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Chapter Thirteen -
An Unwanted Invitation
“I’m not going!” Jahrra growled irritably, crossing her arms in distaste as Hroombra frowned down upon her.
Curse Ellysian! she thought angrily, trying to ignore her mentor’s disapproving glare. He can’t seriously want me to go, to their house! On Solsticetide Eve!
Jahrra felt herself turning red with fury as she recalled the day before. During the lunch break Ellysian, with all of her usual drama, had announced that her parents were hosting a Solsticetide party which the entire class was invited to attend.
“Classmates, I must make an important announcement on behalf of my mother and father,” she’d crooned over the heads of the on-looking children.
Jahrra, Scede and Gieaun stopped what they were doing in their far corner of the yard to look up at the scene.
“My parents are having a grand party for the holiday, and you’re all invited to join us.”
Ellysian put on her most horribly sweet smile, and Jahrra made a gagging face at Gieaun and Scede who promptly giggled into their hands.
Ellysian looked over to their corner of the yard, narrowed her eyes, and said, “I’d like to remind you, that to mine and my brother’s horror, my parents have insisted we invite the whole class, including you three.”
The Resai girl spit out the last part of her sentence like it was a foul tasting medicine or some hot liquid that had burnt her mouth. Jahrra immediately stopped giggling and looked up at the vile girl. She glowered at them, purposely not making eye contact, and drew in her lips as if she had just sucked on a lemon. Gieaun and Scede simply stared up at her in surprise. Jahrra actually gaped in shock.
Ellysian pulled her glare away and continued haughtily, “The celebration will take place the day before the Solstice at our home in Kiniahn Kroi. Dress,” Ellysian paused and smiled malevolently down at Jahrra, “is formal.”
As Ellysian passed around the envelopes containing the information on where to meet and how long the party would last, Jahrra whispered harshly to Gieaun and Scede, “Let’s just throw these out when we get them, no point in holding onto them!”
As if waiting for Jahrra to say this, Ellysian piped up once again, “Don’t worry if you happen to lose your invitation, my mother has also sent copies by mail.”
“Oh great,” Jahrra seethed, “now Master Hroombra will know about this!”
“Oh, don’t worry,” Scede said. “I’m sure he won’t make you go. I know mother and father won’t make us go either.”
“You know, you’re probably right,” Jahrra conceded. “Master Hroombra knows how much I hate them.”
That had been yesterday, and now Jahrra stood in the great room of the Castle Guard Ruin, face to face with her mentor. He’d received the invitation from Dharedth the mailman that afternoon and thought going to such a party would be a good lesson for Jahrra.
“Of course you’ll be going,” he said casually. “It’s a chance for you to witness a different side of Oescienne, not to mention a chance to see Kiniahn Kroi. Besides, Eydeth’s and Ellysian’s parents invited you, and it’s rude to turn down an invitation of this merit.”
A burning log crackled and popped in the giant fireplace, mimicking Jahrra’s mood just then.
“Master Hroombra! You can’t expect me to go!” she exclaimed, arms dropping to her sides in frustration. “They hate me! And I’m sure their parents hate me too! They won’t even call me by my first name! Why can’t I just stay here with you and Phrym and invite Gieaun and Scede to come over a day early?”
“I doubt they’d be able to make it,” Hroombra said, eyes lowered on a pile of manuscripts strewn atop his massive desk, his voice holding not even a hint of amusement. “I’ve a feeling they’ll be attending a party in Kiniahn Kroi.”
“No, they won’t,” Jahrra insisted, the words grating against her throat. She crossed her arms quickly and continued, “We made a pact. None of us are going.”
“Something tells me that their parents won’t allow them to turn down the invitation either,” Hroombra answered calmly, still poring over his work.
“Their parents won’t want to torture them like you’re trying to torture me! I’m sure they only invited me to make a spectacle out of me!”
“You’ll be fine, Jahrra. Don’t be so dramatic.”
