The cell door swung open with a clattering bang and Corter slapped his iron hoop of keys against the wall. “Wake up! The egg is cracking, but Sloan says something is wrong. Get your arse in gear!”
Now what? A cold sweat raced down her spine. As slowly as possible, stalling for every second she could steal, she pulled herself up from the floor. She frantically tried to remember everything Taggart had said. There had to be something to delay Esme’s hatching. But nothing came to mind. What had she missed?
“Come on, meat! What in Hades’ bowels is the matter with you? Are you not ready for this to be over? Quit your stalling. Look at it this way, once we kill you, you ain’t gonna be in these cells no more.” Corter grabbed her arm and slung her into the hall.
“Do not touch her like that again, Corter!” Mia ordered from farther down the corridor. “Until the hatchling is released, the Guardian is not to be harmed. Remember Sloan’s words. I refuse to be tortured just because you cannot control your actions with the woman.”
“I didn't hurt her,” he said. “Did I hurt you?” He shoved her toward Mia, who stood beside the great arched doorway.
“Can we just get on with this?” Hannah gave them both a disgusted look. What was that old saying? If she knew then what she knew now? If she had known Mia was that cute little kitten, she would have snatched her up and fed her to Gearlach.
“Get her in here now or I shall order both of you dismembered slowly!” Sloan’s bellow echoed out into the hall from beyond the opened doorway.
As soon as she entered the room, she sensed it was not good. The egg illuminated the entire area; its rosy internal life-force a blinding glow. The midline of the egg already possessed an alarming number of hairline cracks that were growing. As Hannah concentrated on the pulsating aura from the swelling egg, her heart fell as the crackling grew louder.
“The beast struggles. The cracks grow, but then recede, and every time I touch it the wicked little bastard electrocutes me.” Sloan showed her the blackened fingertips on his swollen right hand and nodded toward the egg. “Release the beastie, lest it dies. If it dies . . .” Sloan glared at her with a menacing stare. “So do you.”
She returned his glare. “I die either way.”
Ignoring him, she concentrated on the egg. Esme could not hatch. She moved closer, concerned about her gift of communication while under so much stress. She had talked to William before he hatched. But this was different. She had to convince Esme to bide her time.
“Esme. Please. I need you to be still and listen.”Hannah rested herhands on the egg, hoping her use of the little Draecna’s name wouldn’t release her. The hatchling did not answer. Hannah cleared her mind and focused harder.“Esme. I am the Guardian, and I need you to be still. We are in danger here.”
“Dearest Guardian. Help me with this shell. It refuses to release me.”
“That is a good thing, Esme. You must stay inside it a few days longer. These people are evil and it is not safe. You must try your best to wait until Taggart and the other Draecna arrive to save us.”
“That is not possible, my Great One. I have waited for over three hundred years already. Please, Mighty Guardian. Please help me join you in your wondrous world.”
“These people stole your egg. You are not in the safety of Taroc Na Mor. They want to control you and make you their slave. Please stay inside just a little longer. Taggart is coming to save us both, and then I promise you can come out.”
“I can wait but three days more, Guardian. No longer than that. Then I will need you to call me out.”
“It may take longer. I hope not. But it might. I will help you hatch when it is safe. Please promise you will wait and not create anymore cracks in the shell until I tell you it is safe. Please.”
“Three days is all we have left, Guardian. After that time, I die.”
That news made Hannah swallowed hard and tense to keep from cringing. She smoothed her hands across the pebbled surface of the warm egg, relieved to see the crackling vanish and the shell reseal. Esme would wait the allotted three days. Taggart better hurry.
“What the hell did you do?” Sloan knocked her aside and bent to examine the now flawless shell.
Hannah held her breath, bracing herself for whatever he decided to do. Sloan’s face flushed to a dangerous shade of reddish purple. As he turned from the egg, his hands tightened into shaking fists as he loomed over her.
Still on the floor, she skittered backwards until she bumped into the wall. “It wasn’t time. If the hatchling came now, he would not survive.” She maintained eye contact with Sloan, hoping that would convince him to believe her. Lies had never come easy to her.
“You lie!” He bared his teeth and raised a hand to strike her. “I see it in your eyes!”
“I do not!” She shielded her head with her arms. “That is why the egg shocked you whenever you touched it. The shell was damaged and needed to be healed.” Heaven help her, she prayed he would believe that. Since he hadn’t seemed to know why the shell zapped him, maybe he would.
Sloan paused, lowered his hand, and studied her. Turning to Mia, he jerked his head toward Hannah. “Is she telling the truth or not? You know Draecna lore better than I.”
Mia shifted her gaze first to Hannah, then to the egg, then back to him. Her thin lips tightened in her pale, drawn face as she gave a regal nod. “The Guardian knows all things about the hatchlings. I watched her with a young one at Taroc Na Mor. Whilst I detest her, you best heed her words on the health and wellbeing of the young one.”
“When?” he sputtered as he yanked her up from the floor. “When?” He sank his sharp nails deep into the flesh of her upper arm and twisted until she dropped back to her knees.
“Three days,” she said. Spots flashed in her sight, and her head spun from the pain ripping through her shoulder. Three days was the truth. That was all the time Esme had. She and Taggart had to make something happen by then.
He threw her into Corter’s greasy embrace. “Bring her back to me in three days' time.”
