Authors: Maeve Greyson

Eternity's Mark (23 page)

BOOK: Eternity's Mark

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“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.

C
HAPTER
N
INE

“A
nd 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 pedestal 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?”

With a slow turn of her graceful, horned head, Esme urged Hannah toward the opening in the wall with the tip of her tail. “A Draecna does not take a life unless absolutely necessary. There is a history to be settled between Sloan and his brother. If I killed him, it would leave loose ends for Taggart. It is not my battle to fight.”

Pausing to peer one last time into the cloud filled room, Hannah fell back against the pile of rubble when she spotted Mia's crushed body trapped beneath a collapsed column. Closing her eyes against the gruesome carnage, Hannah shuddered and swallowed hard. Apparently, Mia's karma came back to bite her with a vengeance.

“We must find Taggart, Guardian. The Waerin are a cruel and vicious entity that are difficult to overcome.” Esme nudged Hannah once again as another blast rattled around them.

Hannah scrambled over the loose stones and paused, glancing up and down the passage. This hallway differed from any of the others she'd seen. The slate flooring that wasn't destroyed or covered with debris appeared to have plush, red carpeting running down the center.

“This looks like an entry hall. Which way do you think we should go?”

Cocking her head, Esme spread her leathery wings and stretched her graceful neck closer to the ceiling. “That way,” she murmured, nodding in the direction of several grotesque golden statues lined in front of mirrored panels along the wall.

As a blast shattered the walls, the end of the hallway disappeared into a cloud of billowing debris. Waving the dust out of her eyes, Hannah coughed and forged ahead. She barely made out the dark outline of several forms edging toward them through the cloud. “Esme, can you see who or what that is up ahead? I can't make out a thing.” Her eyes burned, her chest tightened as the air thickened with exploding debris.

“Hannah!”

She'd know that voice anywhere. Taggart! Relief thrilled through her body, electrifying all her senses. Hannah rushed to claw her way across the rubble.

“No, Guardian!” Esme blocked Hannah with her wing and seared the hallway with a blast of scorching flames.

“What are you doing?” Hannah pounded on Esme's heaving side. “Esme, stop! It's Taggart and the other Draecna.”

Esme ignored Hannah and increased the intensity of the blaze to a white-hot inferno until the high-pitched shrieks faded into silence.

Hannah fell to her knees as Esme's fire dwindled away, not wanting to look at the charred remains smoking in their midst. She couldn't comprehend that Esme had destroyed them all. “Esme, it was Taggart. I heard his voice. What have you done?” With a choked sob, she hugged herself, kneeling in the smoking debris scattered all over the floor. She couldn't deal with the pain coursing through her body. She couldn't deal with this misery again.

“It was not your Taggart, Guardian,” Esme assured. “I did not have time to warn ye. It was the Waerin. They shape-shift into whatever a human's heart desires most to get close enough for the kill. It is their way. Draecna are able to see through them. Humans cannot.”

“Hannah!”

Stepping around the scattered bodies of the still-smoking Waerins, Taggart, in Draecna form, shoved his way through the wreckage.

With a nod in his direction, Esme bared her fangs in a gleaming smile. “There is your true Taggart.”

Like an avenging angel, the streaming sunlight behind him created a halo around his outspread wings as Taggart shoved his way through the crater created in the blown away outer wall. Fresh blood glistened on the armor of his Draecna hide; his eyes glowed with the lust of sending his enemies to an early grave.

“Taggart!” Hannah launched herself into his arms and landed onto his chest with a thud. Wrapping her legs around his waist, she clamped her arms around his neck. “My God, I thought she'd roasted you. Esme says he's turned loose Waerins. Sloan says there's an army of them out there. They're attacking your people.”

Wrapping his arms around her, Taggart closed his eyes, nuzzling his face deep into her hair as he held her close. “Aye, well, what Sloan doesna realize is that we've got an army of Draecna and that trumps an army of Waerins every time.”

