The Legend of Oescienne - The Finding (Book One of the Oescienne Series)

Chapter Twenty-One - The Witch of the Wreing

Copyright (C) 2009 Jenna Elizabeth Johnson

All Rights Reserved

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CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

THE WITCH OF THE WREING

Phrym released a small snort, his breath steaming in the chill air, letting Jahrra know in his own way that he was beginning to have second thoughts about this venture. Jahrra ignored him and surveyed the surrounding scenery, her senses on high alert. She squinted through the dense, gray mist, her heart thudding erratically when she realized the dark blotches against the base of the hills were caves.

Jahrra tightened her fingers around Phrym's reins, her knuckles growing white from the pressure, and tried to stop her mind from imagining what might live in those dark caverns. The cavern entrances themselves made her think of gaping, black mouths crying out in pain, and the ropes of moss clinging and streaming from their edges like the bedraggled beards of men long dead. The very thought sent chills down her spine, and she knew if a witch did live in this dank swamp, she would most definitely reside here.

Jahrra took a deep breath, inhaling the unpleasant scents of sulfur, stale dampness and old ashes. It was eerily quiet here, even more so than the stretch of swamp they had already passed. Nevertheless, Jahrra thought that if she strained her ears enough she might hear the strange whispering of a magical language or the black words of a terrible spell.

After surveying nervously for several minutes, Jahrra looked down at Phrym, trying to gauge his judgment. The semequin must have found the place safe enough after all, for he continued to look straight ahead, almost in curiosity. Strange, she thought, how can he be so calm while I'm ready to turn and bolt?

Terrified but unwilling to give up after coming this far, Jahrra grudgingly eased Phrym forward, her heart rate steadily rising until it pounded in her ears. The pair delicately wove their way around gnarled tree roots and through tangles of vegetation, coming to a stop when they reached the point where the land flattened out and became dry.

From this new vantage point Jahrra was able to see the Belloughs a little more clearly. There was life here, and not just the grim, depressed life she'd come to expect in a place without regular sunlight or fertile soil, but life that had been coaxed and pampered into existence.

Jahrra stopped Phrym and gazed around in wonder at the sight before her. There were strange plants that she'd never seen before, not even in Hroombra's books on botany: leafy plants with crinkled, bruise-purple foliage and woody plants with alien-like flowers. Jahrra was dumbfounded at this discovery. Of all the things she expected to find here, she had not expected to find a garden.