***
The remainder of the summer consisted of the typical activities that any summer would be made up of. Jahrra, Gieaun and Scede occupied their time riding horses, helping on the ranch, going on camping trips to the lakes and on occasion, making a few trips into town.
The camping trips to Lake Ossar were definitely their favorite thing to do however, despite the ghost stories Kaihmen still tried to spook them with. The Resai man was sorely disappointed to discover that the children weren’t as frightened of his stories as they used to be, often grumbling to his wife as the three friends giggled under their blankets.
“Kaihmen, they’re getting older, they know your stories aren’t true!” Nuhra would tell him.
“Oh, but they are true!” he’d insist as the children let loose a fresh round of laughter.
The trips into Aldehren or Toria Town were a welcome change from riding and camping. That is, they were until they spotted Eydeth and Ellysian stepping gingerly out of one of their ridiculous carriages, their puffed up mother just behind them. Jahrra stared in wrath as the crowd of commoners parted out of their way like abused dogs avoiding an angry master. It took Jahrra and her friends less than three minutes to collect their horses and head straight home.
“We see enough of them at school,” Gieaun commented dourly.
“Besides, there are much more interesting things to do than wander around town,” Scede said severely.
Gieaun simply huffed and slouched her shoulders, loosening her grip on Aimhe’s reins. She wanted to go looking in all the trinket and clothing shops, but Scede thought this was the most boring thing he’d ever heard of. Jahrra thought that some of the stores were appealing, but she really would rather camp and ride Phrym all over the less populated parts of Oescienne than wander around through cramped, overly-perfumed shops. She didn’t mention this to Gieaun, however, and tried not to look too elated that the evil twins had ruined this particular expedition.
While Jahrra spent most of her summer days seeking out adventure, her nights were spent by the fireside with Hroombra, learning the delicate intricacies of the language of the dragons. It proved much harder than she’d anticipated, and although Hroombra was supportive and patient, Jahrra was disappointed with her slow progress. The pronunciation was the hardest part for her, and by the end of the summer, she’d only learned a few dozen words.
“At least I know the alphabet by heart,” she told Hroombra in a disappointed voice.
“Don’t worry, Jahrra, you’ll learn it. Languages take time,” he encouraged.
Summer came to an end with little fanfare, and the first half of the school year seemed to pass with ease, but Jahrra assumed it was only because of all the extra work she was now doing. Although her school work took precedence over her Draggish lessons, Jahrra found herself spending a good deal of time on the ancient and intriguing language. Instead of going to Gieaun’s and Scede’s for the Fall Festival this year, Jahrra stayed home and listened to a Sobledthe story from Hroombra. Jahrra was thrilled to be hearing a new tale from her mentor, that is, until Hroombra informed her it would be recited entirely in Kruelt.
Jahrra slumped and pouted the entire time, only to realize that by the end of it she had followed the story line pretty well.
“Wow!” she told Hroombra afterwards. “I didn’t think I’d be able to understand!”
The great dragon smiled, his eyes twinkling. “Now you see, I told you that you’d get it after a while.”
Hroombra didn’t have the heart to tell her that he’d used only the easiest of words and the simplest of pronunciations for this particular story.
The fall gradually drifted into winter and Jahrra began counting down the days to Solsticetide. She was especially excited because Gieaun, Scede, Kaihmen and Nuhra would be joining them for Solstice dinner.
“I can’t wait!” Jahrra told her two friends on their way to school the final day before the winter break. “It’ll be so much fun with you all over for the holiday.”
She smiled wistfully, not at all worried about what Eydeth and Ellysian might say to her this day. It was going to be the best Solsticetide ever and nothing, not even the twins, could ruin it. At least, that is what she told herself.
-Chapter Thirteen-
An Unwanted Invitation
“I’m not going!” Jahrra growled irritably, crossing her arms in distaste as Hroombra frowned down upon her.
Curse Ellysian! she thought angrily, trying to ignore her mentor’s disapproving glare. He can’t seriously want me to go, to their house! On Solsticetide Eve!
Jahrra felt herself turning red with fury as she recalled the day before. During the lunch break Ellysian, with all of her usual drama, had announced that her parents were hosting a Solsticetide party which the entire class was invited to attend.
“Classmates, I must make an important announcement on behalf of my mother and father,” she’d crooned over the heads of the on-looking children.
Jahrra, Scede and Gieaun stopped what they were doing in their far corner of the yard to look up at the scene.
“My parents are having a grand party for the holiday, and you’re all invited to join us.”
Ellysian put on her most horribly sweet smile, and Jahrra made a gagging face at Gieaun and Scede who promptly giggled into their hands.
Ellysian looked over to their corner of the yard, narrowed her eyes, and said, “I’d like to remind you, that to mine and my brother’s horror, my parents have insisted we invite the whole class, including you three.”
The Resai girl spit out the last part of her sentence like it was a foul tasting medicine or some hot liquid that had burnt her mouth. Jahrra immediately stopped giggling and looked up at the vile girl. She glowered at them, purposely not making eye contact, and drew in her lips as if she had just sucked on a lemon. Gieaun and Scede simply stared up at her in surprise. Jahrra actually gaped in shock.
Ellysian pulled her glare away and continued haughtily, “The celebration will take place the day before the Solstice at our home in Kiniahn Kroi. Dress,” Ellysian paused and smiled malevolently down at Jahrra, “is formal.”
As Ellysian passed around the envelopes containing the information on where to meet and how long the party would last, Jahrra whispered harshly to Gieaun and Scede, “Let’s just throw these out when we get them, no point in holding onto them!”
As if waiting for Jahrra to say this, Ellysian piped up once again, “Don’t worry if you happen to lose your invitation, my mother has also sent copies by mail.”
“Oh great,” Jahrra seethed, “now Master Hroombra will know about this!”
“Oh, don’t worry,” Scede said. “I’m sure he won’t make you go. I know mother and father won’t make us go either.”
“You know, you’re probably right,” Jahrra conceded. “Master Hroombra knows how much I hate them.”
