The Legend of Oescienne--The Reckoning (Book Five) Read online

  Overwhelmed by the beauty of this sudden plunge into a spring paradise, Jahrra turned in Phrym’s saddle to check on her other companions. Dervit appeared as awestruck as Jahrra felt, his pointed ears swiveling as his head jerked from side to side. Behind him, Jaax trailed several feet back. He had circled around after they first stepped foot into the woods and landed behind them, the cover of the trees hindering his task of keeping a lookout for potential threats. Now, he cast his keen eyes wide, the always-vigilant Tanaan dragon on high alert, waiting for an ambush with every step they took. Jahrra couldn’t quite blame him, though. Twice now, since leaving Lidien, they had been surprised by the Tyrant’s soldiers. There was a good chance it could happen again. Jahrra bit her lip and whipped back around, determined not to think about it. Jaax was plenty paranoid for the lot of them, and with him so close by, she could afford the luxury of enjoying herself for the time being.

  For a few more hours, the four of them traveled in relative silence, Ellyesce bringing them to a stop every so often, to test their surroundings with his magic, Jahrra assumed. She had grown so used to this technique that she didn’t need to ask him what he was doing anymore. As the shadows of the forest grew deeper and the end of the day drew near, Jaax located a wide gully where they could rest for the night.

  “It should be safe for a fire,” Ellyesce announced after using his unique talent to check for danger once more.

  “Good!” Dervit proclaimed, plopping down upon a moss-covered rock. “I could really use a hot meal.”

  Jahrra arched a brow at him. Ever since leaving the mountains behind, the entire party had gradually let go of the tension keeping them all wound so tight. In fact, Jahrra was certain Dervit had said more words over the past day traversing the forest than he had the entire time it had taken them to climb down from the higher Hrunahn peaks. The thought made her smile. It was good to have Dervit back to his more gregarious self. His high spirits only helped soothe hers.

  “We don’t have much by way of fine cuisine,” she mused, digging through Phrym’s saddle bags to produce several pouches of dry goods, many of which would not heat well. “We could have some oatmeal, I suppose.”

  Dervit leapt from Rumble’s mound of travel bags and said, “There is a rather large creek not too far away with several places for water to pool.” He grinned at his comrades, and gave Jaax an especially prideful smirk. “I would be happy to go fishing again.”

  The dragon only returned the expression. However, it wasn’t disdain in his eyes this time, but a bit of chastened pride instead. He’d learned his lesson on their trek to Cahrdyarein not to underestimate the varied talents of their limbit companion.

  “I think Jahrra and Ellyesce would appreciate that,” Jaax said with a slight nod of his head.

  “I’ll go with you!” Jahrra offered, eager to explore this wonderful new part of Ethoes.

  This announcement had the Tanaan dragon going tense once more, but when Ellyesce gave an easy tilt of his head, Jaax breathed out a small gust of breath and settled back down.

  “Very well, but don’t wander too far down stream. I want you both within hearing range.”

  Jahrra gathered up some spare string and a lantern, and the two friends darted off into the undergrowth in the direction of the creek.

  When Jaax was sure they were out of earshot, he turned to face Ellyesce. The elf squatted on the ground, placing stones in a ring to form a fire pit. The dragon had been keeping a close eye on his old friend since entering the forest. Jahrra and Dervit wouldn’t notice it for what it was, but Jaax recognized the slight tightness around Ellyesce’s eyes and mouth, and the lingering silence that had been forgotten by the others as they ventured deeper into the wood. No change from his demeanor since leaving Nimbronia, but that was the point. The cover of thick, wild forest should have been a welcoming embrace. Instead, it only churned up more possible danger for the elf. Well, not danger, really, but unease.

  “You worry what will happen when we meet up with the Hrunahn elves,” Jaax murmured finally.

  He sat at the far end of the clearing, his back facing the deeper part of the forest. They were in no danger here, so Jaax stretched out like a great dog, forearms placed before him, wings tucked in tight, tail curled around his massive body. Yet, only a fool would not consider the danger he still imposed.

