ago. Jahrra tried to take a deep breath, silently working against all of her instincts to keep herself from attacking him or from breaking down on the spot.

“That’s fine. I’ll just go to another lake, and the fishermen who frequented Lake Ossar never caught much anyways. Perhaps they’ll have better luck at Nuun Dein or Lake Aldalis.”

Jahrra’s anger rang through in her voice, and Eydeth smiled even more broadly.

“Actually,” he said smoothly, “my father is in the process of purchasing
all
of the lakes, so if I were you, I would stay away from all of them.”

Jahrra, blinded by rage, shouted, “Tell your father to go on ahead, and furthermore, not to waste his time hunting lake monsters, because they don’t exist!”

Eydeth laughed. “Yes they do, I faced it once, remember? I even brought one of its horns back.”

For the first time in this conversation, Jahrra felt less angry and more amused.

“That was no horn!” she laughed. “At least, it wasn’t a monster’s horn. We got it from a pair of antlers, just the same way we got its hair from Gieaun’s and Scede’s horses, and its skeleton from driftwood. We created that lake monster to keep you and your goat of a sister away from the lake!”

Suddenly, Eydeth didn’t look so smug and self-assured anymore. His smile was gone, and his cheeks were beginning to turn pink.

“You didn’t invent any lake monster!” he tried to say, but Jahrra just laughed.

“Ha! And you didn’t scream like a little ninny when the whole thing knocked your canoe over and you had to swim for dear life back to shore!”

This time Jahrra hit a nerve, and she could see the damage on Eydeth’s face. “You had better watch what you say Nesnan! All you have to do is slip up once and I’ll tell my father you attacked me, and then we’ll see what happens!”

Jahrra fired right back, not giving Eydeth an inch. “Oh, will you pull me off a cliff side to let me fall to my death again? Or will you chase me into a dark wood in the middle of the night to have some assassin do me in? Or will you think up something even more devious? Kill me and claim that my ‘pet dragon’ did it? You don’t frighten me you spineless little coward!”

Jahrra was almost screaming by now, but what she hadn’t noticed was that after her mention of the assassin in the woods, Eydeth’s flushed face had drained to a stark white. When Jahrra finally stopped her tirade, she could clearly see that the Resai boy now stood as if frozen with fear. It didn’t take her long to remember how Eydeth had acted after that fateful Sobledthe festival a year ago. She had always wanted to find out who her attacker had been, and now was the opportune time to get it out of this frightened little weasel.

“Oh, wait a minute,” she said, taking advantage of the moment Eydeth’s frozen silence had created, “that stranger in Lensterans couldn’t have been your idea, you were scared out of your wits if I remember correctly. If you had put him up to it, you would’ve been smiling, not running in fear. But you must have known who he was. So, who was he Eydeth? A civil rights activist for the local Nesnan tribes?”

“You wouldn’t be able to handle the answer,” was all Eydeth could muster in a gruff, quiet voice.

“Try me,” Jahrra said seriously.

“No, I don’t think I will. You can just wait until he returns to kill you.”

Jahrra started at the chilling tone of Eydeth’s voice, but she refused to let her mind register what this could mean. Instead, she quickly turned on the attack once again.

“You’re too frightened to tell me, aren’t you? I knew it!” she laughed. “You let a silly fake lake monster scare you away from Lake Ossar, and you allowed me to defeat you in your precious race. You couldn’t handle telling me who that man was; it scares you too much.”

Eydeth had turned to receive his own semequin, but as soon as Jahrra had finished talking he whipped around to face her, almost knocking her down.

“You’re going to be so sorry I told you this Nesnan, but you deserve all the bad luck you can get! Do you really want to know who that man was?” he spat, panic flashing behind his brown eyes. “I’ll tell you. He was a mercenary for the Crimson King. When the moonlight hit his face, I could see the blood rose symbol, the mark of the Tyrant, branded on his cheek. I don’t know what the Crimson King could possibly want with a worthless Nesnan such as yourself, but he won’t stop sending his henchmen until he gets you, so you had better watch your back!”

Eydeth turned and walked aggressively towards the stable where his semequin stood munching oats. Jahrra stood where she was, mute with shock. She knew that this time Eydeth had spoken the truth; she could see it as plainly as she could see the terror distorting his face. The Crimson King? After her? Why? Eydeth was right, she was a worthless Nesnan, what could the Tyrant King possibly need or want her for?

“Maybe,” Jahrra swallowed, her voice almost a whisper as she answered, “maybe he made a mistake.”

Eydeth pulled himself into the saddle of his white stallion and turned to face her, his expression looking grim.

“The Crimson King doesn’t make mistakes. Father has told me enough tales to give you nightmares, Nesnan. If I were you, I’d jump into that precious pond of yours and end it now.”

Eydeth dug his heals into his semequin and took off, galloping to the north.

Jahrra shivered as a cold breeze drifted by. The schoolyard was empty and the sun was dipping lower into the sky. She wondered if anyone had witnessed her encounter with Eydeth, but she guessed everyone had cleared out long ago. She quickly saddled Phrym, threw on her jacket and headed home. As Phrym galloped across the chilled countryside, Jahrra tried furiously to make sense of what Eydeth had just said. She wondered if she should finally tell Hroombra about what had happened that night in Lensterans, but that would mean telling Jaax, too.

She slowed Phrym to an easy walk and pulled her jacket more tightly around herself as they moved past the outskirts of Aldehren.
Even if Eydeth was telling the truth, which I’m sure he isn’t, that mercenary couldn’t possibly be after me. He made a mistake and is most likely somewhere far away searching for someone else. Eydeth is only trying to scare me, as usual. Well, I won’t let him
. Jahrra reluctantly took her own advice and put the thought as far from her mind as she could.
I don’t need to tell anyone. Nothing bad happened, and nothing bad will happen.

Phrym rounded the last bend of the road leading up the Sloping Hill just as the sun touched the horizon. Once they reached the stable, Jahrra hurriedly got her semequin ready for the night, covering him with a blanket and giving him extra oats before walking back to the Castle Guard Ruin in the early twilight. She clasped her arms around herself, trying to keep the cold at bay, glad that tomorrow was the weekend and hoping that it would be a better day.

Jahrra stepped through the doorway of her home only to find Hroombra at his massive desk looking through a mountain of maps. She smiled and wondered if she would ever find him anywhere else when she got home. She walked past him and took her coat off to hang it by the fireplace on the opposite end of the room, stopping in midstride before she got there. Jaax was lying ever so proudly in front of a blazing fire reading an ancient, disintegrated tome. Jahrra didn’t recognize it, but then again, she had never looked too closely at any of Hroombra’s private books without permission. She let out a short, aggravated snort. All she wanted to do was get to her room so she could rest in peace, but there was no way she would be able to sneak past Jaax without his noticing her.

“Well,” he said, looking Jahrra over with his calculating eyes, “where have you been? You should’ve been home at least two hours ago.”

“Uh,” Jahrra found it very hard to lie to this dragon. She had a distinct feeling that he could read her mind just as Denaeh could, but he was more brutal about it. She did her best, however. “I got caught up after classes. Kihna and her sisters wanted to talk about getting a study group together for final exams before graduation.”