The Ascending

by Jenna Elizabeth Johnson

  “She wants to ask them,” the dragon answered just as silently, his keen eyes alert and scanning the shadows cast onto the snowy landscape outside. “But part of her is afraid to. And, she also knows I will not answer them.”

  Ellyesce nodded. “It’s much easier to ignore the big picture, to pretend like this is just another adventure to another city, than to think about why this particular journey is necessary.”

  Jaax snorted. “I do believe you are right. She will have enough to weigh on her mind once we get to Nimbronia.”

  The Tanaan dragon thought back to his conversation with his ward earlier in the day. Oh, how easy it would be to share his own worries with her, but it would do no good to have both of them on edge. He needed to remain focused, to keep up his façade of strength and bravery. If not for all those they would be fighting for, then for Jahrra alone. He knew what he asked of her, what Hroombra had expected of her and he wanted to keep that impossible responsibility away from her as long as possible.

  “Sometimes, I wish I knew the future,” Jaax murmured. “I tell myself it would be easier that way. But then, the more rational side of my brain reminds me that if I did, I might struggle to change it, and in struggling, I would wear myself out and be unprepared when it came to me. I don’t want Jahrra to be unprepared, either.”

  “Then, it’s a good thing I am no Mystic,” Ellyesce said dryly.

  Jaax studied the elf carefully, his eyes narrowing as he tried to read his friend’s face. An impossible task. Giving up, he took a breath and said flatly, “Yes, a very good thing.”

  “Besides,” Ellyesce added with a touch of vitriol, “Mystics are the last sort of people you’d ever want to trust.”

  Jaax only nodded. In that regard, he couldn’t agree more.

  -Chapter Three-

  The Crossroads

  The next morning, Jahrra woke to a stream of brilliant sunlight pouring in through the cave entrance. Already, there were signs of melting snow all around them, the least of which was a small puddle that had accumulated beneath Jahrra’s sleeping blanket sometime in the night.

  “Lovely,” she grumbled, swiping her hand down her damp clothing in a feeble attempt to get rid of the icy water stain.

  “At least the storm has passed, and the weather is improving,” Ellyesce commented in his usual, no-nonsense way.

  Jahrra turned in her bedroll and peered at him. He was already dressed and busy packing their traveling gear onto Rumble, the pack horse. Jahrra wrinkled her nose and rubbed her eyes, still feeling a bit groggy.

  “Where’s Jaax?” she asked.

  “Scouting ahead and checking the surrounding area. Once he returns, we’ll be on our way. Here.”

  He tossed her one of the trail biscuits they’d been eating for breakfast the past several days. Jahrra was sick of them, but they obviously weren’t going to stick around to cook a hot meal. She took a bite out of the hard-packed granola and climbed out of her bedroll.

  Once she was finished eating and dressed in clean, dry travel clothes, Jahrra approached Phrym and got him ready for the road.

  “Our rest is over,” she murmured, feeding him a handful of oats. “Time to get moving once again.”

  He whickered and tickled her palms with his lips. Jahrra bit her bottom lip and fought a smile. “I’ve heard that Nimbronia is a great city perched on a mountain peak far above the rest of the land,” she told her semequin. “The palace and all the buildings are made entirely of ice and ruled over by dragons far bigger than Jaax. Can you imagine that, Phrym?”

  He shook out his dark mane and nudged her with his head, searching for more treats. Jahrra laughed and gave him a hug.

  “I can’t wait to see it, but Jaax says we have to stop in Cahrdyarein first.”

  Jahrra let her mind wander back to the conversation she and her guardian had shared during the first few days of their journey. Cahrdyarein was a mountain city partway between Lidien and Nimbronia. They would be staying there for a few weeks at the most before the real ascent into the mountains began. She found it hard to believe that the mountains could get much higher past Cahrdyarein. It felt like they were nearly on the top of the world as it was.

  The familiar wing beats of a dragon brought Jahrra back to the present, and she turned to watch her guardian come halfway into the cave.

  “No sign of any activity,” Jaax announced, “and already the river far below is swelling with snow melt. I imagine we will be seeing the signs of spring in a few days if the weather remains fine.”

