The Ascending

by Jenna Elizabeth Johnson

  Jahrra opened her mouth to speak, but Ellyesce held up a hand. “No, let me finish. I purchased those people so I could grant them their freedom.”

  Another memory rushed to the forefront of Jahrra’s mind, one of a discussion with a young Nesnan man she’d met long ago. Lahnehn, the same young man who’d helped her when she’d fallen from the canyon wall at Eydeth’s and Ellysian’s party, and who had aided her when she and Jaax first left Oescienne. He’d told her a story, about an unknown savior who’d come to his rescue, buying him off the slaver’s block and setting him free. Could it have been Ellyesce who’d given her old friend his freedom?

  Jahrra let her shoulders relax. Of course it might’ve been, and furthermore, Jaax probably already knew all of this. Which meant Ellyesce wasn’t the one feeding information to the Red Flange, after all. She looked up, feeling very much ashamed of her reaction, but the elf did not appear offended. He gave her a grin, and she smiled back, her cheeks feeling warmer than usual.

  “I’m sorry,” she mumbled. “Sometimes I don’t think things through before I speak my mind. And I guess I’m still a bit rattled from the attack.”

  “All is forgiven, young lady.” Ellyesce smiled. “If you’ll forgive me. Had I known you were there at the auction so long ago, I would have explained myself shortly after we met.”

  Jahrra gave a small laugh, wincing as her movement caused injury to her useless leg. She reached down to place a hand over the laceration on her calf, only to realize her entire lower leg was wrapped in a sturdy cloth.

  “It keeps the stitches protected,” Ellyesce told her, when he noticed her surprise. “And will keep your knee stable so it will heal faster.”

  Jahrra groaned. “How long do I have to wear it?”

  Ellyesce’s mouth quirked up on one side. “For now, you need to keep it in place for as long as possible, a week or so. Then, we can wrap cloth tightly around your knee to keep it stabilized so you can start using crutches.”

  Jahrra leaned against the pillows, her face falling. A week!? Weren’t they supposed to have left Cahrdyarein already? They couldn’t afford to linger for that long, not with the enemy gathering outside, ready to lay siege to the city any day now. They had to leave the city behind, for their safety and the safety of the citizens of Cahrdyarein as well.

  “Jaax is going to kill me,” she eventually mumbled. “We were given a gift, time to leave before the Red Flange could overtake us, and now it’s been thrown away because of my stubbornness.” She took a deep, shaky breath, then added, “And Keiron has been captured as well, all because of me.”

  “Keiron? Was he at the Round with you?” Ellyesce asked, becoming fully alert.

  Jahrra nodded. “When I arrived, those assassins already had him. He got away from them just long enough to tell me to run, but it was too late by then.”

  Emotion caught in Jahrra’s throat, but she fought it back. She looked up at Ellyesce, only to find the elf staring at her, his expression serious.

  “What?” she asked.

  “We thought Keiron orchestrated this whole thing,” he answered, his tone careful. “Considering he’s currently nowhere to be found.”

  Jahrra’s fingers curled into fists. “That’s because he’s been kidnapped by the Tyrant’s men!” she cried. “Did Dervit not tell you?”

  Ellyesce shook his head. “No. Although, come to think of it, he seemed rather anxious and reluctant to leave when I relieved him of his guard duty earlier. I shouldn’t have sent him off so hastily. I was irritated after spending the morning listening to Morivan brush aside our concerns as he insisted his son was merely playing a prank.”

  Ellyesce gave a dry, humorless chuckle and rubbed his hands over his face. “I don’t know which is worse: playing audience to the regent’s insufferable, self-aggrandizing speeches, or waiting to hear Jaax’s teeth crack because he is doing everything in his power to keep from burning the Resai elf to a crisp.”

  Jahrra groaned and let her head fall back against her pillow, covering her eyes with her forearm. “Now Jaax is going to roast me instead of out-right killing me.”

  Ellyesce shook his head. “Oh, he would never do such a thing, Jahrra. He means well, even in his harshness. It’s the only way he knows how to show his feelings.” Ellyesce grinned brightly, and Jahrra gave him a pained look from under her arm.