That had been yesterday, and now Jahrra stood in the great room of the Castle Guard Ruin, face to face with her mentor. He’d received the invitation from Dharedth the mailman that afternoon and thought going to such a party would be a good lesson for Jahrra.
“Of course you’ll be going,” he said casually. “It’s a chance for you to witness a different side of Oescienne, not to mention a chance to see Kiniahn Kroi. Besides, Eydeth’s and Ellysian’s parents invited you, and it’s rude to turn down an invitation of this merit.”
A burning log crackled and popped in the giant fireplace, mimicking Jahrra’s mood just then.
“Master Hroombra! You can’t expect me to go!” she exclaimed, arms dropping to her sides in frustration. “They hate me! And I’m sure their parents hate me too! They won’t even call me by my first name! Why can’t I just stay here with you and Phrym and invite Gieaun and Scede to come over a day early?”
“I doubt they’d be able to make it,” Hroombra said, eyes lowered on a pile of manuscripts strewn atop his massive desk, his voice holding not even a hint of amusement.
“I’ve a feeling they’ll be attending a party in Kiniahn Kroi.”
“No, they won’t,” Jahrra insisted, the words grating against her throat. She crossed her arms quickly and continued, “We made a pact. None of us are going.”
“Something tells me that their parents won’t allow them to turn down the invitation either,” Hroombra answered calmly, still poring over his work.
“Their parents won’t want to torture them like you’re trying to torture me! I’m sure they only invited me to make a spectacle out of me!”
“You’ll be fine, Jahrra. Don’t be so dramatic.”
Jahrra clenched her fists at her sides and tried not to panic. Hroombra’s calm attitude only made her more frustrated, but it didn’t matter, she knew she’d already lost this battle.
The old dragon finally looked up at her. She stood there in a stubborn display of defiance, thinking he might actually yell at her, but after several seconds, he took a breath and spoke evenly once more, “You’ll be going to this party, Jahrra, so there’s no use in arguing with me any longer.”
Hroombra’s gaze was stern and unbending, and for once in her life Jahrra felt intimidated by him. She realized she wasn’t getting out of this. Just as she was feeling completely defeated however, she remembered one little detail that shone like a light at the end of a tunnel.
“Well,” she said, her mood lifting substantially, “there’s one more thing.”
She let the statement hang in the air for a while, waiting for Hroombra to look up at her.
When he continued his research without acknowledging her, she plowed on, “The dress code for this party is formal, and formal standards for Eydeth and Ellysian are far greater than what I’ve got to wear. So, I guess I won’t be able to make it after all.”
“Oh, is that all?” Hroombra said, trying hard not to smile. “I just happen to know a very good tailor in Hassett Town who owes me a favor.”
Jahrra gaped in outrage. She was so sure that not having the proper wardrobe would get her out of this mess.
“I still refuse to go!” she shouted, as she marched off to her room to fester in her temper.
Hroombra shook his head in amusement. He couldn’t blame her, and if he were in her place he wouldn’t want to go to this party either. But it was a chance for Jahrra to escape her protected little world and see a little more of Oescienne, even if it was only a city just on the other side of the Raenyan River, and even though it meant, for a time, she had to endure bad company.
The Solstice season began the next day and although Jahrra had only a day ago been looking forward to a great feast with her friends, she was in the worst mood ever. In just over a week’s time she’d be in the dominion of her most bitter enemies. Hroombra was taking her to the tailor the next day, so Jahrra used her first day off to visit Gieaun and Scede and hear what their parents had to say about the matter.
“They won’t make them go, will they Phrym?” Jahrra asked the semequin as she saddled him for the short journey.
He just nickered and looked over at her with his great smoky eyes. He’d grown to be such a tall and fine animal that Jahrra couldn’t help but look upon him with pride. Phrym had been her guiding light and her anchor for the past few years, and he never grew angry with her the way Gieaun and Scede sometimes did. Nor did he make her go to stupid parties. She sighed, hoping something would come up and she wouldn’t have to go after all.
As the colt and his rider loped across the barren fields, the cool breeze of winter whipping both hair and tail into streams of gold and dark silver, Jahrra thought more about the dreaded party. Why did she have to spend Solsticetide Eve amongst her enemies? Why was Hroombra doing this to her? I should think he’d at least let me decide whether I wanted to go to a party or not!
As Phrym puffed down the long drive leading to Wood’s End Ranch, a pack of overly-excited dogs came bursting down the road to greet them.
“Calm down,” Jahrra shouted over the din as she reined an edgy Phrym around the leaping animals, “it’s just me!”
She finally managed to climb down from the semequin and was immediately knocked over by the happy creatures, all nine of them, tails wagging madly. When Jahrra eventually escaped her eager admirers, she led Phrym over to the fence to tie him up and then made her way up to the front of the house. She walked through the open gate and up the short stone path onto the wrap-around porch. The railing and edge of the roof were decorated in ivy and holly for the Solsticetide, and Jahrra even spotted some mistletoe tucked in with the evergreen garland.
As she made her way up the few steps and onto the porch, she noticed that the entire family was standing just inside the door frame waiting for her.
“Well, well, well, if it isn’t Jahrra. What’re you doing up at such an hour?”
It was Kaihmen who spoke down at her. At first Jahrra thought he might be angry with her so she froze. Then she noticed that everyone was attempting, very unsuccessfully, to hide smiles.
“I have to talk to Gieaun and Scede, it’s urgent,” she managed.
“You’re just in time for breakfast. Have you eaten?” Nuhra asked cheerfully, looking more awake than Jahrra felt.
“No, I’m afraid I’ve forgotten,” Jahrra answered truthfully. She’d been in such a hurry that she hadn’t thought to eat.
“Gieaun, Scede, help Jahrra put Phrym in one of the corrals and then you three can come in and help get ready for breakfast.”
As Nuhra began frying some bacon, the three friends skipped away to take care of Phrym. On the way to the stables, Jahrra learned that Hroombra had been right about the Solsticetide party. Gieaun and Scede told her that their parents insisted they honor the invitation as well, no questions asked.