Running her palms along the smoothness of his scales, Hannah pressed tighter against him and shivered. A warm glow stirred deep in her belly as she wriggled against his broad, armored chest. Draecna form or not, she relished the safety of his arms. “I missed you,” she whispered against the leathery side of his face.

His voice fell to a husky groan as Taggart set her on her feet. “Words canna begin to tell ye the agony I went through when ye were stolen from me.” After a tender stroke against her cheek, Taggart reluctantly drew back his scaled hand and sucked in a shuddering breath. “But now is not the time to say all that is in my heart. We must first get ye to safety.”

Pulling his hand to her chest, Hannah held it tight. “We just need to get back to Taroc Na Mor and find a way to seal that gateway.” The quicker they kissed the land of Erastaed good-bye, the better.

An explosion rattled overhead, shaking debris down all around them. Esme sheltered Hannah with her extended wings and directed Taggart's attention to the collapsing hole in the wall. “Shall we join magics to transport the guardian somewhere a bit safer than the halls of Tiersa Deun?”

Baring his fangs in a grin of agreement, Taggart nodded. “Excellent idea, Esme. We shall wish her to Mother's stronghold in the Crystal Mountains.”

He turned to Hannah and steadied her by the shoulders, centering her directly between himself and the calmly waiting Esme. “Stand here. Close your eyes and don't say a word until I tell ye 'tis safe to do so.”

Too tired to spar with Taggart about his curt instructions, Hannah closed her eyes and hugged her arms around her chest. He was so bossy. The cramping tension in her shoulders eased a bit. She had to admit, after the torment of the past few days, it was kind of nice to let him take charge. A relaxing sense of security spread through her. She had noticed the warmth and concern echoing in his voice. They'd talk later about his poor choice of words. Taggart and Esme joined the tips of their wings in an arc over Hannah's head. Energy crackled through the air as they laced their claws together. Hannah squinted against the flashing sparks and covered her ears against the deafening roar. The ground around her undulated and surged. She stumbled and fought to maintain her balance as though trapped on a ship tossed about in a storm. Dropping to her knees, Hannah closed her eyes. They had better land soon or she was going to puke. The roaring in her ears finally stopped. She lowered her hands and eased open her eyes.

“Oh my gâit's just like Grandma's fairy tales.” Hannah straightened and spun in a slow circle, craning her neck to stare at the ceiling.
Breathe, Hannah.
She twirled more slowly to take in the unbelievable surroundings. The endless cavern glittered with crystal-covered ceilings as high as a Roman cathedral. Chiseled-out walls sparkled with gemstones: emeralds, rubies, sapphires, and garnets. Stalactites and stalagmites shimmered and glowed, reflecting flickering torchlight with the semiprecious stones trapped within their depths. A great stone hearth housed a roaring fire at one side of the monstrous cavern. The inviting flames twinkled and danced off every gemmed surface of the cave. Huge pillowed couches and chaise longues beckoned from a seating area holding a table with several tall pitchers and ornately carved tankards.

Torchlit hallways flickered off from the main room, sparkling like diamonds in the distance. Tunnels and cul-de-sacs honeycombed in every direction. The obsidian walls held niches lit with flaming sconces and sumptuous furniture scattered throughout the rooms. Other than the jewels bedecking the walls, red dominated the dÃ©cor.

“This is really nice. So ... regal.” Hannah kept her hands clenched behind her back. She did her best not to touch anything. During her imprisonment, she'd shifted from one dank cell to another with barely enough food and water to survive. She'd lived like a caged animal, crouching in the corners praying for her release. She couldn't even stand her own smell. “Is your mother here right now? I don't really want to meet her when I'm like ...” Hannah held her arms aloft as though she'd just risen from a vat of dung.
“This.”

“Yes, Guardian. I am here. Ye wouldna think I would miss the opportunity to greet my honored guest?”

Hannah shielded her eyes as blinding white light exploded into the center of the room.

“Mother likes to make an entrance,” Taggart grumbled under his breath.

“And there is nothing wrong with my hearing, Taggart,” Isla intoned as the light dimmed and her shape solidified.

BOOK: Eternity's Mark

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