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

  Denaeh shivered, the acrid horror and shock returning to rattle her nerves even more. The words she had spoken to King Dhuruhn had been haunting her ever since leaving Nimbronia: The only one I never see standing among those who remain in the end is the dragon Raejaaxorix.

  The Mystic bit down against the scream that crept up her throat. Gods and goddesses of Ethoes, did it have to come to this? Had the world not sacrificed enough? Had the Tanaan dragon not sacrificed enough? Why must it cost him his life? The days following her retreat from Nimbronia, Denaeh had mustered what little power she’d regained since bringing a mountainside down upon the Tyrant’s men to push her magical perception to its limits. No matter how hard she tried, though, she received nothing that might suggest her original vision was wrong, or misinterpreted. Or, that perhaps, something had happened to alter the course of the future. Sometimes her most steadfast revelations changed a little, but those instances had been rare. And then, she had to consider the blatant fact that any action taken to prevent Jaax’s demise might also prevent those other parts of her vision, the ones that must occur, from happening. It still didn’t lessen the overbearing regret she felt at knowing the Tanaan dragon’s fate.

  “This was never meant to happen to you, Jaax,” she gritted out to the elements. “It was my duty to find a way to fix this mess.”

  A wretched caw pealed out from somewhere far above, echoing through the canyon and bouncing off the wind-scraped rocks.

  For a moment, Denaeh’s biting worry melted away, and she cast her eyes upward. A sleek, dark blue shape cast off from a solitary crag and passed beneath the sun. The woman squinted, the korehv’s shadow offering only a momentary flicker of shadow. As the bird closed in for a clumsy landing, something a little larger than an acorn wedged within its bill flashed and glittered in the sunlight.

  Denaeh released a soft gasp when she recognized the object. Milihn had brought her a mage diamond. Naturally multi-faceted, mage diamonds were rare and found only in the deepest part of the heart of the Hrunahn Mountains, and even rarer still in their special properties of replenishing magical stores within living things. Where on Ethoes did her korehv discover such a thing? The bird fluffed his iridescent feathers, the stone glittering between his broad beak. Opaque at its center, the diamond became clearer closer to the surface, and when the sun reflected off its many sides, pearlescent pink, sea green, soft lavender, and aquamarine flared to life like living fire as it responded to the well of power within her soul. For a few moments, Denaeh’s burden seemed less heavy.

  Milihn grumbled contentedly and hopped over to his master, dropping the gem in her palm and regarding her with doleful eyes.

  “This treasure deserves an equal reward,” she managed, her voice soft. Her mind no longer tormented by her Vision.

  The Mystic flipped her cloak aside and dug around in her pack, pulling out the largest piece of dried meat within. Milihn became animated with excitement, hopping around and emitting impatient croaks. Denaeh smiled as the bird took the treat and placed it between his feet, continuing his contented cackling as he began stripping away bits of meat with his beak.

  While Milihn ate, his master found a boulder to sit upon as she stared at the stone in her hand. A mage diamond. She had only ever seen a few in her life, all set in the crowns and jewelry of royalty with magical tendencies. The one her korehv had delivered was a good size and had to be worth a small fortune.

  For some reason, the diamond made her think of the spirit stone ring resting against her heart. She lifted her free hand and pressed her palm to her chest, the ring now a familiar lump beneath her bodice. Memories flooded her thoughts, some happy, some regretful. But bitterness was what gnawed at her stomach now, mingling with the lingering sorrow from only moments ago. Denaeh closed her eyes and cast her mind outward, not pushing with magic this time. Just letting it wander of its own accord. Unfortunately, it decided to wander into the part of her past that brought her the most pain.

  A beautiful castle, a handsome prince, a steadfast friend, a young heart tugged in two different directions. In the end, giving in to power and the chance for a very comfortable life had been too tempting to resist.

  Denaeh’s eyes snapped open, and she frowned, her heart beating faster, her breath quickening. Her fingers curled tightly around the mage diamond, and she added pressure to the palm placed against her chest, the effort causing the hidden ring to dig into her skin. She had thought she’d made the right choice. How wrong she had been. It hadn’t been love, only foolish infatuation. A naive woman’s blind devotion to what she had thought was every girls’ dream.