“How can they make us go?!” Jahrra breathed in frustration as they hung on the fence and watched the other horses welcome Phrym.
“I don’t know, but we don’t really have a choice do we?” said Scede glumly.
“I wish Master Hroombra had given me a choice. He even has a tailor making me an outfit!” Jahrra made a face. “I was so sure that I would’ve gotten out of it since I don’t have any nice clothes!”
“I think we shouldn’t talk about it in front of mother and father,” whispered Gieaun fretfully as they trekked back to the house. “They’ll get angry at us again.”
After breakfast, Jahrra spent the day riding and exploring with her two friends. They took the horses down to the Oorn Plain and raced along the bank of the river until they reached Lake Ossar. They spotted a few of the birds that frequented this part of Oescienne during the winter months and they even saw a small herd of deer drinking cautiously along the shore. Jahrra sketched all of the creatures they spotted in her journal.
“You’ve got to make a copy for me someday,” Scede said admiringly, as he watched Jahrra sketch a cinnamon teal.
Jahrra just smiled at the compliment. She’d been making both her friends copies that she planned to give to them for Solsticetide.
A few hours before dark Jahrra bid her friends farewell, grumbling about getting up early to go to the tailor’s in the morning. She rode home much more quickly than she’d come the first time, worried she might run into someone unpleasant as dusk settled in. She waved to townsfolk who were closing shop in Nuun Esse on her way through, and by the time she was coming up over the slope that led down to the Castle Guard Ruin, it was already twilight.
Jahrra led Phrym into his stable and patted him goodnight, then began her trek across the field, puffing and rubbing her sides to keep warm. She found Hroombra lying by the fire looking at some old maps. He turned his head in inquisition as Jahrra’s dark figure became awash in firelight.
“Ah, there you are. Did you have a good day?” he asked casually.
“I guess so,” she shrugged.
“So . . . ?” Hroombra said with smiling eyes. “Are we all going to the party then?”
“Yes,” Jahrra mumbled in a defeated
voice.
“It won’t be all that bad,” Hroombra replied, turning back to the old papers strangely illuminated by the crackling fire.
Noticing the unfamiliar documents and looking for anything to distract her from negative thoughts about the twins, Jahrra walked over to the hearth and stood beside Hroombra’s shoulder.
“What maps are these?” she asked. ”I’ve never seen these ones before.”
“More maps of Ethoes,” Hroombra answered. “See, here’s the known world up until a few hundred years ago, before the threat of Cierryon discouraged the mapmakers from continuing their work.”
Jahrra gazed down at where Hroombra pointed with his great forefinger. She recalled the map hanging in the classroom in Aldehren and remembered seeing a few smaller ones in Hroombra’s study, but nothing of this detail or size.
The old worn map was large enough to be a quilt. The document showed the entire Norwester Arm, the part of the world that was known, at least to the peoples that inhabited it, and was enhanced with detailed topography and natural wonders.
The Great Hrunahn Mountains in the north, so tall that they pierced the clouds and almost touched the heavens, were drawn towering over the lower peaks below them. The Great Rhiimian Gorge, a huge canyon that cut long, deep and wide into the desert of the east, looked cavernous, an effect she was sure the mapmaker intended.
Jahrra noted the huge blue splashes representing the giant lakes of the west and the enormous Samenbi Desert, depicted as a blush painted across the land, in the center of the great continent. She let her eyes travel southeast and they fell upon the gold-tinged Dunes of Ehrann, and then to the lost mountain range that cut the Norwester Arm off from the south. The map faded away after this range, showing that these lands hadn’t yet been explored by the people of the Norwest.
After admiring all of the shapes and colors, Jahrra took a closer look and found that the map was also labeled quite clearly. The names of these places were both in the common language and, just below, in Kruelt. Jahrra immediately loved this map, and she soon became entranced, grazing her eyes over it again and again. She read out some of the names in the dragons’ language as best as she could pronounce them, looking to her mentor for help.
“Here,” chuckled Hroombra, pushing over a much smaller map, only as big as the top of a small table, “you might want to start out with this one.”
Jahrra looked dazedly at the new document and saw that it was just as detailed as the first one, only this map showed all of the province of Oescienne.
“The landmarks are printed in Kruelt, but you need the practice anyway. You can copy it and carry it with you so you won’t get lost.”
Hroombra then pushed over a blank scroll small enough for Jahrra to keep in Phrym’s saddlebags, but large enough for her to copy the major features of the Oescienne map. He also pushed a box of drawing and coloring pencils in her direction and Jahrra soon began her work, completely forgetting about her anger at the old dragon and the dreaded party she had to attend.
“You may help yourself to the roast on the fire as well. I figured you might not have eaten.” Hroombra nodded to the remains of a large wild pig roasting deliciously over the large fireplace.
Jahrra lay in front of the hearth for hours, working on her map and looking at the others, eating the roasted pork and enjoying the warmth of the fire on this cold night. Hroombra answered all of her questions about the many maps he pored over and even helped her with her own map.
When Jahrra finished all of the details, she scribbled in the names of the different places and checked to make sure everything was as accurate as she could make it. She gave the map the same colors as the old one in front of her, but the newer drawing glowed with the vibrancy that time had not yet stolen.
When the hour grew late, Jahrra yawned hugely, realizing just how tired she was. Her map was not yet finished, but she could work on it later. As she stretched her back and bid good night to Hroombra, he reminded her of her fitting at the tailor’s tomorrow.
Jahrra groaned, suddenly remembering the past two days. She shuffled off to her room, feeling the warmth from the fire slowly seeping away. She climbed reluctantly into bed, dreading the arrival of morning, but managed to calm her anxious thoughts with painted scenes from her new map.
The next day Hroombra and Jahrra traveled to Aldehren in hopes of finding the perfect outfit for the Solsticetide party. The journey was slow going and although Jahrra loathed the idea of spending a day away from her friends, she couldn’t help being curious about the many fabrics the tailor might have to offer.
