“Another female isn’t due to be born for at least several hundred years. Most hatchlings are male. It’s the way of the Draecna, Lady Guardian. ’Tis verra complicated.”
Hannah closed her eyes and leaned her head against the wall. Great. This news must not be good. She wished Taggart had given her a handbook on Draecna lore. It seemed like every time she turned around, she found another tidbit she should’ve known. “Okay, I’ll bite. Why are Draecna females so rare? And is this a good thing or a bad thing?” She dreaded the fly’s answer. She had a niggling suspicion that a Draecna female hatching right now wouldn’t be a good thing.
The fly fluttered its wings and rubbed its forelegs together as it repositioned itself on a strand of Hannah’s hair. “Draecna females have the power of bringing forth new life and bestowing the gift of immortality to humans. Their mystical powers are much greater than those of the Draecna males. Female Draecna are truly precious indeed.”
“That’s just great. So, I’ve not only got to keep Esme in her egg to save my life, but we’ve got to keep her out of Sloan’s hands to keep him from becoming immortal. Is that what you’re telling me?” Dropping her head forward into her hands, Hannah dislodged the fly. Lack of sleep and spoiled and meager food had her head throbbing like a fiend. She couldn’t think straight, couldn’t function. When would this nightmare end?
Buzzing around her head, the fly whizzed close to her ear. “Keep the female in her egg. Taggart storms Tiersa Deun soon. I will tell him her time nears and the news that the hatchling is a female. Ye must stay strong, Lady Guardian. Ye must not give up hope.”
“This cannot be real,” Hannah muttered into the darkness of her arms as she cradled her pounding head. She’d thought Grandma’s stories were just weird fairy tales. Apparently, she should’ve been taking notes about those magical creatures resembling the mythical dragons. It might’ve prepared her for a lover who turned into a hybrid-mix of one of those mystical beings. If she’d listened more closely, she might’ve known what to do when she found herself imprisoned in a strange new world.
Squeezing her eyes hard against the threat of stinging tears, Hannah choked back the aching knot in her throat. “Why didn’t you tell me the truth, Grandma? Why didn’t you make it more clear what you were trying to teach me?”
The cell door swung aside with a clattering bang and Corter slapped his iron hoop of keys against the wall. “Wake up! The egg is cracking, but Sloan says somethin’ is wrong. Get yer ass in gear!”
Now what was she going to do? A wave of nausea burned the bile up into her throat; a cold sweat trickled down her spine. Pulling herself up from the floor, she searched her memories for all the tales her Grandmother had ever told her. She frantically tried to remember everything Taggart had said. There had to be something to delay Esme’s hatching. Stumbling as she pushed herself up on her trembling limbs, Hannah came up blank. There had to be something. What had she missed?
“Come on! What the hell’s the matter with ye? Ye’d think ye’d be ready for this to be over. Ye may as well quit yer stallin’. Look at it this way, once we kills ye, ye ain’t gonna be in these here cells no more.” Corter grabbed her by the arm and shoved her into the hall.
“Do not touch her like that again, Corter!” Mia snapped from farther down the corridor. “Until the hatchling is released, the guardian is not to be harmed. Remember Sloan’s words. I do not wish to be tortured just because ye canna control your actions with the woman.”
“I didna hurt her,” Corter snapped. “Did I hurt ye?” He pushed Hannah toward Mia, who awaited them at the great arched doorway.
“Let’s just get on with it,” Hannah sighed. What was that old saying? If she knew then what she knew now? If only she’d known Mia was that cute little kitten, she would’ve snatched her up by the scruff of her neck and fed her to Gearlach.
“Get her in here now or I shall be forced to destroy the lot of ye!” Sloan’s bellow echoed out into the hall from beyond the opened doorway.
As soon as Hannah entered the room, she sensed it wasn’t good. The egg illuminated the entire room; its rosy internal life-beat heightened to a frenzied glow. Trailing up the midline of the egg crawled a series of ever widening hairline cracks. As Hannah concentrated on the pulsating aura emanating from the center of the watermelon-size egg, her heart fell as the crackling started to spread.
