“Jahrra! Wake up!”
She could hear a distant voice calling, cutting through the sound of her racing heart and the loud rush of terror in her ears. Jahrra was crying by now, sobbing in anger and fear and helplessness.
“Jahrra!”
The voice sounded closer, and she could feel someone holding her hand and shaking her gently.
“Wake up, you’re having a nightmare!”
Jahrra’s eyes suddenly flew open and she saw Denaeh standing above her with her hand pressed against her forehead. It was the Mystic who was holding her hand, trying to bring her back to the world of the conscious. Jahrra was breathing heavily and she could feel a cold sweat coating her body. Quickly, like a memory flashing past the corner of her mind, the images of her dream faded, and she drifted awake.
“Are you alright?” Denaeh repeated, concern etched deep within those yellow eyes of hers. Her hand was gone from Jahrra’s forehead but the other she used to pull the panicked girl up into a sitting position.
Both Gieaun and Scede looked on in concern as Jahrra slowly let her mind settle.
“Wh-what happened?” she asked between raspy breaths.
“We woke up when Denaeh started yelling at you,” Scede answered timidly. “You looked like you were having a bad dream.”
“I guess I should refrain from ghost stories before bed then,” Denaeh said with a quirky smile.
This made Jahrra feel a little better, and she did her best to make her friends believe that it had been the memory of their attack she’d been dreaming about and not something else.
“We still have several hours before dawn, so if I were you, I’d try and get back to sleep,” Denaeh said after Jahrra’s terror had passed. “Do you think you can manage?”
“Yeah, I’ll just think about owls.” She grinned.
Everyone smiled and soon the cave was quiet once again, only the occasional pop of a hot coal or the whistling of the rain-soaked wind pitching around in the world outside to disturb them.
As Jahrra listened to the rhythmic sound of the storm, she thought furiously about the dream she’d just had. No one else had ever entered her dream like that. Who was this new person? Why did they want to reveal the identity of the green-cloaked man so badly? And most importantly, why did Jahrra care either way? It was just a dream, right? she asked herself. Just a dream, just a dream . . . she repeated in her mind as the warm coals and patter of rain soothed her back to sleep.
-Chapter Nine-
Runes, Riddles and Days by the Shore
The weeks following the trip to Ehnnit Canyon proved to be a bit unsettling in Jahrra’s opinion. Not only was she still disturbed by what she’d experienced and what she had seen in her dream at the Belloughs, but she had Hroombra’s heated mood to contend with. Jahrra and her friends had arrived at the Castle Guard Ruin a day later than planned, only to find the great dragon waiting for them. As soon as she spotted his gray figure lumbering across the field to confront her, Jahrra had known she’d finally taken her sense of freedom one step too far. Never had she seen her guardian looking so angry.
“Where have you been?” he growled. “You three were supposed to be back yesterday. I thought something horrible had happened.”
The many wrinkles on Hroombra’s face looked deeper than ever and his eyes were sharp with overwhelming relief. Jahrra felt a bubble of remorse welling up inside of her, but she wasn’t about to tell him she had safely spent the night in the Black Swamp.
“We were late getting into the Longuinn Valley,” she muttered, “so we camped on the edge of the wetlands last night and made our way very early this morning. We’re sorry, but we didn’t want to get caught on the road through the Wreing Florenn after dark.”
Jahrra looked up with her eyes drowning in shame and saw that it wasn’t just relief and anger lurking in her mentor’s eyes, but acute terror.
“Thank Ethoes,” he breathed, his tone lightening just a little. Once his composure returned, he took a deep breath and continued in a more subdued tone, “School starts back up in a few days, so you had better get inside and start studying. You have exams coming up.”
“In four months!” Jahrra exclaimed.
“Yes, but you have other lessons to consider. The Fall Festival will be here before you know it and you’ll be wanting to go to Gieaun’s and Scede’s for a sleepover.”
Jahrra glanced over at her friends and they shrugged, looking as confused as she.
Hroombra smiled broadly and addressed the two siblings, “Your mother and father came over yesterday inquiring where you were. They said if you all came back alive there would be a party at your house. But I would head on home if I were you, just in case they decide to change their minds.”
Gieaun and Scede waved goodbye to Jahrra as they trotted their horses over the hill and headed for home. Scede’s leg was much better this morning, but it would still be sore for quite some time, and the bruising would be bad. Jahrra chose not to tell Hroombra about the attack. She knew she should, but it would only upset him. She took a deep breath and unpacked everything she would be taking into her room, leading Phrym across the open space to his stable when she was done.
The sloping pasture was now nothing more than a sea of golden brown straw, folded like frosting on a cake from the wind and rain that had passed through the night before. A few late blossoming flowers added some color to the drab surroundings, but everything else, except for the evergreens of course, had begun their autumn change, turning gold, brown, red and orange.
After she rubbed Phrym down and fed him, Jahrra headed back to the Ruin to put her camping gear away. She knew she should take out her books and practice the recent Krueltish words Hroombra had given her the week before, but she had a sudden urge to make the large sitting room more welcoming. She went out and picked the last remaining flowers in her garden and put them in an old milk jug and placed them upon Hroombra’s massive desk.
Jahrra fixed herself something to eat and plopped down in front of the large fire that Hroombra had lit for the cooling night. As the dragon looked over his endless scrolls, Jahrra sat lying in the warm heat, leafing through her books. Only, her mind wasn’t focused on Draggish, it was pondering what she’d seen and heard during the past few days. She wished she could confront Hroombra with these questions, but she knew he’d be furious about everything she’d ever kept secret from him, and she still wasn’t sure his irritation at her late arrival from her camping trip had completely diminished. She would have to explain why she went to Ehnnit Canyon in the first place, and then she would have to tell him about Denaeh.
Jahrra didn’t know why, but she got the feeling that Hroombra wouldn’t approve of her enigmatic acquaintance. So instead of voicing her thoughts aloud, she daydreamed about what everything might have meant: What did those runes say in the canyon entrance? What more did Cahrume know that he didn’t tell us? What kind of magic is trapped in the wood charm bracelet from Yaraa and Viornen? What were those horrible wolves and why didn’t Denaeh believe us about the unicorn? Who was the red hooded figure in my dream?
Jahrra sighed as she tossed these thoughts around her mind like pebbles jostled in a turbulent stream. After an hour of exhausting thought, she gave up and made her way to bed. In a few days she would be back in school with the evil Resai twins, and the very idea of being around them again was tiring enough. I’ll just try to focus on schoolwork, she thought. Perhaps that will get me through until exams.