The Beginning (45 page)

“Master, go now to the stars. Go and join Traagien in that honorable place where you belong,” Jaax whispered deeply as the flames licked up at the blackening sky.

Jahrra stood silently beside him, eyes shining from the light of the dancing fire. Jaax looked down at her and let out a small, scorching breath through his nostrils. As the flames grew higher, he watched the young woman before him struggling against her emotions as he told Hroombra’s departing spirit,
I will take care of her, I promise you that.

They stood silent watch over the funeral pyre well into the night, and when the coals were nothing more than glowing embers on the bare earth, they both retired inside the Castle Guard Ruin to prepare for the long evening.

Jahrra gasped in surprise once she’d lit a few candles. She hadn’t been inside since that morning, since before the tragic events of the day, so she hadn’t seen the damage done by the Tyrant’s men. The main room where Hroombra had looked over his manuscripts for so many years had been ransacked and destroyed. The men had somehow overturned his massive desk and many of his papers and maps were missing or ruined. Jahrra released a fresh supply of tears as her eyes swept the study, and then she turned and quickly ran to her own room. Remarkably, the Tyrant’s thugs hadn’t touched anything in there.

She came back out into the main room to find that Jaax had started a fire in the great hearth.

“Sit down, Jahrra,” he said wearily, “there is more you need to know.”

Jahrra feared what Jaax would say. Learning that the entire fate of Ethoes depended on her was terrifying enough.

“As you well know, the plan was for you to go on to school in Lidien. Obviously, those plans have changed.”

Jahrra hung her head. She had been so angry when the two dragons had told her this earlier, now she was ashamed at how she had reacted.

Jaax took a deep breath and got right to the point, “We must flee Oescienne. Tomorrow. Before sunrise.”

Jahrra shot her head up in surprise. She opened her mouth to protest, but Jaax cut her off.

“Jahrra, I’m asking you to make a decision, a very hard decision, I know. You can either stay here and await your doom, or you can run with me and escape the clutches of the Tyrant until you are ready to face him.”

Jahrra didn’t speak. She simply stared into the fire that flickered up the carved hearthstone, hoping its dancing flames would give her some sign of encouragement.

“Jahrra,” Jaax murmured, “I’m asking you to trust me, and I’m putting my trust in you as well. You must make the right decision for yourself. You are old enough now,” Jaax paused to see if Jahrra was listening, “to make the right decision. If you remain here, you will be found. Those that search for you now are a real enemy, not simple school children who humiliate you out of sheer boredom. Outside of Oescienne you face real dangers as well, but at least you’ll have a chance. I can’t guarantee that we will evade those who seek us, but I promise that I’ll protect you to the best of my abilities.”

Jaax stopped speaking and looked into the flames with Jahrra. He knew that this had to be incredibly hard for her, so he squeezed his eyes shut and continued on very carefully, “I know you don’t consider me a friend, and I do admit that I’ve been hard on you, but right now we need to have faith in one another in order to survive. So, do you accept my challenge to face your fate, or do you wish to decline and take your chances here?”

Jahrra swallowed back her pain and forced herself to truly consider what Jaax had just said.
Leave Oescienne? Tomorrow morning?
she thought. That’s what Jaax had wanted all along, for her to leave and go to school, but now everything had changed. Hroombra was dead and she wasn’t a common Nesnan after all. Her life had completely flipped upside down in the course of a single day. She was a human being, the only one of her kind.

Jahrra took a few deep breaths, trying hard to think clearly. She had to admit that Jaax was right; as much as she wished to defy him even now, it was no longer safe to stay in Oescienne if what she had learned today was true. Without Hroombra, she had no idea how to fight off the Crimson King. As much as Jahrra hated pleasing Jaax, and as much as she hated the thought of leaving the only home she’d ever known, she also wished to live, and the only way to do that was to leave. Jahrra closed her eyes and breathed deeply through her nose, a trick Yaraa had taught her. She repeated calming words, over and over again in her head, and after several minutes she had finally cleared her mind enough to allow rational thought.