  At first, Ellyesce didn’t seem to hear him. He settled the last stone in place and piled a collection of broken branches and dried leaves and grass in the center of the pit, then pulled out a dagger and a piece of flint. It took Ellyesce five attempts to get a flame going, all the while Jaax watched him, never offering to light the fire for him.

  Once the flames were crackling over the larger pieces of wood, Ellyesce leaned back against a large moss-covered tree that had fallen some years ago. He ran a hand through his long hair and sighed. Still, Jaax waited. When Ellyesce finally spoke, it was in the language very few remembered how to speak. A language they had once used the night Ellyesce returned to his old friend in Lidien.

  “Like you, they will be shocked to see me. And I have no idea what diplomacy is like now between the tribes of the forest and Dhonoara’s people.”

  “Your people, too,” Jaax pointed out, answering in the same ancient tongue.

  Ellyesce looked up at him, his eyes lost in sorrow, a frown pulling at his mouth. The elf looked tired, more so than Jaax had ever remembered seeing him.

  “Not anymore,” he whispered.

  Jaax shook his head, clenching his teeth a little. “If I can forgive you, then so can they. It has been a very long time, Ellyesce, and we have a chance to put things right for the first time in centuries. You cannot let old grudges prevent you from reforming ancient alliances, my friend. Time has a way of eroding even the worst of hurts.”

  Ellyesce dropped his head and picked up a stray stick. Almost absentmindedly, he began carving an image into the dark earth beside him.

  “Some injuries can never heal, Jaax. Some wounds cut us so deeply, to forgive and forget is impossible.”

  Jaax peered down at what his friend had drawn in the soil, his scaly brow furrowed. A symbol. A flower. The bloodrose of Ethoes and a pair of eyes. A woman’s eyes, he thought. Familiar, despite the rudimentary implements he had used to conjure them. Jaax let his own eyes drift shut, memories so old they seemed like images painted in a book, drifting through his mind like autumn leaves falling on a gentle wind. Yes, he understood Ellyesce’s sentiments, that some wounds might never heal. But that didn’t mean they couldn’t be cleansed through diplomacy and forgiveness.

  Drawing in a deep breath, Jaax continued, forgoing that archaic language this time, “Let us just take this journey one step at a time then, Ellyesce. When we encounter the elves, we will cross that bridge with caution and be ready if any trouble brews.”

  He stopped his sketching and tossed the stick into the fire before stretching out one leg to smear away the picture with the sole of his boot.

  “You do realize should they bring to light my past life, other secrets might come spilling out as well?”

  Jaax’s jaw tightened, so much so that his muscles ached. He did worry about that, and instinct told him such a possibility bothered Ellyesce more than the elf’s own grievances with the forest elves.

  “Like I said,” he replied gruffly, “we’ll cross that bridge when we get to it. And,” he added as the faint chatter of Jahrra and Dervit returning from their fishing expedition drew nearer, “there is still the vow you swore, my friend. So, perhaps, not all secrets will become forfeit before we reach Dhonoara.”

  Ellyesce glanced up at him, his green elvin eyes full of emotion, “Aye, my old friend, I know. I know.”

  -Chapter Three-

  The Elves of Hrunah

  A shard of morning light slicing through the treetops caused Jaax to stir early the next morning. Careful to remain still, he cracked an eye to survey his surroundings. The remains of a campfire smoked nearby, the ring of stone flanked on all sides b
y dark, immobile lumps. He counted one large and one small: Jahrra and Dervit. Ellyesce’s bedroll was empty, but the fact the blankets hadn’t been left in a haphazard pile suggested his friend was most likely off scouting for danger beyond that which the dragon could sense. Some of that ever-present tension clenching its great fist around his heart eased a little. His companions were safe. For now, at least. The ensuing silence of the morning might prove suspicious, but then a bird took wing from a branch above, chattering amiably as it sought a new location. Some more of that anxiety drained away.

