Hannah ripped another strip of cloth from the bottom of her dress and wrapped it around her bleeding hands. The shattered gemstones and crystals scattered throughout the caverns were razor sharp and sliced into her every time she steadied herself.
William helped her tie the latest rag, shaking his head as he wiped more blood from her arm and shoulder. “Ye need Draecna hide. The crystals will rip ye to shreds afore we get out of here.”
“I’ll be fine.” She winced as the bandage shifted. Some of the shards remained in her flesh like tiny slivers of glass. She would worry about it later. There wasn’t time now. They had to find the others.
A movement in the debris beside the hearth caused another crystal stalactite to crash to the floor. As the echo of the crash faded off into silence, a distinct moan filtered up through the wreckage.
As they picked their way toward the sound, they slipped and slid through the rubble. Hannah stared at all the rubies, amethysts, and carnelians glittering in the light of the Draecna lantern. The jeweler of Jasper Mills would have gone into sensory overload. She swallowed a bitter laugh, firmly convinced she now hated gemstones. They were slick, wicked little beasts that made walking impossible and chewed into your flesh whenever you hit their jagged edges.
She grabbed William’s wing as she lost her footing and stumbled into a rockslide of the treacherous debris. “Dammit to Hell and back!”
“Get on up my back, Mother. It will be better if I carry ye. With my weight, I dinna slide as ye do.”
With a frustrated huff, she relented. “Just until we get over to whoever that is needing our help.” She caught hold of his wing ribs, pulled herself up onto his shoulders, and wrapped her arms around his muscular neck. “Okay, William. Let’s go see if we can dig them out.”
The young Draecna plowed through the wreckage better than any bulldozer. She held on, clamping her arms around his neck and wedging her feet against his wings as he lurched from side to side.
“I think it’s Gilda.” William wrinkled his nose and raised his snout a little higher. “Take a whiff. She always smells like swamp water.”
“William!” She climbed down off his back. “That is not a nice thing to say.”
“Well, it is true.” He lifted his nose again. “All ye need to do is take a big whiff. Dinna ye smell something like a bit of mildew?”
When this was all over, she was going to have a long talk with William about speaking his mind and how his words affected others'feelings. “I will take your word for it. Now help me get this wreckage off her and see if she is all right.” Hopefully, Gilda wasn’t conscious enough to have heard what William said.
William hefted the column pinning the Draecna maid against the hearth and scooped away the crystals piled on her head.
“Gilda? Can ye hear me? It’s William and Hannah.”
“The goddess,” Gilda whispered, sounding entirely too weak.
Hannah knelt beside her and used another cloth ripped from her dress to brush the crushed crystals out of the Draecna’s mouth and eyes. “We have not seen her. You are the first one we have found.” She faked a reassuring smile. “Try not to talk until I get the rest of the slivers out of your face.” The maid lay in a pool of shimmering blood.
“No.” Gilda tried to shake her head, then closed her eyes. “The Goddess has sifted to the heart of the battle. Her son, your mate, is in grave danger.”
Hannah closed her eyes as a wave of dizziness threatened to topple her. No. She refused to panic. This was not the time. Taggart would be fine. And safe. After all, his mother was a powerful goddess.
“Did she say where the heart of the battle was located?” She forced herself to stay strong even though she wanted to scream.
“Baelaon Fields,” Gilda whispered as she wet her trembling lips.
“The Baelaon Fields,” Hannah repeated while leaning on William to stand. She hugged her bleeding arms to her sides and released a shiver that had nothing to do with the cold. The name of the place sounded like death. Her sixth sense tingled. A feeling of dread gnawed deep within her; a sense of loss hammered in her heart.
“Dig her out, William,” she instructed as she stared off into space. “Settle her somewhere with food and water while I try to find some provisions to take with us. But hurry. We do not have a second to waste. We must get to Baelaon Fields.”
“I wantthe name of the traitor who killed him!” Taggart stood with his wings outspread against the dreary sky. He glared down at thosegathered below him. All of them possessed the ability to commit the heinous act. Which one had betrayed his beloved friend?
He paced back and forth across the short length of the rock ledge he had chosen as his podium to address his gathered troops. Fury hammered through him as he flexed and stretched his wings. From this vantage point, he barely made out Gearlach’s head impaled on a pike outside of Sloan’s tent. He sheathed and unsheathed his silver-tipped claws, wishing Sloan stood in front of him so he could rip him from throat to gonads. “I expect an answer!” he thundered, his roar echoing across the valley.
“Do you actually think the traitor foolish enough to confess?” Isla shimmered into being on the ledge beside him.
“Now is not the time.” He didn’t spare her a glance.
Isla bowed her head, glanced at the troops, then lowered her voice for his hearing only. “I understand you are in pain, my son. But this is not the way to find Gearlach’s murderer.”
“They must all realize the danger they are in now that Gearlach is dead. As long as there is one Draecna out there killing for Sloan, none are safe.”
With a slow nod, Isla folded her arms across her stomach as she faded away. “I agree. You need to warn them, as I am now warning you. Hannah and the youngling are on their way. Your spell has run its course. She fears for your life and comes to save you.”
