She complied without another word of complaint.
“All set,” she said, then grabbed onto what looked like two handle straps protruding from a leather piece looped around Jaax’s neck.
“Good,” the dragon said, turning his body and taking a few steps toward the balcony’s edge.
Jahrra tightened her grip as she grew accustomed to sitting atop a moving dragon.
A quick jolt and Jahrra realized Jaax’s front feet were perched on the edge of the patio, his toes curling around the top of the balustrade. She could feel his muscles tense beneath her as he prepared himself for takeoff.
He turned his head one more time to face her.
“Ready?” he whispered.
There was something different in his eyes now. The confidence, pride and fierce intelligence were there. They always were. But this time Jahrra noticed something more. A subtle request for her trust. That, above all he had said to her in the past hour, meant the most to her, even though it was not spoken.
Swallowing back her nerves and slight anxiety, Jahrra took a deep breath, tightened her grip on the harness, and nodded her head once.
With a great whoosh, Jaax lunged forward and brought his wings down. Only, they didn’t brush the snow-dusted patio. Instead, they beat against the frosty, open air of the mountains. Jahrra let out a breathless gasp as Jaax pointed his nose toward the ground, letting them both drop for several dozen feet or more before opening his wings again and taking them back toward the city.
-Chapter Twenty-Five-
Dining with the King
For nearly an hour, Jaax flew Jahrra between the frozen spires and around the carved crags that made up the City in the Clouds. At first, Jahrra struggled to catch her breath in the thin, frigid air, but when she finally got used to Jaax’s aerial antics, she turned an appreciative eye onto the beautiful cityscape below. Before, when her guardian had been anxious to get her to safety, she’d not had much time to appreciate Nimbronia in all its glory. Even now, as the dragon took his time to soar at a leisurely pace, there was still far too much for her to see.
Resplendent and regal, Nimbronia’s countless icy turrets and spires pierced the sky, resembling a forest of frosted swords raised in battle. Wherever the morning sunlight fell, the ice and stone glittered and shone like delicate crystal; a polished crown set atop Ethoes’ highest summit. Arched windows and doorways opened to the elements as well as stone courtyards topped with balustrades and cornices of carved ice flashed by. Thin tendrils of white - roads, paths and alleyways dusted with snow - spread throughout the city’s tiers like great, tangled spider webs. People, elves and other beings smaller than the dragons, bustled about along the roads or gathered together on patios and courtyards, busy with their daily commerce. Their brilliant clothing easily set them apart from the muted colors of winter, like flower petals sprinkled in the snow. Jahrra now understood what Jaax had meant when he suggested she hadn’t seen this city properly.
At the very apex of the mountain, a shard of pure granite rose high above the tallest towers. Wrapped around the spire of rock like a coiled serpent was the gnarled pine tree she’d seen the day before. A black cave yawned beneath the conifer’s base, framed on either side by the tree’s thick roots. A narrow path, carved right into the stone, wound back down the mountain peak toward the city. Jahrra narrowed her eyes, remembering what Ellyesce had told her of the Sacred Pine.
A sudden flare of warmth at her wrist ripped her attention away from the tree. Jahrra gasped and glanced down, only to find the rune on one of the wooden beads of her bracelet was glowing like starlight. The Pine bead, no doubt.
“Are you alright, Jahrra?” Jaax called back to her, turning his head slightly.
“Fine!” she replied, adjusting her grip. Then, to dissuade her guardian’s concern, she shouted, “What’s in that cave?”
She indicated the Pine and the small opening in the rock beneath it.
“That is the Sacred Pine of Ethoes,” the dragon answered back. “The cave is home to a temple of sorts, a temple the Oracles once used. It is said this tree of all those sacred in Ethoes is most closely connected to the goddess, and that the Oracles can somehow communicate with Ethoes herself from within that cavern. And for those who can see bits and pieces of the future, I have heard there is a scrying pool within that can help them sort out which visions show certainty and which ones only show possibility.”