  “And you don’t even have the excuse of being all that young at the time,” she reminded herself.

  When she had abandoned true love for perceived security, she had already lived her long life and died. She’d completed the training and rituals required of candidates wishing to become Mystics. She had suffered through her mortality, as all potential Mystics are required to do. And when that mortal life came to an end, she had passed through the gates of the afterlife, only to turn around and walk back to that frail, wrinkled body. The magic of her mentor had called her back. His magic and his voice. She had trusted him her entire life. Relied upon him to get her through the long process and bring her back in the end. He had done so, and she had abandoned him for another.

  “But,” she whispered, her words lost to the wind, “my heart has never grown cold with regards to you. My love has not dimmed, even after all these years. Even knowing you are forever lost to me.”

  Milihn’s sharp caw snapped Denaeh out of her reverie. She blinked her eyes many times, the memories, and what must have been lingering tears, fading away.

  “You are right, my friend,” she said with a watery smile. “We cannot change the past, and although part of the future is already known, we can still make the best of our lives in the present.”

  Denaeh rose from where she sat, sent out her magical senses once more to track Jahrra, then picked up her walking stick and threw her scarlet hood back over her head.

  “They’ll make camp soon, Milihn. Best we do the same.”

  The korehv only fluffed his feathers before taking to the air and flying ahead of her. Eventually, she would have to join Jahrra and her companions, but for now, she would enjoy her solitude and use it to plan as the final confrontation against Ciarrohn drew ever nearer.

  * * *

  For four days, Ellyesce led Jahrra, Dervit, and Jaax around the hills of Ghellna and past the northern arm of Lake Hronah. They were making excellent time, and would have reached the Kourhiont Mountains by the end of the fifth day if a sudden storm, thrown up by the frigid waters of the Great Yddian Channel, hadn’t slowed them down. For half a day, they trudged through the icy rain and unrelenting winds until Jaax spotted an abandoned farm just off the main road.

  “Part of the barn roof looks to have suffered from fire damage, but it is large enough for all of us to shelter in until the brunt of the storm passes,” he growled after returning from his habit of scouting ahead.

  “Good,” Jahrra grumbled, tucking her cloak more tightly about her. It kept most of the rain off, but she knew Dervit and the horses must be freezing, and her fingers had gone numb, despite her gloves.

  A mile more of fighting against the driving wind and rain and the ruined farmhouse and decrepit barn emerged from the gloom. Jaax had been right. The barn offered plenty of room, and although it smelled slightly of mildew, the interior was relatively dry. Dervit and Ellyesce worked to start a fire as she tended to the horses.

  “Why do you think no one lives here any longer?” she asked Jaax, as they came to stand around the new fire. Jahrra held out her numb fingers and sighed in bliss as warmth returned to them.

  Jaax let out a low breath and said, “We are not too far from Ghorium now. Perhaps a week’s journey through the mountains. On the other side of the channel lies the land of the Tyrant. I wouldn’t be surprised if this small patch of Felldreim has been visited
by Morli dragons eager to stretch their wings, looking for easy prey.”

  Jahrra shuddered at the thought, but the evidence of a dragon attack was clear. The farm house was nothing but charred logs, and the barn roof had been burned by something. Before she could press her guardian for further details, Jaax turned and strode back toward the open end of the building.

  “Where are you going?” Jahrra called after him.

  “I’m going to survey the area one more time before nightfall. I want to make sure it’s absolutely safe to stay here.”

  “Can’t Ellyesce use his magic?” she countered.

  The elf looked up and arched a brow. “My range can only reach so far, Jahrra. Jaax can explore farther out.”

  Jahrra gritted her teeth and sat heavily upon a log beside Dervit. The limbit had already pulled out dried vegetables and meat to make a stew.

  “I won’t be long,” Jaax promised, stepping out into the sleet and throwing his wings wide before letting the howling wind lift him into the gray sky.