The bustling town of Aldehren was busy with the clamor of the season and Jahrra suddenly remembered the last few times she’d walked through town with a huge dragon. Once it been her first day of school, and she frowned as she recalled the menacing scowls and guarded whispers from the early morning crowd that autumn day so long ago. The second time had been during a trip through Edyadth, when they had witnessed a slave auction. Jahrra shivered as she recalled the chained people and a pair of bright green, elvin eyes that had made her uneasy. And just like the first time in Aldehren, the people of Edyadth had regarded Hroombra with disdain, moving away and muttering as he’d passed. Jahrra now wondered if her guardian would get the same treatment today.
Either the people of Aldehren had finally gotten used to the fact that a mystical beast lived on the great hill above their town, or they were so caught up in their own business of the day that they hardly noticed his presence now. There were the few stares and pointing fingers of the enthralled children being dragged along by their mothers from one over-stuffed shop to the next, but nothing like what Jahrra remembered. Everyone, except for a few wagons drawn by two or four horses, stuck closely to the sidewalks, easily distracted by the glittering and bedecked storefronts. No one seemed to care about the dragon passing by.
Jahrra relaxed a little and looked around. She smiled at the people shuffling about, tripping over decorations and long ribbons or trying hard to balance gift boxes piled high in their arms. The air held the dancing scents of hot-baked cranberry cobbler, spicy cinnamon cider and roasting chestnuts. Jingling bells hanging from polished harnesses played throughout the city streets, and Jahrra felt a pleasant chill creep over her skin as the smells and sights of the Solstice season overwhelmed her.
Hroombra eventually stopped in front of an obscure little shop painted a dark, brilliant blue with a wooden sign hanging above the holly-draped door. The sign read Gahlen’s Fine Clothery, and Jahrra realized with a tiny grimace that this must be the tailor’s shop. She reluctantly slid off of Hroombra’s back as he stood blocking the flow of traffic. It seemed people were taking notice of him now, giving puzzled looks and muttering irritably as they shoved passed him.
“I’ll wait right here for you Jahrra,” he said in a low voice, eyeing the person-sized door in front of them.
“Alright,” she gulped.
Jahrra turned the handle of the door and pushed, causing a cheerful jingle of bells to chatter above her head. She stepped cautiously into the small, cramped tailor’s shop, the buzz of the crowd ceasing as the door swung shut. Jahrra blinked as her eyes became overwhelmed with an explosion of vibrant color.
Cotton, silk, satin, denim, lace, linen and wool, every type of fabric in every color imaginable populated the small space she stood in. Streams of cloth hung like banners on the walls and huge folded squares of it were piled as high as the ceiling. Jahrra had never seen anything so colorful in her life. It was like all of the rainbows of the world had been trapped in this tiny place and were trying desperately to escape.
The light that flooded in from the many tall windows facing the street glowed with the color of whatever pattern stood in their way. The aroma of cinnamon, shoe polish and something more stringent, perhaps the fumes from the dye used to create these brilliantly painted fabrics, tainted the room. It was a strange combination of scents, but Jahrra liked it, smiling despite her w
ariness.
A grunt from somewhere in the back of the room made her yelp. A very tall and thin older Resai man came dancing into view, loaded down with an armful of even more fabric. When he dumped the folds onto the already crowded cashier’s counter, Jahrra noticed that he had no hair but a long grey beard he kept braided. His legs and arms were so long and gangly that if he had another set of each Jahrra would have been convinced he was an oversized daddy-long-legs spider. She giggled at the thought, but quickly stifled her laughter knowing that it would appear rude.
The tailor seemed preoccupied, so Jahrra politely cleared her throat. The man stopped his humming and whirled around to gaze quizzically down at her. He had bright, pale brown eyes and almost as many wrinkles as Hroombra.
“Why, I didn’t hear you enter! How may I help you dearie?” he asked in a melodic voice, straightening up to an even taller height.
Jahrra quickly and awkwardly explained who she was and why she was there. After a swift glance through the window to find Hroombra smiling in encouragement, the tailor got straight to work. Although Jahrra had grown to be one of the tallest in her class so far, the kind man still had to bend down in order to pat her on the head, which he did quite frequently.
“What a lovely child!” he said enthusiastically. “Such good bone structure, and look at that hair! Like threads of gold.”
Jahrra thought the man was exaggerating about her hair, but she liked him anyways. He cheered her up and actually looked happy, not annoyed, to see Hroombra loitering outside his door.
The fitting took longer than expected, but Jahrra was much amused by the tailor’s chatter. He placed her up on a small stool and began draping acres of fabric over her as if he were trying to build a mountain. Then he would scurry around the small room muttering to himself while constantly measuring her with yellow tape.
“Tsk, tsk,” he would say with chin in hand. “That color won’t do, no sir-ee. AHHH!” he exclaimed, making Jahrra jump as he pulled off several layers of cloth, almost knocking her off her perch. “This’ll do much better.”
What he thought would do was a pretty blue and silver patterned fabric that looked like silk. Jahrra was wondering where it had been because she didn’t remember being draped with that particular color. She liked it very much though, and wondered what he would make with it.
“What do you think?” he flapped the fabric boisterously in front of Hroombra, who was now peering in through the door so he could hear everything.
“Very nice. It’ll do well, very well indeed,” was the dragon’s approving reply.
“Yes, it goes well with her eye color,” said the tailor, once again distracted with the aesthetics of his job.
He then found a solid blue material that matched the blue highlights in the first fabric.
“Good, good, good.” he twittered, trailing blue and silver sheets of fabric over to his crowded desk. “I’ll work on this for a few days. Then I’ll need you to come back, young lady, for a fitting.”
The tailor smiled and patted Jahrra’s head once again before releasing her to Hroombra. They left for home with Jahrra feeling a little more than dazed by the strange experience.
“What exactly is he making?” she asked once they left the noisy town behind.
“I would think he’s making a skirt and a blouse,” Hroombra said knowledgeably.
