Eternity's Mark (30 page)

Read Eternity's Mark Online

Authors: Maeve Greyson

BOOK: Eternity's Mark
9.94Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
“Apparently, she can do whatever she wishes.” Isla paced right behind him, her arms folded across her glistening belly.
“I can hear you clearly,” Hannah called from behind the rice paper screen. “And I can see you both through this thing. The light's on that side, remember? Did you forget that I was still in here?”
“No, I did not,” Septamus snapped. “I just thought we spoke low enough so you couldn't overhear us.” He motioned toward Isla to move closer to the door and farther away from the screen.
“And I am
still watching
the outline of your body through the rice paper. Actually, it's pretty see-through. Can you see me? Stay over here where I can hear you,” Hannah added. The stodgy old Draecna needed to realize her decision was best for all concerned. “Besides, what difference does it make if Taggart's remains are in Erastaed or Taroc Na Mor? You two have an entire country to rebuild. I would think you've got a lot more to worry about then an urn full of ashes.”
“The people need to be able to pay their respects,” Isla admonished in a reproving tone.
Hannah exploded from around the screen, shaking the shirt clenched in her hand to within inches of Isla's snout. “I think the people have taken their fair share from me! Don't you dare stand there and tell me to give them one damn bit more.” How dare they lecture her on what the people needed! As far as she was concerned, the people had taken everything she had.
Isla blinked, backed up a step, and laced her ornate claws across her tiled belly. “Perhaps you are right. Perhaps we could build an image or something for the people to visit in memory of Taggart.”
Shaking out the shirt still clenched in her hand, Hannah nodded. “There you go. I think that sounds like a fine idea.” After she folded the shirt, she hugged it to her chest and frowned at the scattered clothes on the satin-pillowed bed. “I am concerned about William, though. I'm worried about leaving him behind. He's still very young and immature.”
“William has matured more than ye think. The revolution aged him quickly. He has his fire now. It's time he put some distance between the two of ye. It would be the same if he'd known his natural mother. The time of separation has come.” Septamus clasped his claws behind his back and resumed his pacing about the room.
“But I'll never see him again,” Hannah argued as she tossed the shirt to the bed.
“How can ye know that?” Septamus shot back. “Ye have the years of a Draecna ahead of ye and we have sworn to ye that we shall repair the portal. Taroc Na Mor is the ancestral home of us all and in several hundred years there will be a new batch of eggs ready to replenish the nursery. The portals of time must be maintained.”
“Well at least now we've got an immortal guardian,” Isla observed. “Why didn't we think of that years ago?”
“Great. I can see it now.” Hannah muttered, plopping down on the end of the over-stuffed settee. “I'm going to be a bitter, heartbroken old woman with a castle full of lizard eggs.”
“What did she say?” Septamus asked.
“Never mind.” Hannah shrugged as she shoved her clothes into the bag. “It doesn't bear repeating.” So this was her destiny. Matriarch over the keepers of the portals. She wished Grandma had warned her. It sounded like a lonely lot for the next several thousand years.
Since Sloan's death, the entire world of Erastaed appeared greener, as though the realm itself exhaled with relief. Hannah, Septamus, Isla, and William looked out across the blossoming valley at the winding River Ursayus as it glistened its way out to the sea.
A warm gentle breeze ruffled Hannah's hair; it reminded her how Taggart had combed his fingers through the strands. Her throat ached with the threat of another onslaught of tears. No more. She'd promised herself, no more. She couldn't stay here. This was Taggart's world. She couldn't live here without him. The sooner she left this place the better. She stood a better chance of surviving his loss back at Taroc Na Mor.
“Is it time yet?” She glanced to the horizon, then turned to Isla.
Isla cast a narrow-eyed glance at the position of the sun, then turned to search for the rising of the second moon. “Almost. The two almost share the sky. We have but another moment to wait.”
Turning back to Hannah, Isla gave her a toothy smile and gently touched her claw to Hannah's cheek. “I shall miss ye, my brave daughter. Take care of yourself until it is time for us to meet again.”
“Thank you for everything, Isla.” Hannah swallowed hard and pressed her face into Isla's claw.
“Take care of yourself, Guardian,” Septamus instructed. “And do not doubt that we
will
see each other again.”
“I know, Septamus. This long lifespan will just take some getting used to. Now I'll finally have time to read all those books.” Hannah hugged the stodgy old Draecna's chest, smiling as he grudgingly patted her on the shoulder.
“William, you know I'm very proud of you and you know how much I love you.” Hannah wrapped her arms around William's neck, breaking her promise to herself that she'd shed no more tears.
“I love you, Mother,” William whispered as he clutched her to his chest. “I'm going to miss ye with all my heart, but I promise I'll do ye proud so I can tell ye when I see ye again.”
“I know you will, William,” Hannah choked as she wiped her hand across her eyes.
“'Tis time, daughter. We must cast it now or I canna assure ye will land in Taroc Na Mor.” Isla nodded to the sky, where the sun and the moon shared the horizon.
