Chapter 23
Hannah opened her eyes to a darkness so complete it suffocated her. She turned her head, straining every sense, then realized why she couldn’t breathe. Deafening silence accompanied the total loss of light. The term buried alive came to mind.
The bone-jarring echo of explosions had ceased.
All that broke through the stillness was the steady rhythm of William’s breathing spiked with the occasional snore.
She moved her leg and it both shocked and thrilled her.
She could move again. That meant three days had passed.
Possibly more. She remembered Taggart said the spell would lift in three days.
She shifted and tested the other leg. It protested with stiffness at the knee and hip, but moved as well.
She pushed against the floor, sitting upright. Her muscles told her in no uncertain terms she had been idle for far too long. If Taggart was still alive by the time she found him, she might wring his neck herself.
“William!” Her voice came out as a croaking rasp, shattering the stillness and seeming loud even to her. “William, wake up!” How in the world could he sleep at a time like this? It sounded as though he was hibernating for the winter.
She massaged her legs and arms, willing her muscles to loosen up. “William! Wake up!” Merciful heavens, if shouting didn’t work, she’s crawl over there and beat him. “William!”
“I have been awake. Guarding you. Remember?” He released a creaking yawn, then made a loud, wet smacking with his lips. “Is Taggart back yet?” Debris scraped and rattled. The youngling must be moving. He peeled a fart into the darkness.
“William!”
“Sorry.” More rattling and thumping about. “Ye didna say, Mother. Is Taggart back?”
“No. Not yet.” She forced herself to ignore the dread gnawing at her, telling her that something was dead wrong. “Can you make a flame yet? Even a small one so we can have some light?”
“I can try.” The lad didn’t sound too confident as he continued scuffling about. He whooshed in a great rumbling breath, then blew it out with a mighty growl. Nothing happened. The velvety darkness remained like a dense, eternal blanket. “Dammit.”
“It’s all right.” She reached out, found his side, and have him a reassuring pat. “One of these days, your flame will come. It’s just not ready yet. Give it time.”
“It isna just that,” the lad said quietly. He shuffled closer, pressing against her. “The glowing stone Gearlach gave me doesna work anymore.”
Arms outstretched, she stood, found a wall, then edged toward where she thought the door might be. “Well, once things settle down, he can give you another.”
“Ye dinna understand.” The young one’s voice cracked as though his emotions got the better of him. “If the magic is gone from Gearlach’s stone, it means he is dead.”
She bowed her head and closed her eyes, praying William was wrong. “Could be because the stone got damaged in a blast. We must not give up hope. Not ever.”
“The stones canna be damaged, Mother. It is a tenet Taggart drilled into my head.”
Hannah lifted a shaking hand to her mouth and stifled a sob.
Sweet, bumbling Gearlach gone. What else had happened in the three days of her incapacitation?
She dreaded finding out. All she knew for certain was she had to be strong for William.
“Forgive me for doubting you, William. I guess it’s because I didn’t want it to be true. ”
“I nay want it to be true either.” William’s sniff echoed across the room. “Gearlach always played the fool. . . .” The young one coughed and sniffed again. “But he was my friend.”
She sagged against the rough gemstone walls, grief cutting into her heart as sharply as the raw crystals cutting into her back.
She forced the rising hysteria back into its tiny box at the back of her mind.
Now was not the time. She had to find Taggart.
He still lived and would know what they needed to do. She refused to think otherwise.
After a deep breath and a hard swallow, she took out her dagger. Somehow, holding it ready made her feel better. “I know you’re hurting. I am too. But we have to grieve for Gearlach later. We’re going to find our way out of this place and join the others.”
“But Taggart said to wait until one of them came for us.”
“I refuse to wait any longer. Now, you can either come with me or sit here alone where you can’t even see the end of your snout. Which is it?” She knew what he would choose. He feared the darkness and being alone more than anything else.
“Which way should we go? I dinna remember how we came in. We been here too long.”
She bit her tongue to keep from shouting, reminding herself he was very young and afraid. It had been three days since he carried her into the shelter and he had probably curled up and gone to sleep as soon as he dropped her into the pile of pillows.
“This is a shelter. Do you remember seeing anything in this room we could use to find our way out? Do you remember seeing tables with lanterns or anything else before the lights failed? Candles with Draecna flints nearby? Anything?” Someday, when all this was settled, she and Taggart would have a long talk about that catatonic spell.
He had closed her eyes after paralyzing her, rendering her powerless to notice anything about their surroundings while light remained.
She had faded in and out of consciousness and vaguely remembered the sounds of bombing, but that was all.
She heard William shuffling about. He sounded like an oversized rat; his rear claws scratching on the slate floor. The scratching changed to a thump when he must have reached a carpeted area. A crash sounded, then a louder clunk and screech as William collided with a solid piece of wood furniture.
“I found the table, Mother.”
Hannah clapped for him. “Good job!” She just hoped he hadn’t cleared it of its contents.
She heard him pawing the top of the table; his claws clattering as he tapped the surface of wood. “Careful, William. If you knock anything off into the floor, you might never find it in this darkness.”
A warm, yellow glow illuminated the darkness as William struck the shutter on a Draecna lantern. “Look what I found.” He tapped the cone-shaped top of the crystal cylinder while giving her a toothy grin.
The light eased the tension in her chest. She rewarded him with two thumbs up. The darkness had fed the demons of her mind and the brightly burning lantern helped keep the terrors at bay. “Excellent job, William. Now let’s get out of this hole and find the others.”
They broke through the rubble blocking the passage and shoved into the main hall. With a rumbling grunt, William heaved aside a collapsed column then held her back while he waited to see if the passage was safe.
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.