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Authors: Maeve Greyson

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BOOK: Eternity's Mark
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William shook his head with a decided frown. “Nope. Ye heard wrong. She said she thought William was a fine name. She had already called me by my name before she pulled the shell away. I heard her say it before I was born. I remember it now. 'Tis the only way the magic knew 'twas safe to release me into her arms.”
“How are ye supposed to know their names?” Gearlach asked as he looked out across all the remaining eggs.
“Listen to their whispers.” William nodded toward the egg in Taggart's arms. “Can't ye hear him? He's crying out to ye even now.”
Taggart frowned at William, then eyed the rumbling egg in his arms. He didn't hear anything other than scratching and the occasional thump accented with the odd-placed hissing growl. Hitching the egg closer up against his chest, he held his breath and leaned his head closer.
“Nostradamae.”
The whispered growl murmured from the depths of the shell.
“Nostradamae,” Taggart repeated, flinching as he grabbed the cracked edge of the shell and pulled. He braced himself for another painful jolt, but instead found himself nose to nose with a moist, green snout.
The struggling hatchling pushed his head through the membrane of the egg with a pop as the rest of the shell gave way. Nostradamae purred and rubbed his slimy muzzle against Taggart's chin as he clambered the rest of the way out of his shell.
“See? All ye had to do was call his name. Now ye've only got eighteen more to go.” William triumphantly bobbed his head, bouncing excitedly around Taggart.
“William, hush!” Septamus growled, drawing closer to examine the newly hatched young Draecna Taggart held in his arms. “He must also meld with each and every one of them. They must all taste of Taggart's DNA to accelerate to the level of maturity needed.”
“Taste of Taggart's DNA?” William asked. He glanced at the hatchling squirming on Taggart's chest, then tugged on Septamus's wing. “How?”
“I can hear ye both and I don't need the additional step-by-step commentary. I need silence to accomplish this task!” Taggart shot them both a withering glare. Septamus knew better. He was an upper-level Draecna. He had even served in Taggart's mother's court.
Septamus bowed his head in Taggart's direction and silenced William with a thump on the tip of his snout. “Forgive us, Taggart. Please continue your task and we will monitor your progress in the
peace and quiet
you require.”
Rolling the tension out of his shoulders, Taggart assumed his Draecna form. Nostradamae trilled and flapped his damp, little wings, his glowing eyes widening at Taggart's sudden metamorphosis.
“I willna hurt ye little one. Ye will soon be nearly as big as I.” Unsheathing one of his silver-tipped claws, Taggart opened a gash in the center of his left palm. As he held his hand over the hatchling's forehead, he allowed three drops of his blood to fall between Nostradamae's horns in the center of his tiny, wrinkled forehead. Sending up a silent prayer for the melding to work, Taggart placed his right hand firmly atop the little Draecna's head and concentrated his memories of the last seven hundred years. As Taggart's right hand glowed, the blood soaked into the hatchling's hide and disappeared as though it had never been there. Nostradamae's physical size increased over a matter of minutes until he stood nearly as large and muscular as Taggart.
When Taggart broke the connection, the young Draecna opened his eyes. His deep voice rumbled from the depths of his broad, sparkling chest. “I am ready to battle at your side, Father. When do we leave for Erastaed?”
Taggart exhaled. Thank the heavens. The melding worked and no sign of poisoned sanity shone in the Draecna's eyes. The tension in his chest eased a bit as he smiled at the powerful young Draecna in front of him. Then he cast a narrow-eyed glance at the rest of the eggs waiting on the warming platform. “As soon as I awaken the rest of your siblings, Nostradamae, we leave for Erastaed.”
 
At least the floor of this cell caught the warmth of the afternoon sun as it beamed in from the one narrow window overhead. Hannah hugged herself away from what appeared to be a fresh bloodstain splattered across the farthest wall.
Several winged insects buzzed about her head, circling close to her eyes. Flinching, Hannah batted them away from her face. The scent of the blood must be drawing some sort of gnats or flies in through the uncovered window.
“Cease your attack, Lady Guardian. We bring word from Taggart. Ye must not release the hatchling. Your very life depends on it.”
Great. She must be losing her mind. Now she'd started hearing voices. Sitting up straighter, Hannah flattened her back against the wall and stared out into the emptiness of the cell. “Who said that?” Hannah croaked; her throat flinched as she forced the words out of her parched lips.
One of the flies buzzed in her tangled hair. “Taggart sent us to warn you. Do not release the hatchling. You will be safe quite soon.”
Hannah sat very still and prayed what the fly said was true. Her heart pounded so hard it nearly closed off her throat as she swallowed hard to control her excitement. “I already figured out not to release the hatchling. I know once I do, Sloan won't need me anymore. But tell Taggart to hurry up. I can hear the little Draecna constantly scratching. I don't know how much longer she's going to be able to wait. She really wants out of her shell.”
“She?” The fly vibrated near Hannah's ear. “Are ye certain the hatchling is a female?”
Hannah nodded, almost shaking the fly from its spot on her shoulder. “Yes. This one is a female. Her name is Esme. Why do you sound so surprised?” She struggled to tamp down her rising hysteria; she had never realized until now that the buzz of a fly could ever sound surprised.
“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.
BOOK: Eternity's Mark
5.53Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
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