  Jahrra sighed and busied herself with helping Dervit and Ellyesce prepare the meal. As the stew bubbled in the small cauldron over the fire, she turned her attention to the horses, checking to see if they were warm enough or if they needed any extra oats. She paced the large space of the barn, kicking over rusted farm equipment and peeking through the gaps in the stone walls. Doing anything to occupy her mind. Jaax had been gone for over an hour now, and she was starting to wonder, to worry, if he’d run into any trouble, especially after his comments about Morli dragons and being only days away from the Ghorium border.

  “Relax, Jahrra,” Ellyesce called from his seat before the fire.

  She cast him a glance over her shoulder. He had gathered together some rickety sawhorses and planks of wood to fashion a table of sorts. Dervit sat across from him, his furred hands grasping a fan of Astral cards.

  “Jaax is a Tanaan warrior,” the elf continued when Jahrra remained silent. “He has been taking part in espionage missions for decades now. A simple scouting flight won’t bring him harm.”

  Not reassured by Ellyesce’s words, Jahrra jabbed the tip of her thumb into her mouth and proceeded to chew off part of the nail.

  “You don’t know that for sure,” she groused before resuming her pacing. “You could at least use some of your magic to see if he’s nearby instead of playing Astral cards as if this is some leisurely camping trip turned foul by the inconvenient storm.”

  Ellyesce set his cards facedown and arched a brow at Dervit. The limbit only shrugged.

  “Can you blame her for worrying?” he whispered, loud enough only for Ellyesce to hear.

  Ellyesce sighed and nodded grimly, letting Jahrra’s snappish response pass unanswered. He knew what it was to worry after loved ones, and how that worry could claw at you until you reacted like a wounded animal. He would not hold Jahrra’s current mood against her.

  The heavy whoosh of wings ten minutes later had Jahrra racing for the large gap in the barn’s front wall. As the green dragon stepped beneath the vaulted roof, rain sluicing down his back and dripping from the tips of his wings, Jahrra stepped aside to give him room.

  “Well?” she prompted, before he could even find a place to lie down and rest. “Any activity from the enemy we should be concerned about?”

  Jaax cut her a look that held both exasperation and weariness. He already appeared irritated from his damp, semi-frozen state, and his usually sharpened focus had lost some of its edge. The dragon let his eyes drift shut as he took a long, weary breath through his nose.

  “No,” he finally said, shaking his head a little. “At least, nothing to be immediately concerned about.”

  “What do you mean, nothing to be immediately concerned about?” Jahrra pressed.

  Jaax regarded her with an expression she couldn’t quite read, then shrugged. “I made a ten-mile circle around this spot and noticed no campfires. We are safe for the time being.”

  Jahrra accepted his answer, though his tone, or something in his eyes informed her there was more he wasn’t telling her. Telling them.

  Just be glad he’s back and safe, she told herself as they sat down to eat the stew. Jaax had found a herd of tebbor – a rather large hoofed mammal common to Felldreim – while he was out, so he declined an offer of food. Soon, everyone was full and drowsing. Dervit, as usual, was the first to slip off to sleep. Jahrra followed him, but only after several minutes of turning restlessly beneath her blankets. Jaax kept a diligent watch on her, waiting to make sure she had drifted into deep sleep before speaking with Ellyesce.

  Before he could piece together his thoughts, however, the elf murmured, “Out with it. You’ve not relaxed a single toenail since returning. Jahrra you may be able to fool, but not me.” Bright green eyes, reflecting the flickering orange firelight, met the dragon’s. “I’ve known you too long, my old friend.”

  Jaax snorted softly and settled more comfortably by the fire, making sure not to sit too close to his smaller companions.

  “I told Jahrra the truth. I spotted no campfires, but there is a strange uneasiness permeating throughout the land. As if Ethoes herself knows this war is upon us. I don’t feel safe leading Jahrra to Dhonoara.”

  Those last words came out as a whisper, and Ellyesce tensed as he moved to toss another log on the fire. He angled his head toward the Tanaan dragon.

  “What do you mean?” he asked carefully.