  “That is both good and bad news,” Ellyesce answered, as he led his semequin and the pack horse from the cave.

  Jahrra performed one more sweep of the area, checking for forgotten items, then followed after them with Phrym. As soon as they were out in the sunlight, Jahrra took a deep breath of the fresh, crisp air. It felt so good to be out in the open once again and not trapped in that dark, dank cavern.

  For the next few days, Jahrra and her companions made their way deeper into the heart of the Hrunahn Footmountains. By the third day, only a few patches of snow lingered, and Jahrra was able to find a somewhat dry place to spread her bedroll when it came time to camp. Each night, either Jaax or Ellyesce stood guard, refusing to let Jahrra take over the task, despite her protests.

  “You need more rest than us,” Jaax would tell her.

  She wanted to argue, but she knew better. A dragon could go a few days without sleep until it took its toll on him. She wasn’t so sure about elves, or maybe Ellyesce was just one of those people who had a hard time sleeping. It would explain why he always looked so haggard and worn down. Despite all this, it still bothered Jahrra that she couldn’t help out in this manner. Instead, she often saw to preparing the meals and sometimes, if Jaax and Ellyesce felt they were in a safe area, she took up hunting duty.

  The mountain forest was awash with early spring life, the snowstorm from a few days previous having few lasting effects. The brilliant green leaves of the deciduous trees growing this high up were bursting free to soak up the sun, and the sweet melody of birdsong filled the air. On the finer days, Jahrra would take her bow and arrows and slip into the deep thickets seeking out rabbits and deer. She was careful to hunt only the males, if she could identify them from a distance. The last thing she wanted to do was deprive a litter of young of their mother. During her first hunt she was unsuccessful, but the next time she went out, she was able to take down some wild fowl big enough to feed her and Ellyesce with some meat leftover to dry and store away for later.

  A week after they left the cave behind, the band of unlikely travelers came upon a wide meadow dominated by a small lake surrounded by lush grasses. Jahrra sighed in wonder at the beauty of the scene. Violet and sky-blue wildflowers, as well as spindly willow trees, dotted the lake’s edge. On the opposite side of the water, granite mountains rose like stalwart sentries, their peaks dusted with snow.

  “I think we’ll camp here tonight,” Jaax announced, leading the group to a coppice of pines crowning a small hillock to the east.

  Jahrra couldn’t agree more. Once the horses were settled and happily grazing on meadow grasses, she wandered around, gathering wood for a fire while Ellyesce used his elf magic to conjure up some fish from the lake. By sundown, the three of them were settled around a cheery fire, the scent of roasting trout filling the air.

  “I could stay here an entire week and explore,” Jahrra murmured, her hands linked behind her head, her eyes tilted skyward. The stars were brilliant this high up in the mountains, like diamond dust scattered across an unfurled bolt of inky velvet.

  “See any constellations you recognize?” Ellyesce asked.

  Jahrra furrowed her brow, then let her eyes wander the sky, at least the parts of it that weren’t blotted out by the pine boughs above. Eventually, the bright sparks of light formed into familiar patterns.

  She pointed to the northern section of the sky. “There, just on the horizon. Traagien, and Atrova, the dragon’s heart.”

&
nbsp; Jahrra outlined the shape of a dragon in flight, her finger lingering on the glimmering pink star, the largest one in the constellation, at the center. She continued to point out a few more patterns, the Pine and Essyel, the Guardian, to the south and the Bloodrose and Noiramaebolis, the northern star, resting far above Traagien. Her study of the night sky brought back fresh memories of Hroombra, and her heart began to ache once more.

  None of that now, Jahrra, she reminded herself. He would not want you to dissolve into sorrow every time you think of him.

  “Those Astral cards have been a blessing after all,” Jaax mused quietly, with some humor. “It has been far too long since either of us have glanced at the stars.”

  Jahrra had to agree with him on that account.

  “Shall we sharpen those skills some more, then, over a game of Astral?” Ellyesce suggested.

