Before she could verbalize her thoughts, however, Jaax spoke up, whispering gently, “Jahrra, we need to mourn Hroombra’s death, I know.”
She could hear him swallow, struggling to keep his voice steady.
“But there is something you need to know, something I must tell you. Please, you have to trust me now.”
“Trust you?” Jahrra shot back, her voice a quivering whisper. “You want me to trust you? Where were you Jaax! Why weren’t you here when those evil men came and attacked Master Hroombra? He is dead Jaax, he’s dead!” Jahrra screamed with rage, her voice worn raw.
She took several short breaths, trying very hard not to break down completely. Jaax merely sat there, taking her harsh words, believing he deserved every last one of them.
Finally, Jahrra spoke again, her voice the smallest of whispers, “He is dead, you came here and caused all of this turmoil, and now he’s gone! Then you ask me to trust you? You who wanted to send me away from my home without even asking my opinion?”
Jaax took a deep breath, gazing sympathetically down at the shattered young woman below him, hoping that he could find the words to comfort her.
“Jahrra,” he began weakly, “you have no idea the danger your life is in now, how Hroombra died to protect you. You must understand, it’s up to me now to keep you safe.”
Jaax wasn’t prepared for Jahrra’s enraged response.
“Who are you to run my life! You’re a stranger to me!” she fired. “That’s all you’ve ever tried to do, and now Master Hroombra is gone! He’s gone! I bet you’re grateful! Now you can make me do anything, can’t you? No old dragon to stand in your way!”
Jahrra collapsed fully against the ground, sobbing loudly, letting years of bottled up sorrow, hurt and anger come out all at once. Phrym moved nervously around, blowing and nickering in distress, worrying about the way his friend was acting.
Jaax understood Jahrra’s anguish more than she realized. He did the only thing he could do for the suffering girl, he stood over her, head bowed, joining in with her pain. Jahrra hated the fact that Jaax was attempting to comfort her, but she was too weary and too weak to run away from him this time.
“Come Jahrra,” he said in a surprisingly compassionate voice once she’d calmed down a little, “there is something you must see, there is something you must understand. Hroombra wanted you to see this, to know this, and we mustn’t waste anymore time, for dark is soon approaching. Come, and we’ll send Hroombra off to the stars when we return.”
Jaax slowly coaxed Jahrra away from Hroombra’s still body. She was upset now, but Denaeh and Hroombra had been right all along. She needed to know the truth of who she was, and the sooner she knew the better. Best to get all of today’s shocks out of the way at once, Jaax thought morosely. He hated leaving Hroombra’s lifeless form lying there, but he had to grant his old friend his last dying wish, and he had to do it before sundown.
Jaax took a breath and turned to Jahrra, who had finally stood up. She was covered in dirt and grime from lying on the ground, and her eyes were red and puffy.
“Perhaps you should ride?” he offered kindly.
Jahrra, numb with shock and slightly dazed from her sudden burst of anger, obeyed without a fight. She still hadn’t fully accepted what had happened, and secretly, she felt the need for a distraction. She reluctantly pulled away from Hroombra’s cold body and dragged herself over to Phrym, using Jaax’s forearm to pull herself into the saddle. Jaax slowly led them through the woods and to the north to where the walls of the Castle Ruin lay waiting, waiting to tell its story.
-Chapter Twenty-
The Words on the Wall
The soil was damp and soft underfoot as dragon, girl and semequin made their way across the rain-swept landscape. They slowly ambled northward, keeping their tumultuous thoughts to themselves. Hroombra’s death had been completely unexpected and the truth of it left Jaax cold and empty. He was overwhelmed with sorrow for the loss of his old friend and mentor, but that wasn’t all that troubled his mind. It was now completely up to him to help Jahrra fulfill her destiny. Hroombra was supposed to be here until the end, the dragon thought grimly. How am I going to do this on my own, without his guidance?
Jaax dropped his head and kept following the winding, overgrown path to the castle. The sun had once again become shrouded with heavy clouds, their cobalt and ash hue painting the world around them in cool colors. Soon the dark walls of the eroded fortress came into view, and Jaax’s heart began to quicken. Suddenly he realized what exactly he would be telling Jahrra in only a few minute’s time. How will she take the truth? What will she do when she learns she isn’t Nesnan like she believed, but human, the only human in Ethoes? he wondered. Hroombra would have done a much better job of telling her than I. Jaax stepped up to the withered façade of the building and then encouraged a very grave Jahrra to tie Phrym up outside.
The young woman obeyed quietly, her mind too bogged down with emotion to argue. Why would anyone want to hurt Master Hroombra? she thought sadly, vacantly following the murmur of Jaax’s voice like someone under hypnosis.
“Jaax,” she said suddenly, her voice sounding lumpy and harsh, “who were those men, those men that . . .”
She couldn’t finish her sentence, and fresh tears sprung to her eyes once again. Jaax answered her unfinished question calmly and patiently.
“They were mercenaries of the Tyrant, or the hired thugs of one of his lords. He has been searching for Hroombra for many years, and he’s been looking for you too, Jahrra.”
Jaax was no longer careful with his words. He didn’t need to be. Jahrra was about to know everything very soon.
Jahrra shot a surprised and watery glance at Jaax.
After a shaky sigh he said, “Don’t worry. I’ve frightened them off for now.”
Jahrra continued to give him a confused gaze, forgetting her anger towards him for the moment. Suddenly, Eydeth’s words from a few days ago came rushing back to her: Do you want to know who that man was? I’ll tell you, he was a mercenary for the Crimson King.
She shivered and turned her eyes away from Jaax, afraid he would see the truth. Had this all been her fault then? Should she have told them earlier about the man from the Fall Festival? Jahrra tried to choke back a sob, but it was no use.
“Why would they be looking for me and Master Hroombra, what did he ever do to deserve this?” she cried.
“Jahrra, whatever you think, you must never think that any of this was your fault.” Jaax locked his eyes with hers, making sure she understood. “Both Hroombra and I took on this responsibility long before you even existed. Any battle against the Crimson King is going to have severe losses. It’s just unfortunate that you’ll ever have to be part of any of them.”
A flash of alarm sparked across Jahrra’s face, changing her expression.
“What on Ethoes are you talking about?” she rasped.
“Come on, I have much to tell you, but first you must hear the story from the walls.”
Jahrra stared at him, more perplexed than ever. Jaax turned and led her through the entrance hall and toward the ancient dining room where she had once stood many years before with Hroombra. The memory brought back the recent pain she was trying very hard to defeat. It was just after her parents’ deaths that her mentor had brought her here, and now she was back, once again after losing someone else that she loved. She would rather not have gone into that ancient dining room, but she didn’t want to be left alone right now, even if it meant being in the company of Jaax. She followed him, and once they were both within the remains of the great hall, he began reading the Krueltish words, translating them into the common language, as if reciting a somber tragedy. Jahrra forced herself to look at the words as he read them, comprehending each and every one of them the way she could not have those many years ago: