The woman dropped her head, trying very hard not to think about the future that was so quickly approaching. She had foreseen her role in what was to come, and it wasn’t something to envy, nor was it something anyone should want to dwell on.
A low, grumbling caw from a fir tree up ahead drew her attention away from her internal contemplation. She lifted her topaz eyes and searched for the bird. A smudge of dark blue and cream, a mere shadow against the encroaching twilight, gave away his location. Denaeh smiled.
“What do you see, Milihn?” she asked.
The bird only continued to carry on, more quietly this time, so she took it upon herself to climb a stack of broken boulders to reach him. Once at the top of the small pile, Milihn dropped from the tree and glided down beside her, hop-stepping across the face of another giant slab of rock. Denaeh stayed low as she moved over the flat surface, seeking out a group of tall stones across from her. Once there, she peeked between them. Fifteen feet below this hidden vantage point, a wide meadow spread out beneath the pines. Just as she’d expected, the scarlet soldiers she’d been trailing for the past several days were setting up camp.
Many of them lingered about, tending to their quahna, building cook fires or drawing straws for the night watch. Denaeh estimated their number to be around forty or so. Three squadrons. Which meant there were still at least seven more units unaccounted for. Denaeh was almost certain those groups were farther back down the road, but she couldn’t tell for sure. How these ones had managed to nearly catch up with Jaax and Jahrra so quickly was beyond her. They had left Lidien behind almost a full week after the dragon and the girl had fled.
A soft rustling of brush and the low murmur of voices tore Denaeh from her recollection. Someone had climbed up onto a fallen tree only ten feet below her position. Gasping in shock, she dropped behind the rocks in a flash and pressed her back to the cool granite. That had been close.
The Mystic waited a few breathless moments, then considered slinking away. But the two murmuring voices just behind her made her reconsider. Now was her opportunity to spy on the enemy. Had it been the middle of the day, she would have fought her temptation, but on the cusp of evening it would be unlikely anyone would spot her.
As silently as she could, Denaeh crept in close again, as close as she dared to a small crevasse between the rocks. Orange light from a central fire gave her just enough luminescence to make out the features of the two men speaking away from their squadrons. One of them sported an ugly brand burned into his cheek. Surprise coursed through the Mystic’s blood. The Red Flange’s high commander and the one responsible for the death of the dragon Hroombramantu? The same one who had surreptitiously spied on Jahrra those many years in Oescienne. At the time, Denaeh had been so caught up in her own plots and responsibilities with regards to the young human girl, she hadn’t taken notice of the other until it was too late. Even now, she felt remorse for what her carelessness had eventually brought about.
Denaeh pursed her lips, putting such thoughts aside. She hadn’t the time to dwell on the past. The present, and the future for that matter, was much too important for her to lose focus. She turned her attention to the other person nearby, the one the commander spoke to. She could not see his face, but even standing within the deepening shadows she knew the color of his robes; felt the oily sickness of his presence. Instantly, her stomach turned over, and her skin began to crawl. If she had been a cat, she would have hissed and emitted a low growl.
Skurmage ...
The word scrawled across her mind like a hot branding iron. Denaeh had seen this skurmage before, a few days before leaving Lidien, but the mere sight of one always caused this reaction in her. Skurmages were the most vile and despicable of magic wielders in all of Ethoes. Not only did they use the blood of sacrifices to work their foul magic, but the longer a victim suffered, the more potent the dark mage’s spell. Skurmages were in the business of torture, and for those who knew what they were, a source of abject fear. Being mere feet away from one, set Denaeh’s teeth on edge. Despite the fact that her own magic could most likely defeat this particular foe, every instinct she possessed was screaming at her to get away from it. But her desire to hear what was being said was even stronger.
“Have you learned anything new?” the commander asked, his voice low and gravely.
“Nothing,” the mage beside him hissed. “I cannot see past the other’s wards. And he has somehow discovered a way to track our every move as well.”