Jaax watched her intently, practicing his patience as he waited for her answer. His nerves were on edge, and he hoped beyond all hope that this method of the Mystic’s, this idea of offering a choice and not forcing her, would work. After several silent minutes, Jahrra opened her eyes slowly, and Jaax’s heart leapt as she gazed solemnly up at him.

“Very well,” she said in a whisper. “I’ll go with you.”

***

The night was dark, even darker than usual. There was no moon or stars to lend any light, and Jaax was glad for it. The new storm was finally upon them, not a very strong one, but hopefully the intense dark and the wet land shivering with rain would discourage the Tyrant’s men from returning tonight. There was work to be done, and it had to be done before the mercenaries returned. There were some critical items that Jaax had to destroy, move or secure. That is, if these items hadn’t already been taken.

As Jahrra slept, the young dragon began looking for any of Hroombra’s old documents that might not have been destroyed. She had fallen asleep on her old bed very quickly, and Jaax was grateful for it.
Jahrra must sleep
, he thought wearily.
She has been through agony today, and the long journey north will be a harrowing one.
A light rain began tapping on the roof, steadily growing stronger. Jaax headed towards the northern end of the building and squeezed into the small storage room where Hroombra had kept all of his most important documents.

As the dragon searched the supply of maps and books that still remained, Jahrra slumbered in her own bed for the last time. The rain made a rhythmic sound that kept the strange noises of the outside world at bay, but after some time, Jahrra awoke with a start. She sat up in bed for awhile and tried to remember why she felt so bad. She choked back a fresh wave of tears as she recalled the earlier events of the day. “Oh Master Hroombra!” she cried silently.

Suddenly, Jahrra was overcome with a chilling sensation of dread. Whether it was caused by a sound, or a movement or a slight breeze just outside her window, she wasn’t sure. All she knew was that something was wrong, something was coming. She shot up out of bed and headed to her window. She couldn’t see anything moving outside, but she could hear Phrym’s low, uneasy nickering above the light din of the rain from his stable. Jahrra darted her eyes around the dark room and wondered, with a rush of fear, if Jaax had been awakened too.

A sloshing splash and a curse in some unrecognizable language cut through the still night.
The pond!
Jahrra thought, her heart in her throat. Someone or something had just tripped into the small pool in her garden. At least now she knew where this person was: on the western side of the building. Without thinking, Jahrra grabbed up her long coat (secretly thanking Ethoes it was dark blue) and darted into the main room. The great fire Jaax had built up was now only a pile of glowing embers, but the dragon was nowhere to be seen.

Jahrra cursed and tried not to panic. How many people were outside? Did they have the building surrounded? Were they in Hroombra’s study, looking for more documents? She knew she had a decent chance of making it to Phrym in his stable; it just depended on how much noise she would make dashing out of the front of the building. For a split second Jahrra thought of calling out for Jaax, but she knew that that would be unwise. The dragon could be anywhere, and if there was a chance the enemy hadn’t heard her, she would certainly draw their attention by calling out.
No
, Jahrra thought,
I must get to Phrym before they find me.

The soft rain cooled her skin and dampened her hair as she bounded across the uneven field. Although the drizzle and darkness hindered her sight, she was able to run the expanse of the field with relative ease. She had gone this way a hundred times and didn’t need any light to see exactly where she was going.

Somewhere in the distance, Jahrra could hear a few shouts over the pounding of her heart; someone had discovered that she wasn’t inside the Ruin. She began running faster, her cloak becoming heavier with the precipitation and water coating the grass. Her thick boots and pants were becoming sodden and she could feel the dampness reaching to her toes. She frantically brushed the dripping hair out of her eyes that had become plastered across her face.

Finally, after what seemed like hours, Jahrra was within yards of the stable, Phrym’s anxious cries urging her on. She knew she would make it, she had to. Jahrra smiled in spite of herself, but the moment she thought she’d escaped, she heard the strange voices only a few yards behind her. Her smile faded immediately and she broke into a full sprint.

