Chapter 20 #2
“And your mother?” Thaetus wheezed out a rattling cough then tried easing it with a gulp of morning grog.
“Mother never stops speaking.” Taggart closed his eyes while pinching the bridge of his nose and rubbing the gritty inner corners of his eyes. Gads, her voice still pounded in his head. He wondered if she had spelled him with a nagging hex to keep her words constantly drumming through his brain.
“I heard that,” Isla said as golden particles rained down from the jewel encrusted rafters.
“Eavesdropping is rude, Mother.” Taggart locked a murderous glare on the sparkling ceiling of the kitchen.
The golden particles swirled, then clustered into the shining form of the goddess. “I was already here before the two of you came in for your morning grog.”
“Aye, and the fact that ye were invisible is nay a factor?” He wished his cup held something stronger than the fermented grog preferred by the Draecna. Scotland’s best whisky came to mind. With a certainty, he would need it.
Isla glided around the table and poured herself a cup. “I am merely keeping out of the way until I am called upon to complete the mating vows.”
After draining his cup, Taggart fixed his mother with a baleful glare. “Well, since one participant in the ceremony refuses to speak to the other, there is a slight problem with the I dos.”
“Then I suggest you attend to it.”
He bit back a surly retort. Nay. Mother deserved respect no matter how nettling she behaved.
He rose from the table and meandered around the room, suddenly finding himself wishing for a window.
Blue skies and fresh air always helped him think.
“And what exactly do ye suggest I do to make it so? I have never found ye short on advice before.”
“Mind your tone, youngling.” She settled into her seat at the head of the table. The stern wrinkling around her great golden eyes softened as her gaze shifted to Thaetus. “You seem stronger every day. Do not forget the herbs I prescribed. You must use them daily.”
Thaetus slid farther down in his seat while bobbing his head. “No, m’lady. I shan’t forget. Thank ye ever so much.”
Isla sipped her steaming drink. Her long, graceful snout fit perfectly into the oversized tankard and she curled a dainty claw up from the handle.
After she set her mug aside, she turned back to her son.
Her stern wrinkles returned and her nostrils flared.
“Surely, you have some of your father’s seductive genes.
Woo her, boy! Convince her she cannot live without you.
I did not rear a coward or a quitter. Do you mean to give up on her so easily? You would be daft or silly to do so.”
Thaetus choked on his drink and showered the table with the amber-colored liquid.
Taggart thumped the poor Scot while glaring at his mother. “Have pity on the poor man, will ye? He still suffers from the aftereffects of Mia’s poison.”
Isla rose and pulled a long braided cord hanging down beside the hearth. “Rub his back, Taggart. Do not beat the man, and I am not the one who caused him to choke.”
A half-grown Draecna scurried into the room in answer to the silent summons. Head bowed, his narrow chest heaving, he darted a hesitant gaze all around.
“Dasim, please help Thaetus back to his room and let Gilda know it is time to prepare the meals,” Isla said.
After a jerking dip of his snout, Dasim scooped Thaetus up into his arms and cradled him like a babe.
“I can walk!” Thaetus sputtered as the Draecna toted him toward the door. “I have never been so humiliated in all my life.” The two disappeared into the hallway, Thaetus’s complaints fading into the distance.
Isla closed her eyes and heaved a resigned sigh before returning her attention to her son. “I assume you already deduced that Dasim is the one survivor from the hatching the Guild attempted. I fear he does not always understand what I ask of him.”
Taggart stared at the exit the two had used, then shuddered. The botched attempt at bringing forth the hatchlings without a proper Guardian had proved fatal for both the young Draecna and the Guild members involved. “I heard one had suffered ill effects while all the others had perished.”
“Young Dasim still suffers with the results of the struggle.”
She circled the room to stand at his side.
With a soft trilling he remembered from when he was tiny, she combed a claw through his hair, then rested it on his shoulder.
“Promise me you will get on with this wooing business. I wish to see you properly joined and moving on to gifting me with grandchildren. You are over seven hundred years old. How long am I expected to wait?”