The commander cursed, a string of words so vile they brought goose pimples out on Denaeh’s flesh. When her unease passed, she focused on the man’s words. Who else were these people hunting? Was there another enemy out there she was unaware of? An enemy that threatened the Tanaan dragon and his ward as well? If that was the case, could she afford keeping her distance from them any longer? Just as she was about to leave her hiding spot behind and head off to seek out Jaax and Jahrra, something else the commander said drew her up short.
“Is he still with the dragon and the girl?”
“Yes,” the skurmage replied. “I believe he is.”
The blood drained from Denaeh’s face, and she fell against a nearby boulder. Someone else was traveling with Jahrra and Jaax? How could that be? She would have noticed this person’s presence; seen them as they silently escaped the boundaries of Lidien. Unless his or her magic was overriding her own. But ...
“Impossible,” Denaeh breathed when a sudden, unbelievable thought scraped against her mind. She clutched at the spirit stone ring hanging from the cord around her neck as a wave of dizziness flooded over her.
Her fingers trembled as they wrapped around the piece of jewelry, her heart and her rationality at war with one another. Denaeh had known only one other being capable of that level of magery, other than the Crimson King himself. And that person was dead.
Suddenly, her need to catch up with Jaax and Jahrra blossomed into an overwhelming force. As unobtrusively as possible, Denaeh peeled away from her hiding place and sped across the rugged landscape, grateful for the dark cover of night.
The Mystic shivered and scanned the treetops as she fled. When she spotted a dark blotch perched on one of the spindly branches above, she hailed to it.
“Come, Milihn,” she commanded in hushed tones. “There is much more at work in this grand, unfurling scheme than what I’ve previously foreseen.”
The bird grumbled, then took two hops and leapt from his tree, gliding down to fly ahead of his master, a black, silent ghost leading the way.
-Chapter Five-
A Spy and a Familiar Face
No one slept well that night, and Jaax didn’t sleep at all. Just before sunrise, Ellyesce shook Jahrra awake to tell her they were going to throw together a quick breakfast and even have a fire.
“Really?” she breathed, imagining hot oatmeal with dried apples and raisins.
Ellyesce grinned and swung the soldier’s charm in front of her. “They are several miles behind, just past our last campsite. There hasn’t been any movement all morning. We are at least a full day ahead of them, and despite the fact that we must climb yet another mountain, the road grows much easier a few miles up. If we hurry, we’ll establish a sizeable lead on them once again.”
Jahrra couldn’t help but reflect Ellyesce’s chipper mood as she moved about the campsite, packing up her bedroll and pulling out a clean change of clothes. She had been wearing the same tunic and pants for three days, and she desperately wanted to don some fresh ones. A small waterfall trickled down a crevasse a few dozen yards away from where they camped, gathering into a small pool that was just the right depth for bathing.
Jahrra cast her guardian a look, his eyes trained on the trail behind them. Something was bothering him, she could tell. Something more than the distant squadron or two of scarlet-caped soldiers nipping at their heels. Setting her clothes aside, Jahrra walked over to him.
“What is it?” she queried.
The green Tanaan dragon gave a slight
shake of his head and exhaled through his nose. He sat in that false relaxed pose she had seen so often in cats. His tail even twitched when he lowered his head, keeping his shoulders rigid in case he had to attack.
“Something is off,” he murmured. “I know Ellyesce is using his powers to track our enemy, but I fear there could be more than the Tyrant’s warriors on our trail.”
Jahrra felt the hairs on the back of her neck rise, and for a slight moment, she could have sworn she felt someone’s eyes watching them. Shaking away her nerves and chalking the feeling up to nothing more than a lack of sleep, she sighed and said, “Well, I hope not. But I was wondering,” she paused, thinking how to phrase her question.
Jaax gave her a quizzical look. Jahrra offered a sheepish grin and shot her thumb over her shoulder in the direction of the pool. “Is there enough time for me to clean off all the dirt I’ve accumulated over the past few weeks?”