“Tell Esme not to be angry with me. Someday, I hope she'll understand,” Hannah reminded Septamus as she stepped onto the center of the octagonal ceremonial stone. Esme hadn't understood why she'd chosen to leave. She'd been quite adamant that Hannah's duty to the people outweighed anything as foolish as heartache or pain. Esme had a great deal to learn about emotions. Hannah hoped someday she'd see Esme again and that the young female would find the path to her feelings.
“I will tell her,” Septamus groaned. “For what good it will do.”
“Good-bye, daughter. Long life and peace be with you until we meet again.” Isla blew a cloud of shimmering flames around Hannah. The circle swirled and gradually tightened until it completely enveloped Hannah's body.
Hannah inhaled the warmth of Isla's spell; she closed her eyes against the confusing myriad of sparkling colors. Her mind swirled and her heartbeat roared in her ears as she felt a sudden lurching shift beneath her feet.
C
HAPTER
F
OURTEEN
H
annah regained consciousness on the edge of the ocean just as a wave crashed into the ledge. “Ugh!” Spitting out seawater, Hannah wiped her eyes and checked to make sure Taggart's urn hadn't taken on any water. “Thanks a lot, Isla.”
The wind lashed her wet hair across her face and threatened to douse her again with more salty spray. She had to move now, before she had a chance to figure out where she'd landed, or the waves would souse her again. If she paused to gather her bearings on this ocean-drenched shelf, she'd end up either soaked or drowned. Picking her way up the steep embankment, Hannah vaguely remembered the rock-strewn hillside. As she reached the top, she glanced around. The tension knotted in her chest loosened a bit. She was back. She'd arrived home. This steep cliffside stood just to the north of Taroc Na Mor.
She remembered this to be the embankment she'd wandered down the day Taggart had revealed himself as a hybrid. Hannah squinted against the eye-watering wind as it whipped her hair into her eyes. They'd made love that night. The heat of the memory flooded need through her body. Her nipples tightened and she ached deep with wetness. He'd never touched her again. Pride and circumstance had kept them apart and now her wondrous lover was gone.
She hugged his urn against her chest and rubbed her cheek against the carvings. Maybe Taroc Na Mor wasn't such a great idea after all. His ghost walked here as well. The pain of the memories ached even stronger.
Scuffing her feet in the scattered clumps of grass, Hannah made her way back to the keep. Hannah cringed as she glanced about at the deserted grounds. Had they been gone that long? Taggart would be horrified. The bushes and shrubs had sprouted and overgrown into masses of leafy monstrosities. Additional masonry had chipped away, leaving the foundation eroded and exposed. A part of the roofing had shifted in one spot and looked in danger of sliding off to the balcony on the second floor.
“Wow.” Hannah spun on one heel as she circled around to the inner courtyard. “This place is worse than it was before we left. Look!” Holding up Taggart's urn as if it were perfectly natural, she pointed it at the building.
Realizing what she was doing, Hannah tucked the box back under her arm. “I have lost my mind,” she muttered aloud as she made her way up the broken steps.
She shoved against the door, bouncing twice with her shoulder until the sticking wood gave way, then stumbled her way into the dingy hallway. Glancing around at the cobwebs curtained down from the rafters, she wrinkled her nose at the smell. Just as she remembered, except maybe quite a bit mustier and covered in a thick layer of dust.
Home. Hannah settled Taggart on the hallway table. “We're home, Taggart.” She laid her hand atop the box. With a frown, she leaned closer and placed her other hand on top of the cover as well. It seemed extremely warm. It must've been the passage back to Taroc Na Mor. Isla's spell must've heated up the urn. Hannah shrugged and caressed the box. That had to be what had warmed it. That and the fact, she'd been hugging it to her chest ever since she'd crossed back to Taroc Na Mor.
Rubbing her arms, she glanced around the room. The urn might be warm, but the keep certainly wasn't. She had to find out if the gas was still on or at least light a fire in some of the hearths. It was almost dark. Her clothes were soaked from the welcoming wave and the damp chill had seeped into her bones.
If she remembered correctly, the kitchen was the warmest room in the keep. Hannah paused as she turned to pick up Taggart's urn. That room held even more memories. Gritting her teeth, Hannah took a deep breath. She couldn't very well avoid the kitchen forever.
Tucking his box under her arm, she made her way down the dingy hall. Her footsteps pinged on the tiles as though her shoes were made of iron. The sound reverberated down the passageways. Hannah had never realized an empty house could carry so much sound. Halfway to the kitchen, she slipped off her shoes. She couldn't handle any more castle acoustics. The echoes traveled for days.
Hannah settled the ivory box in the center of the kitchen table and swallowed her misgivings as she scanned the room. Her gaze fell first on the spa in the corner. Biting her lip, she forced herself to turn away and move to the icebox squatting in the corner.
Opening the door, Hannah stuck her head inside and just as quickly jumped back. “Ugh!” That was a mistake. She covered her mouth and tried not to gag as she quickly bounced the door shut with her behind.