  Jaax breathed out a long breath. “What I mean is the Tyrant and his spies know Jahrra travels with a dragon and an elf. They will be looking for us, and I don’t believe every single one of them is traveling south of the Kourhiont Mountains. At least, if they are sending out scouts as well, I will be easy to spot.”

  The truth dawned on Ellyesce in the next heartbeat. “You mean to go on to Dhonoara alone. To travel the path the enemy travels so they will believe we - me, Jahrra, and Dervit - travel that road as well.”

  Jaax nodded, his teeth pressed tightly together.

  Ellyesce grumbled something incoherent and leaned against the log he’d been using as a chair. He crossed his arms over his chest and regarded the fire. “Jahrra won’t like it.”

  This time, Jaax huffed a small laugh, some humor returning to his shadowed eyes. “When has Jahrra ever liked anything I propose?”

  Ellyesce couldn’t stop his own smile. “True. But do you really think that’s the best plan of action? Logically, it makes sense. The previous attacks on Jahrra were nearly successful, so the Tyrant’s men will assume you plan on sticking close. If I were their commander, I would draw the same conclusion.”

  Jaax’s light mood fled as he dug his talons into the earth.

  “Yes. That I, not in a hundred years, would ever keep Jahrra from my immediate sight,” he agreed. “That’s what I’m counting on. Trust me, Ellyesce, the very last thing I want to do is leave you to reach Dhonoara on your own. It makes the skin beneath my scales crawl just thinking of parting from her, from you all, at this point. But if I can keep the Tyrant and his spies thinking Jahrra is traveling along the southern edge of Ghorium’s border, then perhaps, it will draw their scouts away from the northern side of the mountains. If a week or so of dodging their arrows and spears means getting you to Dhonoara safely, then I’ll gladly do it.”

  “Very well,” Ellyesce finally conceded. “If we are lucky, your ruse will draw all our enemies off, and we might even make it to Dhonoara in less than a week’s time. But you will be the one to tell Jahrra.”

  Jaax gave a mock shudder. “I was afraid you would say that.”

  And with that sentiment, both Jaax and Ellyesce settled in for the night as sleet and hail continued to patter against the roof of the barn, coating the world in ice.

  The next morning dawned cold but mostly clear. Ashy clouds still scudded along the horizon, but a blue sky free of wind made for a pleasant beginning for the next leg of their journey. Jahrra knew right away that something was weighing on Jaax’s mind, the same something she dete
cted the night before, she decided. Once the party was packed and done with their simple breakfast, Jahrra and Ellyesce led their semequins and Rumble out to the frost-encrusted road. Dervit sat atop the draft horse, wrapped in layers of blankets to fight off the chill.

  When Jaax stepped from the barn but didn’t move to follow them, Jahrra cast him a quizzical look. With a grim expression on his face, Jaax instructed Ellyesce to lead Gliriant and Rumble onward and that Jahrra would catch up to them.

  Stiffening at her guardian’s words, and the dismal tone of his voice, Jahrra wheeled around to face him. She heard Ellyesce murmur to his semequin, their footfalls cracking against the patches of ice spotting the road.

  Jaax took a few steps to reach his ward, then leveled his gaze on her, those silver-green eyes of his somewhat pained but unyielding. Jahrra felt her stomach tighten. She knew that look. He was about to say something unpleasant; something he expected her to fight him about. Jahrra braced herself.

  “I will not be traveling with you for the final portion of this journey. You, Ellyesce, and Dervit must go on to Dhonoara without me.”

  All the air rushed from Jahrra’s lungs. When she found her breath again, she croaked, “What?”

  Jaax dropped to his haunches and drew in a deep breath. When he released it, gray smoke very much like the shreds of clouds straying across the sky filtered through his nose.

  “I am going to continue on to the valley of the elves on the southern side of the Kourhiont Mountains. I’m afraid the Tyrant will deploy spies along your path, but if they see me from time to time moving east, they will believe you are with me.”

  “Jaax! No!” she hissed, her teeth bared. “I won’t allow it.”