“It is still me. I promise.” He prayed she would calm enough to notice that he kept the body shape of a large, muscular man, just amplified with Draecna attributes.
She squeezed her eyes shut, then reopened them, but at least stopped screaming. He took that as a positive sign.
“I will never hurt ye.” He thumped his leathery chest. “It is me in here. My heart, my thoughts, all that I feel is the same. I swear I am not a monster.”
She tucked her fists to her chest, curling inward as she tried toback away. “Your voice sounds like thunder, or the deep rumbling of an earthquake.”
“Look into my eyes. My eyes are the one thing about me that never changes, no matter what my form.” He tucked his wings against his back as he spoke, hoping it would minimize his form enough to lessen her fears.
She seemed calmer as she studied him closer. “But, how…? Why . . .whatexactly are you?” She wrapped her arms around herself, hugging herself so tightly it made him ache to hold her.
A glance at the darkening sky told him they needed to seek cover. He allowed himself a great, rumbling groan as he unfurled his wings and held out his hand. “A storm is coming. Let me take ye to the caves. I will try to explain everything there.”
She clutched her hands to the base of her throat, glancing first at his wingspan and then back at his outstretched hand.
He could tell she was sizing him up and sorting through her options. Thankfully, her options were few out here on the cliffs. He lowered his voice as close to a whisper as he could manage in this form. “Please try to trust me. Give me a chance. I beg ye.”
Her lips moved, but no sound came out. She coughed and tried again. “I will try,” she whispered. She edged closer and rested the tips of her fingers into his palm.
He remained motionless, allowing her to explore him if she wished. He kept his hand open, trying not to tense and ripple the corded tendons of his outstretched arm. She edged her hand deeper into his and exhaled as if she had been holding her breath. “I thought you would be cold.”
That observation made him snort a bitter laugh. “I may look it, but I am not reptilian. I am still just as warm-blooded as you.”
“I didn’t mean . . . what I meant was . . .” She stammered and flinched a sheepish shrug. “I am so sorry. I see years of pain in your eyes. Really, I am so sorry about my reaction.”
“Do not pity me.”
The smile she gave him helped. “Never,” she promised.
With a curt nod, he scooped her into his arms, cradled her against his chest, and launched them both into the sky.
Taggart had toldher about the cave system honeycombing the land of Taroc Na Mor. And something about them hiding sacred nurseries? The wind made hearing difficult as they whooshed through the air. He also mentioned several entrances dotting the estate, assuring they were all well hidden and guarded by mystical wards and trusted members of the Guild.
He touched down on a narrow strip of beach littered with sun-bleached bones and debris. It was high tide, leaving barely enough room to stand in front of what appeared to be a sheer wall of impenetrable rock whitened to an almost silvery sheen by years of sun, sea, and wind.
Hannah pulled her collar higher and stole a glance up at the black, thunderous sky. Most of the flight, she had kept her eyes squeezed tightly shut across the short distance around the tip of the cliff. Flying in an airplane was one thing. Hang gliding in the arms of a winged creature was a little more than she found herself currently capable of embracing.
A gust of wind caught her, nearly jerking her off her feet. She grabbed at Taggart to keep from toppling into the choppy waves below. He curled the leathery shield of his wing around her and waved a hand across a golden obelisk imbedded high in the face of the sheer wall.
“Greetings, honored Prince. Greetings, honored Guardian. Is it time to release the clutch?” A faint outline of an elongated, wispy man appeared on the rock wall, his features wavering with the wind.
Taggart gave a regal nod. “Greetings, Luthor. No. Not at this time. We only wish to view the nursery, please.”
She shivered, peeping out from the protection of Taggart’s wing. Who or what was Luthor? A glance around revealed piles of scattered bones. A sudden rush of bile burned the back of her throat. Thosewere human skulls. She pressed closer to Taggart and tightened her arms around his waist.
A rumbling sound interrupted her fight against rising hysteria. The rock wall directly in front of them shuddered and began to shift. As she watched, what she thought was a fissure in the rock widened into an entrance.
“Thank you, Luthor. Please close it behind us. When we have finished viewing the clutch, we shall exit through the internal passage and go up to the castle.” Taggart nodded his thanks to the strange man as he nudged her toward the opening in the wall.
“As ye wish, my Prince. I am here to serve.” Luthor blended back into the mottled surface of the limestone cliff, disappearing like a chameleon.
As Hannah slipped through the cave’s opening, she paused and glanced back over her shoulder. “Why did he keep calling you prince?” A shiver stole across her, triggered by the cave’s damp air. She wrinkled her nose at the wet, earthy smell. Close places had never been her favorite.
“Luthor is one of my oldest followers. He found it difficult—still finds it difficult to accept that my father left the House of Cair Orlandis and the rule of Erastaed to my younger brother, Sloan.” Taggart waved his hand at the unlit torches along the walls. They erupted with flames.
She turned in a slow circle, allowing her eyes to adjust to the flickering lights. “I see.” What other secrets had he been hiding? She turned back to him. He had returned to his irritatingly handsomehumanform. “So, is your brother like you?”
His bitter laugh echoed through the dripping rocks of the cavern. “No. Why do ye think my father selected him? I am the last of my kind.”