Whew.
She'd have to clean that thing out tomorrow or haul it outside and burn it.
She opened the cupboard doors and found a tin of sardines and a slightly gnawed box of crackers. “Well, we have breakfast.” Drumming her fingers on the countertop, she spotted an unopened bottle of wine.
Now there's what she needed. Taking a deep breath, she steeled herself and risked another look at the spa. She'd find some candles. Take a long hot bath and drown her sorrows in a bottle of wine. Two times a widow, she deserved a one-night pity party, and what better place than where she and Taggart had first made love?
Rummaging through the cabinets, she loaded her arms with thick, pillared candles, a bar of soap, and several towels to prop behind her head. As she turned to pile them on the kitchen table, she frowned as she noticed Taggart's urn had slid to the very edge of the table toward the spa.
“I never noticed this table being unlevel,” Hannah muttered as she slid the box back to the center of the table. A chill teased its way up her spine as she noticed one of the pillared candles lying on its side beside the box in the middle of the table. With a narrow-eyed glare at the candle as if it was pulling some sort of trick, Hannah picked it up and turned it so it could roll to the edge of the table. It didn't. She turned it again and nudged it just a bit. The candle stayed in place.
Snatching up the candle, Hannah picked up the rest of the items she'd scattered across the table. “I'm just tired,” she announced to the room as she hurried over to the spa.
She set up the candles on the end of the tub, lit the wicks, and exhaled as the peaceful glow flickered about the room. She started the water flowing into the tub and piled the towels on the other end. As she turned to gather her glass and her bottle of wine, Taggart's urn careened to the edge of the table again.
“Will you stop it!” Hannah slid the box back to the center of the table and held on to it for a moment with both hands. It was warmer this time than it had been in the hallway. Glancing up at the ceiling, Hannah laughed at herself. No wonder. She'd placed the urn directly under the light.
A whooshing sound caused her to turn. Every fire pit around the spa roared to life with a crackling blaze. Hannah forced herself to take a slow deep breath as she stared at the dancing flames. Gas logs. They had to be gas logs on some kind of thermostat. That had to be it. Edging closer to the tub, she refused to acknowledge the ash and debris from the popping wood at the base of the yellow flames.
“I'm just going to drink my wine, take my bath, and I'll worry about everything tomorrow.” She looked around the room as she spoke, as though daring the entities to spoil her evening.
Hannah stripped down and slid into the tub. The scalding water soaked pure tonic to her bones. As she closed her eyes and leaned back against the towels, the healing spring water eased some of the agony from her heart. She sipped her wine and watched the flames dance on top of the water spanning across her body. The more she drank, the sleepier she got. It would be so easy just to slip her face beneath the surface and let all her worries and heartaches be over.
“Hannah!”
As Hannah jumped awake, her arm knocked Taggart's urn into the tub, scattering his ashes across the water. “Oh my god! What have I done? How did you get over here? No! No! Now, I don't have anything left of you at all. Oh, Taggart, no.”
Hannah sobbed into the spring water, her tears splashing into her hands as she filled them with Taggart's muddied remains where they floated atop the water. As her teardrops fell, the water effervesced and the spa bubbled into a glowing energy froth. Hannah backed up into the farthest corner, as the reaction in the spring grew more frenzied. She gasped as a form rose up out of the glowing chaos and smiled into her eyes.
“Ye brought me back, my love. I've been waiting for ye to figure it out.”
Hannah didn't move. It couldn't be real. It had to be the wine or she had drowned and gone to heaven. She took her fingernail and dug it into the flesh of her inner arm, wincing when it hurt like hell. “Please tell me this is real. Please don't let it be a lie,” she whispered.
Taggart stroked the curve of her cheek with his thumb. “I promise, Hannah. 'Tis real. Your magic brought me back. I am verra much alive.”
Hannah dove into his arms and cradled his face between her hands. Searching his eyes, she touched his cheeks, his lips, and stroked his hair, while he chuckled and stroked her back. “How, Taggart? I don't understand.” She kissed him hard before he could answer, then finally came up for air. “How? I don't have any magic.”
With a carefree shrug, he smoothed her hair out of her eyes while he shook his head. “The magic of Scotland? Our love? Our immortal union? All I know is I've returned because you and I have much unfinished business. I felt the pull once Isla sent us back. But, Hannah, I never truly left ye.”
With a delighted sigh, Hannah wriggled on Taggart's lap and pressed against his chest. “I don't care as long as it's real. I'm just glad we're right back where we started and I'm never going to let you out of my sight again.”
“We've an eternity to watch over one another. Now stop talking and kiss me, woman.”

Other books

Double Dippin' by Petrova, Em
Oppression by Therrien, Jessica
Requiem for a Killer by Paulo Levy
Beautiful Sorrows by Mercedes M. Yardley
The Frost Fair by Elizabeth Mansfield
The Swan Kingdom by Zoe Marriott
Outfoxed by Marie Harte
One Night in Weaver... by Allison Leigh