“Try me,” Jahrra said seriously.
“No, I don’t think I will. You can just wait until he returns to kill you.”
Jahrra started at the chilling tone of Eydeth’s voice, but she refused to let her mind register what this could mean. Instead, she quickly turned on the attack once again.
“You’re too frightened to tell me, aren’t you? I knew it!” she laughed. “You let a silly fake lake monster scare you away from Lake Ossar, and you allowed me to defeat you in your precious race. You couldn’t handle telling me who that man was; it scares you too much.”
Eydeth had turned to receive his own semequin, but as soon as Jahrra had finished talking he whipped around to face her, almost knocking her down.
“You’re going to be so sorry I told you this Nesnan, but you deserve all the bad luck you can get! Do you really want to know who that man was?” he spat, panic flashing behind his brown eyes. “I’ll tell you. He was a mercenary for the Crimson King. When the moonlight hit his face, I could see the blood rose symbol, the mark of the Tyrant, branded on his cheek. I don’t know what the Crimson King could possibly want with a worthless Nesnan such as yourself, but he won’t stop sending his henchmen until he gets you, so you had better watch your back!”
Eydeth turned and walked aggressively towards the stable where his semequin stood munching oats. Jahrra stood where she was, mute with shock. She knew that this time Eydeth had spoken the truth; she could see it as plainly as she could see the terror distorting his face. The Crimson King? After her? Why? Eydeth was right, she was a worthless Nesnan, what could the Tyrant King possibly need or want her for?
“Maybe,” Jahrra swallowed, her voice almost a whisper as she answered, “maybe he made a mistake.”
Eydeth pulled himself into the saddle of his white stallion and turned to face her, his expression looking grim.
“The Crimson King doesn’t make mistakes. Father has told me enough tales to give you nightmares, Nesnan. If I were you, I’d jump into that precious pond of yours and end it now.”
Eydeth dug his heals into his semequin and took off, galloping to the north.
Jahrra shivered as a cold breeze drifted by. The schoolyard was empty and the sun was dipping lower into the sky. She wondered if anyone had witnessed her encounter with Eydeth, but she guessed everyone had cleared out long ago. She quickly saddled Phrym, threw on her jacket and headed home. As Phrym galloped across the chilled countryside, Jahrra tried furiously to make sense of what Eydeth had just said. She wondered if she should finally tell Hroombra about what had happened that night in Lensterans, but that would mean telling Jaax, too.
She slowed Phrym to an easy walk and pulled her jacket more tightly around herself as they moved past the outskirts of Aldehren. Even if Eydeth was telling the truth, which I’m sure he isn’t, that mercenary couldn’t possibly be after me. He made a mistake and is most likely somewhere far away searching for someone else. Eydeth is only trying to scare me, as usual. Well, I won’t let him. Jahrra reluctantly took her own advice and put the thought as far from her mind as she could. I don’t need to tell anyone. Nothing bad happened, and nothing bad will happen.
Phrym rounded the last bend of the road leading up the Sloping Hill just as the sun touched the horizon. Once they reached the stable, Jahrra hurriedly got her semequin ready for the night, covering him with a blanket and giving him extra oats before walking back to the Castle Guard Ruin in the early twilight. She clasped her arms around herself, trying to keep the cold at bay, glad that tomorrow was the weekend and hoping that it would be a better day.
Jahrra stepped through the doorway of her home only to find Hroombra at his massive desk looking through a mountain of maps. She smiled and wondered if she would ever find him anywhere else when she got home. She walked past him and took her coat off to hang it by the fireplace on the opposite end of the room, stopping in midstride before she got there. Jaax was lying ever so proudly in front of a blazing fire reading an ancient, disintegrated tome. Jahrra didn’t recognize it, but then again, she had never looked too closely at any of Hroombra’s private books without permission. She let out a short, aggravated snort. All she wanted to do was get to her room so she could rest in peace, but there was no way she would be able to sneak past Jaax without his noticing her.
“Well,” he said, looking Jahrra over with his calculating eyes, “where have you been? You should’ve been home at least two hours ago.”
“Uh,” Jahrra found it very hard to lie to this dragon. She had a distinct feeling that he could read her mind just as Denaeh could, but he was more brutal about it. She did her best, however. “I got caught up after classes. Kihna and her sisters wanted to talk about getting a study group together for final exams before graduation.”
Jahrra cringed inwardly. Exams were months off, but it was the best lie she could come up with in such a short amount of time. Jaax seemed to accept this answer, but he only smiled smugly and replied, “I see. One can never start preparing for such things too early.”
He went back to his reading and Jahrra glowered. Does that mean you think I need all the help I can get!? she wanted to shout out, but under the circumstances, she thought that wouldn’t be such a good idea. She settled with the task of carrying her jacket over the space that was between her and the hook on the wall beside the fireplace. As she went to hang her jacket, something small and hard fell out of the pocket and clanked upon the stone floor. Jaax immediately looked up from his reading and eyed the object curiously. Jahrra realized, with sudden horror, that it was the compass she’d found at the coves last year. She had taken it out recently to see how well it worked on the way to school and had forgotten to put it away.
Jahrra dove for it, but Jaax stopped her by holding out his great forearm.
“Wait. What is that?”
The sudden shock of seeing the compass, which should have been tucked away behind the stone in her wall, made it impossible for Jahrra to come up with a good excuse. She knew that she couldn’t lie this time, so she reluctantly picked up the compass and moved closer to him. Indignantly, she thrust her hand towards the dragon with the old instrument facing upward. Jaax peered at it in the dim firelight, and suddenly, without warning, something flared up within his emerald eyes. Jahrra saw the reaction, and cautiously backed away. She had never seen that look cross this dragon’s face ever before.
“Hroombra!” Jaax breathed harshly. “Come here!”
If Jahrra hadn’t known any better, she would’ve said that Jaax was trying very hard not to panic or cry out in exaltation. She couldn’t tell which he was feeling.
Hroombra looked up from his scrolls, acting as if he hadn’t heard the last five minutes of conversation that had occurred between his young ward and the other dragon. “What is it?” he said lightly, eyebrows arched above his reading glasses.
“Come and see what Jahrra had in her pocket.”
The voice was calmer, but Jahrra could sense a glimmer of apprehension. She stood there, burning with annoyance, confusion and even fear. How would she explain where she got the compass, and why had Jaax reacted the way he had? She would have to tell them about the Ninth Cove, there was no way around it. She inwardly kicked herself for keeping her compass in such an accessible place. Why didn’t I just put it away the other day?
Hroombra got up and slowly walked over to where Jaax sat and Jahrra stood. He peered down at the compass just as Jaax had, and as soon as he saw it, the look in his eyes changed from sleepy astuteness to flashing awareness. He jerked his head up at Jaax in disbelief.