With a nod, Esme bared her fangs in a gleaming display that Hannah took as a smile. “There is your true Taggart.”
He looked like an avenging angel. The sunlight streaming behind him created a halo around his horned head and outspread wings. Blood glistened on the scales of his broad shoulders. His eyes glowed with the thrill of sending his enemies to their graves.
“Taggart!” She dove into his arms, hitting his chest with a thud. She wrapped her legs around his waist and clamped her arms around his neck. “I thought I had lost you.” She pressed her face against his corded throat. “My world ended. I couldn’t bear it.” Laughter filled her, then she wept. “But you’re alive. I can breathe now.”
He held her close, shushing her tears. “I am alive, m’love. Living only to be at your side.”
She hitched in a hiccuping sniff and lifted her head. “Esme says Sloan turned loose Waerins. There are hordes of them attacking your people.”
He tightened his embrace, then gave her a tender kiss. As gentle as a feather, even though his clawed hands were massive, he caressed her cheek. “We expected such. What Sloan doesna realize is that we have an army of Draecna. His Waerins dinna stand a chance.”
She pressed in tighter and rested her head on his armored chest. A warm glow stirred in her heart. So many emotions stormed through her. Relief. Worry. But most of all: love. The safety of his arms gave her a sense of comfort and contentment she had never known.
“I love you,” she whispered without meeting his gaze. The wordsslipped out all on their own. She thought he felt the same. At least, she prayed so.
His voice fell to a husky groan as he lowered her to her feet. “I love ye, my own. Words canna describe the agony of when they stole ye away.” After another tender stroke of her cheek, he slowly drew his hand away. “But now is not the time to tell ye all that is in my heart. I must get ye to safety.”
She caught hold of his hand and held it tight. “We must get back to Taroc Na Mor and seal that gateway.” The quicker they put Erastaed behind them, the better.
A nearby explosion shook more debris down on them. Esme sheltered Hannah with her wings and directed Taggart’s attention to the collapsing hole in the wall. “Shall we join magics to transport the Guardian somewhere safer than the halls of Tiersa Deun?”
Taggart dipped his head in agreement. “Aye, Esme. We shall wish her to Mother’s stronghold in the Crystal Mountains.”
“Wishme?” Hannah arched a brow first at him, then at Esme. “What exactly are we talking about here?”
He took hold of her shoulders and centered her between himself and Esme. “Stand here. Close your eyes and dinna say a word until I tell ye ’tis safe to do so, ye ken?”
Not too certain about this, she closed her eyes, reasoning he would allow nothing to hurt her. The tension in her aching shoulders eased a bit. After the torment of the past few days, she was more than ready to let him take charge. Warmth and concern echoed in his deep Draecna voice, and she loved it.
Taggart and Esme joined the tips of their wings in an arc over her. The air crackled with energy as they laced their talons together. Flashing sparks made Hannah squint and cover her ears against a deafening roar. Her surroundings undulated and surged, making her struggle to maintain her balance. It thrashed harder. She dropped to her knees, closed her eyes, and tried to talk herself out of vomiting. The unbearable roaring finally stopped. Still huddled on the floor, she slowly lowered her hands and eased open her eyes.
She gasped, amazement striking her mute. After a few slow, deepbreaths, she allowed Taggart to help her stand. “Grandma’s fairy tales,” she whispered while spinning in a slow circle.
“Aye.” Taggart steadied her as she craned her neck to stare at the ceiling.
“Such beauty.” It was hard to decide where to look first. The seemingly endless cavern glittered with crystal-covered ceilings arched higher than the finest cathedral. Every wall sparkled with gemstones: emeralds, rubies, sapphires, and garnets. Stalactites and stalagmites glowed, the semiprecious stones trapped inside them reflecting the soft torchlight all around. A great stone hearth housed a roaring fire in one alcove of the monstrous cave. The cheery flames danced off every gem-encrusted surface. Huge pillowed couches and chaise lounges beckoned from a seating area surrounding a table with several tall pitchers and ornately carved tankards.
Torch lit hallways led away from the main room, beckoning like rare diamonds. Alcoves and cul-de-sacs sprouted in every direction. Obsidian walls held niches lit by flaming sconces and sumptuous furniture scattered throughout. Other than the jewels bedecking the walls, red dominated the fabric and pillows of the décor.
“This is so . . . regal.” Hannah kept her hands tucked behind her back, doing her best not to touch anything. She was too filthy to be in a place like this. For too many days, she had lived like a caged animal, groveling in the corners praying for release. She reeked of things better left unsaid. The term body odor didn’t begin to describe it. “Is your mother here right now? I don’t want to meet her when I’m like . . .” She lifted her arms, caught another whiff, then clamped them back down, hoping to trap at least a little of the offensiveness exuding from her. “I need a week’s worth of scrubbing.”
“I am here, Guardian. You do not think I would miss the opportunity to greet such an honored guest?”
Blinding white light exploded into the center of the room, making Hannah shield her eyes.
“Mother enjoys making an entrance,” Taggart said under his breath.
“And there is still nothing wrong with my hearing, my son.” The light dimmed, revealing the Goddess Isla in all her glory.
Hannah edged back, cowering in the protection of Taggart’s wing. The Goddess Isla was as amazing as her dwelling. This ancient Draecna who had sacrificed so much gleamed a pure and startling white. Her long trailing beard and the tips of her horns were as brilliant a gold as her huge, luminous eyes.
“Welcome to my home, Guardian Hannah MacPherson. I have monitored your journey and you have quite lived up to your calling.” She offered a polite nod. “You honor the Draecna with your devotion.” After a pointed glare at Taggart, Isla stretched and resettled her gold-veined wings along her iridescent back. “I have also watched my son’s behavior and will speak to him about his choices later.”
Should that offend her? Hannah glanced from Isla to Taggart. Was his mother referring to the fact they had, according to Sloan,matedor something else? It was impossible to read their current expression because both of them looked guarded. “Would you mind explaining what you mean? I don’t wish to seem rude, but it’s been a very trying day. If we could get everything out in the open right now, I would really appreciate it.”
Isla’s snakelike irises flexed as she stroked a gold-tipped claw through her beard. The shimmering yet leathery skin of her long, smooth face crinkled around her eyes. “The fire of honesty. Well done. It will serve you well in the difficult days ahead.” With a soft purring of amusement, she turned and seemed to float to the table filled with tankards. She motioned for them to sit. “Rest easy, honored Guardian. I was not referring to the fact that he marked you as his mate. I look forward to the day when you place grandchildren at my feet. It is the way he accomplished it that displeases me. He did not honor you as he should have. It is my son I have issue with, not you.”
Taggart bowed his head, obviously struggling to maintain control. He shot an apologetic look at Hannah.
