“You promise not to maim me?” he asked with some trepidation.
“I’m severely tempted to,” Jahrra grumbled in response.
When Dervit didn’t answer, or move from his current location, she rolled her eyes to the canopy of pine branches above and sighed heavily.
“Cross my heart,” she said while also doing the action.
Jahrra eyed her friend with slight derision as he extricated himself from his hiding place to come stand a few feet in front of Phrym.
“Why are you following me?”
The limbit took off his hat and twisted it in his hands. “I saw you leave this morning,” he said, his eyes averted. “You were alone, and it was still dark. And you were moving around the room quietly. I had a bad feeling you were sneaking out to do something that could get you into trouble. Jaax made me promise to look after you, remember?”
Jahrra snorted. “There is looking after me, and then there is intrusion of privacy. Guess which one you’re doing right now?”
Dervit glanced up at her. “Well, I decided on my own to follow you this morning. I heard what Keiron said to you the other night and thought it best if you didn’t go to the Round alone.”
Jahrra felt her face flush. Again. She shot her small friend a poisonous glare. “I think Keiron meant for our meeting to be private.”
Dervit swallowed. “That’s what I don’t like. I mean, he could have just come to visit you in your cabin, or he could have asked you to meet him at a different time of day.”
Jahrra glared at her friend. “I thought you liked Keiron, Dervit.”
He placed his hat back atop his head, between his large ears, and continued, “I do, I mean, I did. But after last night? I don’t know, there was something different in the way he watched you that makes me reconsider my opinion. I never really noticed before during practice because your opponent is supposed to watch you carefully. But at the dance … It gave me a bad feeling.”
Jahrra didn’t welcome the dread that suddenly flooded her heart. The suspicions of Jaax and Ellyesce, she could brush off. Her guardian was already biased, and Ellyesce would always take his side over hers. But Dervit was her friend, and although she hadn’t known him long, he had always been straightforward and honest with her.
Jahrra shook her head, trying to clear it. She decided to press the limbit for more information.
“How exactly does he look at me?” she ventured.
Dervit glanced up, his pale brown eyes holding some worry. “Like he’s just found a way to break into the henhouse.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?” Jahrra asked wearily, pinching the bridge of her nose between two fingers.
“It means he’s up to something devious, Jahrra, something that involves you. I know Master Jaax asked me to keep an eye on you, but I made the choice to trail after you this morning because I think the regent’s son isn’t who you think he is.”
Jahrra felt her face go pale. Had Ellyesce or Jaax discussed their theory of the presence of a spy within Cahrdyarein’s boundaries with Dervit? Surely not. But perhaps her guardian, or even Ellyesce, had dropped some hints knowing full well that Dervit would be likely to keep an extra eye on her if he thought she might be in danger. The thought stirred up Jahrra’s dormant anger. Would she ever be allowed to do anything based purely on her own judgment without Jaax interfering?
“You worry too much, Dervit,” she breathed, keeping her irritation in check. “I’m meeting Keiron at the Round. It’s not as if I’m sneaking out of Cahrdyarein to some secret rendezvous. We’ll be leaving for Nimbronia very soon. Can’t I enjoy my last hours in Cahrdyarein in peace?”
“But–” Dervit began to say.
Jahrra cut him off.
“Did Jaax say anything to you? Maybe not to you directly, but perhaps you happened to overhear him and Ellyesce discussing Keiron and how Jaax doesn’t trust him. Is that why you suddenly feel unsure about him?”
Dervit turned his face away from her, but she didn’t miss the color rising to his cheeks. Just as she had suspected. The limbit had been set up.
Snorting in mild disgust, Jahrra straightened in the saddle and picked up Phrym’s reins once more.
“Thank you for your concern,” she said, her voice clipped, “but I’m not a child any longer. I can take care of myself.”
She kicked Phrym forward, wanting to get to the Round now more than ever. Curse Jaax and Dervit and everyone else who thought she wasn’t old enough to make her own decisions.
“Jahrra,” the limbit started, but she cut him off.
“Go back to the village, Dervit. If you follow me, you’ll regret it.”
Jahrra jogged Phrym the rest of the way up the snowy trail, not looking back to see if her small friend followed. She no longer cared. She really was tired of everyone trying to tell her what was best. Couldn’t they trust her to figure that out for herself, especially since it was her life that was in question?
She and Phrym reached the circle of stones five minutes after leaving Dervit behind on the trail. Jahrra glanced around the clearing, taking note of the small waterfall half hidden behind the standing stones, the stream of water framed by sheets of frost. There was no sign of anyone else, including the local wildlife.
Jahrra shivered again and wondered where Keiron might be. It had to be well past sunrise by now. She shaded her eyes and glanced up at the sun breaking through the clouds and tree branches above. Perhaps the regent’s son had annoying friends holding him back as well. Or maybe, his father had caught wind of his plans to meet her here. She curled her lip. The regent most definitely wouldn’t approve of a secret meeting between his heir and the unworthy human girl.
Jahrra waited perhaps five more minutes, sitting tensely upon Phrym and fearing that Dervit might have been correct in what he’d said to her. She shook the feeling of ill will off and glanced up. It was then that she saw them, creeping around the edges of the meadow. Figures dressed all in black, their heads shadowed by thick hoods, brilliant scarlet sashes covering much of their faces, all except their eyes. A spike of fear shot through Jahrra’s heart.
“Jahrra! Run!” a familiar, muffled voice shouted.
Jahrra whipped her head around to catch a glimpse of Keiron crouching between two of the boulders on the opposite side of the meadow. He had stumbled to the ground, his hands tied behind his back, blood seeping from a cut at his temple. Before she could respond, before Keiron could cry out again, one of the black-clad men cuffed him over the head with the hilt of his sword. Keiron slumped to the ground.
“No!” Jahrra cried out, but there was nothing she could do. She watched helplessly as her unconscious friend was gagged and dragged back behind the boulder. She didn’t want to think about what they would do to him.
Knowing she couldn’t help Keiron if she was captured too, Jahrra jerked Phrym’s reins, forcing him to turn quickly and face the gap in the rocks where they had entered. Too late. A tall, menacing figure, dressed like the others slinking around the tall rocks surrounding them, stood blocking the exit, a wicked sword held in front of him. The weapon was long and curved slightly like the horns of the unicorns she had once seen in the Wreing Florenn. It was dark in color, almost black, and the edge that bowed outward was serrated. She didn’t want to imagine what this stranger might do with that sword.
Phrym snorted in fear and irritation, and Jahrra turned him again to search for another exit, but there were none. On foot she might be able to squeeze through the gaps between the standing stones, or even climb over the boulders framing the waterfall, but she had Phrym to consider as well. She would never leave her semequin behind. They were trapped.