The thought of having that particular knowledge made Jahrra shudder. Even if someone could learn of the future, would she truly want to know it? She thought of her friend, Archedenaeh the Mystic, and wondered if she was entirely grateful for her gift of foresight. Probably not, her sensible side told her.
Jaax circled the Pine one last time, giving Jahrra the opportunity to take a final, thorough look before dropping back down toward the eastern side of the castle. He landed on the balcony of his ward’s room with much more grace than he’d done so the day before, and when Jahrra slipped free of the harness straps and dropped to the ground, her good leg almost gave out under her weight.
Once steady on the ground, she turned and looked at her guardian. “Thank you, Jaax. For the flight, for showing me the city and the Sacred Pine.” She gave him a wry smile. “As much as I hate to admit it, you were right. Getting some fresh air has helped.”
Jaax only smirked and replied, “I often am right about these things.”
Jahrra ignored his smug remark and asked, “What time is the dinner tonight?”
“Not until sunset. I’ll come and meet you then, or send someone to get you. Dervit and Ellyesce will be joining us as well, but I’ll be busy until then. Meetings with the other diplomats and members of the court and those Coalition affiliates residing in this city. As much as I’d like to simply relax and enjoy some time alone, it seems that is not my fate.”
Jaax made a face, and Jahrra almost laughed.
“What will you do to pass the time?” he asked, ignoring her mirth at his expense.
Jahrra shrugged, then brightened up a bit. “I think I’ll go find Ellyesce and Dervit and ask them if they can take me to the stable where Phrym is staying. Oh, and whatever became of Whinsey and Erron? I’d like to check in on them. Oh, and Pendric, too!”
Jaax grinned. “They are a level down from us. I do not think they will be coming to the dinner, so you might want to drop by on your way to the stables. Just don’t expect to linger long. Pendric will want as much time alone with his family as he can get, I would imagine.”
“Of course,” Jahrra chirped.
She moved toward the door, eager to reunite with her friends, but paused and turned back toward the dragon.
“And Jaax? Thank you, for getting Pendric out of Cahrdyarein.” Jahrra bit the inside of her cheek and averted her eyes. “With everything that’s happened over the past several days, I forgot about the promise you made to me.” She glanced up at him, her eyes filling with tears again. Perhaps she should just throw in her cards and admit today was a day for all of her emotions to show.
In response, Jaax gave her a regal nod of his head. “You are very welcome, Jahrra. Now, if you need me, I’ll be in the northern conference room most of the day. Simply ask any of the guards on duty, and they should be able to show you the way. I believe Dervit’s room is the next one over, and Ellyesce’s is two doors down, across the hall. I asked the castle staff to ferret out a set of crutches for you to use until you are fully healed.” He indicated a set of wooden supports resting in the corner of the room, and Jahrra rolled her eyes.
“My knee isn’t all that bad, really,” she insisted, but when she put weight on it, a dull pain pulsed up her leg. Jahrra gritted her teeth. Jaax only gave her a chastising look, and she crossed her arms in irritation.
“Fine,” she grumbled. “I’ll use the crutches.” At least, they would be better than the one make-shift crutch Ellyesce had provided on their trek through the Serpent’s Tomb.
Jaax turned back toward the open sky, his wings unfurli
ng. “Oh, and one more thing,” he added, angling his head to look at her, that mischievous glint back in his eyes. “You might want to consider a change of wardrobe if you are going to be wandering the castle halls and grounds of Nimbronia.”
His smirk turned into a full dragon’s smile before he pushed back off the ledge, stretching his wings wide and letting the drafts of the high altitudes carry him off to his awaiting duties.
Jahrra shot her eyes downward, studying her attire for the first time that morning. Although the jacket she wore covered most of her torso, there was no denying the fact she was still wearing her pajamas from the night before. Letting out a cry of dismay, she wondered how on Ethoes she had forgotten what she was wearing before taking Jaax up on his offer to show her the city, and worse, how many people might have seen her.
Gritting her teeth and quietly cursing Jaax for not telling her before they left, she marched over to the corner of the room where the castle staff had kindly brought up her traveling bags. As she rifled through the wrinkled tunics and pants, she realized her irritation was already slowly evaporating. Jahrra paused in her search and rocked back onto her heels, wincing as her leg reminded her to take it easy. For the first time in weeks, she felt as if she and her guardian were back to the old rapport they’d shared before leaving Lidien.