“The beast struggles. The cracks grow, but then they recede, and every time I touch it the wicked little bastard electrocutes me.” Sloan extended the blackened fingertips of his swollen right hand and nodded toward the egg. “Release the beast, lest it dies. If the hatchling dies ...” Sloan whirled on Hannah with a piercing glare. “So do you.”
Taking a deep breath, Hannah avoided Sloan’s gaze and concentrated on the egg. She couldn’t allow Esme to hatch. Studying the egg, she wondered how well her gift of communicating would work when she was under so much stress. She had spoken to William before he’d hatched. He’d heard her words without any problem. She had to communicate to Esme and convince her to stay inside her shell.
Esme. Please be still and listen. With a glance at Sloan, she placed her hands on the egg. He needed to think she was trying to help Esme hatch.
Closing her eyes, Hannah cleared her mind and concentrated on the young hatchling she could already hear fussing in her head.
“Help me toss the shell aside, dearest Guardian. It is so very stubborn!”
“Esme, I need you to stay in your shell a few days longer. These people are evil and it’s not safe for you to come into the world just yet. You need to wait until Taggart and the other Draecna arrive to rescue us.”
“I’m afraid that’s not possible. I have waited to hatch for over three hundred years. I am truly ready. Please, Guardian. Please help me emerge into the wondrous world.”
“Esme, it’s not safe. Please try to understand. These people stole your egg. You are not in the safety of Taroc Na Mor. They want to control you and make you their slave. Please stay inside your shell just a little longer. Taggart is coming to save us both, and then I promise you can come out.”
“I can wait but three days more, Guardian. I can wait no longer.”
“It may take longer, Esme. I’ll let you know when it’s safe to come out. Please promise me you’ll wait until I tell you it’s safe to emerge.”
“Three days is all we have left, Guardian. After that time, I shall die.”
Hannah swallowed hard, smoothing her hands across the warm egg, relieved to see the cracking shell smooth over and seal itself shut. Esme would wait the allotted three days. Taggart better hurry.
“What the hell did you do?” Knocking Hannah out of the way, Sloan bent to examine the now flawless shell.
Hannah held her breath as she cringed on the floor. Sloan’s face flushed to a decided shade of enraged purple. As he turned from his perusal of his precious egg, his hands clenched into shaking fists as he loomed closer to Hannah’s face.
Hannah skittered backwards away from Sloan until she bumped into the corner. “It wasn’t time. If the hatchling had come out now, he would’ve died,” she lied. She kept her eyes wide, hoping Sloan would believe her. She’d never been good at telling tales.
“You lie!” Sloan accused through tightly clenched teeth. “I see it in your eyes!”
“No!” Hannah shouted, ducking her head. “That’s why the egg shocked you so badly whenever you touched it. The shell was damaged and needed to be healed.” God, she hoped he’d buy that lie. Since he hadn’t seemed to have known why the shell had zapped him, maybe he would buy her story.
Sloan paused, his eyes narrowed as he studied Hannah’s face. Turning to Mia, he jerked his chin toward Hannah. “Is the bitch telling the truth or not? Ye know Draecna lore better then I.”
Mia shifted her gaze first to Hannah, then to the egg, then back to Sloan’s enraged face. Tightening her thin lips in her pale, drawn face, she gave a regal nod of her head. “The guardian knows all things when it comes to
the hatchlings. I watched her with a young one at Taroc Na Mor. While I detest her, ye had best heed her words on the health and well-being of the young one.”
“When?” Sloan spit, yanking Hannah up from the floor. “When?” he repeated, sinking his sharp nails deep into the flesh of her upper arm and twisting until Hannah dropped to her knees.
“Three days,” Hannah gasped as spots flashed in front of her eyes from the pain ripping through her shoulder. That wasn’t a lie. One way or another, three days was all the time Esme had given her and Taggart to make something happen.
Throwing her into Corter’s greasy chest, Sloan barked, “Bring her back to me in three days’ time.”
“A female?” Taggart worried his hand through his hair. A female Draecna complicated matters tenfold. “Are ye certain she said the hatchling was a female?”
“She was quite clear, my prince. She said the female’s name was Esme.”
“Septamus!”
