Chapter 26
She stepped out of the lily-scented water and reached for the heated towel waiting on the steaming rocks.
“I have made my decision and I will say I feel much better now after settling on it. I would appreciate it if you two would support me.” Hannah listened then glanced at the silhouettes of Isla and Septamus showing on the rice paper divider as they waited on the other side of the room.
She had known they wouldn’t like what she told them, but as the old saying goes, they would get over it.
While blotting the moisture from her legs, she smiled as Septamus cleared his throat.
She had known he would be the first to fight it.
“She cannot possibly do that. Can she? Take his remains back to Taroc Na Mor? The portal has yet to be fully repaired. And besides, it would not be proper for his remains to be on the other side.” Septamus paced in circles in the center of the room.
He scratched behind a horn, then turned toward Taggart’s remains on the mantel.
“Apparently, she can do whatever she wishes.” Isla followed right behind him, her tail swishing harder with every step.
“I can hear you,” Hannah called out. “And I can see you both through this thing. The light is on that side, remember? Did you forget I was still in here?”
“I forgot nothing,” Septamus snapped. “I assumed we spoke low enough so you could not overhear.” He motioned for Isla to move closer to the door and farther from the screen.
“And I am still watching your outline through the rice paper. Actually, it is almost transparent.” The stodgy old Draecna needed to realize her decision was best for all concerned.
“Besides, what difference does it make if Taggart’s remains are in Erastaed or Taroc Na Mor?
You two have an entire country to rebuild.
I would think you have a lot more to worry about than an urn full of ashes. ”
“The people need to pay their respects,” Isla admonished in a reproving tone.
Hannah yanked on a shirt dress that hit her below the knees and marched around the screen.
“The people have taken enough from me. Do not stand there and tell me to give them one damn bit more. Understand?” How dare they lecture her on what the people needed.
As far as she was concerned, the people had taken everything she had.
Isla blinked, backed up a step, then laced her ornate claws across her tiled belly. “Perhaps you are right. Perhaps we could build an image or something for the people to visit in memory of Taggart.”
Hannah nodded. “Fine idea.” She went to the wardrobe, gathered more clothes, and piled them on the satin-pillowed bed. “I am concerned about William, though. I worry about leaving him behind. He is still very young and immature.”
“William has matured more than you think. The revolution aged him quickly. He has fire now. It is time to put some distance between the two of you. It would be the same if he had known his natural mother. The time of separation has come.” Septamus resumed his uneasy pacing.
“But I will never see him again,” she quietly added.
“How can you possibly know that?” Septamus gave her a stern look.
“You possess the years of a Draecna now and we are sworn to repair the portal. Taroc Na Mor is the ancestral home of us all and in several hundred years there will be a new batch of eggs ready to replenish the nursery. The portals of time must be maintained.”
“At least now we have an immortal Guardian,” Isla said with an approving tip of her head. “Why didn’t we think of that years ago?”
Hannah plopped down on the end of the over-stuffed settee. “I never thought I would end up being a bitter, broken-hearted old woman in a castle full of lizard eggs.”
“What did you say?” Septamus asked.
“Never mind.” She turned and started scooping up clothes and shoving them into the bag. “It does not bear repeating.” So this was her destiny. Matriarch over the keepers of the portals. She wished Granny had warned her properly. It sounded like a lonely way to spend the next several thousand years.
Since Sloan’s death, the entire world of Erastaed had greened, as though the realm itself exhaled in relief. Hannah, Septamus, Isla, and William looked out across the blossoming valley at the deep blue River Ursayus as it glistened its way out to the sea of Muandalel.
A warm breeze gently ruffled Hannah’s hair, reminding her how Taggart always enjoyed combing his fingers through the strands.
Her throat ached with the threat of another onslaught of tears.
No more. She had promised herself no more.
Yet another reason she needed to leave. This was Taggart’s world.
She could not live here without him. The sooner she left this place the better.
She stood a better chance of learning to live with his loss back at Taroc Na Mor.
“Is it time yet?” She glanced at the horizon, then turned to Isla.