“A skirt!” Jahrra blurted. “Are you crazy, I can’t wear a skirt!”
“Oh, yes you can. It’s formal dress, remember?” Hroombra answered firmly.
Jahrra groaned aloud. She hated the idea of wearing anything girly. She hated girly things, plus, they were uncomfortable. All she knew was that Ellysian was always girly, and the last thing she wanted was to be anything like Ellysian. Jahrra crossed her arms with a disgruntled huff. A skirt! Why a skirt? she thought miserably. Well, she sighed inwardly, knowing there was nothing she could do about it now, at least it’s blue.
The next week passed quickly, with Jahrra and Hroombra traveling to town twice more to try on her outfit, buy shoes and jewelry to match, and to finally take the whole lot home to prepare for the party.
Finally, after two weeks of uncomfortable anticipation, the day of the dreaded event arrived. Jahrra rode Phrym to her friends’ ranch early in the morning on Solstice Eve. Kaihmen and Nuhra had offered to drive the children into town, and Hroombra thought it best if Jahrra got ready at Wood’s End Ranch.
“Be sure your skirt and blouse are tucked well into the saddlebag so they won’t get dirty!” Hroombra shouted after Jahrra as Phrym tore across the frost coated fields.
Jahrra had half a mind to get them dirty on purpose. That’ll show the twins, showing up in stained clothes to their fancy party! she thought slyly. Then she remembered the trouble Hroombra had gone to in order to get the outfit made for her. She quickly forgot about how she could sabotage the twins’ evening and turned her focus on how to survive it.
Once she reached the ranch and Phrym was put away safely into the stables, Jahrra went inside to greet her friends.
“What’re you going to wear?” Gieaun asked gleefully dragging her friend upstairs. Apparently, the notion of dressing up had suddenly overshadowed the reality of where they were going, at least in Gieaun’s eyes.
“A skirt and blouse.”
Jahrra’s response was barely audible, but Gieaun heard her anyway and let out a squeal of delight.
Jahrra turned crimson as Gieaun pulled her into her room. Scede snickered after them, but just before Gieaun closed the door to the rest of the house, Jahrra turned and gave him a deadly glare. Scede stopped laughing immediately. The last thing he wanted was to suffer the wrath of his ill-tempered friend. Once in the other room, Gieaun helped Jahrra into her long skirt and blouse.
The Resai girl simply adored her friend’s outfit. “Oh, Jahrra! The skirt is so lovely, and the blouse too!”
The clothes had turned out quite nicely, Jahrra had to admit. The tailor must have sensed her distaste for too-feminine clothing from their few meetings, so he’d kept it simple. The long-sleeved blouse was a pale blue with a beautiful dark blue and silver embroidered pattern of oak branches and wild roses trailing around the collar, sleeve ends and hem.
The sleeves, although long, flared out at the ends so that her wrists wouldn’t feel constrained. The skirt, the same color as the dark blue thread in the embroidered pattern, was long and flowing with delicate plaiting. The hem ended in a flurry of small tassels that had silver beads sewn on them.
Hroombra also had the tailor fit her for a jacket of supple blue suede, stitched with a large leather thread and lined with soft wool. This jacket complemented her clothes quite well and matched her dress boots perfectly.
Of the entire outfit, Jahrra loved her boots the most. They were made of the same blue suede of her long coat and lined with the same wool for the winter cold, and although they had small heels on them, they were quite comfortable.
The jewelry that Jahrra picked out was a plain necklace made of blue glass and silver with matching earrings and a bracelet. Hroombra had pointed out some nicer pieces, but Jahrra insisted on the simpler ones, feeling that he’d already given her plenty for this accursed party.
Jahrra sighed as Gieaun pulled her over to the mirror so she could see what she looked like. Jahrra gawked when she saw the unfamiliar figure standing in front of her, a figure that looked so much like all of the rude girls in class.
Gieaun simply beamed at her. “Oh! You look so nice Jahrra! You should dress up more often!”
Jahrra blushed with embarrassment. She never dressed up and didn’t know how to take all of her friend’s compliments.
“Oh, let me do your hair too, will you?” Gieaun pleaded.
Gieaun pulled Jahrra’s hair up into a fancy half twist, braiding part of it into a tight rope that held up the rest. Gieaun was next to get into her dress, a lovely shimmery green material with a forest green, capped-sleeve velvet ves
t to match her eyes. She opted to pull half of her dark hair back in a ponytail, leaving the rest down. For shoes, Gieaun wore embroidered slippers that had green glass beads sewn onto them.
An hour later, the two girls came out of Gieaun’s room to meet Scede and their parents. Everyone was impressed by the girls’ appearance, especially by Jahrra’s.
“Why Jahrra, look at you!” Nuhra said cheerily.
Jahrra, unable to be rid of her blush, gave a weak smile and dropped her eyes to focus on her boots. A few minutes later Scede entered the common room where everybody stood. Jahrra raised her head just enough to see that her other friend had on a nice pair of pants, also green, but much darker than Gieaun’s vest. The tunic he wore was a light moss color, embroidered in emerald and gold and covered in emerald, copper and gold glass beads. He had his longish hair slicked back for the occasion. Jahrra resisted the urge to poke fun at him, knowing he would return the favor.
“Are you three ready?” Kaihmen asked enthusiastically.
“Yes,” they said simply and morosely, once again remembering exactly where they were going.
The instructions had been to meet at the schoolhouse one hour before midday. It was now three and a half hours to midday, so the three children and two adults piled into the family carriage and made their way towards Aldehren. On their way they stopped briefly at the Castle Guard Ruin to greet Hroombra.
“You all look so grown up, especially you, Jahrra. Remember your manners and try not to let the other children get to you.” Hroombra smiled at them as they headed down the drive to the main road.
The ride to Aldehren was much more pleasant in a carriage than on horseback, and along the way the children chatted about what their classmates might be wearing.
“I bet Eydeth’ll be wearing royal robes, and Ellysian’ll be wearing furs and a big frilly dress,” Scede commented boorishly, tucking his loose hair behind his slightly pointed ears.
