Jahrra narrowed her eyes and concentrated very hard, doing her best to translate what words she could read: Ressehn epit edth Oehm Ceyvhe, cloess edth findell epit rissen desset dodthe hrechteh . . . Illiehs yhndth worrghe veieh mommreh drothe. Chirehm litt boisciehn, heileh dohedth kitthe. Savior of the Olden Race, at the end of this path you trace . . . Truth and danger may lie here. Beyond this point, embrace your fear.
That much Kruelt Jahrra understood, and after deciphering it, she shivered, despite the scorching heat. She now remembered writing these words in, but that was long before she knew any Draggish, and she had never asked Hroombra what it had meant before.
“What is it?” asked Gieaun, urging Aimhe closer.
“Nothing. Thought I might have been mistaken for a moment, but this must be it,” Jahrra recovered quickly, expertly moving her thumb over the words while still exposing the silt pile below the mouth of the canyon.
Gieaun glanced at the map sleepily, not thinking for once that her friend might be trying to deceive her. All that she cared about was getting out of the glare of the sun for awhile.
“That has to be it,” Jahrra insisted. “If that isn’t it, I say we turn around and camp out where we stopped for lunch.”
Gieaun and Jahrra both looked up at Scede with questioning eyes.
“Alright,” he said indifferently, wiping away the sweat that had gathered on his forehead.
The horses picked up the pace, straining against their fatigue to reach the canyon’s base. Finally they reached the great pile of stones that betrayed the entrance to Ehnnit Canyon. The travelers slowed the horses to a stop and glanced up at a massive stone arch, standing against the afternoon sun like a brave knight facing down the fiery breath of a dragon. Jahrra’s face fell and her stomach dropped when she saw what was carved into the thick stone entrance to the canyon. She braved a glance at Gieaun and Scede, sitting silently on Bhun and Aimhe, looking up at the Draggish symbols etched deep into the arch.
“What on Ethoes could that say?” Scede said aloud, a confounded look gripping his face.
“I don’t know, probably some gibberish someone wrote long ago,” Jahrra said, shrugging her shoulders.
“What about that?” Gieaun asked in a quavering voice, her finger pointed rigidly towards the gaping mouth of the canyon. Jahrra looked up at the arch once more, her heart threatening to stop beating. She had seen the Kruelt warning, but she had missed the words written in the common language just below. Painted in a panicked, scraggly fashion were the black words: Beware this canyon.
Scede spoke aloud as he read them, and then he glared over at Jahrra. Don’t panic, she thought as his eyes shot daggers at her. As far as Scede knows, I had no idea this canyon might be dangerous.
“Jahrra,” the calm, controlled tone made her even more nervous, “did you know about this, this warning?”
Jahrra looked up and tried to appear as innocent as possible. Scede’s face was slightly red, and she convinced herself it was the result of being in the sun too long, not the side effect of anger.
“No, I didn’t, how could I know? I’ve never been here before, and the symbols on my map are in some strange language.”
Jahrra floundered with her answer, but for once she was glad that Hroombra had insisted she not teach her friends the dragons’ tongue.
“Are you kidding me? You mean to tell me you just so happened to want to go on a long camping trip, you just so happened to want to travel south, and you just so happened to notice this neat little canyon that might be interesting to visit!?” Scede spat, his voice slowly rising to a shrill hiss over his barrage of questions.
Jahrra had rarely seen Scede so angry, and she attributed most of it to the influence the heat was having on him.
“Scede, calm down, Jahrra didn’t know that this place was dangerous, you saw the map!” Gieaun said, sounding slightly perplexed. “It just shows an unmarked canyon, remember?”
Scede led Bhun over to where Jahrra and Phrym stood.
“Give me the map,” he demanded blankly, thrusting his hand out in expectation.
Jahrra knew that he would now see the other words in Kruelt, and she feared his anger and suspicion would only grow. Yet, refusing him would only make matters worse. She reluctantly held out the map, flinching when Scede snatched it away from her. He hastily opened it, spreading it across the back of Bhun’s neck so he could read it in the full sunlight. He looked it over for a few moments and then thrust it out in Gieaun’s direction.
Gieaun looked confused, and when she didn’t take it right away he barked, “Look!”
He was pointing directly at the Draggish words on the map. Then he turned to Jahrra, his green-brown eyes looking like a forest consumed by a wildfire.
“I know you know what that says. Hroombra has taught you!”
Jahrra gaped in astonishment. She had never, ever mentioned anything about the secret language she’d struggled with for the past several years to either Gieaun or Scede. However, when the shock of his statement passed and she truly thought about it, she wasn’t all that surprised. Almost everything Hroombra owned had Draggish characters inked upon it. Scede was only right to think that he would teach their meaning to Jahrra.
Gieaun brought Aimhe closer, all the while looking at Jahrra in a suspicious and disturbed manner. “Is it true?” she asked her friend feebly. “Do you know what that writing says?”
Jahrra took a deep breath and dropped her eyes, choosing her words carefully.
“I honestly didn’t see that until we got into the sunlight, and I don’t know what all of it says.” she half-lied. She continued on, improvising where she needed to, “I can only make out the words “canyon” and “truth”. The rest I don’t know.”
Jahrra hoped this part-truth was good enough for her suspecting friends.
“But Master Hroombra taught you, I know it!” Scede breathed heatedly.
Jahrra shot Scede a poisonous glance and murmured, “Just because he’s teaching me doesn’t mean I’m any good at learning it!”
“Jahrra, how could you?” Gieaun cried. “Why did you lie to us? Why did you really bring us here?”
Jahrra was crestfallen to see that Gieaun had suddenly lost trust in her too. It’s your own fault, her conscience reminded her. You did lie to them after all.
Before she could answer Gieaun’s question, Scede cut in.
“I know this place now,” he said in a low, harsh voice. “This is Ehnnit Canyon, the one we were told about as children. The very place that leads into the mountains where the Crimson King’s men fear to go, the same place that is said to be the home of a monster far more terrifying than any boarlaque or goblin, or swamp witch. This place is cursed and haunted, and Jahrra has led us here.”
Scede’s voice was an eerie monotone and despite the heat, Jahrra felt goose bumps prickling her arms. Scede looked very angry, and Jahrra now knew that it wasn’t the sun’s heat causing his anger, but her own stubbornness and deliberate dishonesty.
As she sat burning under the glare of the sun and the scorn of her friends, Jahrra allowed her emotions to sort themselves out. She felt that all too-familiar pang of guilt surging up inside of her. She’d been utterly unfair to them, but she also felt a burning need to follow through with her promise to Denaeh. Besides, she had come this far already, hadn’t she? They couldn’t turn back now, not without looking for the apple tree Denaeh had told her about. Jahrra’s conscience was chastising her for being so selfish, but with some effort, she managed to ignore it.