Taggart stared down at the floor. Loving Mother was a chore on a good day and a bloody battle on a bad one. He lifted his head and granted her a forced smile. “I’ve nay been around for ye to meddle with in several hundred years. Ye really should pace yourself lest ye burn out.”
With an affectionate cuff to the back of his head, Isla chuckled as she floated toward the exit. “Do not give it a passing thought, my boy. I have saved up loads of things to tell you along with the energy to deliver them.”
She would see none of them ever again. Best friend Millie. All her animals. Every nosy, meddling soul in Jasper Mills. Hannah’s stomach churned with homesickness as she perched on the ledge and stared down the side of the mist-covered mountain.
Her beloved mountain of Jasper Mills would be lost to her, too. And she wouldn’t get to revisit Scotland. She blinked back the tears. No. No more crying. Tears solved nothing. She hugged her knees tighter and rocked back and forth on the cold, hard ledge.
Yet even refusing to cry didn’t help her escape her misery. All she would leave behind haunted her. The woods would take over Jake’s grave and wipe it from existence. Ivy vines and wild sumac would engulf the stone, covering it forever until some hunter stumbled over the marker.
She buried her face in her arms and released a shuddering sigh. With any hope, at least some honeysuckles had taken root around Jake’s headstone and would bloom on their anniversary. She snorted a bitter laugh. “Happy now, Jake?” she said softly. “I found an adventure.”
Taggart had given her closure there. Closure she never hoped to achieve. He had done so much for her. Saved her from herself and so much more. There had been no doubt she would stay with him no matter where he landed. She realized that when she thought Esme had burned him to a crisp.
She shook her head and thumped her fist to her chest. Her heart had torn to bits at the possibility of never seeing him again.
That was when she realized he had made her love him.
Even after she swore never again. But then he took her choices away.
Well, he made her choose between himself and her world—not much of a choice there, but still.
She blew out another heavy sigh, wishing things had turned out differently.
“Guardian, it is not safe to be outside of the cavern. It would be best if you returned inside.” Esme edged her way onto the ledge beside Hannah, scooting her enormous feet sideways along the rim of the path and wrapping her tail around her torso.
Hannah hurried to wipe away any remaining tears. “I needed some alone time. No one will bother me out here.”
“Why do you cry? We are safe with the goddess. Her caverns are well guarded by the most trusted Draecna. You should be pleased.”
“It is—complicated.” Hannah pinched the bridge of her nose and sniffed. Crying always stuffed up her nose and made her head throb. She knew better. Tears solved nothing.
“Males?”
“You are extremely wise for one so young.” Hannah pressed the heels of her hands against her temples. “What do you know of males, Esme?”
“Entirely too much, since the crystal caverns appear to be crawling with them.” Esme folded her paws across her stomach and rocked back on her heels. “They think quite highly of themselves and do not appear to think females know very much at all.”
Hannah couldn’t help but smile. “You’ve been talking to Septamus. Don’t let him bother you. He means well and should be able to help you with your lessons. He’s helping William.”
Smoke shot out of Esme’s glistening nostrils. “Lessons!” She bent her long graceful neck and locked eyes with Hannah. “I am a female, Guardian. Females never require lessons. I thought you understood that.”
“Well, apparently, I’m the one who needs lessons.” Hannah ran a hand across her eyes. “Esme, I really came out here to be alone. I can never return to my home and I am having a hard time letting go.”
“But you will be with your mate, correct?” Esme tilted her head and her long narrow pupils flexed as she studied Hannah.
“Yes. I’ll be here with Taggart. But I’m still going to miss all the people I loved back home. And I’m going to miss my mountain and everything I left behind.” How could she explain homesickness to the logical, fact-based Esme?
The young Draecna studied the sky for a moment, wrinkled her brow between her horns, then turned and shook her head. “Is not being with the one who makes your heart sing all that truly matters?”
Hannah closed her eyes and leaned back against the ledge.
Yes. That was all that truly mattered. No wonder female Draecna didn’t need lessons.
Leave it to Esme to boil it down to the facts.
Hannah stood and motioned toward the opening that led back inside.
“Thank you, Esme. I’m ready to go inside now. ”