  Lifting his head, Jaax eyed the dying fire, then conjured an emerald flame to get it started once again. As the fire danced, fading from green to orange, Ellyesce came silently strolling back into their campsite.

  Jaax flicked his eyes to the elf’s. “Do the Tyrant’s mages still lag behind us?”

  Ellyesce’s mouth tightened, and he lifted his hands to rub his face. “I believe so. I only performed a ten-mile radius search, and no malevolent magic appeared.”

  That was good news, but the elf’s tone didn’t reflect as much.

  Jaax’s nostrils flared as he scented the air. No scent of danger on the wind. That only meant one thing.

  “How close are the forest elves?”

  “Not too close,” Ellyesce admitted with a weary shrug. “And from what I can gather, it is a small force, maybe twenty or twenty-five strong, scouting along the boundaries of the heart of their city. We may cross paths with them around midday, and if they sensed my magic as I sensed theirs, I am almost sure they will lie in wait for us to determine whether or not we are a threat.”

  Groaning, Ellyesce lowered himself onto a smaller log resting against the larger trunk of the fallen tree. Jaax took note of his rumpled clothing. More likely than not, the elf had slept fully clothed, as he had been doing for the past week and a half. If they had to rise and run in the middle of the night, he wanted to be ready to do so. Fortunately, their journey from Nimbronia had been uneventful so far. With the inevitable encounter with the Hrunahn elves weighing on his mind, Ellyesce doubted their easy travels would soon be thwarted, at least for a short time, anyway.

  “Maybe if I make myself inconspicuous, they’ll let us pass without question,” he muttered, knowing full well the forest elves would hardly be able to uphold their reputation as Felldreim’s honored guardians if they didn’t regularly inspect parties traveling through the wilds.

  “Or perhaps,” Jaax drawled, standing and stretching out his wings and legs, “their questions won’t even apply to you. Like I said last night, let us worry about the elves when we meet them.”

  Ellyesce lifted a dark brow. “I wouldn’t worry about it at all if not for Jahrra.”

  Jaax’s emerald eyes flared briefly, his expression hardening a little. “She’ll find out who you truly are soon enough. If not today, then in a few weeks when we arrive in Dhonoara.”

  The elf shot the dragon an expression of irritation and took a breath to speak, but the muttered grumblings and shifting of Jahrra’s bedroll cut him short.

  “We can discuss this later,” Ellyesce growled, heading towards his saddlebags to fish out breakfast items.

  Jaax huffed a smoky breath, his mind churning. As much as he didn’t want to admit it, Ellyesce was right to be concerned. There were so many things Jahrra didn’t know; secrets he and his elvin friend purposely kept from her. The Tanaan dragon tilted his head and gazed down at the sleeping form of his ward.

  “Not to be cruel,” he muttered under his breath, “but to keep you from danger and pain for as long as possible.”

  Icicles prickled up Jaax’s spine, and his wings shuddered. Some deeply ingrained instinct told him the time he thought they still had was swiftly slipping away, like grains of sand through an hourglass. He allowed his eyelids to drift shut and drew in a deep breath of spring-scented air. When he opened his eyes again, Jaax discovered Jahrra blinking up at him.

  “What time is it?” she managed through a yawn.

  The dragon shook away the last remains of his scattered thoughts and smiled. “Just past sunrise. We have time to linger here for a bit before moving on.”

  “Good,” she said, falling back against her bedroll. “I think I’ll just lie here for a while.”

  “And make me do all the work?” Ellyesce asked in mock indignation as he carried a tea kettle, small cauldron, and a few cloth sacks filled with dry oatmeal, nuts, and cinnamon towards the fire. Over his shoulder, a few small water skins and a jar of honey hung at the end of a rope.

  Grumbling in mild irritation, Jahrra threw back her cloak and sat up. Catching a few more minutes of sleep would be divine, but Ellyesce had been fixing breakfast mostly on his own for the past several days. The least she could do was fetch more water from the nearby stream or tend to the horses while the pot boiled.