  That’s easy for you to say, she thought. You’ve never been on the receiving end of one of Jaax’s foul moods.

  “And we’ll find Keiron,” the elf continued. “We’ve already been looking for him. The captain of the guard and his men have been sweeping the city and the surrounding wilderness for any sign of the young man. I’ll be sure to inform them he’s been taken under duress and has not betrayed us after all. Jaax has also been flying the ranges morning, noon, and early evening, looking for the men who attacked you as well as watching for any changes concerning the army that stalks us. And you’ll be happy to learn that luck is on our side again. A massive landslide now blocks the road leading into Cahrdyarein.”

  Jahrra came out of her sullen mood long enough to lift her eyebrows at Ellyesce.

  He only nodded. “Might take the Tyrant’s army a week or two to clear it, so perhaps your knee will get some healing time in after all.”

  Jahrra’s relief was short lived, however, despite the good news. Keiron’s disappearance still had her rattled, but soon anger sank its teeth in once again.

  She let out a mild curse and Ellyesce eyed her with wary interest.

  “I can’t believe all of them got away!” she snarled.

  The details of the attack were still fuzzy, but she knew she’d put up a good fight. She had the injuries, and her life, to prove as much.

  “They were highly trained assassins, Jahrra. And it was only the second true fight you’ve ever been in. And you were outnumbered,” Ellyesce said mildly, as if speaking to a small child who had failed at her first attempt to hit a target with an arrow.

  “How do you know they were highly trained?” she grumbled.

  Ellyesce only smiled, his face brightening for the first time since Jahrra accused him of being a slave trader. “I know because they got away, even with an enraged dragon closing in on them.”

  She shot him a poisonous glare, but it lost its bitterness when she saw his face, the humor in his eyes barely checked. The ghost of a smile tugged on the corner of her mouth, and she relaxed. Perhaps he had a point, but she was still annoyed. If she hadn’t been so slow to react, maybe Keiron would have been able to help her defeat them, and they’d both be accounted for.

  “Where is Jaax, anyway?” Jahrra asked, sucking in a breath as she tried to push herself farther up in bed. This time it was a gash in her arm that drew a complaint and not her leg.

  Ellyesce winced. “I was supposed to send word to the regent’s residence as soon as you stirred.”

  He twisted around in his chair so that he could peer out the window. It was late in the morning, but not quite noon, if Jahrra was reading the sunlight correctly.

  With silent ease, the elf stood. “Do you mind if I leave you for a few moments to hunt down a courier?”

  Jahrra nodded and watched as Ellyesce exited her cabin. While he was gone, she took advantage of the silence. The memories of the strange dream still haunted her, and although she felt Ellyesce had been truthful in his explanation, there was still something amiss. When she had first confronted him, he had locked down all emotion, making his face a blank canvas. But the moment he realized she was talking about his role in the slave trade, he had relaxed. It was as if he’d been expecting her to accuse him of something else. Something far worse. What other secrets did the elf keep hidden? Jahrra bit her lip and took in a deep breath. Probably as many as Jaax, if not more.

  When will I stop accumulating friends and acquaintances with a long list of things to hide? she wondered to herself.

  The door opened with a creak of the hinges and the sweep of worn wooden boards scraping across the floor. Ja
hrra snapped out of her internal musings and looked up in time to catch a glimpse of slushy, muddy streets over Ellyesce’s shoulder.

  “I’ve sent a message off to the fortress on the hill. I imagine Jaax will leave as soon as he receives it.”

  “Why are they in council instead of out looking for Keiron?” Jahrra asked.

  Ellyesce heaved a great sigh, and with less grace than she’d seen in him before, fell into the chair he’d occupied only fifteen minutes before. He leaned forward, placing his elbows on his thighs, and ran his fingers through his dark hair.

  “They meet once a day, an hour before noon, to discuss any new leads in the hunt. Even if no one has found anything, they gather and go over new theories and ideas.”

  Jahrra readjusted the pillows behind her and even managed to sit up a little straighter without hurting her leg.

  “You said Morivan thinks his son is just playing a prank,” she said with some vitriol.