“I heard him. Stop bellowing. Do ye wish to announce our presence to everyone in Erastaed?” Septamus wrestled his snout through the narrow opening of the tent and shoved his way through the canvas flap. “By the way, how the hell do ye expect to fit inside this infernal thing when ye assume your Draecna form? I have to hunch over just to keep my horns from snagging the rigging and yanking down the poles.”
“Septamus, ye’ve done nothing but complain ever since we crossed the threshold and led the Draecna through the pass at Ruarke Ridge. Can ye no’ survive beyond the walls of the nursery? Can ye no longer stomach the mountains of Erastaed?”
Septamus huffed two clouds of blackened smoke as he yanked his horns free of the lines holding the canvas tent tight between the shining black poles. “Mind your tongue, ye rash hybrid. Ye know as well as I, ’twould be much more efficient to campaign across Erastaed with equipment well-fitted to the size of a full-blooded Draecna rather than a puny human.”
Waving away his words, Taggart continued studying the map draped across the table and ran his fingers along a jagged blue line. “Once I assume my Draecna form, we won’t be returning to this infernal camp overlooking Sloan’s keep.”
“The flies say they keep her in the death cells and relocate her to a new one at the stroke of the killing hour. They are not able to tell us the location of the egg. But I am certain Sloan keeps it with him in his chambers.” Septamus peeled back the map to show a detailed schematic of Tiersa Deun and tapped his claw on a highlighted wing. “And ye realize when ye steal them both out from under his nose, your brother will not be satisfied until he sees ye both dead.”
“The death cells,” Taggart hissed. Hannah was interred in the bowels of Tiersa Deun, the same place where Sloan tortured his prisoners for his own amusement until death brought them merciful release. “I think ’tis time Erastaed had a cleansing. This time, I willna go quietly to another world.”
Septamus responded with a single nod of his gray horned head. “I will spread the word. I am sure there will be many ready to join us. Ye have had centuries of followers waiting for ye to decide to reclaim your throne.”
Taggart ripped aside the tent flap and stormed to the edge of the cliff overlooking the densely wooded gorge hiding the fortress of Tiersa Deun. He glared out across the mist-covered landscape, the purple-hazed mountains, and the jagged, unforgiving terrain. A mournful howl trebled across the barren vista. Home. What a mockery of the word. He snorted; his breath fogged in the chill of the evening air.
Humiliated at the altar, stripped of his birthright, and forced to watch everything he loved destroyed. How could he think of Erastaed as home? A cold, bitter wind whipped at his back as though trying to shove him even closer to the painful memories. The sea lay just a few miles to the west of the gorge. The stench of rotted fish hung heavy in the air. Taggart rubbed his hand across his face. Sloan had hunted to extinction the graceful blue terns that kept the beaches picked clean of any carrion. He said their early-morning keening annoyed him whenever he tried to sleep.
“Taggart! Where are you?”
Gooseflesh shivered the hair straight up on the back of his neck. Taggart whirled and scanned the grove of gently swaying trees behind him. He had clearly heard Hannah’s voice.
“Hannah! Hannah, where are ye?”
The first of twin Erastaedian moons swelled full in the early evening sky. Whisps of clouds raced across its mottled surface, streaming through its eerie light. The blue white sentinel illuminated the encampment almost as brightly as a burning torch.
“Taggart, please ... please tell me you can hear me.”
Looking up into the brilliant light of the swollen moon, Taggart realized he heard Hannah’s thoughts. “Hannah! I hear ye. Are ye looking at the moonlight? If ye are, ye must not look away or we will surely lose the connection.”
“Yes! It’s shining into my cell. Please, you’ve got to hurry and save us. Esme only has three days and then she’s going to die if she doesn’t hatch. I’ll have to release her in three days. I can’t allow her to die.”
Only three days? Taggart’s wind expelled from his chest as though Hannah had sucker-punched him.
“Taggart. Did you hear me? Are you still there?”
“Hannah. I will come for ye, I swear. Ye must not give up hope, my love. Promise me ye’ll not release the hatchling. I give ye my oath, I will be there in time.” Taggart paced along the edge of the cliff, kicking at the clumps of dried grass. Hannah mustn’t free the young Draecna from its egg. As soon as she did, Sloan would kill her. “Hannah, promise me?”
Nothing but silence echoed across the ridge as the wind smothered the glowing beacon of the night with a blanket of impenetrable clouds.
CHAPTER NINE
“And on the third day, she brought the hatchling forth and then was relieved of her head.” Sloan chuckled as he clicked his blackened nails together beneath his silvered goatee.
Her hands behind her back, Hannah held her breath as she peered at the egg. Esme lay coiled tight as a spring, more than ready to emerge. Hannah sensed the impatient young female knew what day had arrived and longed for Hannah’s touch.
“I will protect ye, Guardian. I have been listening to the evil ones. I know exactly what to do.”
Hannah swallowed hard and reminded herself to breathe as she rubbed her hands together. She appreciated Esme’s bravado, but she remembered her precious little William and couldn’t imagine an immature young Draecna protecting much of anything. “Protect yourself, Esme. You don’t have a flame since you’re a young one. As soon as you hatch, I want you to run and find someplace to hide. Promise me you’ll run as fast as you can. Don’t worry about me. I’ll try to distract them so you can get away.”
A warm, comforting giggle erupted through Hannah’s mind, perfectly matching the pulsating glow emitting from the egg. “Females are born fully matured with complete knowledge and control of all Draecna powers, dear Guardian. It is the silly males who require all the patience and training because they are so immature.”
“Well, score one for the females,” Hannah muttered under her breath. Maybe that would level the playing field just a little.
“What did you say?” Sloan rose from his chair and clamped a hand on her shoulder.
“Do you want me to hatch the egg or not?” Hannah flinched as Sloan’s nails dug into her flesh. She hoped Esme fried him to a crispy crunch but used a nice slow flame when she did it. “I have to call the hatchling out of the egg. Now, if you’ll step back, I’ll get on with it.”
With a narrow-eyed glare, Sloan lifted his hand and retreated half a step. Folding his arms across his chest, he jerked his chin in the direction of the egg.
“It’s showtime, Esme,” Hannah whispered. “Are you ready?”
The shell splintered into a thousand fiery cracks, blinding light rays shot out from the interior of the egg. A roaring wind filled the room as pieces of shell exploded away. A darkened form inside the whirling light unfurled, stretched, and uncurled, filling the room. The egg pe
destal groaned beneath the weight of the expanding Draecna. The structure collapsed beneath Esme’s feet and crumbled to dust beneath her full-grown form.
“By all that is holy, the hatchling is a female.” Mia edged her way behind a marble likeness of Sloan reclining on his favorite chaise lounge.
Sloan eased a few steps back and placed the bug-eyed Corter between himself and the glowering, newly hatched Draecna. “Ye will never escape Tiersa Deun. The magical wards will kill ye both as soon as ye pass between them.”
“Order them disabled, Sloan of Cair Orlandis, or feel the heat of my very first blaze.” Esme widened her great, golden eyes and bent her iridescent, blue head closer to his face.
The room shook as a blast echoed beyond the door. Masonry dust and chunks of gaudy painted plaster spattered loose from the vaulted ceiling and rained down all around them. Alarms sounded. High-pitched sirens pealed through the air as more explosions followed.
Hannah stumbled against Esme’s side, dodging flying debris as bits of stone and marble whizzed past her head. Choking on the dust, Hannah held tight to the edge of Esme’s wing. Taggart. It had to be Taggart and his army; Hannah’s heart soared.
“If ye let them take either one of them, I will impale ye in the center courtyard and let the dogs rip out your entrails while ye’re still alive to watch them.” Sloan shoved Corter through the rubble toward a doorway beside his settee. “Release the Waerins. Taggart willna’ expect an army of those beasts.”
“Come on, Esme. It’s time to go.” Hannah tugged on the Draecna wing and motioned toward a gaping hole in the wall. More blasts shook through the building and rattled the foundation under Hannah’s feet.
“If ye take one more step ...” Sloan started toward her only to come up short as a wall of flames spread across his path.
“Very impressive.” Hannah smiled up at Esme. “You’re going to be able to teach Gearlach quite a bit about control. Did you fry him or just delay him?”
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