Jahrra and her friends were lucky once again to get the last carriage all to themselves. They waved goodbye to Lahnehn and Mrs. Addie, and told them, if by any stroke of luck they were invited back, they would be sure to come. As the caravan passed down the great drive and through the gates of the estate, the sun was just peering past the northern ridge of the canyon.
The morning was freezing, but the three companions were still glowing with the excitement from the night before. It had been wonderful, after all, and it was finally Solsticetide. Later on they would be enjoying the company of their families while exchanging the gifts of the season.
Jahrra used the long ride back to dream about the festivities to come. She’d made a bracelet out of shells for Gieaun and had finished an illustrated book of local birds for Scede, leaving many blank pages for him to add more. She’d crafted a cover out of dried fall leaves for the book and had spent months collecting the shells for Gieaun’s bracelet.
For her friends’ parents, she’d collected winterberries and made them into pies, a difficult thing to do when all she had to cook them in was the great fireplace in the Castle Guard Ruin. For Hroombra, she’d saved up old pieces of cloth all year to fashion a massive cushion for him to rest his forelegs on as he studied his documents and maps at the great desk in his study or by the fireplace. Gieaun and Scede had helped her with this, and it had taken her all year to finish.
Jahrra felt gloomy once again as she thought about Hroombra. She decided it would be better if she didn’t tell him what really happened. She didn’t want him to worry about how bad Eydeth and Ellysian had become; she felt that she could handle it on her own. She sighed and allowed herself to be distracted by the beautiful spectacle of Kiniahn Kroi on Solsticetide.
“I never thought I’d be saying this,” she said aloud after some time, “but I wish we could’ve stayed longer.”
Gieaun and Scede nodded in agreement and soon started talking enthusiastically about all that had happened as the glistening city of Kiniahn Kroi disappeared into the distance.
The rest of the day passed as pleasantly as if the accident in the canyon hadn’t happened at all. Hroombra, Nuhra and Kaihmen all accepted Jahrra’s invented story of a slip into the creek while chasing after a frog. It helped that Gieaun and Scede backed her up.
After getting everyone settled into the Castle Guard Ruin, the girls got to work helping Nuhra prepare honeyed bread, potato cheese soup, herbed pork and winterberry salad. Scede and Kaihmen, with a little help from Hroombra, got the fire started and dragged blankets, pillows and old chairs into the main room. Later, Kaihmen pulled out his flute and played a few holiday songs.
As the food roasted, baked and simmered, the gifts were passed around. Hroombra loved his patchwork cushion, Gieaun adored her shell bracelet and Scede his book, and Kaihmen and Nuhra insisted on adding their pies to the upcoming feast. Jahrra was thrilled with the bulbs and seeds her friends gave her and cherished the small, brass telescope from Hroombra. After exchanging gifts the feast was ready, and once the children, adults and dragon were fed and lazing on the many layers of thick blankets, Hroombra began his traditional Solstice tale.
Jahrra, Gieaun and Scede snuggled deeply into their quilt mattress as Hroombra took his place next to the giant fireplace. The logs had burned down to giant coals and the flames were no longer a crackling yellow but a whispering deep orange. Nuhra passed fragrant hot cider to the children and then carried away two cups for herself and Kaihmen, joining him on a chair against the western wall. The shadows cast by the fire made Hroombra look like a statue, and as he drew breath to start his tale, Jahrra could’ve sworn the flames of the fire danced higher for just a wink of time.
This year’s tale was about the creation of the Great Rhiimian Gorge, a huge canyon that cut through the middle of the Norwester continent. Hroombra explained to his listeners that the Samenbi Desert once stretched from the western edge of the Aandhoul Plain to the eastern reaches of Terre Moeserre, before the gorge came to be.
Jahrra listened, eyes wide with wonder, as the Korli dragon described the stubborn dwarves of Doribas who risked everything to keep their treasure out of the hands of an evil king, hiding their gold and jewels in the great lake below their mines. She gasped when the king discovered their trick and broke the dam holding back the lake.