The three friends laughed heartily at the thought of the “Royal” twins glaring down at everyone from their high perches.
As the carriage clattered into Aldehren, Jahrra, Gieaun and Scede stopped talking about their classmates and began imagining what the city of Kiniahn Kroi might look like.
“I hear they have houses made of silver and gold there!” Gieaun said.
“Yes, and they keep unicorns for pets!” Scede added in wide-eyed wonder.
Jahrra hoped very much that they did keep unicorns for pets; she’d never seen one before.
Aldehren was busy with all of the ongoing Solsticetide festivities, and it took Kaihmen longer than anticipated to maneuver the horses towards the schoolhouse. Finally, they reached the small grove of redwood trees and turned up the narrow road into the hidden gully. Jahrra breathed in the crisp air, shivering a little as she stuffed her hands into her jacket pockets. The schoolhouse and its surrounding yard were deserted, and Jahrra imagined the dull red building was a great wild creature, hiding from everything that was happening in Aldehren.
Jahrra released a great sigh into the cool air, hoping that they were too late and had missed their ride to the party. Ten minutes later, however, their classmates started trickling up the path in a variety of carriages. Jahrra swallowed her disappointment and she, Gieaun and Scede all gazed curiously at the other children stepping out of the coaches to gather on the school steps.
Jahrra stared in awe at the variety of costumes. The girls all wore dresses, much more sophisticated than her own skirt and blouse, in intricate patterns and designs. Glittering necklaces and earrings, most definitely not glass, hung from their ears, necks and gloved wrists and a few were wearing jackets lined with rare furs. It appeared as though everyone had their hair done up by a professional barber as well, and Jahrra felt a little self conscious with the simple style Gieaun had done for her. The boys looked just as impressive, their pants and shirts a little fancier than Scede’s.
Finally the twins arrived leading a wagon train that was made up of eight pristine white carriages, each pulled by a pair of matching snowy horses. Jahrra’s jaw dropped. She remembered the twins arriving in yellow carriages the first day of school and was impressed, but they had white ones as well? These new carriages were more embellished than the canary-hued coaches from before, and they all had garlands of holly branches and evergreen boughs hanging from them.
Jahrra blinked dazedly and turned her attention to the horses instead. They were the same horses from before and now that she was taking the time to get a good look at them, she realized they weren’t horses but semequins. Jahrra gulped. Four semequins for each carriage. She was flabbergasted. How rich were the twins’ parents?
She shook her head and tried to forget about Eydeth and Ellysian, returning her attention to the semequins. Their harnesses were red and had large silver bells sewn onto them, jingling cheerfully as the animals approached. Stiff men in ivory colored suits pulled heartily on bell-laden reins, bringing the carriage train to an elegant halt.
Jahrra was overwhelmed by the whole display. She suddenly felt as though she were wearing rags and as she shrank down in her seat, the door of the first carriage opened and out stepped the twins. They were both attired in shades of yellow, not far off from the description Scede had imagined.
Ellysian wore a full-skirted dress the color of butter. The sleeves were short and she donned white satin gloves that ended just below the puffed sleeves adorning her shoulders. The tiara perched in her ridiculously styled hair sparkled blindingly and her earrings and necklace glittered like crystal fire. A white fur shawl completed the ensemble and she stood, not surprisingly, with the air of a smug queen.
Her brother looked just as bad. Eydeth’s mustard colored pants, polished boots and embroidered dandelion silk jacket actually hurt Jahrra’s eyes. He looked like a giant banana slug. Looks like a banana slug? Jahrra thought with a smirk, he is a banana slug. The costumes would’ve been better in another color, but for some reason gold was obviously important to the two.
“Why do they always wear yellow?” Gieaun asked harshly, voicing Jahrra’s thoughts.
“Probably has to do with a stupid family crest or something,” Scede added bitterly.
“Hello everyone, I hope you’re all doing well this morning,” Ellysian said, even more pompously than when she’d invited them all to this ridiculous celebration. “You can get into the carriages now.”
And with that, Ellysian swept her gown up as gracefully as she could and her brother, who had followed her, helped her into the first carriage. Stuffed her, more like. Jahrra had to suppress a laugh as Eydeth abashedly jammed his sister’s billowing skirts through the carriage door.
Gieaun rolled her eyes and gave Jahrra and Scede a disgusted look.
“Well, I guess we’ll see you tomorrow morning then,” Kaihmen said to them.
Jahrra was sure she heard a hint of laughter in his voice, but she couldn’t say for sure.
Reluctantly, the three exited their wagon and swiftly made their way to the last carriage in the line, hoping that no one saw them. To their delight, everyone was crowded around the head of the wagon train trying to sit with Ellysian and Eydeth, but only the privileged few were granted the honor of sitting in the lead carriage. Gieaun, Scede and Jahrra breathed a sigh of relief when no one climbed into their cart.
“At least we’ll have some peace for now,” Scede commented.
Jahrra nodded her head in agreement, but still dreaded what would happen once they arrived in Kiniahn Kroi. She took a deep breath and felt her stomach lurch as their carriage jolted forward.
-Chapter Fourteen-
A Party, a Prank and a Near Death Experience
The caravan traveled at a steady pace, clattering down the smooth dirt road that wound through the wide, green Raenyan Valley. From an eagle’s point of view, Jahrra imagined the small train of carriages would look very much like eight glittering pearls strung out on a necklace. Unfortunately Jahrra, Gieaun and S
cede couldn’t appreciate such a sight; they were stuck in one of the giant gem-like coaches rocking gently towards what they were sure was going to be an unpleasant experience.
In order to blot out the horrible images of dancing around a crowded ballroom with their malicious classmates, Jahrra, Gieaun and Scede focused on the landscape as it passed by. Deep green hills and wild, rolling fields stood on either side of them.
Jahrra pushed open the window nearest to her side of the carriage and poked her nose out like a curious mouse. The outside air stung her face, but it smelled wonderfully of thawing frost and distant fire smoke. The clattering of wheels, the chucking of hooves and the puffing and snorting of the horses made any other natural sounds obsolete. Great clumps of deep green oak groves dotted the fallow fields like huge, hulking beasts curled up against the cold.