Jahrra clenched her fists at her sides and tried not to panic. Hroombra’s calm attitude only made her more frustrated, but it didn’t matter, she knew she’d already lost this battle.
The old dragon finally looked up at her. She stood there in a stubborn display of defiance, thinking he might actually yell at her, but after several seconds, he took a breath and spoke evenly once more, “You’ll be going to this party, Jahrra, so there’s no use in arguing with me any longer.”
Hroombra’s gaze was stern and unbending, and for once in her life Jahrra felt intimidated by him. She realized she wasn’t getting out of this. Just as she was feeling completely defeated however, she remembered one little detail that shone like a light at the end of a tunnel.
“Well,” she said, her mood lifting substantially, “there’s one more thing.”
She let the statement hang in the air for a while, waiting for Hroombra to look up at her.
When he continued his research without acknowledging her, she plowed on, “The dress code for this party is formal, and formal standards for Eydeth and Ellysian are far greater than what I’ve got to wear. So, I guess I won’t be able to make it after all.”
“Oh, is that all?” Hroombra said, trying hard not to smile. “I just happen to know a very good tailor in Hassett Town who owes me a favor.”
Jahrra gaped in outrage. She was so sure that not having the proper wardrobe would get her out of this mess.
“I still refuse to go!” she shouted, as she marched off to her room to fester in her temper.
Hroombra shook his head in amusement. He couldn’t blame her, and if he were in her place he wouldn’t want to go to this party either. But it was a chance for Jahrra to escape her protected little world and see a little more of Oescienne, even if it was only a city just on the other side of the Raenyan River, and even though it meant, for a time, she had to endure bad company.
The Solstice season began the next day and although Jahrra had only a day ago been looking forward to a great feast with her friends, she was in the worst mood ever. In just over a week’s time she’d be in the dominion of her most bitter enemies. Hroombra was taking her to the tailor the next day, so Jahrra used her first day off to visit Gieaun and Scede and hear what their parents had to say about the matter.
“They won’t make them go, will they Phrym?” Jahrra asked the semequin as she saddled him for the short journey.
He just nickered and looked over at her with his great smoky eyes. He’d grown to be such a tall and fine animal that Jahrra couldn’t help but look upon him with pride. Phrym had been her guiding light and her anchor for the past few years, and he never grew angry with her the way Gieaun and Scede sometimes did. Nor did he make her go to stupid parties. She sighed, hoping something would come up and she wouldn’t have to go after all.
As the colt and his rider loped across the barren fields, the cool breeze of winter whipping both hair and tail into streams of gold and dark silver, Jahrra thought more about the dreaded party. Why did she have to spend Solsticetide Eve amongst her enemies? Why was Hroombra doing this to her? I should think he’d at least let me decide whether I wanted to go to a party or not!
As Phrym puffed down the long drive leading to Wood’s End Ranch, a pack of overly-excited dogs came bursting down the road to greet them.
“Calm down,” Jahrra shouted over the din as she reined an edgy Phrym around the leaping animals, “it’s just me!”
She finally managed to climb down from the semequin and was immediately knocked over by the happy creatures, all nine of them, tails wagging madly. When Jahrra eventually escaped her eager admirers, she led P
hrym over to the fence to tie him up and then made her way up to the front of the house. She walked through the open gate and up the short stone path onto the wrap-around porch. The railing and edge of the roof were decorated in ivy and holly for the Solsticetide, and Jahrra even spotted some mistletoe tucked in with the evergreen garland.
As she made her way up the few steps and onto the porch, she noticed that the entire family was standing just inside the door frame waiting for her.
“Well, well, well, if it isn’t Jahrra. What’re you doing up at such an hour?”
It was Kaihmen who spoke down at her. At first Jahrra thought he might be angry with her so she froze. Then she noticed that everyone was attempting, very unsuccessfully, to hide smiles.
“I have to talk to Gieaun and Scede, it’s urgent,” she managed.