  Ellyesce winced. “He’s convinced Keiron is off in a woodland cabin somewhere, laughing at all of us as we run around looking for him. Morivan believes his son is spoiled and ungrateful, and is doing this just to get attention.”

  Jahrra bristled. “That swine!” she accused. “If he was here in this room right now, I’d leap out of bed and punch him!”

  The elf blinked at her, then shook his head. “Then Jaax really would kill you. All these weeks your guardian has been checking his patience and remaining civil, despite the regent’s abominable behavior, and you’d go and ruin it with one outburst of temper? Now,” Ellyesce continued, holding up a hand to keep Jahrra from interjecting, “I’m not saying such an act would be undeserved. But it wouldn’t be very diplomatic.”

  “Forget diplomatic!” Jahrra exploded. “Keiron is Morivan’s son! How can he not be concerned?”

  Ellyesce leaned back against the chair and shrugged. “He’s a selfish person, Jahrra. He wasn’t there with you at the Round to see what really happened. And he views Keiron in a different light than you do.”

  Jahrra snorted, then complained, “Everyone seems to view Keiron in a different light than me.”

  When she looked back up at Ellyesce, she was surprised to find kindness in his eyes.

  “We’ll find him, Jahrra,” he said in a tone completely free of mirth. “We must not lose hope.”

  Jahrra gave him a nod, but said nothing more. For a few blessed moments, there was silence, then the door creaked open again and Dervit stepped in.

  “Jahrra! You’re awake!” he piped, pushing the door closed behind him with much effort.

  Jahrra smiled, glad to see her small friend.

  “I’ve just come from the street market. I managed to find good potatoes, onions, carrots, and even some beef! The baker had just set out some fresh loaves of bread, and I talked one merchant into giving me butter at a discount.”

  He finished his happy tirade and looked up at Jahrra. “I thought we should have a celebratory stew tonight. You know, since you are safe and healing.”

  And just like that, the anger and anxiety lingering in Jahrra’s heart vanished. How could she let worry and sorrow overwhelm her when she had such wonderful friends?

  “That sounds marvelous,” she said with a smile, determined to appreciate this bit of good tidings.

  You can worry about Keiron and the Red Flange later, she mused, but for now, enjoy the company of those who care about you.

  * * *

  Jaax didn’t make an appearance until late in the day, and when he finally did manage to escape the regent’s ridiculous excuse for a council meeting regarding the whereabouts of his son, it was to find his ward and their two travel companions deep in a game of Astral cards. Before announcing his arrival, the dragon stood outside the cabin for a while, listening. First, he detected Dervit’s excited chatter, then Ellyesce’s careful, smooth manner of speech, and finally Jahrra’s familiar tone. His ward’s voice seemed heavier this evening, as if the thoughts weighing on her mind had doubled in size. Despite its lack of cheer, he was beyond relieved to hear it. For the pair of days following the attack, Jaax had fought the urge to raze the city in his anger. Let it burn to the ground and be nothing but a black pile of ash upon the mountaintop. He had almost lost Jahrra, and the very thought was eating away at him.

  Huffing out a breath of frustration, Jaax returned his attention to the small lodge. Since his ward was trapped inside, at least for the time being, he had forgone his usual nocturnal flights around the city and instead spent all the hours of the night wrapped around the cabin. This way, he could at least guarantee her safety some of the time. And should the enemy choose to strike after dark (the more likely possibility), they’d have to dodge his jets of fire first. In truth, he’d much rather have Jahrra sleeping under his wing as she’d done when they first fled Oescienne, but a comfortable bed was much more suitable for her injuries.

