Jahrra looked up at Cahrume, but his gaze was suspicious. The sound of blankets being shaken out and pans being stacked interrupted the temporary silence. She had completely forgotten about her friends and now she looked over at them, barely able to make out their faces in the encroaching darkness. Scede stood up and looked warily at Jahrra. She nodded, letting him know she was all right talking to Cahrume alone.
“Perhaps Denaeh wanted you to know who came through this canyon long ago. Maybe she wanted you to know its story,” Cahrume answered after awhile. “Do you know the history of Ehnnit Canyon child?”
Jahrra shook her head.
“I know very little myself. Few truly know the history of this place, for many have taken means to hide the truth in one way or another.”
Jahrra looked Cahrume in the eye, again thinking about the way she had been feeling about dreadful things happening. Suddenly it felt as if this had something to do with it.
“I will tell you these stories, after you and your friends get your camp set up and get a bigger fire going. This way I will have a full audience, receiving stories the way they were meant to be received, over a bonfire. In the mean time, I will see if I can find you three some food.”
The great beast tilted his head skyward, then spread his immense wings and took flight, rising silently into the darkness. Jahrra walked over and joined Scede and Gieaun who were now making good progress on their campsite. She clutched her arms to her sides and as she looked up at the darkening sky, she noticed that the stars, tiny pinpricks of light pushing their way through the thin veil of deep blue, were beginning to emerge for the night. Jahrra smiled, feeling comforted by their continual endurance. No matter how bad things got, those stars were always there, burning through the darkness like beacons of hope.
The three children spent the next several minutes quietly collecting what firewood they could find. The wide beach of the canyon was littered with branches that had been bleached and dried by the sun. Jahrra threw a few logs into the small blaze and dropped the rest of the kindling beside the fire pit, listening to the sticks clatter together like old bones. She took a deep breath to calm her weary nerves and tired brain, picking up the wild aroma of the canyon as her lungs expanded. The strong spice of the chaparral brush blended with the smoke of the fire, creating a scent that made her eyes water slightly. The mournful cry of a dove drifted through the night and a soft breeze brushed against her sun-baked skin. Jahrra took one more deep breath and sunk to the ground next to Gieaun.
“So, are you two ever going to talk to me again?” she asked quietly, burying her fingers into the dry sand of the canyon floor.
Gieaun looked over at her, her eyes reflecting the fire. Scede picked up a piece of wood and added it to the flames.
“I’m still a little dazed by it all,” Gieaun admitted, her voice sounding dry as parchment.
“Me too,” Scede added as he silently settled down next to them. “I’ll feel better once I’ve eaten, I think.”
By the time Cahrume returned from his hunting trip, the sky had turned a deep, indigo blue with just a tinge of turquoise cresting the western horizon. The great draffyd touched down lightly, his great wings stirring up dry sand and leaves into a silent whirlwind. He carried what looked like three medium-sized game birds in his mouth.
“I hope these will suit your tastes young ones,” he said after dropping them beside the fire. “They are very common around here and I feel less guilty taking the plentiful prey.”
Jahrra, Gieaun and Scede nodded quietly in acceptance. They had spent the day eating dried meat, cheese, bread, and wild seeds and fruits, so the fresh birds looked rather appetizing. After the fire had died down to flickering flames and glowing coals, and once the birds were roasting on a spit, sending a tantalizing aroma drifting through the air as their skin browned and crackled, Cahrume began the tale he had promised them.
“Now, the story of this canyon begins long ago, long before the Tanaan race of humans ruled the province of Oescienne and long before the last human prince led his people to their doom. The truth of this tale has been lost in time, and very few living souls can remember it. All that remains is that which is now etched upon the walls of the stone tunnel at the entrance to this very canyon. It tells of a saga of the past, and it reveals a glimpse of what is to come.”
The draffyd sat back, taking on a regal posture, and gazed wisely down upon the attentive children. Jahrra looked over at her two friends, both finally appearing relaxed, their faces glowing orange from the hot coals of the fire.
Cahrume continued after his short pause, “Long, long ago, even before the Tanaan tribe of humans traveled over the eastern mountains to settle in this great province, Oescienne was unknown to all but Ethoes herself. Everyone knows the story of how Ethoes, Mother of All, offered her own body to become the world we now know, creating and cherishing all that exists.
“She and Haelionn, the great sun god, gave rise to many children, all gods and goddesses to look after their mother’s creation and to be respected by those living on the earth. Their final son, Ciarrohn, however, never appreciated his parents nor his brothers and sisters. He turned sinister and attacked the earth, his own mother. He turned the elves against her and many other races joined them in their attack on the land itself. He proclaimed himself the one and only god, and that only his chosen should live a life of prosperity, power and wealth.
“Many years after the rise of the god Ciarrohn, and before the humans were even created, the sons and daughters of Ethoes, the good dragons and the good elves and all the other good races of the world, rose up against Ciarrohn and somehow defeated him, casting his body upon the western coast. The ancient people believed, and many still do, that the Elornn and Thorbet ranges make up his skeleton, and that the land west of that, much of southern Oescienne, is a dreaded land. The land where the Demon fell; the land that no one dares set foot upon.
“Others claim that Oescienne became a place of sanctuary, for if anyone could pass through the mountains they would be safe, safe from a world now thrown into turmoil. Yes, the terrible god had been defeated, but those still hungry for power and wealth were hatching their own plots to rule the world.”
The fire leaped and flared suddenly when a runnel of grease from one of the birds dripped down upon it. Jahrra, Gieaun and Scede blinked at the spot that still sizzled and bubbled, returning their gazes to the draffyd only after he continued with his tale.
“Years upon years passed,” he said, “and peace returned to the world when Ethoes purged the land of evil and created the human races. The peace lasted for some time, but the great malevolence could not be completely defeated. Many of Ciarrohn’s followers lived on, passing their hatred down from generation to generation. The wicked god’s supporters increased and moved throughout the land, but there was one place where they feared to go. The western mountains, you see, the very remains of Ciarrohn himself, frightened away those who were once loyal to him. Many believe, still, that the mountains are corrupt, but the ancestors of the great Tanaan race of humans realized that they could use old superstitions to their advantage.
“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 cany
on, 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.
The Beginning Page 14
