The Ascending Read online

  “Enough of that now,” Ellyesce said softly, giving the limbit a slight shake.

  “I won’t hurt you,” Jahrra said in the calmest voice she could muster. “I promise. None of us will hurt you.”

  “The dragon!” the limbit squeaked.

  Jahrra stood up and cast her guardian a stern look over her shoulder. Jaax rolled his eyes and gritted his teeth before saying, “Be calm, limbit. Fortunately, Jahrra here seems to be on your side, and risking her ire is worse than risking mine. You may speak freely without fearing incineration.”

  “Jaax!” Jahrra snapped, shooting him another look of grave disapproval.

  The dragon only shrugged his great shoulders, his mouth forming a stern line but his eyes glimmering with dark humor.

  “Ignore him,” Jahrra said, turning back to the limbit.

  “I’ll let you go if you promise not to bolt,” Ellyesce stated.

  “Yes, please don’t run off again,” Jahrra added. “I’m Jahrra, by the way. The elf who is keeping you in our presence is Ellyesce, and the grumpy dragon is Jaax.”

  Jaax snorted, but kept his remarks to himself.

  The limbit, who had remained in his defensive position, carefully unfolded and regarded Jahrra. He didn’t look very old, maybe around her age or a bit older, and his hair appeared closer in color to his fur than what she’d previously observed. Other than the moss green vest still clutched in Ellyesce’s hand, the limbit wore only a tweed cap.

  “It was you who I saw across the lake a few days ago, wasn’t it?”

  The limbit didn’t say a word. He only stood there, his eyes darting from side to side as if contemplating the best way to escape as soon as Ellyesce released him.

  Ellyesce must have come to the same conclusion because his grip tightened on the limbit’s collar.

  “Whichever way you choose, I’ll be ready to run you down again,” he growled, “so stop considering your best means of escape.”

  The limbit gasped and glanced back at Ellyesce. “You can read my thoughts?”

  Ellyesce chuckled. “Hardly. It isn’t difficult to read your body language, lad. Now, are you through with this nonsense of trying to get away? The lady would like to discuss something with you.”

  He indicated Jahrra, and she smiled.

  The limbit slowly looked between all three of them again before sighing and nodding his head solemnly.

  “I’m going to let you go, but I’m warning you, if you try to run off before Jahrra here has received answers to all of her questions, then you’re in for a nasty surprise.”

  “I-I won’t run,” the limbit promised.

  Slowly, Ellyesce let him go, and he stumbled forward only to catch himself and turn upright. He did a quick circle, his fox feet churning up dust, before coming to a standstill facing Jahrra.

  “Hungry?” she asked right away.

  The limbit swallowed and nodded, his hat nearly slipping from his head.

  Ellyesce moved toward the fire. “I only made enough for two,” he said with an air of apology.

  “That’s alright. He can have mine,” Jahrra insisted.

  The limbit’s eyes grew wide again. “No. I couldn’t. What will you eat?”

  “We have plenty of oat bars left.”

  “Not as good as hot porridge,” the limbit murmured, his eyes glued to the ladle-full of steaming oats Ellyesce was dishing out.

  “No, you’re right. But I suspect you haven’t eaten in a while.”

  The limbit’s face grew rigid, and he drew his mouth into a sharp line. Jahrra got the impression that somehow, his pride was hurt. She looked him over once again, as discreetly as possible, and then grimaced. From her quick perusal, she noticed he was nearly skin and bones and was covered in even more grime than herself.

  Ellyesce stepped up beside her and offered her the bowl of porridge. Without a second thought, she held it out to the limbit. He didn’t budge, though his eyes fixed on the steaming food before him.

  “Come on, take it. I’m not going to eat it.”

  When he still refused to move, she added, “Consider it a peace offering, and an incentive to get you to answer our questions.”

  Finally, the limbit reached out a hand and slowly took the wooden bowl from her. His fingers were shaped just like hers, but covered in short, dark red hair. Only his fingernails were different. Sharp and black like a fox’s.