Fishing out a shirt that was less crumpled than all the rest, she laughed out loud, taking full advantage of her sudden good mood. For so many days now, she had been tied up in knots over the worry and fear for her friends, then the painful betrayal of Keiron, all the while being at odds with Jaax. Her friends were now safe, she had come to terms with what had happened with the steward’s son (to some extent) and she and Jaax were no longer angry with one another.
Once dressed in her warm clothes, Jahrra begrudgingly snatched up the crutches, placing the support bars under her arms. It took her a few moments to get the hang of them, and then, she was out of her room and crossing the wide hallway, easily finding Ellyesce’s door. She was greeted by the elf and an exuberant Dervit. They had been playing a game of Astral cards and invited her to join them.
“Actually,” Jahrra said, “I was hoping you two would take me to visit Phrym. I haven’t seen him since yesterday.”
Ellyesce looked up at her from his seat on a wide brocaded couch, forgetting his game for the moment. “Of course.”
He made to stand up, but Jahrra waved a hand at him as she set her crutches aside and took a seat in one of the spare chairs. “There’s no hurry. We can go once you finish this round.”
The game, it turned out, only lasted another five minutes. Once Ellyesce returned his cards to their box, Jahrra reclaimed her crutches and followed him awkwardly out the door, Dervit trailing happily along.
Ellyesce lifted a dark brow, studying Jahrra’s new method of getting around. “I see you have upgraded since leaving the caves behind. How is your knee faring?”
She gave a guilty wince, not enjoying all the attention her state of convalescence was attracting. “Still hurts a little, but I think the slow travel through the Serpent’s Tomb gave it time to heal up a little.”
The trio didn’t speak much as they left the passage of the upper rooms behind to traverse the grand palace halls of Nimbronia. Jahrra was far too busy studying all the intricacies and architecture that blended stone, ice and magic to hold up much of a conversation, anyway.
“I can’t get over how huge the halls and rooms of this place are!” she breathed, as they entered the massive central corridor.
Solid ice columns thicker than the oldest trees in the Wreing Florenn stood in rows, clearly constructed to keep the ceiling, and the mountaintop above, from caving in. People of all races, some Jahrra recognized, others she had only read about in Hroombra’s history books, strolled about the grand lobby either enjoying the company of their friends or dashing off to some meeting or appointment in a distant corner of the massive palace. Their voices, like their clothing, were vibrant, colorful and beautiful. Words spoken in several languages Jahrra had never heard before, not even in Lidien, echoed throughout the great chamber in an exotic chorus which encouraged her to stop and listen for a spell. Her companions only followed her example.
“Is it always this busy here?” she wondered aloud, leaning her weight forward on her crutches.
“Most days,” Ellyesce answered with an air of authority.
He stood beside her, his hands clasped loosely behind his back. Jahrra looked at him askance, wondering if the elf had spent much time in the royal halls of Nimbronia.
“Like Lidien, Nimbronia is a great center for commerce and diversity, despite its isolation from much of the rest of the world. People and beings from all over Ethoes come here to trade and share news of the outside world.”
Jahrra furrowed her brow. “If that’s the case, how can the king of the Creecemind ignore the fact that the Crimson King has become a threat to our world once more?”
They had started walking again and drew close to the outer edge of the enormous lobby. Before passing into one of the lesser halls, Ellyesce paused and faced Jahrra.
“It isn’t so much Dhuruhn is ignoring the Tyrant’s pressing influence, but rather, weighing his options and trying to come to a conclusion that is best for himself and his people.”
Jahrra rolled her eyes to the stalactite-covered ceiling so very far above and snorted. “If Ciarrohn gets his way and overpowers all the other provinces, then even the magic and power of the mighty Creecemind dragons won’t be able to stand against him.”
Ellyesce gave her a rueful smile and placed a hand on her shoulder. “Very true, indeed. But do save your arguments for when you meet with him tonight. Right now, let us enjoy this wondrous city and see how your semequin is doing.”
