Denaeh waited patiently for a response, her back straight and her hands folded gently in her lap.
Jahrra swallowed. “Jaax left for Nimbronia for some business early last week. During his absence, Shiroxx came to visit me. I thought she was there for Jaax but it turned out she was just trying to get information from me. Jaax wasn’t happy when he found out.”
Jahrra nudged a small stone over with the toe of her boot. The crackle of the fire played against the babble of the brook just behind them. The silence lasted just long enough for Jahrra to know Denaeh had been digesting her words and perhaps trying to see if anything concerning the situation would take place in the next few days.
“I see,” she said at last. “Is that all?”
Jahrra blinked up at her then remembered the real reason Jaax had dismissed Shiroxx. “It was all a pretense, of course. What she was really doing was testing my loyalty to Jaax. Oh, and it became known to us tonight that she had also sent someone to spy on me.”
Denaeh snorted and said, mostly to herself, “Oh, he would be paranoid about that, though the fact that she was spying on you is a little disturbing.”
She sighed and stood once again. “So now you have not one but two disgruntled dragons out to get you, the first of which is known to be underhanded, and the other?”
“He’s just as bad. He openly threatened me, actually,” Jahrra responded.
“Ah,” was Denaeh’s sharp reply.
Jahrra looked up and caught a flash of topaz eyes.
“Don’t worry,” she retorted. “I threatened him right back.”
“That’s my girl,” Denaeh answered with a grin. “I’ll keep my senses sharp. If I see anything or hear anything I’ll be sure to let you know.”
Jahrra looked around. Where was Denaeh going to live if she couldn’t live with them?
“I have a cave just over the hill,” the Mystic answered Jahrra’s thoughts, “and I’ll send Milihn when I need to speak with you.”
Jahrra’s eyes went wide with joy. “Milihn? Oh, where is Milihn?” She started looking around but saw no sign of the bird.
Denaeh laughed. “He’s off gathering trinkets for me, but he may have been distracted by friends. I’ve spotted the occasional korehv or two since entering the province of Felldreim.”
A sudden thought bubbled up from Jahrra’s memory. She had been so distracted by the latest upset in her life that she had completely forgotten about her encounter with the other Mystic in the Witching District.
“Speaking of korehvs,” Jahrra began, “my friend and I noticed one in Lidien a few months ago.”
She eyed her friend, looking for any sign of recognition in the woman’s eyes. Denaeh merely gazed at her patiently, waiting for her to continue.
“Anyway, it was sitting above the shop of a fortune teller and when we went in I discovered that the fortune teller was in fact a Mystic.”
Denaeh seemed to go very still but her face remained impassive. “Go on,” she encouraged.
“I asked the woman if she was a Mystic but she denied it and quite aggressively chased us away.”
Denaeh’s face darkened and she said in a harsh whisper, “Did you mention my name?”
Jahrra felt suddenly uneasy but she cleared her throat and continued. “Yes. I’m sorry Denaeh, I didn’t think she was going to react so harshly. She insisted that we leave. I didn’t even learn her name.”
“What did she look like?” Denaeh pressed.
“A little taller than you, saffron hair, pale yellow eyes. She had a cat inside and a korehv outside.”
Denaeh looked away, a frown dominating her face. Jahrra cringed, worried that she had put her friend in danger.
“Sounds like Sahrielle,” the Mystic grumbled. She concentrated on a patch of earth for a moment or two more, then gave a bitter grin. “Oh yes, she would feel threatened by me.”
“Uh, Denaeh?” Jahrra asked.
The Mystic took a deep breath, managed to shake off most of her unease, and gave Jahrra a broad smile. “Thank you for that information. I’ll be sure to keep a wary eye open in case I encounter her.”
“But,” Jahrra began.
“Don’t worry. She isn’t something to bother yourself about. Old disagreement between us is all. I’m afraid you have more to worry about with your two dragons than I do with my old acquaintance.”
Jahrra grimaced and Denaeh laughed. “What I mean is, she is no threat to me and most likely, your dragons are no threat to you, though I will suggest you don’t let your guard down.”
“I won’t,” Jahrra vowed.
“I daresay,” Denaeh said after a pause and a shake of her head, “midday is soon approaching and your dragon will be wondering where you are.”
Jahrra eyed her and grumbled, “He’s not my dragon.”
The Mystic only grinned at that and walked with her over to Phrym.
The two women embraced once more. Jahrra was beside herself with glee for discovering her old friend but something about the way she reacted to the news about the other Mystic nagged at the back of her mind. Best to file it away with all the other mysteries that keep me occupied, she thought. At least for now.
Once in the saddle, Jahrra turned to Denaeh to bid farewell. “I’ll see you again soon, won’t I?”
The Mystic smiled, her eyes sparkling gold, and placed a hand on Jahrra’s knee. “Of course, dearest Jahrra. Next time we’ll have more time to visit and I’ll tell you all about my travels and you can tell me of yours.”
Jahrra grinned and clicked Phrym forward, back down the road they’d taken out of the city. She reached the rise in the path and turned back to wave. Denaeh waved back, watching Jahrra and Phrym until she could see no more of them.
“Interesting,” she murmured as she transformed into her elderly self, ambling back to her make-shift campsite.
“Did you hear that, Milihn?” her old woman’s crackly voice called up to the branches above.
A great dark bird grumbled, just loud enough for the Mystic to hear him.
The old woman grinned, recalling what Jahrra had told her of the unrest festering in the Coalition and the surprising news about the other Mystic. That would have to be taken care of as soon as possible but since Jahrra’s story was the first she had heard of it, Sahrielle must be using some very strong magic to block her, if it was Sahrielle at all. Digging her up, especially since she had surely flown her little hiding spot as soon as Jahrra had spoken the name of Archedenaeh, would be nearly impossible.
She sighed, folding up her irritation and storing it away for later, said aloud, “It looks like there is more to the situation than we thought.”
The bird grumbled again, this time a bit louder, before ruffling his feathers and giving himself a good shake.
“Yes, I agree,” mused the old woman as she started smothering the fire. “Very interesting indeed.”
-Chapter Twenty-Three-
Bad News
Jahrra took her time heading back into the city, her mind too alive with the thought of seeing Denaeh to realize how exhausted she was or to worry any further about Rohdann making good on his threats. It had seemed so surreal, almost like a dream. If the air hadn’t been so cold or the sun so bright in her eyes, she would have believed it a dream, but the Mystic had been there, alive and substantial.
Jahrra laughed out loud, garnering a questioning whicker from Phrym. It had been so wonderful to see her old friend and although the visit had been relatively short, Jahrra was grateful nonetheless. And to have heard news about Gieaun and Scede. She stifled a sudden sob, pressing the back of her hand to her mouth. The thought of her two best friends started an ache in her chest she couldn’t seem to drive away. But they are safe, she reminded herself, safe from harm. And they knew that she was safe. Well, as safe as one could be under the care of a dragon with an evil god-king and his army trying to hunt her down. Jahrra shook her head. She wouldn’t worry about that, at least not for now.