He nodded. “A private meeting with his majesty, discussing when he might expect us. But there’s more,” he paused and looked back towards the fire. After a moment, he turned and gave her a dark look. “Cierryon’s men have found a way into Felldreim.”
Jahrra felt the air leave her lungs and she thought her knees were going to give out.
When the roaring in her head ceased and her vision cleared, she found her voice. “But, they can’t penetrate the outer borders of Felldreim, can they? I thought that was impossible, that the magic contained in this province is so strong those, those,” Jahrra was ranting, panic laced her voice and she started to pace to keep from collapsing, “those, butchers, could never get in!”
“No, they shouldn’t have,” Jaax said, his voice hard, “but they did, and I have no idea how long it will take them to reach Lidien.”
Jahrra stopped her pacing and threw him a look of shock.
“And you’ve known this for two weeks?!” She sat down in the chair closest to her, her eyes wide and her face paling.
“You’ve known the Tyrant’s soldiers are headed this way, and you didn’t tell me?”
The hurt and disbelief in Jahrra’s voice cut at Jaax. “I wanted to tell you earlier,” he said quietly, “right after I returned from Nimbronia; after I had a chance to scour the edges of Felldreim’s wilderness to see for myself if the information was legitimate.”
Jahrra had her elbows on her knees and her face in her hands. It was too much, just too much. The ousting of Shiroxx, the threats from Rohdann, the sudden appearance of Denaeh and the rumors that threatened to turn them into a pair of monsters. And now Jaax was telling her that the king of the Creecemind, an ally they desperately needed, was calling her to come pay a visit in Nimbronia and that the Crimson King’s soldiers, those who were out to destroy her, had invaded a province they should never have been able to enter in the first place. Jahrra’s head was spinning and she had no idea how to make it stop.
“I’ve failed again, haven’t I?”
Jaax’s voice was so soft, so pained, that Jahrra woke up from her stupor to look at him.
Finally, the tension she saw around his eyes and his out-of-character frustration made sense. He’d been trying to find the best time to tell her all of this, but one thing had happened after another and he’d had to put it off.
“Failed?” Jahrra asked, her throat raw with confusion and barely checked emotion.
Jaax nodded. “Failed to include you, failed to trust you,” he breathed deeply, “failed to break bad news to you gently.”
Jahrra cringed at that but forced the terrible memories to the back of her mind before they could surface. She would not let her memories wander back to the afternoon Hroombra had died; how Jaax had been the one to tell her.
“No,” she said hoarsely, shaking her head, “no.”
“Jahrra,” Jaax started to say.
“No,” she answered more forcefully, sitting up straight in the chair. “I’m not angry, at least not with you. You’ve had enough on your mind as well.”
She sighed and looked down at her hands, her fingers gently laced. “You had much on your mind then also,” she said quietly, almost as an afterthought, referring to that year-old memory they both had no wish to revisit.
A long silence spread before them, one that could have lasted forever. Jahrra finally understood why Jaax had kept all those secrets from her as she grew up and although he was doing nearly the same now, she was older and a bit wiser. She now understood how circumstances could force a person to hold off on telling their secrets in order to protect those they cared about.
Finally, Jahrra looked up at Jaax. He was tense again, as if he was worried about what she might say next. Jahrra heaved one more sigh and returned her gaze to the carpet.
“So, what do we do now?”
Jaax’s voice was steely, his emotions held entirely at bay. “We make ready to leave.”
-Chapter Twenty-Five-
A Visitor in the Night
The pale light of a waning crescent moon flooded through the tall windows of Jahrra’s bedroom, pooling on the floor like cool silk. Lying perfectly still in her four poster bed and staring up at the canopy above, Jahrra took a deep breath and tried to decide what had woken her. It hadn’t been a bad dream, for her heartbeat was normal and she didn’t feel clammy or terrified, nor was it a good dream; she couldn’t remember anything at all. Instead, she felt strangely restless and alert, as if her conscience knew of some approaching event but didn’t know how to tell her. Perhaps it was merely her overwhelmed emotional state from everything that had happened in the past two weeks.
Sighing and realizing she wasn’t about to go back to sleep any time soon, Jahrra threw the covers aside and dropped down to the floor. It was a cool night, what with the last chill of winter still hanging in the air, so she picked up her cloak and crept towards her door. Pulling it open with barely a sound and blessing Neira for keeping the hinges well oiled, she stuck her head out into the hallway, looking first towards the stairs leading down into the main hall of the house then in the opposite direction towards Neira’s quarters and the bathing room.
Finding the coast clear, Jahrra stepped out into the hallway and headed towards the window that she always used to access the roof terrace. From the position of the moon she could tell that dawn wasn’t too far off and since she wasn’t going to be able to sleep the rest of the night anyway, she might as well sit out on the patio and enjoy the view of the early morning constellations.
This side of the house didn’t face the bay but Jahrra wasn’t seeking the moon’s reflection off of the water, nor the scattered candle-lit windows of Lidien that would blink back at her like faded, yellow stars. She simply wanted to breathe some fresh air and let her mind be at ease; perhaps give her nerves a chance to recompose themselves. She padded across the cool surface of the patio, her bare feet finding some comfort on the rough stones below them. She chose to sit on the bench closest to the kitchen chimney and outdoor fire pit where once, months ago, she and her friends had enjoyed an evening together.
Taking a seat and leaning against the wall, Jahrra sighed deeply and drew her cloak around her. Perhaps the still night was a bit colder than she had anticipated. She scoured the silver lit terrace, smiling at the silhouettes of her apple trees, their leaves just starting to come in. The thought of the sweet tang of apples in the fall danced across her mind before the sudden disappointment of yesterday’s conversation trilled through her memory. She and Jaax would not be in Lidien when her apples would be ready to eat. They would be leaving soon, perhaps in a few days’ time, abandoning friends and a feeling of belonging once again.
Jahrra bit her cheek. It was amazing to her that she could learn to love a new home so much, especially after vowing never to love any place as dearly as she loved Oescienne. But that had been before everything . . . Jahrra shook her head, grinning despite the reminded sorrow. Hroombra had once told her that perspective changes as one grows older. He had been right.
Yawning hugely, Jahrra stood up and decided to walk around, hoping the easy exercise could help bring her thoughts to a less depressing subject; to veer them away from the thought of leaving and what she would have to face outside of Lidien once they were gone.
She made her way to the stone balustrade and peeked over. The grand circular driveway was pale below, the gray crushed granite looking almost white. The fountain and small garden stood like an island in the middle, the round leaves of the water lilies still dormant beneath the water. Jahrra folded her arms and bent to lean against the stone railing. She widened her gaze and stared out into the trees blanketing their hill.