“You’re just in time for breakfast. Have you eaten?” Nuhra asked cheerfully, looking more awake than Jahrra felt.
“No, I’m afraid I’ve forgotten,” Jahrra answered truthfully. She’d been in such a hurry that she hadn’t thought to eat.
“Gieaun, Scede, help Jahrra put Phrym in one of the corrals and then you three can come in and help get ready for breakfast.”
As Nuhra began frying some bacon, the three friends skipped away to take care of Phrym. On the way to the stables, Jahrra learned that Hroombra had been right about the Solsticetide party. Gieaun and Scede told her that their parents insisted they honor the invitation as well, no questions asked.
“How can they make us go?!” Jahrra breathed in frustration as they hung on the fence and watched the other horses welcome Phrym.
“I don’t know, but we don’t really have a choice do we?” said Scede glumly.
“I wish Master Hroombra had given me a choice. He even has a tailor making me an outfit!” Jahrra made a face. “I was so sure that I would’ve gotten out of it since I don’t have any nice clothes!”
“I think we shouldn’t talk about it in front of mother and father,” whispered Gieaun fretfully as they trekked back to the house. “They’ll get angry at us again.”
After breakfast, Jahrra spent the day riding and exploring with her two friends. They took the horses down to the Oorn Plain and raced along the bank of the river until they reached Lake Ossar. They spotted a few of the birds that frequented this part of Oescienne during the winter months and they even saw a small herd of deer drinking cautiously along the shore. Jahrra sketched all of the creatures they spotted in her journal.
“You’ve got to make a copy for me someday,” Scede said admiringly, as he watched Jahrra sketch a cinnamon teal.
Jahrra just smiled at the compliment. She’d been making both her friends copies that she planned to give to them for Solsticetide.
A few hours before dark Jahrra bid her friends farewell, grumbling about getting up early to go to the tailor’s in the morning. She rode home much more quickly than she’d come the first time, worried she might run into someone unpleasant as dusk settled in. She waved to townsfolk who were closing shop in Nuun Esse on her way through, and by the time she was coming up over the slope that led down to the Castle Guard Ruin, it was already twilight.
Jahrra led Phrym into his stable and patted him goodnight, then began her trek across the field, puffing and rubbing her sides to keep warm. She found Hroombra lying by the fire looking at some old maps. He turned his head in inquisition as Jahrra’s dark figure became awash in firelight.
“Ah, there you are. Did you have a good day?” he asked casually.
“I guess so,” she shrugged.
“So . . . ?” Hroombra said with smiling eyes. “Are we all going to the party then?”
“Yes,” Jahrra mumbled in a defeated voice.
“It won’t be all that bad,” Hroombra replied, turning back to the old papers strangely illuminated by the crackling fire.
Noticing the unfamiliar documents and looking for anything to distract her from negative thoughts about the twins, Jahrra walked over to the hearth and stood beside Hroombra’s shoulder.
“What maps are these?” she asked. ”I’ve never seen these ones before.”
“More maps of Ethoes,” Hroombra answered. “See, here’s the known world up until a few hundred years ago, before the threat of Cierryon discouraged the mapmakers from continuing their work.”
Jahrra gazed down at where Hroombra pointed with his great forefinger. She recalled the map hanging in the classroom in Aldehren and remembered seeing a few smaller ones in Hroombra’s study, but nothing of this detail or size.
The old worn map was large enough to be a quilt. The document showed the entire Norwester Arm, the part of the world that was known, at least to the peoples that inhabited it, and was enhanced with detailed topography and natural wonders.
The Great Hrunahn Mountains in the north, so tall that they pierced the clouds and almost touched the heavens, were drawn towering over the lower peaks below them. The Great Rhiimian Gorge, a huge canyon that cut long, deep and wide into the desert of the east, looked cavernous, an effect she was sure the mapmaker intended.