  The second he had the bowl in hand, the limbit sank to the ground and started eating. Everyone watched him with mild surprise. He was hungry. As if sensing their scrutiny, he slowed down and watched them carefully the way a feral animal studies its captors.

  “What’s your name?” Jahrra asked.

  Those brown eyes met hers. He finished his spoonful of porridge and said, “Dervit.”

  “And why have you been following us, Dervit?” Jaax inquired.

  Dervit’s ears swiveled in the dragon’s direction before drooping to the side of his head. Jahrra knew what that meant. He was afraid of Jaax. Well, she couldn’t blame him, but she wanted him to trust them, so she interjected.

  “I’d like to know, too.”

  Dervit looked back to her, one ear rotating forward. He drew in a deep breath through his nose then gazed down at his nearly empty bowl. “Okay,” he murmured, so quietly that Jahrra wondered if Jaax and Ellyesce had heard him.

  “I followed you because I had nowhere else to go.”

  “Surely not,” Ellyesce said, his tone holding incredulity. “Do you not have any family or a home that might be missing you?”

  To Jahrra’s utter bewilderment, Dervit laughed. But it was the dry, sorrowful laugh of someone who had recently experienced loss.

  “No. I don’t.”

  “It was your village,” Jaax said softly.

  Dervit turned to look at him, this time his ears trained forward.

  “The one the squadron leader boasted about destroying.”

  The limbit’s lip trembled ever so slightly, but he only gave a terse nod, then shrugged.

  “It doesn’t matter,” he said somberly. “I didn’t have a home to go back to anyway, not really.”

  “What do you mean?” Ellyesce asked, taking a seat on the log closest to Dervit.

  The limbit dropped his eyes and gazed into the fire, now only a pile of glowing coals.

  “What I said to those brutes was true. That flock of geese you saw me with, Miss? That was the third flock this year I was responsible for and managed to lose. It was my last chance to keep my place in the village.”

  “And they were going to do what? Throw you out?” Jahrra asked.

  Dervit nodded.

  Jahrra gasped in outrage. “Was there nothing else you could do?”

  The limbit sniffed and gave a half-hearted chuckle, then spread his hands before him. “I had already tried everything else. Growing vegetables. Keeping chickens. Foraging for truffles. The things I wanted to do, the things I still want to do, have no value in my village.”

  “What is it you want to do?” Jaax asked, keeping up his small part in this conversation.

  Dervit glanced at him. “So many things,” he said softly. “I don’t want to be tied down to village life. I want to dance, to sing, to make beautiful things. I want to see what else exists outside of these mountains. I want to discover new things to eat and learn how to create tools to make garden work easier. I want to see what I’m missing.”

  To Jahrra’s great relief, Jaax didn’t shake his head or laugh.

  “Those are admirable goals,” he said.

  “If that’s what you wanted to do, why didn’t you just leave on your own?” Jahrra asked as gently as she could.

  Dervit shrugged and wiped his nose with his arm, reminding her of the younger school children she’d known back in Oescienne. “I was afraid to leave. No one had ever left and returned to tell us of the world outside our boundaries. The elders always said that curiosity got the better of them, and they had perished. That’s what they said happened to my fathe
r, then my mother. Both of them left when my sisters and I were just kits.”

  “So, you have no parents,” Jahrra said. “What about your sisters?”

  “Our neighbor took us in. She loves my sisters, but always disliked me. She said I was just like my parents. Always wandering off and poking my nose into places it didn’t belong. She blamed my parents for making us orphans. Well, she doesn’t have to worry about me anymore. None of them do.”

  His voice trailed off, and the sharp sting of fresh sorrow shone in his eyes. Jahrra bit her cheek. How terrible. To be despised by your friends and family, then to be the only one to survive an attack? In a way, this strange creature reminded her of herself. She had also lost loved ones early in life. And her human traits had set her apart from her peers, even if she didn’t know it at the time.

  “What will you do now?” Ellyesce asked, getting the conversation moving again.

  Dervit didn’t answer.