Jahrra let her ire fade away. Ellyesce was right. Getting all worked up now was pointless. She let out her frustration in a single breath, then allowed Dervit to walk ahead of her before following him and Ellyesce down another corridor that led outside into a courtyard, and then to a bridge spanning another chasm. Fortunately, this rift wasn’t nearly as deep as the one Jahrra had thrown herself into. From what she could tell, it was merely another obstacle an enemy would have to breach in order to reach the castle proper.
Once over the bridge and through another set of gates, the trio stepped out onto a busy snow-packed road. Tall buildings composed mainly of ice towered above them on either side. Many of them resembled the castle itself, only on a much smaller scale, and were probably the homes of the nobles and upper class. At least, those who were not of Creecemind descent. Sidewalks and storefronts, the diamond panes of their windows most likely polished sheets of ice, also lined the streets. As Jahrra breathed in the cold air, she thrilled at the scents of baking pastries, wood smoke and exotic spices tickling her nose. What shrubs and flowers she saw growing in planters and along building fronts were of an evergreen variety. Small trees and bushes sporting needles and waxy leaves added a hint of green, blue and grey. Flame-red, pink and orange poppies atop thin, spindly stalks defied the frigid temperatures to add some color to the otherwise dull scenery.
As they headed ever downhill, threading their way through the bustling crowds, Jahrra made an effort to strike up a conversation with Dervit, who seemed to be just as distracted by all the sights and sounds as she was. Swinging on her crutches, she managed to draw even with him.
“I never thanked you properly for what you did back in Cahrdyarein,” she said, as Ellyesce led them down a side street.
A bookshop, clothing store and cafe breezed past, barely noticed by Jahrra because her focus was entirely on hearing her friend’s response to her comment.
Dervit slowed, forcing Jahrra to do the same.
“No need to thank me, Jahrra,” he said quietly, his gaze on the trampled snow below their feet. “I was happy to help in any way I could.”
Leaning her weight onto one side, Jahrra reached down and placed a hand on the limbit’s shoulder. When he looked up, she smiled
at him.
“What Keiron did hurt me, Dervit. I won’t lie. I had come to trust him, to care about him. I was foolishly misled by his attention, and that makes it all seem worse. But your actions on the day of the ambush at the Round, and then your instinct to follow him to the tavern and learn of the enemy’s plans,” Jahrra closed her eyes and took a deep breath. When she opened them again, she felt tears prickling at their corners. None of that now, Jahrra, she groused to herself. “You saved my life, Dervit. Twice. If you hadn’t been at the Round, distracting those mercenaries, and if you hadn’t warned us of the Red Flange’s impending attack, I, and maybe even Ellyesce and Jaax, would be dead. Again, Keiron’s betrayal has cut me deep, but your friendship is steadfast enough it outshines the pain. I will never be able to tell you how much I appreciate that, Dervit.”
She smiled then, a brilliant grin that held more joy than she’d felt in a long time.
Dervit sniffled, lowered his head, and then said rather abashedly, “It is my honor, Jahrra. You and Jaax and Ellyesce are the first true friends I’ve ever had, and even when the other two wished to send me away, you insisted on including me.” He glanced up once again, his eyes shining. “No one has ever wanted me around, and you welcomed me before you even knew if I would prove friend or foe. I won’t ever forget that.”
Now Jahrra felt like crying, but instead of embarrassing herself on the side of the street in front of the citizens of Nimbronia, she shifted one of her crutches to the other arm and reached down to gather Dervit into a great hug.
“You will always be welcome among us, Dervit. I promise you that.”
She set him back down, careful not to put any weight on her bad leg, and smiled again. “No matter what befalls us down the road, I know I’ll be that much braver because you are there with me.”
Her words brought her back to the conversation she’d had with Jaax earlier that morning. He, too, pledged to be there for her and offer her some of his courage. And now, she realized, she could find it elsewhere as well, in this small limbit who contained more courage and honor in his small body than some of the dragons she knew. That thought made her smile.
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