For a small moment, Jahrra thought her guardian was going to tell her no. Instead, he nodded tersely and said, “Very well. I’ll even warm it for you, but make it quick.”
Not wanting to waste a minute of this unexpected gift, Jahrra turned and ran through the campsite, grabbing her spare clothes, some soap and a drying cloth as Jaax moved toward the shallow water, blasting it with a stream of his emerald fire. When the water began to steam, he stopped, just as Jahrra skidded to a halt beside him.
She stripped off her boots and socks and tested the water with a toe, her face melting in bliss at the welcome heat.
“Thank you!” she sighed dreamily.
Jaax fought a smile, then turned to give her the privacy she needed.
“No dawdling,” he cast over his shoulder. “We need to be on the road in fifteen minutes.”
The moment her guardian disappeared behind a screen of manzanita and other thick shrubs, she commenced with peeling her soiled clothes from her equally grit-encrusted body.
As the sound of splashing and a cheerful sigh greeted his ears, Jaax chuckled lightly and shook his head in amusement. Despite their pressing need to get to Cahrdyarein weighing heavily upon him, he couldn’t deny Jahrra her simple request. He knew it would take him and Ellyesce at least a quarter of an hour to heat the breakfast and pack up from the night before, so allowing Jahrra this one luxury wouldn’t burden them in the least.
Ellyesce glanced up from his task of stirring the cooking oatmeal when the green dragon stepped back into camp.
“Jahrra wished to take advantage of our remaining time here by washing the trail grime off in the pool of water below the falls,” Jaax drawled dryly in response to his friend’s curious expression.
“Ahhh,” the elf said, smiling. “You can’t blame her. If we had more time, I’d be doing the same.”
Jaax shook his great head. “No, I can’t. She’s eighteen years old, Ellyesce,” he murmured, in a rare moment of rumination. He turned his eyes onto his friend. “She shouldn’t be evading assassins out in the wilderness, while on her way to challenge a tyrant king possessed by an evil god. She should be back in Lidien, attending classes and studying, spending nights out with her friends.”
“And courting young men?” Ellyesce added, a mischievous glint to his eye.
The look Jaax cast his way made him laugh again. “Appropriate young men, of course.”
“And by appropriate, do you mean human, Ellyesce?” Jaax pressed, his voice losing what whimsy it had held mere moments ago.
The elf’s good cheer faded in a flash. He had not thought of that. Being the only human in the world might prove a bit difficult.
“Surely there are some fine young Nesnan men out there who are around her age. And it would only be courting, Jaax. No long term commitments. Like you said, she is only eighteen.”
Neither of them spoke of the other obvious reason a long term commitment for Jahrra would be out of the question. In fact, Jaax regretted the conversation taking this turn, because when he did think about that reason, a cold darkness always descended, threatening to steal his breath and slowly suffocate him.
Jaax sighed, casting those dismal thoughts to the side and focused instead on what Ellyesce had initially meant with his comment. This was not a subject he’d given much thought to, though he probably should have since Jahrra was well beyond the age to start taking notice of the opposite gender. If anyone had stood out to her, she had never been obvious about it. Though there was no doubt they had noticed her. He had seen the way the young men in Essyel Hall watched her whenever she attended one of the Coalition meetings, but was his ward aware of their attention? Did she even care? Was she, like him, so focused on the fate that awaited her that all those other details of her life simply paled in comparison? And just like that, Jaax was once again revisiting that dark place he loathed more than anything, the place where the future beckoned and showed him all the horrible possibilities for himself and Jahrra.
The dragon had been so deep in his thoughts that he started in surprise when Ellyesce spoke next, only a few feet from him now.
With a somewhat somber voice, Ellyesce said, “We will worry about it if, and when, it happens.”
Jaax nodded, and the elf turned away, heading back to check on the oatmeal.
