“I believe my son has been by already to make his introductions.”
Jahrra sucked in a slight breath, studying the elvin woman’s features more thoroughly. Yes, she did resemble Keiron. Although, from what Jahrra could gather, all the elves had similar coloring, but this woman’s fine, elegant features had been reflected in her son. But unlike Keiron, this particular elf seemed colder and more distant. Jahrra swallowed, reminding herself not to be intimidated.
“Yes,” Jahrra finally managed. “Keiron just left. He came by to make sure I was doing well.”
“I am Marzi,” the woman said, her tone languid. “My husband has asked me to come fetch you and escort you to the fortress.”
“Oh!” Jahrra exclaimed, recalling the name Keiron had given her. “Your husband must be the steward!”
Marzi arched a pale eyebrow. “Yes, and as we speak, he is interrogating your dragon about what happened on the mountainside earlier today.”
Jahrra turned to fetch her boots, but left the door open.
“I’d like to know as well,” she shot over her shoulder.
“Then get your shoes on and gather up your limbit and follow us,” Marzi said, turning away from the door. “We’ll just be outside waiting for you.”
She turned away to give Jahrra a little privacy.
“What’s going on?” Dervit hissed, his eyes darting about nervously. He had half hidden himself behind the chair again.
Jahrra cast him a beseeching glance as she sat down on the edge of the bed.
“We’re going to the steward’s house to meet with Jaax. Keiron’s mother is waiting outside with,” Jahrra paused, yanking on her boot as she considered who the other elves might be. A steward was like a king, in a way, since he was responsible for the ruling of the city. So was Marzi like a queen? Jahrra shrugged and reached for her other shoe.
“I guess they are her attendants,” she finally said, standing back up and glancing at the limbit.
Dervit stepped cautiously out from behind the chair. Jahrra tried not to laugh.
“Marzi seems a little aloof, but I don’t think they’ll bite!” she said, walking toward the door.
Dervit followed close behind, trying to shake free of his nervousness. Once outside, Marzi stepped away from her companions and gestured for Jahrra and Dervit to follow her. Casting one last encouraging look at her limbit friend, Jahrra fell into step behind the elvin woman, and soon, they were all on their way.
The city of Cahrdyarein was far different from Lidien, Jahrra realized, as they left her small cabin and its neighbors behind. Everything seemed to be made of wood, a commodity that was quite plentiful given their surroundings, with the roofing of most dwellings being that of slate tiles piled atop one another. Some of the huts were larger than hers, some smaller. A few of them appeared to be built into the mountainside itself, and she couldn’t help but wonder if there were spacious caverns hidden behind the walls of those particular abodes.
The road they took was wide and unpaved and slightly muddy, what with the recent snowstorm and spring’s encroaching warmth. Fortunately, sidewalks fashioned from slabs of granite gave pedestrians a somewhat dry place to pass. Dervit, his cautious side slowly losing the battle against his curiosity, kept moving away from his tall friend, only to press himself close once again the moment he realized his error. Jahrra suspected this was a result of the attention they were gathering along the way. Although the elves of the city seemed rather preoccupied with their daily business, they did stop to watch the newcomers pass. Jahrra offered them a polite smile or a nod of the head every so often, and usually the gesture of greeting was returned.
Cahrdyarein, she soon learned, was almost entirely peopled by Resai, obviously descended from the fair elves of the colder regions of the world. Their nearly white hair and pale skin appeared almost ghostly, and their ice blue eyes seemed to pierce her soul. They wore the rustic garb of mountain dwellers, but everyone, from the lowliest milkmaid to the highly decorated soldier, still carried that air of haughty grace she’d first experienced with Marzi and her retinue.
The party continued to head west around the base of what remained of the mountain peak, the main road cutting between houses as well as buildings for commerce. As they spiraled ever upward, Jahrra took note of the usual businesses: a tavern or two sporting rooms upstairs for those wishing to stay the night, a bakery displaying pastries and loaves on trays set before dust-free windows, a general grocery advertising foodstuffs as well as small household items such as candles and cook pots. There was even a bookshop, Jahrra noted with delight, the wooden sign above the door featuring brightly painted tomes. The distinct clink of a blacksmith working hot metal over an anvil, and the impatient whinnies of stabled horses mixed with the general murmur of people crowded into the limited space a city provided.
A few restaurants dotted the road ahead, and the scents wafting from their doors and windows had Jahrra’s stomach growling. When they’d climbed high enough to see over the great wall circling the city, Jahrra found herself pausing to take in the view. For miles upon miles, beyond the point that she could see, the Hruhnan Mountains dominated the landscape, their peaks painted in colors of gold, violet and tarnished copper.
Jahrra and her companions swept around a final turn, and the landscape abruptly changed. The roadway ended before a huge sheet of granite, and the forest became more dense, several young firs and cedars creeping away from the older trees dominating the northeastern side of the city. A massive house, built of pine logs and stone, sat perched on a natural shelf of land. The building stretched away from a granite monolith large enough to be a castle itself, and a sturdy wooden terrace added an impressive flair to the building’s facade.
As they moved closer, Jahrra picked up the familiar sound of rushing water, and she glanced upward. A towering waterfall, white with froth, streamed from a drop a hundred feet or so above, only to crash down against another massive sheet of granite. The water fanned out over the granite’s face, making it gleam like polished silver in the late afternoon sunlight.
“Wow,” Dervit exclaimed beside her.
Jahrra could only nod.
“This way,” Marzi said with a lilting tone to her voice.
They headed straight toward the building, their shoes crunching against the pea gravel spread before a wide staircase. Two armed guards standing on either side of the stairs bowed slightly, then grabbed the handles of the double doors, pulling them open with gusto. A wave of warmth and active conversation hit Jahrra as she stepped inside the wide open space. The first floor stretched twenty or more feet straight up to the ceiling, and about halfway up, a wide wooden walkway wrapped all the way around the interior. Chandeliers fashioned from the antlers of the great hoofed mammals familiar to this part of the world hung from the ceiling, and diamond paned windows ran alongside the rectangular loft.
The elves led Jahrra and Dervit beyond the edge of the wooden entrance hall and through a stone archway. The space only grew larger after that, and Jahrra realized the wooden fortress hid the opening to an extensive cave. Several alcoves along the walls had been converted into sitting areas for people to rest and discuss important stately matters. Affixed to the rough, uneven walls were several candelabra, the white candles clutched in their iron hands cold and unlit. Perhaps it was the lack of firelight, then, that made Jahrra take note of how surprisingly bright the chamber was without the aid of candles and torches. Only when she turned around to glance behind her did she notice the enormous, many-faceted window set in a circular cavity carved from the cavern roof. Waning afternoon light poured through the clear glass like pale streamers unfurling at a celebration banquet, brightening what would have been an otherwise dark and dank interior.