Jahrra noted the huge blue splashes representing the giant lakes of the west and the enormous Samenbi Desert, depicted as a blush painted across the land, in the center of the great continent. She let her eyes travel southeast and they fell upon the gold-tinged Dunes of Ehrann, and then to the lost mountain range that cut the Norwester Arm off from the south. The map faded away after this range, showing that these lands hadn’t yet been explored by the people of the Norwest.
After admiring all of the shapes and colors, Jahrra took a closer look and found that the map was also labeled quite clearly. The names of these places were both in the common language and, just below, in Kruelt. Jahrra immediately loved this map, and she soon became entranced, grazing her eyes over it again and again. She read out some of the names in the dragons’ language as best as she could pronounce them, looking to her mentor for help.
“Here,” chuckled Hroombra, pushing over a much smaller map, only as big as the top of a small table, “you might want to start out with this one.”
Jahrra looked dazedly at the new document and saw that it was just as detailed as the first one, only this map showed all of the province of Oescienne.
“The landmarks are printed in Kruelt, but you need the practice anyway. You can copy it and carry it with you so you won’t get lost.”
Hroombra then pushed over a blank scroll small enough for Jahrra to keep in Phrym’s saddlebags, but large enough for her to copy the major features of the Oescienne map. He also pushed a box of drawing and coloring pencils in her direction and Jahrra soon began her work, completely forgetting about her anger at the old dragon and the dreaded party she had to attend.
“You may help yourself to the roast on the fire as well. I figured you might not have eaten.” Hroombra nodded to the remains of a large wild pig roasting deliciously over the large fireplace.
Jahrra lay in front of the hearth for hours, working on her map and looking at the others, eating the roasted pork and enjoying the warmth of the fire on this cold night. Hroombra answered all of her questions about the many maps he pored over and even helped her with her own map.
When Jahrra finished all of the details, she scribbled in the names of the different places and checked to make sure everything was as accurate as she could make it. She gave the map the same colors as the old one in front of her, but the newer drawing glowed with the vibrancy that time had not yet stolen.
When the hour grew late, Jahrra yawned hugely, realizing just how tired she was. Her map was not yet finished, but she could work on it later. As she stretched her back and bid good night to Hroombra, he reminded her of her fitting at the tailor’s tomorrow.
Jahrra groaned, suddenly remembering the past two days. She shuffled off to her room, feeling the warmth from the fire slowly seeping away. She climbed reluctantly into bed, dreading the arrival of morning, but managed to calm her anxious thoughts with painted scenes from her new map.
The bustling town of Aldehren was busy with the clamor of the season and Jahrra suddenly remembered the last few times she’d walked through town with a huge dragon. Once it been her first day of school, and she frowned as she recalled the menacing scowls and guarded whispers from the early morning crowd that autumn day so long ago. The second time had been during a trip through Edyadth, when they had witnessed a slave auction. Jahrra shivered as she recalled the chained people and a pair of bright green, elvin eyes that had made her uneasy. And just like the first time in Aldehren, the people of Edyadth had regarded Hroombra with disdain, moving away and muttering as he’d passed. Jahrra now wondered if her guardian would get the same treatment today.
Either the people of Aldehren had finally gotten used to the fact that a mystical beast lived on the great hill above their town, or they were so caught up in their own business of the day that they hardly noticed his presence now. There were the few stares and pointing fingers of the enthralled children being dragged along by their mothers from one over-stuffed shop to the next, but nothing like what Jahrra remembered. Everyone, except for a few wagons drawn by two or four horses, stuck closely to the sidewalks, easily distracted by the glittering and bedecked storefronts. No one seemed to care about the dragon passing by.
Jahrra relaxed a little and looked around. She smiled at the people shuffling about, tripping over decorations and long ribbons or trying hard to balance gift boxes piled high in their arms. The air held the dancing scents of hot-baked cranberry cobbler, spicy cinnamon cider and roasting chestnuts. Jingling bells hanging from polished harnesses played throughout the city streets, and Jahrra felt a pleasant chill creep over her skin as the smells and sights of the Solstice season overwhelmed her.
The Finding Page 19