  Soon after the kettle and the cauldron were placed over the fire, the oatmeal on its way to heating, Dervit rose and offered to help Jahrra fetch more water. While they were gone, Jaax settled closer to Ellyesce. For several moments, the two of them simply watched the fire and listened to the rustle of small animals and birds as they searched for their own morning meals.

  Before Ellyesce could rekindle their earlier conversation, Jaax asked, “Do you think King Vandrian has received our message yet?”

  The elf lifted the lid of the cauldron and stirred the oats to keep them from burning. He took his time resettling the lid, his lips pursed in thought.

  “The message calling all Coalition members to ready themselves for war?” He shrugged and continued, “It was sent ages ago, so as long as our messengers were not intercepted, he should have received it. And I know what you are worrying about,” he added, leaning back against the fallen tree trunk. “Vandrian is not Dhuruhn. He lives on the southern edge of Ghorium and knows what the Tyrant is capable of, what he has already done to destroy our world. He will have dispatched his own riders by now to call upon all the free people still living in the south of Ghorium and the northern rim of Terre Moeserre. We can count on the king of Dhonoara to ready our army to fight.”

  “I only hope we have enough allies left to stand a chance,” Jaax murmured, almost to himself.

  He didn’t realize he’d been digging his claws into the earth like a cat until Ellyesce placed a hand against his scaled forearm.

  “We will defeat Cierryon, and send Ciarrohn back to the black nothingness, Jaax. You must have faith in that.”

  Jaax willed himself to relax, but the moment he caught sight of Jahrra returning with Dervit, that ever-present apprehension spiked once more. He watched her as she walked, a smile on her lips and laughter in her eyes, reacting to something amusing her small friend had said. But he knew her so well, so much so that he saw past that mask she wore when she knew others might be studying her face. He knew that worry ate away at her like rust, just as it worked to erode his own resolve. Jaax’s jaw clenched. He did not fear for himself, he had lived too long and seen too much in this world to let death scare him. He did worry for her, though, and he would gladly give up his existence if it meant Jahrra would face down the Crimson King, defeat him, and live the rest of her life in peace.

  “Be careful, my friend,” Ellyesce whispered, as the limbit and young woman drew ever closer. “Don’t let her see the depths of your concern, for she worries after you just as much as you worry after her.”

  There was no time for Jaax to respond, only to take his friend’s words to heart and force that soul-deep terror back into the dark where it belonged. Ellyesce was right. He had to be strong, he had to remain brave for Jahrra’s sake, or she might never find the strength to fulfill the fate that awaited her.

  Thirty minutes after Jahrra and Dervit returned with the water from the stream, the small party was on the move once again, guiding their horses down the wide road they’d been following the day before. The air remained cool for most of the morning, but that did not discourage the forest’s denizens from venturing forth from their dens and
perches. Birds were busy building nests, flowers poked their tightly closed buds between new, green stems and leaves, and the sun shone warmly through the crisscrossing branches of the mixed evergreen and deciduous canopy far above.

  Jahrra turned her face upward, letting the warmth bathe her skin and breathed in the sharp scent of fresh pine sap suffusing the air. She loved the autumn months best of all, but there was something about the newness of spring that lifted her spirits as well. Perhaps it was the promise of life returning to the world, whether that life be renewed through the awakening of dormant trees and animals or the new creatures brought into the world through bonds formed before winter set in. Either way, it helped ease her heart a little and gave her hope. No matter what happened, life, in some sense, would find a way to regenerate itself. Perhaps she could use that thought in the coming days and weeks to give her courage as she drew ever closer to the future awaiting her in Dhonoara and beyond.

  The almost inaudible crackle of a soft sole treading over brittle twigs snapped Jahrra’s attention away from her moment of peace. Her head jerked down, and her fingers tightened on Phrym’s reins. The semequin tensed beneath her, uttering a low nicker as his ears swiveled, and his nostrils flared.