Jahrra shivered at the sight and frowned when she noticed the stark white trunks of birches and sycamores lining the great Raenyan River. They looked, she thought, like the skeletal remains of giants, standing on either side of the waterway in an endless faceoff. Jahrra sighed and closed her eyes, imagining the noise that such a great battle might create.
The three companions kept a tally of all the animals they saw along the way, ranging from cattle and horses to deer, foxes, and the birds visiting Oescienne for the winter. As the carriages veered north, Jahrra peered out of the window once again and noticed in the far distance a large stream diverging northwest from the Raenyan River. Half an hour later the carriages turned off along a road that followed the tributary.
“Oh! This must be Itah Creek!” Gieaun exclaimed, now leaning gingerly out of the open window. “Father told us it flows out of the north canyon of Kiniahn Kroi, and South Itah Creek flows out of the south canyon into Itah Creek. We must be close!”
Both Jahrra and Scede plastered themselves against the inside wall to get a better look. A few minutes later their coach abruptly headed west and soon they came upon yet another waterway. Jahrra looked out the window once more and her jaw dropped in awe. Ahead of them lay a great stone bridge constructed from smooth, light blue-grey cubes of granite.
The structure was the most beautiful thing she’d ever seen, broad and strong and ornamented with carved stone pillars. Evergreen wreathes and brilliant red ribbons hung in garlands along the railing and two enormous wreaths crafted of the same evergreens bedecked the two tallest pillars at the bridge’s entrance. It looked like a frozen fortress guarding the enchanted land of winter.
“This is the south fork of Itah Creek,” Gieaun said knowledgeably.
As they crossed the creek, Jahrra’s eyes widened even further. Ahead there lay something even more wonderful than the granite bridge spanning the stream. A great, beautiful city made entirely of polished stone in every color imaginable towered into view.
The carriage train moved smoothly down the main street of Kiniahn Kroi and immediately became surrounded by an assortment of sights, sounds and smells. Manicured yards and tall gleaming houses of stone flashed by, their small gardens kept tidy and contained by strong iron fences. Every shrub and plant was kept in top shape and every door was ornately carved and painted in rich ocean blues, brick reds, and blazing whites.
All of the houses were at least two or three stories high with a neat stone path leading to the front door; in every entryway hung beautiful oil lamps made of pale green glass. The streets were lined with ancient sycamores, lamps similar to those in the doorways hanging from their bare branches or perched upon lampposts on every street corner.
Everywhere the children looked, they saw the signs of the season. Bows and ribbons of silver and gold, bright red berries, rich green holly and branches of evergreen garnished the elaborate fences and lampposts of the massive labyrinthine town.
Along the way, the carriages passed many public gardens, large and small, their lily ponds now black and empty of life during these cold months. Everything looked very clean and Jahrra imagined that gnomes and fairies flitted and dashed around after dark to keep the streets and sidewalks immaculate.
If Jahrra hadn’t known any better, she would’ve thought the entire city was enchanted. She closed her eyes and tried to imagine what those strange lamps would look like when lit at twilight. A smile crossed her lips as she pictured a thousand lanterns, emitting a soft green glow as noble couples strolled through the parks during a warm summer evening.
Jahrra inhaled deeply, the cold air reminding her summer was still far away, and realized this city wasn’t filled with the unpleasant smells she usually recognized in the other towns of Oescienne. The air here was pungent with frost and the faint, clean odor of berries and apples, all infused with the deep, cool aroma of damp, mossy granite. In the distance she heard an orchestra playing a familiar Solstice song enhanced by the constant light jingle of bells.
Kiniahn Kroi was quieter than Aldehren, if a bustling city could be quiet. There was definitely something different about the noises here. People didn’t shout across the street at one another and those driving horses didn’t whistle, but seemed almost to lead the animals with their minds. Jahrra thought it was all very strange, but sat back and enjoyed the passing scenery anyway.
They passed fancy restaurants stuffed with well-dressed patrons, a clothing store selling nothing but silks and lace, and even a building with a sign that read Hot Springs. Wow, wouldn’t that be nice! Jahrra thought, imagining hot water coming out of the ground and collecting into a deep, steaming pool. What she and her friends didn’t see however, were livery stables, butchers’ shops or smithies. Jahrra decided that such noisy and smelly places would not be acceptable within Kiniahn Kroi’s boundaries.
The people here were different, too. Finely dressed men and women ambled down the wide sidewalks, rode fine semequins, passed by in expensive buggies or shopped for gifts while enjoying the crisp air. One woman, weighed down by yards of rich ruby skirts and topped with a ridiculous feathered hat, had a small covey of servants trailing after her, each one trying hard not to drop the mountain of packages they carried as she barked out orders. Jahrra imagined each of these decorated people had at least one relative who lived in a palace somewhere and wondered if any of them might be related to Eydeth and Ellysian.
Once through the main part of town, the caravan headed farther north along a wide cobblestone road that began to turn west. Jahrra stuck her head through the window and noticed, behind the screen of bald sycamores and birches, another arm of tall hills looming up ahead.
“Those hills split the two canyons,” Gieaun explained. “And I think we’re headed for the north canyon. It’s where the richer people live,” she continued with a slightly sour face.
Jahrra couldn’t begin to imagine what the richer part of town might look like.
“Kiniahn Kroi is built right up against the tip of that range, placed directly between the two canyons,” Scede added, seeing Jahrra’s somewhat puzzled look.
The cobbled road followed Itah Creek around the hills and continued westward. Jahrra gaped at the huge mansions nestled against the wooded hillside, and as the white carriage train moved farther up the canyon, the houses gradually became larger and more ornate. Many of them were built right up into the side of the hills, making Jahrra wonder if there might be an entire second set of rooms reaching deep inside the heart of the earth.