“Oh, and Jaax,” he added in that old language only the two of them understood, “whatever Ethoes has in store for us, do not put her life, or yours, on hold because you are awaiting something better, something safer and more secure. It doesn’t work that way. Sometimes opportunities are presented to you because that is the only time they can bloom. Do not ignore the rays of sunshine breaking through the clouds around you, believing the skies are entirely clear down the road. Trust me,” his voice fell to a whisper, his eyes growing distant, “I know of these things.”
Wondering if his friend had somehow read his thoughts, Jaax nodded once before turning his eyes back onto the road above their encampment.
“I thank you for your wisdom,” he replied, in the same archaic language. “And I take it to heart.”
He only hoped that fate would be kind to all of them and allow them to fulfill their destinies before their time came. A highly unlikely scenario, but a dragon could dream. And dream he would. Of a better future than the one he expected; of a chance to right the wrongs of the past. And finally, Jaax dreamed of something that had been promised by the wind so many times before: a change for the better.
* * *
Jahrra reached down and scooped up some water, splashing it onto her freshly scrubbed face. In the last five minutes, she’d managed to wash her hair and scour every last inch of dirt and grime from her skin. Although she could have soaked in that warm water for another hour, she knew her travel companions waited for her. She turned toward the place where her clean clothes waited, but froze in shock when her gaze fell upon a pair of large brown eyes staring back at her from within the blackberry brambles along the pool’s edge.
Jahrra screamed and dropped beneath the water, only her head staying above the surface. She darted her eyes frantically toward her pile of clothes. Her drying cloth, and her knife, were there, well out of her reach. Jahrra cursed, chastising herself for not thinking to at least keep the dagger close at hand.
A blast of air and the unmistakable scrape of claws against rock drew her attention upward. Jaax loomed over the pool, his wings flared wide and his eyes blazing with unchecked aggression.
“What is it?!” he demanded, his voice a snarl.
Jahrra glanced back at where she had seen the pair of eyes, only to find nothing but dark shadows.
“There,” she breathed, pointing to the spot, careful to stay mostly submerged below the water’s surface. “Someone, or something, was watching me!”
“I’m on it,” Ellyesce stated, leaping over the boulders and the bushes, only to disappear downstream.
“Are you hurt?”
Jahrra blinked up at Jaax through a streamer of wet hair. Now that the shock of discovering the spy had worn off, she felt ridiculous.
“I’m
fine, Jaax,” she said in exasperation, and no small amount of embarrassment. “It just startled me.”
Jaax narrowed his eyes and studied her face more carefully, as if he didn’t believe her and was looking for a wound she was trying to hide.
Jahrra threw her hands up and splashed them down against the water.
“I’m fine! Whoever it was is gone. Now, do you mind? I’d like to dry off and get dressed.”
Jaax reluctantly turned and headed back toward camp. The moment he was out of sight, Jahrra slipped out of the pool and dried herself off, dressing in record time. She slogged back to the campsite and proceeded to ring her hair out beside the fire.
The sound of someone crashing through the underbrush interrupted her task. Ellyesce’s familiar head appeared between two trees, one of his arms trailing behind him.
“You will not believe what I caught out in the woods,” he proclaimed, yanking his arm forward to reveal what he’d been dragging behind him.
Jahrra gaped, her hands dropping into her lap in surprise. Even Jaax made a sound of astonishment behind her.
The person who had been hiding in the brambles beside the waterfall was none other than the limbit who’d misdirected the Red Flange at the crossroads.
“You!” Jaax hissed, his breath rattling as his anger churned up the fire in his chest.
“No, Jaax!” Jahrra jumped up, trying to get between her guardian and the limbit.
When the dragon made no move to carry out his unspoken threat, Jahrra turned and glared at the creature.
Ellyesce’s hold on the limbit’s collar was tight, but Jahrra suspected it wouldn’t take much to slip free of the vest and escape. Again. Oh, not this time. She was determined to talk with him. Jahrra took a step forward and the limbit cowered, pressing his fox ears flat against his head and curling in on himself. Well, as much as Ellyesce’s hold would allow him.
The Ascending Page 8