  Jaax suggested, “Perhaps, now you can go out and explore the world.”

  Jahrra whipped her head around and glared at him. Honestly, couldn’t he make the effort to show a little sympathy every once in a while?

  The limbit remained silent.

  Ellyesce gave a small laugh. “I think that’s what he has been doing. And with the world being such a dangerous place, he has made sure to travel with the most fearsome thing to keep him safe should danger befall him.”

  The elf looked to Jaax, his face alit with a lopsided grin. The dragon only glowered at his friend.

  “I-I only meant to take the same road as you. Keep my distance and not be a bother. Truly, I never meant for you to know I was there!” Dervit stammered.

  “Until you decided to spy on me just this morning,” Jahrra added, sitting back and linking her arms across her chest.

  “I wasn’t spying,” Dervit grumbled, dropping his head once again and having the decency to flush.

  “Then what were you doing?” Jaax demanded.

  “Getting a drink at the pool!” the limbit insisted. “Do you know how tiring it is keeping up with a dragon, an elf, a Nesnan girl and three horses who are trying to outrun the Tyrant King’s soldiers?”

  Ellyesce and Jaax exchanged looks.

  “I do suppose you had to run twice as fast as us,” Ellyesce mused.

  “Then, you will be grateful to know that your arduous journey ends here,” Jaax said shortly, standing up and moving toward the road. “It has been a pleasure to meet you, young limbit, but we have a destination to reach as swiftly as possible, and you have already delayed us long enough. We must now go our separate ways.”

  Dervit sat, immobile, on his log, still clutching the empty bowl between his furry hands.

  “Wait, we’re just going to leave him here?”

  Jahrra stood and approached her guardian.

  “Useih trein drunmeh yiroeh raihndt,” she whispered in Kruelt. “We can’t do that. He has no family, no home left. He was following us for a reason, and a good one. If the Tyrant’s squadron finds him again, they won’t give him a sporting chance. They’ll run him down and crush him without even stopping.”

  “What do you suggest then?” Jaax snapped back in the same language.

  Jahrra refused to be cowed. She got right up into Jaax’s face, her own expression one of stern determination. “Let him travel with us until we reach Cahrdyarein. From there, he can make his own way. At least, he will be within the city’s gates.”

  “Cahrdyarein is no guaranteed safe haven from the Tyrant’s men,” Jaax countered.

  “It’s better than out here in the wilderness, where the roads are crawling with the Red Flange.”

  Jaax gritted his teeth so tightly together Jahrra thought they might break. She refused to stand down, but Jaax was just a stubborn as her, if not more so.

  “Fine,” he hissed in the common tongue, his breath tinged with smoke. “But, he will be under your care, and he’ll not come anywhere near me.”

  Jahrra nodded, then turned and looked at Dervit. He appeared frightened once again, and she couldn’t blame him. She had just had an argument with an angry dragon in an all but extinct language. She would have been frightened, too.

  “You can travel with us,” she said to him. “But only to Cahrdyarein. From there, you’ll have to make your own way.”

  Dervit’s eyes grew round and, for the first time since being dragged into the clearing, he smiled. Jahrra thought it improved his demeanor immensely, but she said nothing about it.

  “Good,” Ellyesce piped cheerfully. “It will be nice having a third player for Astral cards.”

  Jahrra smiled at that. She was enjoying the elf’s improved mood of late. She glanced over at Dervit and upon seeing his puzzled look, she added, “It’s a card game. We’ll teach you tonight, if we have the opportunity to build a fire.”

  Dervit stepped forward and lifted up the empty bowl. “Thank you,” he said, almost shyly. “I promise I won’t be a burden. And, I’ll find a way to repay you.”

  Jahrra only shook her head. “No repayment needed. Just having another friend to travel with who doesn’t constantly glare at me or go days without uttering a single word will be quite a treat. Those two get to be very boring after a while.”

  She jabbed her thumb over her shoulder, pointing out Ellyesce and Jaax.

  Dervit looked nervous and actually gathered up the end of his tail, like a toddler finding comfort in his blanket. Jahrra had to stifle a laugh.