  Jahrra sat up in an instant, her memories forgotten for the time being. She was eager to improve her skills at this card game she’d quickly come to appreciate.

  “Absolutely!” she exclaimed.

  Even Jaax couldn’t complain as Ellyesce began to deal the cards out. Jahrra felt a little bad her guardian couldn’t really take part, but he informed her that watching the game unfold between the two of them, and knowing what cards each of them held, was entertainment enough. They played well into the night and by the time they settled down to sleep, Traagien had crested the dome of the sky and was beginning his descent into the west.

  Jahrra rose early the next morning to find Jaax gone and Ellyesce, for once, fast asleep in his bedroll. She couldn’t tell what had woken her, but her head ached and she desperately needed to relieve herself. Grumbling against the cold, she snuck off to find a place shielded from the campsite but still within view of the horses. When she returned, she realized that she wasn’t as tired as she thought she was. Not wanting to wake Ellyesce, she quietly removed her coat from Phrym’s saddle bag and made her way to the lakeshore. The semequin, always curious as to what Jahrra was doing, pricked his ears forward and gave a soft nicker.

  “Not now, Phrym. I’m just going down to the shore for a little while. I won’t be gone long.”

  To her great relief, he made no more complaints.

  The air was thick with mist and held a chill that seeped deep into her bones. No matter. Jahrra had her warm coat, the one Jaax had given her for this journey. She buttoned up the front and stuck her hands into the wool-lined pockets, her breath joining the grey fog around her. Her steps fell quietly on the dark earth, heavily padded with years upon years of pine needles. Once she was within a few dozen yards of the lake, however, the loamy soil gave way to gravel and water-smoothed stones. Her boots crunched noisily over the soggy pebbles, the sound seeming to echo throughout the small valley. Jahrra didn’t mind, and she didn’t think it would wake Ellyesce, though it might draw Jaax’s attention if he was nearby.

  Spotting an ancient fallen pine, she turned on her heel and headed farther down the lakeshore. The bleached wood lay partly submerged beneath the lake, its great roots poking out in every direction like a sea star standing on end.

  Jahrra grabbed onto one of the remaining branches and hoisted herself up onto the trunk, walking out onto the portion of the log that wasn’t submerged beneath the water. She had every intention to simply stand there and gaze up into the fog-shrouded mountains as she breathed in the beauty of the silent morning. Unfortunately, fate was not in a docile mood.

  Across the lake, some seventy or so yards away, a great crashing sound erupted from the greenery. Jahrra almost lost her footing as the noise cut through the serene stillness, frightening a doe and her young fawns farther down the marshy shoreline. It took Jahrra several seconds to realize what had made the noise. Geese. At least twenty or more geese, all of them in varying shades of white and grey, came bursting, and honking, through the reeds and rushes.

  A flash of red and white flickered in the corner of her eye, and Jahrra was no longer puzzled as to what caused the ruckus. A fox. A fox had disturbed a flock of geese and was doing its best to capture one.

  “Take flight!” Jahrra breathed from her precarious perch. “Why don’t you just fly away?”

  She narrowed her eyes, trying hard to find the predator, but it was difficult with the distance and all the movement.

  Finally, some of the geese splashed into the water, their wings flapping and their necks arcing as they trumpeted their mutual distress and triumph. A dozen more joined their brethren, then a few more after that. Within the reeds, the fox chased after a few stragglers. Some of the birds, it seemed, weren’t as bright as the others.

  Jahrra furrowed her brow in confusion. Even she could have caught the slower ones by now. Maybe the fox was just a kit.

  A minute passed, and two more geese made it to the water. Another flicker of a red fox tail and the remaining five geese sprinted free of the cattails, honking and beating their wings as they took to the air.

  “Oh, now they decide to fly?” Jahrra breathed.

  But they never made it so much as a foot off the ground. They careened into the water, honking and flapping in outrage. And then it occurred to Jahrra that these geese weren’t wild but domesticated. What were they doing up here in the mountains? And where had they come from?

