“Corter will inquire about today’s killing hour, my love,” Mia said, her gaze darting back to Hannah. Her pale eyes glittered with anticipation as the tip of her tongue snaked across her bottom lip.
With a benevolent smile at Hannah and a sneer at Mia, Sloan gave a gracious shake of his head as though his audience should be grateful he deigned to give them an answer. “Do not be an idiot, Mia. We shall suffer her to live for now, at least until I grow bored with her. Simply shift her to a different cell at the stroke of each killing hour. That will amuse Corter enough. He can pretend he is emptying her cell. He can even hose her down if he likes.”
Mia’s shoulders slumped, and she glared at Hannah from beneath her tattered hood.
“Oh and Mia,” Sloan sniffed as he pulled a lace-edged handkerchief from his gold-trimmed sleeve and pressed it to the tip of his nose. “She is not to be tormented overly much, for if she is, I will ensure whatever happens to her is visited thrice upon you.”
“Yes, my love.”
18
“Idinna ken what to do.” Taggart stood in the nursery, eyeing the remaining eggs on the pedestal. He flexed his fingers, forcing himself to relax and focus. He stared at the eggs, urgency and frustration growing the longer nothing happened. “Kill that feckin’ music! By all that is holy, I need silence to accomplish this impossible task.” The delicate strains of violins disappeared.
“Now it feels a tomb.” Gearlach’s loud grumbling bounced off the polished gray walls and echoed around the cavern.
“Nice and warm thought,” William said. “And smell the pretty flowers?” He lifted his snout, snorted in a loud breath, then sneezed.
Teeth clenched, Taggart closed his eyes. The youngling was right. The delicate scent of the moon lilies calmed him as the fragrance stroked his senses. Sweet and clean, like Hannah. His beloved Hannah, who had accepted him for the monster he was and still opened herself to him, body and soul. And with every hope he possessed, her heart too. He shook himself free of her intoxicating memory and forced himself back to the present. “Septamus, remind me of the rite to bring them forth? Help me, I beg ye.”
Septamus shook his head while circling the platform. He gently ran a gnarled claw across each of the softly glowing eggs. “We needyour mother. She helped with the last hatching, even though it proved less than successful. She would know for certain what you need to do to free them from their shells.”
“The hatching moon is almost here. Why dinna they just come out?” William tapped a claw against the side of an egg, jumping when Gearlach thumped him on the back of his horned head.
“Stop that! Are ye daft?”
William tucked both forepaws behind his back and ducked his head. “I was just trying to help.”
“Well, stop it,” Gearlach snapped. “Ye’re behaving like me and are supposed to be smarter than that.”
“Iwill notsummon Mother.” Taggart studied the eggs. He’d had no contact with Mother since Mia spurned him right before their matrimonial rites. And today was not the day for her overbearing attitude ofI told you so. She had warned him repeatedly against aligning with Mia’s house. Mother had despised that bloodline for centuries and detested Mia personally. He had lost count of her lectures advising against the match. She had threatened to spell him if he didn’t listen.
“Just because your mother was right about Mia does not mean she will gloat. Especially not today and with our Guardian’s life at stake.” Septamus returned Taggart’s narrow-eyed scowl. “Fine. She would not mention it over much. Probably just remind you to listen to her the next time she offers advice.” Septamus shooed William away from a cluster of moon lilies with a flip of his tail.
Muchhis hybrid arse. Taggart knew better. Mother never missed an opportunity to lecture him on every error he had ever committed. How gullible did Septamus think he was? If they summoned Mother, the first words out of her mouth would be that she had warned him repeatedly about that—what was it she used to call Mia?—useless herb-wielding trollop.He shuddered. Mother’s tirade that Mia was not fit to wipe the slime from her grandchildren’s behinds still echoed clearly in his mind.
“We will do thiswithouther.” Taggart eased the nearest egg into his arms and cradled it as though it were a child. He stroked thepebbled surface. Concentrated on the pulsating light. Listened to the steady heartbeat. He wished the tenets had been more explicit. They could have at least recorded the steps. He had to accomplish this. For Hannah’s sake. They must storm Erastaed before it was too late.
The egg warmed, and the play of its inner light sped to an excited frenzy. The wee beastie’s movements increased until the egg bumped against his chest. Taggart held his breath. A cracking sound echoed through the chamber; then frantic scratching inside the shell grew louder as the little beast struggled to be free.
“Help him, Taggart. The magic binds the shell tight around us. That’s why Mother had to help me.” William tapped him on the arm, pointing excitedly to a piece of the shell rising then falling back as though firmly glued in place.
“What did Mother do to help ye, William? Do ye remember?” Taggart kept his concentration focused on the egg as he lowered it to William’s level.
With a flutter of his small wings, the youngling nodded at the undulating shell and touched it with a hesitant claw. “She peeled it away and called out to me. Called me by name and told me not to be afraid. Said she wanted to meet me.”
“It cannot be that simple.” Septamus edged closer, peering down at the hatchling fighting to emerge.
“Let us find out,” Taggart said. After a moment’s hesitation, he rubbed his fingertips together, then took hold of the fractured edge and gave it a tug. A powerful jolt traveled up his arm, burned across his shoulder, then exploded with searing white fury through his chest.
“Holy Hades!” The pain knocked him back a step and nearly made him drop the egg.
“Wow.” William sounded duly impressed. “Must be the protective magic.”
Fingers still tingling and arm aching, Taggart glared at the little Draecna. “I would say it works verra well. Any other suggestions, William?”
“Ye forgot to call him by name, remember? Before Mother pulled my shell away, she said my name.”
Eyes closed and struggling to remain calm, Taggart reminded himself William was not only extremely young, he was also Hannah’s pride and joy. He must be patient with the lad. Hannah loved William like her own child. “I thought she named ye after she drew ye from the shell. When I walked into the nursery, she lifted ye into the air and I distinctly remember her saying she would call ye William.”