  Dervit’s cheery laughter reclaimed the dragon’s attention, and he trained his gaze forward. Warm, buttery light poured from the windows, staining the muddy road a golden yellow. Up the street, a few citizens tramped through the melting piles of snow, bundled up against the cold as they made their way home. Jaax’s lip curled in derision, and no small amount of envy. He imagined their worries and concerns were far less troubling than his own, but that wasn’t their fault. Giving his head a slight shake, he turned his thoughts to the most current issue at hand, the one that had his every last nerve crackling with tension: Jahrra. There was so much he wished to say to his ward, but none of it sounded good enough to him. Don’t you ever terrify me like that again; I’m going to kill the regent’s son when I find him; You are no longer allowed to go anywhere without me from now on …

  As much as he wished to keep Jahrra safe and sound inside an impassable glass jar, Jaax knew better. She was like that light spilling from the cabin. Her brilliance would shine right through the jar’s translucent walls, and then someone would notice and set Jahrra free. If she didn’t break the jar herself. Jaax almost snorted. The latter was a more likely scenario. Jahrra wasn’t the type of young woman who sat demurely inside a prison, her face pressed to the glass, waiting to be rescued. Not by a long shot. And as hard as it was to see her make mistakes and get hurt, trying to prevent them by interfering would only encourage her to be more reckless. If he’d learned anything during their time together, it was this.

  Ready to abandon his own council, Jaax opened his mouth and called out, “Ellyesce?”

  The chattering voices quieted, and a few moments passed before the door swung open. Ellyesce stepped out, holding the door ajar with one hand while the other clasped a stack of Astral cards.

  “Jaax!” he cried with a smile. “Is everything settled with the regent?”

  The dragon winced. “No, not quite. He still believes Keiron is playing us all for fools. I would have stayed longer, but I wanted to speak with Jahrra. Do you and Dervit mind giving us a moment?”

  Ellyesce blinked, then nodded. “No, we wouldn’t mind at all.”

  The limbit hopped down from his seat at the foot of Jahrra’s bed and followed Ellyesce toward the cabin across the street.

  “Thank you,” Jaax said, settling down in front of the cabin so that his head was level with the open door.

  Inside, Jahrra reclined on the small bed, her damaged leg looking swollen wrapped in its many bandages. A scene of her sprawled out on the ground, great blotches of red staining the snow around her, flashed through his mind. Jaax clenched his teeth and squeezed his eyes shut, willing the image to go away. Eventually, it faded along with the bitter, hot taste of rage and fear rising in his throat.

  When he opened his eyes again, Jaax found his ward’s grey blue gaze trained on him. Her arms were laced casually over her middle, and she seemed relaxed leaning against the mountain of pillows stacked behind her. But there was a tenseness about her, just under the skin, a hint of anxiety she fought to keep contained. Her long blond hair was loose and somewhat disheveled, and there were dark circles
under her eyes. She had lost a little weight, which was to be expected, but it made her look more brittle than usual. An angry red line ran from the inside of her ear down her jaw, stopping just under her chin. Her skin wasn’t broken, but someone had hit her hard enough with something (the flat of a blade, or perhaps a short length of leather rope) during the fight. Jaax’s anger boiled up again, but he forced it down. She’s alive, Raejaaxorix. She’s alive, and she will mend.

  “How are you?” he eventually asked, his voice a rasp but audible enough to break the silence stretching between them.

  Jahrra flinched ever so slightly, her lips drawn together in stubborn determination. Jaax imagined she felt vulnerable right then and was doing everything in her power to hide that fact.

  “I’m fine,” she managed. “Well, except for my sprained knee and missing friend.”

  To his surprise, there was no bitterness in her voice, something Jaax counted as a good sign.

  “We are looking for him,” he countered. “In fact, I’m going to make one more sweep of the city and the surrounding forest before settling in for the night.”

  Jahrra nodded, and turned her eyes away.

  “I know you and Pendric are doing everything you can. Ellyesce filled me in.”

  She lifted her eyes to regard him once more, the deep sadness, regret and even guilt apparent in her expression despite her attempt to hide it.

  “Thank you, for making the effort” she whispered. “And, I’m sorry everything turned out this way. I only wanted to spend one last morning with Keiron. I never meant, I never suspected–”

  Jaax shook his head and tightened his jaw. This display of vulnerability was so unlike his ward, it frightened him a little.

  “No, Jahrra,” he interrupted. “This isn’t your fault. You did not make this happen.”

  She drew in a deep breath through her nose.

  “But my actions, my selfish, childish actions, resulted in this disaster.”