“By all that is holy.” Taggart gaped at the empty pallet in the room's corner, willing it to tell him Hannah’s whereabouts. “I break my vow and the verra next morning I have already lost her!” He tore across the kitchen, fetched his sword from the corner, and belted it to his waist. He didn’t even know where to search. They had passed out in each other’s arms. He vaguely remembered her shaking him at some point this morning, but he thought she just wanted him to hold her.
“Taggart! Dinna be a fool. The woman knows ye to be a hybrid. Why do ye go for yer sword?” Thaetus lobbed the scrub brush across the table and yanked his apron off. “Change, man! Use your Draecna senses to find her. Have ye gone daft with exhaustion and worry?”
Heart pounding, Taggart heaved the sword across the room and stared at the blade where it stuck between the whitewashed stones of the wall. “This is why I shouldha kept my vow and never touched her. I broke my word and now my judgment has disappeared along with my priorities. I am a complete disgrace.”
Septamus stepped into the room, clouted him across the shoulders, and knocked him toward the door. “Enough, young fool. You can berate yourself later. Change now and find her! Use your powers, hybrid. We will worry about your useless vows later.”
With a ripping sound that echoed through the kitchen, Taggart’s clothing split away as he assumed his Draecna form. He cocked his head and strained with all his senses for a hint of where she might be. Finally, he heard a sound that lessened the weight bearing down on him. A tinkling melody of happiness like water trickling down the stream bed of a mountainside after a gentle rain. Hannah’s distant laughter came to him.
His unsheathed claws retracted as he turned in a slow circle, honing in on the sound. Where was she?
“Do ye hear her?” he asked Septamus, nodding toward the tunnels.
“She can’t get into the nursery. The gateway would never open for her.” Septamus angled his horned head at the door, a puff of smoke escaping from both his flared nostrils.
They both turned and glared at Gearlach where he sat at the table dipping his claws in the bucket of soapy water. “Did ye leave the gateway to the nursery open again?” Taggart flexed then resettled his wings down his back, struggling to keep his anger in check. Thieves had already stolen one Draecna egg from the nursery. They could not afford to be careless, especially not with his precious Hannah.
Gearlach shook his head and rose from the table with a sullen look on his face. “The gateway is sealed! I swear it. Thaetus doesna let me anywhere near it. Ye should ken that well enough by now. Ye think I would be foolish enough to cross any of his magical wards?”
Thaetus held up a hand, then patted Gearlach with a sympathetic shake of his head. “Have ye forgotten your texts, Taggart? TheGuardian has entry to the nursery anytime she wishes. She merely has to stand in front of the door and wish to go inside.”
With an irritating smirk, Gearlach bobbed his head and pointed a claw at all their chests. “Ye see? Ye canna always blame me when something goes awry around here. I am not as stupid as ye like to give me credit.”
Taggart yanked his sword free of the wall, ignoring Gearlach’s defense. He shoved open the door leading down to the tunnels. The sound of Hannah’s mirth bubbled up clearer from the depths now that the heavy metal door no longer blocked it. The louder her laughter grew, the harder his stomach churned. She had slipped away, and he had panicked like a fool. All reason had left him.
When he reached the end of the tunnel, he was relieved to find the gateway to the nursery tightly sealed. He rolled the haft of his sword in his palm, toying with the glyphs cut into it as he stared at the locked door in front of him. What was she laughing about? And why had she gone to the nursery alone? Blast her stubbornness! She knew she must go nowhere unprotected. What did it take to get through to her?
“Gavrana!”he snarled; his guttural Draecna growl rolling through the tunnels like thunder. When he got her in front of him, he had half to shake her before kissing her senseless.
The thick metallic disk covered by whirls and crescents groaned as it slowly rolled to the side. A fresh scent, one stronger than the usual fragrance of the moon lilies, buffeted him as soon as the door shifted open. New life. By all that was holy, she had released a hatchling. The smell of moist, loamy earth mixed with the ancient tang often detected in a seaward wind. A primeval scent known only to a chosen few allowed at the ceremonial births.
She sat cross-legged beside the warming pedestal with an iridescent green bundle cradled in her arms. Tiny, damp wings stuck to the scaly back and fluttered a transparent pink as the baby Draecna wriggled in her embrace. Lifting the little beast up, she laughed as the creature belched a tiny smoke ring, then nuzzled her face with anaffectionate chirruping. Its shining green tail curled up between its chubby hind legs as it squirmed and wriggled in her hands.
“I think William is a lovely name.”
“William?” Taggart snorted as he stormed into the room. “What kind of name isWilliamfor a Draecna?”
Cuddling the hatchling closer, she kissed William on the end of his glistening green snout. “William is an honorable name.” She gave him a frowning up-and-down glance, then added, “And why are you in lizard mode?”
“Lizard mode?” He ground his teeth together so hard he swore he heard them crack. Lizard mode, indeed. He shifted back to his human form and stretched before her in all his naked glory. “None of us could find ye this fine, wonderful morning. How many times have I warned ye about your safety? What does it take to convince ye that ye must go nowhere unprotected?”
She rose from the floor, balanced William on one hip, and nodded toward the remaining eggs. “William was ready to hatch. I heard him scratching at his shell. If I hadn’t helped him, I am afraid he might’ve died. He was having a lot of trouble breaking through, and he called out to me.” She moved closer and tiptoed to steal a kiss.
He grabbed her wrist and spun her away, turning her toward the warming pedestal. She would not distract him again. She had to understand. “Do ye not remember the stolen egg? What if that scratching had been a trap to get ye down here? What if a minion lay in wait for ye? I could nay have reached ye in time.”
She stared at the empty indentation, then yanked free of his grasp. “Then I would’ve handled it. I could’ve hidden until you came to the rescue. I haven’t been down here all that long.”
Little William glared at him, curled back his tiny green lips, and hissed.
Taggart snorted and shook his head as he yanked a plaid off one of the drying racks in the corner and slapped it around his waist. “Well, it appears ye have another Protector now. ’Tis just as well, since it is more than a little obvious that I am not the man for thejob.” Why in Hades did she refuse to see reason? Had she forgotten the destruction in Jasper Mills ?
“What are you talking about? You have been protecting me.” She lowered William to the floor, grinning as he wobbled across the smooth paved stones.
How could he explain his panic when she hadn’t been there? He stared at her standing there with her arms crossed and her stubborn little chin lifted to her trademark, defiant slant. As soon as he had realized she was gone, he should have shifted to his Draecna form, scanned the area, and been at her side within seconds. Instead, her disappearance from the kitchen had thrown him into a misguided frenzy; he had lost direction, his battle prowess, forgotten the strength and magic coursing through his veins. It had taken Septamus and Thaetus to snap him out of it, to tell him what he needed to do. What sort of Protector waited for orders like a common foot soldier at the front line of the fighting?
“Last night,” he began, then stopped. He turned aside, then started pacing around the stifling room. By the fires of Erastaed, the nursery seemed smaller than ever before. The scented air blew hot across his skin, stirred by the gently undulating branches of Rowanian saplings fanning the eggs. His heart wrenched with what he was about to say, but he had no choice. Her safety was all that mattered. “Last night should not have happened. I broke a sacred vow.” In many ways, he silently added.
Her eyes went cold and flinty as the color drained from her face. She shut down on him; he sensed it. She didn’t understand it was for her own good, her own safety, but it had to be done. “I have to keep ye safe, Hannah. Above all else, yer safety is more important than anything. Worlds depend on it. Please understand.”