  “How do you find the courage to talk to a dragon like that?” he whispered when Jaax turned away. “Aren’t you afraid he’ll set you on fire?”

  Jahrra stood up straight again and placed her hands on her hips. She lifted one eyebrow and gave the limbit a withering look.

  “Jaax? Scare me? Goodness no. Perhaps when I was younger and didn’t know any better.”

  “What do you mean?” Dervit asked nervously.

  Jahrra bent down, resting her hands on her knees this time.

  “I mean that Jaax is not nearly as terrifying as he may seem. He wears that prickly exterior to keep people from getting too close.”

  “And how can you get him to be nice to you?”

  “By proving to him that you are strong enough to stand up to a dragon,” she answered quietly.

  Dervit swallowed. “That’s impossible.”

  “No, it isn’t,” Jahrra replied, straightening once again. “It can be done. Take it from someone who has succeeded in such an impossible task.”

  As she turned and walked away, she absently pulled at a thin chain around her neck and proceeded to play with a narrow pendant hanging from the end.

  -Chapter Six-

  Second Chances

  The limbit stood there for a few moments, contemplating what she had said to him. He had no idea what she meant by her words, but clearly, she had found a way to show bravery before the cantankerous dragon. Dervit narrowed his eyes and watched them as the elf busied himself with cleaning the porridge bowls and small cauldron. There was respect between the young woman and the dragon, despite their strange argument. The way he listened to what she had to say, and the way he moved ever so slightly to give her room to pass. He wondered how a dragon, an elf and a Nesnan had teamed up in the first place, but it was obvious the dragon and the girl had been together longer.

  Shaking his head and trying to clear it of its usual wandering thoughts, Dervit moved forward, wanting to offer his help to the elf.

  Your family is gone, Dervit, he reminded himself. Time to find your place in this world.

  He was sad about the demise of his village, but he wouldn’t miss anyone too terribly. They had, after all, made an effort to avoid him, so it wasn’t as if he was close to anyone. Only when he thought about his four younger sisters did tears threaten to spill free.

  I do regret that you didn’t get to see much of life, he thought to himself. I will have to live it for you, then.

  “Dervit!” Jahrra called out. “You’ll ride on Rumble, the pac
k horse, for now.”

  Dervit glanced up to find Jahrra sitting atop the marble grey semequin he remembered from that horrible encounter at the crossroads. He shuddered. Now that was a memory he didn’t want to relive.

  Ellyesce stepped forward then on his own white mount, leading the large bay horse toward a half-fallen tree. Dervit had always been afraid of horses, even though he had not seen too many of them. During his younger years, when his adventures stretched only to the road that brought merchants and travelers in and out of the higher mountain cities, he had seen horses. Huge, nervous beasts that threatened to step on him on more than one occasion. Now, he would have to ride atop one.

  The limbit’s heart fluttered like a bird trapped within his ribcage, and the instinct to bolt was strong. But he remembered what Jahrra had said to him about earning the respect of a dragon. If he wanted Jaax’s respect, or at the least, if he wished to stand before him without fear, how would he ever accomplish such a goal if he was too frightened to approach a docile pack horse?

  You can do this, Dervit, he chanted to himself. Breathe in, breathe out …

  Making an effort not to look at the horse, Dervit climbed up the tree limb until he was even with the softest looking bag strapped to the animal’s back. As carefully as he could, he stepped onto the pack and got comfortable, grabbing onto a few ropes in case the beast decided to take off down the road with him on board.

  “Relax,” the elf chuckled. “He’s quite meek, and I’ve got the lead rope. He goes where I go and at the pace of my choosing.”

  Ellyesce shook the rope in front of Dervit so the limbit could see he had a good hold on him.

  Dervit swallowed and nodded vigorously. Okay. He had passed the first challenge. He was on a horse. A very large horse. He wasn’t sure if he wanted to shout for joy or burst into tears. Before he could decide which, the elf let out a sharp whistle, and the horse jolted forward.