Just as the stable came into view through the thick darkness, Jahrra’s foot suddenly and violently broke through a gopher tunnel, wrenching her to the ground. The fall was fast, and as she crashed to the ground her knee bashed hard against a stone set deep in the soil. The pain was unbearable, and as the shock of the fall left her, Jahrra realized that she was lying helpless in the path of her enemies. She breathed in and out sharply, trying, with eyes stinging, not to cry out or groan. The wind had been knocked out of her and from the waves of agony rushing up her leg she knew that she had severely sprained or even broken her ankle. She bit down hard on her lip and dragged herself with her arms out of the path she had made in the grass. She hoped dearly that the men pursuing her couldn’t see well in the dark.

Jahrra crawled over to a thick growth of some kind of thorn bush.
Oh thank goodness!
she thought as she was hit with a wave of relief. She reached out to pull the branches aside, her hand meeting angry thorns. Wincing, Jahrra pulled her arm back sharply, and at the same time, reached into her boot for her dagger. She thanked Ethoes a hundred times over for having the sense to grab it before darting out into the damp night. She began hacking at the branches she felt in front of her, the thick rows of thorns tearing her skin with every cut.

Angrier that the branches heeded her progress than they hurt, Jahrra gave one last aggressive slash and felt the wall of thorns give way. She wrapped her sodden cloak around her arm and pushed through the cavity she had made. Luckily, the cloak was thick enough to protect her from most of the thorns. She grasped at the broken branches around her and tried to pull up as many as she could to block the opening. She then threw the remaining length of her cloak over herself, hoping its dark color blended in with her surroundings. The movement caused a sharp pain in her ankle and she let out a small, stifled cry. She mentally kicked herself for giving into the pain and tried hard to concentrate on keeping still, willing the strange men to go away.

So, this is why Jaax and Hroombra made me take all of those defense lessons
, she thought with some relief.
They knew that someday I would be hunted by assassins. Too bad all the maneuvers I learned won’t work with a sprained ankle!
The rain began to come down harder and as the pounding in her head subsided, Jahrra could hear the strange voices drawing near.

“I know she is around here somewhere, she couldn’t have gone far,” a cold voice said from somewhere nearby, but Jahrra couldn’t tell how near.

“She hasn’t reached the animal, or we wouldn’t be hearing its cries,” answered another. “It still calls for her, so she must be nearby.”

“Maybe we should kill the beast?” suggested a third voice shortly.

Jahrra squeezed her eyes shut and shivered as the cold rain ran down her hot face. She tasted blood in her mouth. She had probably bitten her lip when she fell, but who could tell? The hot aching of her knee and ankle, and the stinging of the scratches on her hands and arms grated at her patience. She could make out Phrym’s whinnies and wanted more than anything to give up her hiding place and run to comfort him. She knew he was more afraid for her than he was for himself, and at that moment she felt the same way about him.

Get away, Phrym
, she thought desperately,
run!
Break out for once in your life!
But she heard him thumping around in his well-secured stable, frightened by the clamor and unfamiliar smells in the air.
Oh
, thought Jahrra,
where is that accursed dragon when I need him! They’re going to kill Phrym! How can he not hear what is going on?

The sound of the rough voices broke the quiet rhythm of the rain once more, and Jahrra strained to listen.

“No, if we kill the animal, we won’t have bait for the girl. Just keep looking, someone go and stand guard over the creature to make sure she doesn’t crawl over there. I’m going to go get the hounds.”

Jahrra relaxed only a tiny bit when she heard the men walking away. At least Phrym would be safe for awhile, but she knew she couldn’t lay in the brush forever. These men hunting for her would find her eventually; they didn’t seem the type to give up easily. Besides, if they had hounds to search for her scent, it would only be a matter of time before . . . Jahrra sighed as quietly as she dared. For the first time in her life, she wished that Jaax would hurry up and find her.