Isla cast a narrow-eyed study at the sun, then turned and eyed the rising of the second moon. “Almost. The two almost share the sky. We have but another moment or so to wait.”
She turned back to Hannah and offered a toothy smile as she gently touched a claw to Hannah’s cheek. “I shall miss you, my brave daughter. Take care of yourself until it is time for us to meet again.”
“Thank you for everything.” Hannah swallowed hard and hugged Isla’s claw to her cheek.
“Take care of yourself, Guardian,” Septamus said. “And do not doubt that we will see each other again.”
“I know, Septamus. This long lifespan will just take some getting used to. Now I will finally have time to read all those books.” She hugged the stodgy old Draecna, smiling as he grudgingly patted her on the shoulder.
“William, you know how proud I am of you and how very much I love you.” She wrapped her arms around William’s neck and squeezed, breaking her promise that she would shed no more tears.
“I love ye, Mother,” he whispered as he clutched her to his chest. “I am going to miss ye with all my heart, but I promise I will do ye proud so I can tell ye about it when next I see ye.”
“I know you will.” She sniffed and wiped a hand across her eyes.
“It is time, daughter. We must cast it now or I cannot assure that you will land at Taroc Na Mor.” Isla waved a claw toward the sky, where the sun and the moon shared the horizon.
“Tell Esme not to be angry with me. Someday, I hope she will understand,” Hannah reminded Septamus as she stepped into the center of the octagonal ceremonial stone.
Esme refused to understand why she had chosen to leave.
She had been quite adamant that Hannah’s duty to the people outweighed anything as foolish as heartache or pain.
Esme had a great deal to learn about emotions.
Hannah hoped someday she would see her again and that the young female would find the path to her feelings.
“I will tell her,” Septamus said. “For what good it will do.”
“Goodbye, daughter. Long life and peace be with you until we meet again.” Isla blew a cloud of shimmering flames around Hannah. The circle swirled and gradually tightened until it completely enveloped her body.
Hannah embraced the warmth of the spell, closing her eyes against the myriad of sparkling colors dancing in the fire. Her head spun and her heartbeat pounded in her ears as she felt a sudden lurching. She was headed back to Taroc Na Mor.
Hannah regained consciousness standing on a ledge overlooking the ocean just as a wave crashed over it.
“Ugh!” With her back to the sea, she blinked away the burning brine, coughing and choking as she frantically ran her fingers around the lid of Taggart’s urn to ensure the seal remained intact.
Isla had said she had no control over where Hannah would hit Taroc Na Mor.
Thank goodness she had landed on dry land.
The wind lashed her wet hair across her face and doused her with more salty spray.
She had to move. Now. At this rate, with wind and waves, the urn would end up taking on water.
With her bags and the urn securely strapped to her, she made her way up the steep embankment and looked around.
The rocky hillside seemed familiar. The tension in her muscles relaxed a bit.
Yes. This was it. She had made it back. She spotted Taroc Na Mor a little to the south.
This was the cliff she had explored the day Taggart revealed his Draecna form.
She turned, facing the sea as she squinted against the wind.
It was hard to say if her eyes were watering or she was crying, but she had a pretty good idea which.
That night, the night he had shown his other self, they had made love.
The heat of that coming together flooded through her, making her ache for his touch again.
That would never happen. Circumstances had kept them apart, even after the mating ceremony, and now her precious lover was gone.
She pulled the bag holding his urn up to her chest and rubbed her cheek against the carvings.
Perhaps Taroc Na Mor wasn’t such a great idea after all.
His ghost walked here as well. If anything, the painful memories were even stronger.
“This is so hard,” she whispered, shoving the bag back under her arm.
A glance upward told her rain was coming.
Hard or not, it was time to get inside the keep.
Clumps of grass tried to trip her as she walked the short distance from the shore to the main garden at the back of the castle.
A glance around the deserted grounds made her cringe.
It looked as though the place had been abandoned for years.
Taggart would be aghast. The bushes and shrubs had overgrown into uncontrolled masses of leafy monstrosities.
More masonry had fallen away, exposing the eroding foundation.
A part of the roofing had shifted in one spot and looked ready to slide off onto the balcony on the second floor.