Scede clapped his hands over his gaping mouth when Hroombra described how the water spilled southward, taking the sunken treasure with it across the great desert as it cut a gash into the earth. Gieaun even whimpered slightly when they learned that the treasure eventually became the cursed gold dust dunes of Ehrann.
At the end of the tale the three children lay silent and still, allowing the tragic story to soak in. The king never got his hands on the coveted treasure, but the elves had lost everything in the process. The story made Jahrra think of what had happened with Eydeth. If she hadn’t been so stubborn, if she’d only realized that Eydeth was baiting her, she would’ve left Kiniahn Kroi unscathed. Oh well, she thought with a mental sigh, I won’t let it happen again.
Hroombra eventually broke the silence by offering to show everyone a map of Ethoes. Gieaun, Jahrra and Scede jumped at the idea and eagerly pored over the parchment the dragon unrolled in front of them. It was in the common language, Jahrra noticed; not a single letter of Kruelt in sight. She immediately pointed out the gorge to her friends.
Hroombra gazed down upon the three young children, all looking enchanted in the soft glow of the firelight. The great dragon smiled and breathed out a small laugh, enjoying their innocence for a moment, if only for a moment. These young ones knew nothing of the world that surrounded them, nothing at all, but he was almost glad of it.
Solsticetide evening carried on this way for a few more hours, with the children making up their own adventures across the map of Ethoes and the adults sitting back and reading or simply enjoying the peace. Jahrra brought out the maps she was working on and Gieaun and Scede happily started their own, Scede copying them down in the book Jahrra had given him.
In two days she’ll be eleven. Hroombra sighed inwardly as he rested like a great guard dog by the fire. It seemed just yesterday Jahrra was a squirming little creature enveloped in cloth, and now, now she was only a few years away from becoming the distinguished young woman she was destined to be.
Hroombra shivered, grimacing at the thought of Jahrra growing up. The older she got, the sooner he would have to let her go. No, I won’t think of it that way. She’ll not be lost, the old dragon sternly told himself.
Outside the Ruin in the nearby wood an owl hooted across the clear, frozen, endless night. The stars stood witness to this scene, where a dragon once again taught the children of men and elves, and where Hroombra secretly hoped that Ethoes herself was watching as well.
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Chapter Sixteen -
Chasing Unicorns
The day looked very promising. The sun was out, the air was warm and it was the first day of the weekend. Jahrra lay in bed wondering what she would do this fine spring day. She yawned one last time and stretched herself out of bed, smiling gleefully at the thought of having the entire day free to do whatever she pleased. A chorus of birds camped out in her garden only added delightful charm to the mood of the morning.
Jahrra stood and moved to the window of her small room, looking out across the field to the stables. Huh, she thought with a grin, I swear he can read my mind.
Phrym had stuck his head out of his stable and was looking across the grounds right back at her, his face a tiny gray splash of color no bigger than her fingernail. He tossed his head a few times and let out a good natured whinny, weakened by the distance between them, but enthusiastic all the same. You’re right Phrym, Jahrra thought dreamily, a ride sounds just fine.
Things hadn’t changed much since winter. The days had gradually grown warmer and longer, and school had started up again, but life still went along as it always did. The landscape had gradually turned from brown and grey to green and g
old, and although it was still a few months off, Jahrra was already counting down the days to summer.
The schoolyard, not surprisingly, was still the last place she wanted to be. Eydeth and Ellysian were just as horrible as usual, but Eydeth seemed to have taken more of a role in terrorizing Jahrra. Before the mishap in Kiniahn Kroi, he usually just stood back and let his sister do all of the talking and sneering. But ever since the Solstice, Eydeth had been more willing to be the frontrunner in Jahrra’s torment.
The increasing support from some of her classmates made it easier, but this only aggravated the twins more than ever. Granted, Jahrra’s classmates weren’t exactly walking over and befriending her, but they seemed to react less to the twins’ remarks and often shot them small looks of disgust.
In fact, the siblings who’d run for help at the party in Kiniahn Kroi were the only ones who’d purposely approached Jahrra, Gieaun and Scede with offers of friendship. They introduced themselves as Pahrdh and Rhudedth one day after school and from that point on, they became good friends. Perhaps things were looking up after all.
