For some reason, Jahrra didn’t feel frightened any longer. Instead she felt perplexed, and even a little angry. Denaeh had lied to her; she had talked her into coming to Ehnnit Canyon when she could have collected the apples herself. But why? Why would Denaeh put her in such danger? Jahrra wasn’t sure, but she had a feeling that perhaps the Mystic was trying to tell, or show, her something, something the woman couldn’t tell her herself. Jahrra put aside her thoughts for later (they only made her head ache) and focused on the great beast that led them down the canyon.
With his great membranous wings folded, the strange creature didn’t seem nearly as huge as he had first appeared, and although he walked rather awkwardly over the rock-littered canyon floor, he managed well enough.
A few minutes further up the canyon, it dawned upon Jahrra that their leader must have a name.
“I’m sorry,” she blurted, breaking the uneasy silence, “but what should we call you?”
“I am called Cahrume,” he answered, “and I am what the common folk call a draffyd.”
The draffyd continued his awkward gate, his head roving back and forth, scanning the landscape for more sehnnas. Jahrra relaxed a little and eased back in the saddle. Cahrume the draffyd. She vaguely remembered Hroombra teaching her about them once, years ago, and now that she scrutinized him in the golden afternoon light, she could see that he matched the old dragon’s description of the mythical animals. Jahrra smiled. I can’t wait to see what we find next!
After awhile, she spoke up again, “Um, Cahrume? Where exactly is it that we are going?”
The party had been walking now for nearly fifteen minutes and Jahrra was beginning to wonder if this strange journey would never end. Cahrume seemed to know the trails that ran just above the canyon floor and had so far maneuvered them quite well, considering how narrow they were. The group had been forced into a single file line, Cahrume followed by Jahrra atop Phrym, Gieaun on Aimhe, and finally Scede riding Bhun, bringing up the rear.
The draffyd waited a long time before answering Jahrra’s question, and she feared that she had irritated him. When he finally did answer, he did so in a patient but gruff tone, “We are going to the very end of this canyon, where the Sacred Apple Tree grows.”
He stopped and looked around at Jahrra with his eagle eyes. “The tree from which you are to retrieve Denaeh’s apples.”
Then he revealed a very small smile. At least that is what Jahrra thought it looked like. She imagined such a creature either didn't, or couldn’t, smile that often.
“Do not fear, it is not very much farther,” he continued. “We will be there before dark, and then you can make your camp for the night.”
To avoid further interruptions, Cahrume added, “I am sure you all have many questions about what you have seen in this canyon today, from the bizarre stone entrance to the sehnna that surprised you. Have no fear; I’ll answer your questions later. Conversation is very sparse out here and it would be nice to hear news from the outside world as well.”
Jahrra smiled at Cahrume’s comment, for she did have many questions to ask; she just hoped they would reach their destination soon. She didn’t know how much longer they hiked, but eventually the sound of trickling water dominated the relative silence. The air surrounding them had slowly become cooler, and Jahrra shivered with delight. She knew that the temperature change had less to do with the setting sun and more to do with the sudden presence of water somewhere nearby. She leaned over the side of Phrym and looked down at the rocky channel only a few feet below the trail. A small trickle of a stream was flowing down the dry creek bed, leaving a dark trail of moisture in its wake.
Jahrra tried to look past Cahrume, but the canyon took another sharp turn to the north and she couldn’t see where the sudden tributary was coming from. Not until the group was around the next bend did Jahrra spot its source. Up ahead, the ravine widened dramatically and came to an abrupt end. A very tall but narrow waterfall cascaded like liquid silver down a vertical cliff that protruded away from the canyon wall. The cliff was about twenty to thirty feet high and was decorated with ferns and mosses clinging to the water-soaked rock, creating a green band that bordered the fall. Jahrra pulled Phrym to a stop and admired the beautiful waterfall, shuddering from a sudden chill. She looked around and saw that the sun was now only touching the very top sliver of the fall, leaving the canyon painted in a cool, blue shadow.
A few hundred feet ahead of the party there lay a bare patch of sand cutting well into both sides of the canyon floor. The waterfall splashed boldly onto the rocky bottom bellow, its water gathering into a large pool rimmed with small boulders. The precious liquid then slid past the rocks bedecking the creek bed and continued down the gully towards the Oorn Plain.
Cahrume stepped onto the soft, damp sand of the beach. His reptilian feet sunk a few inches into the soil as he turned to face the riders filing in behind him.
“This is Ttuhrmet Falls, and the end of Ehnnit Canyon. Or should I say, this is the beginning. You can camp here for the night. It is quite safe, as long as you keep a fire burning. I will be perched above you.” He nodded his harpy-like head toward the top of the canyon where a great throng of trees stood, flaring green-gold in the late afternoon light. “I will warn you if I sense any danger. But for now, we can enjoy the rest of the day in peace.”
Cahrume whipped his great tail around and settled upon the soft sand like a great, lean lion and watched alertly as the three children began to make camp. Scede glanced at Jahrra with veiled eyes, conveying to her that he wasn’t all that happy with their current situation. Gieaun merely went about the business of unpacking Aimhe, moving mechanically as if in a trance. Neither of her friends had spoken since they’d encountered the draffyd. Jahrra hoped this was because they were too frightened they might annoy the great creature and not because they were angry with her again. They’ll have to say something eventually, she thought, both wishing for that moment and dreading it. She took a deep breath and searched for a way to break the uncomfortable silence.
“Where does the water come from?” she asked aloud, looking up at the top of the fall as she stepped down from Phrym.
Once again the draffyd waited a long time before answering, “The fall was once fed by a spring that flowed freely long, long ago. Now most of the water from that spring is dried up. The water you see today is the last remnants of the snow melt from the eastern mountains.”
Cahrume looked down the twilight-painted canyon with mournful eyes. “It was very different then, in that time now past,” he almost whispered. “When we creatures of myth had nothing to fear.”
Jahrra looked up at the great beast in sympathetic scrutiny. This was not the first time she’d seen someone gazing off into the distance with such a deep and woeful look, as if remembering some great sorrow that had never completely worn off. It made her think of all the ancient fairy tales she knew by heart, and she was starting to wonder if all of these ‘Stories of Old’ held more truth then she had previously thought. Were those stories more than just imaginary tales of brave kings and fierce dragons and the triumph of good over evil? Everyone she knew who seemed nearly as old as Ethoes herself (Hroombra, Yaraa, Viornen, Denaeh, and now this new acquaintance, Cahrume), all of them seemed to be distracted of late by something far away. It was something that happened before this time, at least, that much Jahrra could fathom. She was beginning to realize that perhaps, just perhaps, Hroombra’s and Denaeh’s tales had really taken place in the past, and that her elders may have even played some part in them.