  Her question was answered in the next second. Someone burst through the screen of reeds, his hat falling to the ground as he tripped over a tangle of plant life. This person wasn’t very tall, maybe three feet at the most. Jahrra blinked in confusion. Was it a young boy?

  Jahrra narrowed her eyes and moved farther out onto the log, trying to make out the individual’s features in the weak, gray light. It was difficult because he was still struggling to free himself from the reeds.

  “Accursed birds!” he screamed. “Nothing but trouble and not even worth the down to stuff a pillow with!”

  That red tail swished through the air again, and Jahrra felt her jaw drop. It was his tail she’d seen? The strange creature gave one final tug at the reeds and pulled free, shaking himself like a wet dog. That’s when Jahrra noticed not only did he have a fox tail but a pair of ears to match. She gasped in utter surprise as a memory from one of her school lessons popped into her head. This wasn’t a small boy, or even a dwarf, but a limbit!

  The limbit stood in the shallows of the lake, cursing and screaming at the geese, who only seemed to laugh at him as they paddled away.

  “If you don’t come back here this instant, they won’t let me back into the village! And you’ll most certainly perish out here on your own! All sorts of nasty things living in these mountains. Boarlaques, dremmen wolves, mogrums!”

  The geese didn’t seem to care. Eventually, the limbit stopped his fuming and swept his hat up from the tangle of reeds. He placed his hands on his hips and shook his head, then glanced across the lake and froze.

  Jahrra had been so engrossed in the entire scene that she’d forgotten she was standing on a giant log for all the world to see. For several long seconds, she and the limbit just stared at one another. From what she could tell, she guessed his head would reach just past her hip if they were standing side by side. His hair was a ruddy color, but closer to brown than the burnished red of his fur. His fur. That was another characteristic she found quite interesting. From the waist down, he looked like a fox, legs and all, but he had a torso like hers and he stood upright. His upper arms bore flesh as hers did, but from elbow to fingertip they were covered in more red and black fur. His ears, however, were the most intriguing of all his features. They pointed straight up like those of a fox, but were attached to the side of his head, similar to where an elf’s or a Nesnan’s or Resai’s ears might be placed.

  Jahrra could have spent all morning studying this strange yet fascinating creature, but a great buffeting wind from above soon directed her attention elsewhere. Jahrra glanced up and nearly had to duck as Jaax glided in for a close landing. He didn’t quite miss the water, his feet and tail splashing down.

  What on Eth
oes? Jahrra stood up again and glared at him. He’d almost knocked her off the log!

  Before she could open her mouth and shout accusations at him, he whipped his head around.

  “Jahrra! Why did you leave the campsite?”

  That wasn’t what she’d expected him to say. An apology maybe, for nearly careening into her. She would normally respond with flippancy, but something in his tone put her nerves on edge.

  “I just wanted to go for a short walk,” she answered, her voice compliant.

  “We need to leave. Now,” he snapped, his keen eyes narrowing, as they perused the lakeshore.

  Jahrra immediately jumped down from the fallen tree, landing with a dull crunch in the gravel below. Her curiosity about the limbit would have to wait.

  “Why? What happened?” she breathed as she worked to keep up with the dragon’s long strides.

  “The Tyrant’s soldiers. About three miles to the southeast of us.”

  Jahrra stopped her forward progression, only to have Jaax turn and give her an exasperated look.

  “I thought Ellyesce could detect them up to ten miles away,” she said, her eyes wide. Another aspect of the elf’s magic she didn’t understand. So far, Ellyesce had proven capable of keeping them well out of reach of their enemy.

  “Yes, but it isn’t an exact science,” Jaax growled. “Other factors can affect his range.”

  “Like bad weather?” she asked, walking briskly once again.

  Jaax nodded. “Or a stronger spell of magic overriding his own efforts.”

  Jahrra shivered. She imagined the Crimson King’s soldiers had a mage or two in their company. If he was determined to find her, then he would use his best resources.

  “Do you think we can evade them if we hurry?” Jahrra wondered aloud, trying to keep control of her panic.

  “We can only try,” was her guardian’s answer.

  When they reached the small hill hiding their camp, they found their supplies packed and the horses ready.