About thirty minutes after the wagons entered the canyon, the beautiful houses suddenly ceased and the caravan passed through a massive gate. Jahrra leaned out of the window once again and glanced at the buggies ahead of their own.
They were now traveling up a long cobbled road lined with evenly manicured holly bushes, all of which were adorned with bright red berries and glossy white and green leaves. The western-most tip of the canyon was draped in shade by the tall hills and the winter air here stayed hidden from the sun, remaining cold and unmoving. The world seemed frozen and secluded here and Jahrra sunk back into her seat, feeling like she was intruding in a land
where she wasn’t welcome.
The wagon train clattered along steadily for what seemed like hours until finally Jahrra, Gieaun and Scede felt their comfortable carriage slow to a halt.
The three friends stood up and peered shyly through the window on one side of their coach. At the end of the long drive there stood the most beautiful house Jahrra had ever seen. The drive circled around a great fountain and two massive, arching staircases led up to the second story.
The mansion itself was four stories tall and was built close to the eastern curve of the canyon’s end. Jahrra blinked as she registered the color of the great stone house. It was a deep butter color, with a dark goldenrod tile roof speckled with moss and lichen. She’d always loved yellow, but now she wondered if she would ever consider it a happy color again.
The eight carriages all came to a crunching stop over the gravel drive and several men and women dressed in clean but simple uniforms came rushing out to help the children into the main house. Jahrra suddenly felt very nervous and glanced warily at her two friends, both donning a bewildered look. They purposely waited for all of their other classmates to line up behind the twins and proceed, entranced as they were, up the side staircase and into the main entrance hall. The awkward trio joined in at the back of the group, keeping their distance and hoping that the other children would be too hypnotized by their surroundings to notice the Nesnan and her traitorous friends.
As soon as they entered the huge, heavy double oak doors (opened by servants of course), the children were engulfed in a wave of color, sound and movement. Elegant and beautiful women were gathered in circles or sitting on overstuffed couches chattering away like hens. Some dashed across the room several times, whispering secrets to their friends only to burst into red-faced giggling when listening to the reply.
The men, smoking pipes and dressed in the most ornate clothing Jahrra had ever seen, didn’t even notice the children come in. She found it peculiar that the men stood around talking openly to one another in the middle of the room while the women took a much more secretive approach to their style of conversation.
“I wonder if they’re supposed to do that,” Gieaun whispered once Jahrra pointed the strange scene out to her.
Nevertheless, the fancy patrons seemed to be enjoying themselves, eating refreshments and drinking what Jahrra could only guess was sparkling wine. The aromatic buzz of conversation was only interrupted by the light, cheery music floating in from another room.
Jahrra pulled her attention away from the busy environment and looked more closely at her surroundings. It was a large space, complete with a vaulted ceiling and a half-moon staircase leading to the upper levels of the house. The interior of the mansion was tiled with white marble, and many fine paintings and tapestries hung in the great hall, their rich blues, greens, reds, oranges and blacks contrasting with the pale lemon walls. The windows were beautiful as well; thousands of small diamond shaped panes, glittering like rough sheets of ice in the afternoon light, filled the space above the stairs from ceiling to floor.
The ceiling itself was exquisite, complete with an enormous crystal chandelier hanging from its center. Jahrra wondered quietly if the castle on the Sloping Hill had once looked like this so many centuries ago. She craned her neck to see the entirety of the amazing, high-domed ceiling. A mural told a story with the characters boldly painted, but before she could discern what the tale was about she felt a tug at her arm. It was Gieaun and she was pointing over to where the left wing of the crescent staircase began.
Ellysian stood there with all of their classmates gathered around her. Jahrra grimaced as the girl shouted over the din.
“Now, you all must come see mine and Eydeth’s rooms. We have the finest bedding and furniture father could find.”
She said something more, but Jahrra made no effort to listen. The last thing she wanted to do was see the twins’ rooms. Gieaun and Scede agreed with her, and they decided to head in the opposite direction towards a glass door next to the other side of the staircase that opened out onto a nice shaded terrace. The three friends wove their way through the boisterous crowd, not worried about alarming the adults who were too intent on their noisy gossip to notice three wayward children.
They stepped out onto the stone terrace and saw that it was really a raised patio with the creek flowing below it. The patio cut into the side of the rocky wall of the canyon, creating a small, protected grotto. Several chairs and a heavy stone table stood within the small alcove, and feathery ferns and other shade-loving plants added an extra soft, delicate touch.
A carved marble railing enclosed the patio, and marble benches and statues stood in perfect harmony with the many curves and turns of the terrace. Jahrra, Gieaun and Scede took a seat on one of the benches facing into the canyon. Once settled, Jahrra breathed in the fresh air and plucked lightly at her skirt, grateful to be away from the stuffy drove of people inside.
“Well,” Scede breathed, tugging on the sleeves of his tunic to mimic Jahrra, “if we stay out of the way, we may just survive tonight.”
Gieaun and Jahrra nodded in agreement. Jahrra sighed deeply then glanced towards the western edge of the courtyard, only to notice a simple staircase leading down to a path running above the creek. It was a narrow path and it trailed away behind a curve in the canyon’s wall. She immediately got up and headed towards it.
“Where are you going?” asked Gieaun with a perplexed look on her face.
“There’s a path down there. Come on, let’s follow it. We’ll definitely be out of everyone’s way if we do.”
Gieaun and Scede gladly followed Jahrra, hoping the adults really hadn’t noticed them before.
The pre-occupied Resai men and women may not have noticed the Nesnan girl and her two Resai friends, but Eydeth had. As they made their way up the narrow path, Eydeth watched them from the tall window at the top of the stairs.
He’d lingered behind as his sister led their classmates to her room. He’d been on his way up behind his classmates, but something had flittered in the corner of his eye, and when he turned to see what it had been, he caught sight of Jahrra, Gieaun and Scede wandering off onto the terrace. A cold smile crossed his lips and as he watched them disappear farther into the canyon, he thought of a way to humiliate Jahrra once again.
The Legend of Oescienne - The Finding (Book One) Page 7
