The Awakening Read Online Free PDF Page B

route. Even if the Tyrant’s men marched through Glordienn and Lahnehn kept his word and didn’t tell them of her passing, they could still pick up her trail. But that didn’t help ease her concern over Phrym. If she fell Jaax could always catch her, but if Phrym fell or was attacked . . . She shook her head and moved towards her bedroll, silently packing up for their day of travel.
    By the time the sun reached midway through the sky, Jahrra and Jaax had started noticing the jagged pieces of granite that made up most of the great canyon of the Raenyan. The river itself, so sluggish and good-natured in the western part of Oescienne, had grown narrow and rapid as they moved farther into the mountains.
    Jahrra was grateful she was riding and not walking, for if she didn’t have Phrym to rely on she might have stepped right off the narrow trail and plunged to the river hundreds of feet below her. Although the terrain was rough and treacherous, it was the sights and sounds that had her so distracted: rivulets crossing their path and cascading to the canyon floor, great, gnarled trees clinging for dear life to the granite, and the occasional crack and rumble of rocks breaking away and falling all around them. Twice, a sizeable collection of stones crashed into Jaax, forcing his feet to slip. He slid and scrabbled along the rocky incline, flapping his wings to stay balanced while glancing back at Jahrra at the same time.
    “Stay back!” he shouted as one especially nasty landslide came to an end.
    Jahrra obeyed, fearing he might be swept over the side, but then she remembered all he had to do was spread his wings and soar to another part of the trail. Jaax had told her the only reason he walked at all was to keep an eye on her and to loosen any rocks that might fall and trap her and Phrym against the canyon’s side.
    After the first few slides, Jahrra made a point to be a little more focused on where they were going. Only the occasional emerald angler, it’s long, thread-like tail feathers flashing their blue eyed tips in the sunlight, distracted her long enough to cause any potential harm.
    They made camp that first night right there on the narrow trail, the river rushing far below them and the sheer granite cliff rising for hundreds of feet more above. Jahrra guessed that the canyon was only a couple hundred feet across, and the opposite side was just as steep as their own.
    “You and Phrym will both have to sleep up against me and beneath my wing tonight,” Jaax said as Jahrra watched the setting sun paint patterns on the rocky canyon walls.
    Jahrra simply nodded. She still felt strange about the idea of sleeping so close to Jaax but on this trail, in this place, being tucked in against a dragon was probably the only way to keep from rolling off into space in the middle of the night.
    It took them three more days to make it through the canyon, a trip that would normally take only a day or two if not for the gorge’s treacherous terrain. That next morning dawned cold and bright, the sound of the river an ever present roar reminding them of how very close death could be. The trail grew rockier and less passable as they climbed into the mountains. Jahrra wondered how Jaax managed to keep his footing at all and encouraged Phrym as often as possible as he maneuvered past loose rocks and slick patches of moss, ice and old snow.
    On the third night, Jahrra was torn from her sleep by a horrific cry piercing the darkness. With her heart beating out of her chest, she put a hand out and touched Phrym, a warm mass lying next to her. He let out a quiet, nervous whinny but stayed put.
    “Jaax?” Jahrra hissed when the sound carried through the night again.
    She wiggled her way closer to his elbow and spoke louder through the opening where his wing tucked against his neck.
    “Jaax!”
    The dragon exhaled and turned his head so that he could see her. “What is it?”
    The roar sounded again, closer, reverberating against the canyon