Jahrra sighed and returned her thoughts to the present. I won’t think about school, I’m going to do something fun today, she told herself.
She quickly dressed and headed toward the main room of the Castle Guard Ruin. Hroombra was already there, studying his books and manuscripts as usual. He peeked up over his reading glasses and smiled tiredly.
“Where are you off to this morning Jahrra?” he asked casually.
“Oh, just for a ride,” she answered in all truthfulness. “Then maybe I’ll go over to see what Gieaun and Scede are up to.”
She often had something more mischievous in mind than a simple ride, but today she could explore with a clear conscience.
“Whatever you have planned, do be careful,” Hroombra replied, looking back down at his work.
“Of course, I always am.”
Jahrra quickly grabbed a few chunks of bread and cheese and packed a small lunch for later. As she crossed the uneven field that stood between the Ruin and the stables, she gratefully breathed in the fresh air. It was full of moisture and flavor and smelled and tasted of the rain that had fallen only a few days ago. Its scent was of warm, moist earth combined with the unique smell of new growth; the comforting aroma of spring.
She closed her eyes as she walked and happily imagined the field covered in blossoms, nodding and brushing softly against her skin; the bright yellow sun daisies, the blue and indigo lupines, the red paintbrush, the creams, butters, lavenders and violets of the wild pea plants, the deep yellow ochre of the fiddle necks, and the brilliant orange of the poppies. Jahrra began to skip as she got closer to the stable, and Phrym, sensing her gusto, joined in with a dancing of his head.
“Alright Phrym, I’m here,” she laughed. “Ready for a ride?”
Phrym greeted her with a rough nuzzle, nearly knocking her over. She sighed in admiration, remembering when his shoulder came up to her own. Now it was above her head.
Jahrra saddled Phrym in record time and soon they were cantering across the lush fields, kicking up condensation and startled doves. Jahrra decided to take Phrym along the western edge of the Wreing Florenn and then on towards Wood’s End Ranch. Gieaun and Scede were helping their parents with the sheep this weekend, and Jahrra figured they would be in one of the back pastures. Every spring, Nuhra and Kaihmen counted their stock and helped the ewes with the new lambs. Scede and Gieaun were now old enough to work alongside their parents and Jahrra wanted to lend a hand as well.
Jahrra kept Phrym a good hundred yards away from the looming forest as they traveled; she was still a bit leery of its deep shadows and strange quiet. When they were halfway to the ranch, Jahrra pulled back on the reins for a short rest. She and Phrym caught their breath and took in the wonderful scenery of the vast rolling fields spreading out all around them.
It was then that Jahrra had a sudden urge, almost as if someone were whispering into her mind, to glance over at the edge of the Wreing Florenn, only a stone’s throw away. The tall trees looked suddenly peaceful, not menacing, in the bright, warm sunlight. Her whole life, Jahrra had been warned away from these woods. Kaihmen’s tales and her own father’s warnings from her earlier years had frightened her away from the Wreing Florenn. But now, seeing the silvery blue and green of the eucalyptus leaves and the cool, inviting depths of the wood, she had trouble curbing her sudden curiosity.
“I did tell Gieaun and Scede that I’d go in there someday, when I was braver,” Jahrra whispered to Phrym while keeping her gaze glued to the forest’s edge. With an unexpected spurt of gumption that seemed to come from nowhere she added, “Well, I feel brave now. How about you Phrym?”
Phrym let out a nicker of apprehension as Jahrra slowly led him towards the forest’s edge, her eyes snared within its depths as if she were under a trance.
“It’s alright Phrym, we won’t go in too far,” she encouraged, patting his neck gently.
They slowly approached the edge of the trees and Jahrra let out a quiet gasp when she noticed that their branches were covered in thousands of butterflies. Many were dancing around in the air all around them, their burning orange and golden-beige wings flashing vigorously like falling leaves.
“You see! Anything that attracts so many butterflies can’t be that bad!”
Phrym, who was now stepping nervously and eyeing the shadows suspiciously, didn’t seem as sure as his rider. Nevertheless, with a gentle nudge from Jahrra’s knees, he crossed the barrier between field and forest and they immediately became engulfed in a sudden, profound silence.
Jahrra gazed up in wonder at the trunks and canopies of the massive trees. They were the tallest she’d ever seen in Oescienne, and they were absolutely beautiful. Beneath Phrym’s unsure feet was a game trail littered with blackened leaves, stiff sheets of bark and fallen branches looking like the skeletons of tiny houses. Shoots of thin wild grass, imitating bright green needles, poked through the layers of leaves and bark. A soothing scent of eucalyptus oil, wild mushrooms and a strange smell Jahrra didn’t recognize drenched the air, and her skin prickled warmly as if a magical breeze flowed over it. The silent forest seemed almost unnatural, particularly since Phrym’s footfalls barely made a sound. Wait until I tell Scede and Gieaun I was in the Wreing Florenn! she thought smugly. They’ll never believe me!
Just as Jahrra was imagining Gieaun’s frightful reaction to going into the forest alone, something moved in the corner of her eye. She quickly turned her head and caught another flash of movement, the strange magical feel of her surroundings bending for a mere second. Something was retreating into the forest. It was too big to be a boar or a fox, too small to be another horse, yet it couldn’t have been a deer.
Jahrra gazed into the depths of the forest, trying hard to catch just one more glimpse of the strange animal. Phrym drew closer to where Jahrra had seen the creature, and she saw movement again, this time deeper in the forest. She thought the blaze of color was gold, but she knew that nothing living in southern Oescienne could be that particular shimmering metallic color.
Making up her mind in a hurry, Jahrra clicked at Phrym, who had suddenly dropped his fearful anxiety and now seemed just as curious as she was. If Phrym isn’t afraid anymore it can’t be too dangerous, she mused.
The semequin stepped forward, snapping a large twig as he moved onward. It was the first sound he made after stepping past the tree line, and whatever it was that Jahrra had seen took off running into the heart of the woods.
“Yaah!” Jahrra kicked into Phrym, causing him to bolt abruptly into a quick sprint.
The beast, whatever it was, moved quickly and smoothly, almost as if it had been born to slide like liquid past the tree trunks and branches that hindered Jahrra and Phrym’s way. It dashed and darted and zigzagged like living smoke, making it difficult to follow.
Come on Phrym! Keep up! Jahrra encouraged in her mind as they crashed awkwardly through the underbrush. After about ten minutes
of pursuit Jahrra pulled Phrym back. He was exhausted from the constant ducking and dodging and both of them shared a good number of scratches and bruises from the trees.
“What was that thing?” Jahrra wondered aloud, out of breath from the excitement.
She was a bit discouraged they hadn’t caught up with the animal, but the realization that they’d run deeper into the Wreing Florenn greatly out-weighed her disappointment. They stayed for a little while in the shade of the trees in order to recover from their pursuit and discover where they’d ended up. Jahrra grimaced when she realized they’d lost the trail they’d been following. A sudden chill prickled her skin as she wondered, not for the first time, if all the rumors about monsters and robbers were true.
The film of magic that had surrounded them at the foot of the forest had dissipated, and now Jahrra felt nervous and edgy. After a few minutes passed, she turned Phrym around to try and make out which way they’d come when suddenly the semequin turned his head and gazed back towards the center of the forest. His nostrils flared and his ears perked forward.
“No Phrym, we have to find our way out of here before we get even more lost,” Jahrra hissed, pulling on the reins firmly. But Phrym kept on looking in the same direction and snorted with a small nicker.
“No Phrym, no!” Jahrra pleaded, trying to keep the panic down in her voice.
Phrym began walking farther toward the heart of the forest and Jahrra kept whispering threats to him as she tried desperately to get him turned back around. He had never disobeyed her like this before and she again wondered, with cold dread, what it was they had chased. After another fifteen minutes of walking, trotting, and unsuccessful attempts at getting Phrym turned around, Jahrra and her semequin came upon a tall row of thick brambles.
Jahrra stopped fighting Phrym and looked up at the wall of thorns.
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