Scede was next, exchanging a small wooden flute he carried for one of the rings in the bag. Gieaun was reluctant at first, but her curiosity overcame her trepidation and she swapped one of her shell bracelets for one of the pirate’s beaded ones. Rhudedth was too frightened to exchange anything, and that only left Jahrra. She didn’t have much to trade with, but she did have her small pouch she kept keepsakes in, and she did have her journal. She pulled out her tiny bag and removed the blue-green stone she had collected from Ehnnit Canyon. She picked up another rock in the cave and slammed it against her own. Gieaun and Rhudedth gasped as a chunk of the azure rock went scattering across the floor, echoing eerily against the concave walls. She then removed the round disc-shaped object from the left hand of the skeleton and replaced it with the chunk of stone she’d broken off. She didn’t look at the object at first; she just stuck it in her pocket for later.
Jahrra blinked hard a couple of times to clear her suddenly foggy mind, pulling out her journal from the small bag she’d brought along. She slowly began removing the book from the dead man’s grasp.
“Jahrra! You wouldn’t leave your journal,” Gieaun hissed. “That’s one of your most valued treasures!”
There was a strange crackling sound as she worked the fragile book free and everyone let out a breath as it finally came loose.
“Don’t worry,” Jahrra added once she had the book in her hands. “I’m only going to borrow his book for a moment, and then give it back.”
She carefully opened the dead man’s book, then her own journal, and began jotting down the words that appeared in the old tattered manuscript. The writing looked almost like Kruelt, but much more primitive, more like the runes she’d seen in Ehnnit Canyon. Every page was covered in an abundance of words, maps or small sketches of various objects.
As she wrote, Jahrra found herself pausing many times to admire the intricate drawings, wondering what they meant and why this person had drawn them. She even saw a rough sketching of the Baherhb, the symbol of the dragons that Hroombra had once shown her. Like the runes she’d copied from Ehnnit Canyon, she hoped that maybe he could translate it for her someday. That is, if she ever got up the courage to tell him why she had strange runes written in her journal and where she had seen them in the first place. Jahrra quickly finished her work, wishing she could copy it all down, but it was well past noon and they needed to start heading back to the other cove.
Scede led the way to the opening of the cave and started climbing down, followed by Gieaun and Rhudedth, and then Mahryn and Pahrdh. When Jahrra reached the mouth of the cave, she paused for a moment and reached for the object that had settled heavily in her pocket. It was a very beautifully crafted compass, set in a dark red stone with a carving of some type of intricate flower on the back. The facing was polished glass, and beneath it sat a surface of mother of pearl. The arrow of the compass was crafted out of very delicate silver, with the initials of the ancient directions etched in and darkened: A, Alva for north, H, Hwyn for west, D, Dein for south and R, Rho for east.
Jahrra tightened her hand around the treasure, believing that it was more valuable than any of the other items they had found. She checked to see if the compass was in working order as she walked out onto the first step and into the bright mid-afternoon light, smiling widely when the silver arrow spun around to show the proper direction.
Once the group had climbed back down the stairs and through the natural bridge, Jahrra looked back one last time and remarked in a quiet voice, “The Ninth Cove, the Hidden Cove.”
The six friends hurried back to the other beach, eager to get away from the eerie and discomfiting scene they had just witnessed. They passed the waterfall once again, grinning and screeching as they dashed through the cool water.
Their laughter was cut short, however, when they spotted something at the end of the beach. Scede was the first to see them, stopping abruptly in shock. Gieaun and Rhudedth walked right into him.
“Scede!” Gieaun fumed, rubbing her shoulder. “What are you doing? Why did you . . .”
But Gieaun stopped her complaint after following her brother’s eyes to the far end of the shore. A horse and rider had just finished climbing down the perilous path and were now standing at the base of the cliff, waiting patiently for the group as they slowly meandered toward the foot of the trail.
Jahrra eventually glanced up to see what all of her friends were staring at, her smile fading fast when she saw their visitor. The horse looked like a semequin, snow white in color, not as tall as Phrym, but still more regal than any common horse she had ever seen. .Jahrra’s heart almost stopped when she glanced up at the rider, a boy about her age with a sneer on his face. The young man, finely dressed in his mustard riding attire, complete with a hat, cloak and gloves, led his semequin towards the group.
That smug little . . . ugh! Jahrra felt the fire flare up in her own eyes. What is he doing here? How is it he always manages to show up and ruin the day, no matter how remote or unlikely? she wondered in desperate frustration. There was nowhere, it seemed, for her to escape from Eydeth.
“What are you doing here?” It was Gieaun who asked the question everyone was thinking. She had good reason, too. This was the last place Jahrra would think to run into the twins. She knew that Eydeth wasn’t as nervous as he used to be about being around her since Sobledthe Eve, but she didn’t think he was ready to return to his normal routine of harassing her.
“Oh, just surveying this part of Oescienne,” Eydeth drawled, sitting back comfortably in his expensive saddle and waving his hand around like a wilting prince.
Scede narrowed his eyes and looked up at their enemy.
“Surveying this part of Oescienne? What business could you possibly have here? Since when have you cared about the terrain and wilds of Oescienne? Aren’t you afraid you are going to get your clothes dirty?”
Scede’s observation would usually bring about a few laughs, but no one felt particularly humored at the moment.
Eydeth simply looked down his nose at Scede. “Anyone hanging around a Nesnan is likely to become filthy. Luckily, that’s not my business here.”
Eydeth didn’t even have the courtesy to nod in Jahrra’s direction, but she didn’t care. The more Eydeth avoided her, the better. But Mahryn hadn’t liked Eydeth’s remark at all. He glanced over at Jahrra, noticed the look of pure hatred on her face, and burst out, “Why is it that you insist on belittling those around you?”
Everyone started, surprised to hear such harsh words from the usually bashful Mahryn.
“If we are so worthless, why do you even make the effort to come all the way out here just to mock us? In fact, I’m a little embarrassed for you. What would your family say? I would think they would be ashamed that one of their own is not off bettering himself by taking etiquette classes or learning eloquent speech.”
Jahrra stared at him with her mouth hanging open in shock. That was the most she’d ever heard Mahryn say at once. She couldn’t help smiling with appreciation as the freckled boy crossed his arms and gave Eydeth a stern look of victory, his cheeks still flushed from his tirade.
Everyone fought the urge to burst out laughing, despite the look on Eydeth’s face. He began to turn pink, but the bright yellow brim of his hat reflecting on his face made him look more orange than anything else. Jahrra wondered if he had even understood what Mahryn had said to him.