Hatchling's Guardian Read Online Free

and a leather notebook had fallen from the roof thatches during the demolition. Deneae smiled in remembrance at the discovery of her hidden legacy. “The elders didn't know my mother's secret,” she hissed. “And never will.”
    The closer she came to the sanctuary, her destination for the night, the more her steps slowed. Trelleir was her sole friend, and she had come to say a final farewell.
    ~ * ~
    Trelleir stood in the shadows on the high ledge watching Deneae climb the steep trail, noting how effortlessly she skirted the deadfalls and other traps laid for the unwary. At the usual spot, she turned and looked out over the verdant valley to the notch at the far end. Her movements revealed she carried weapons and full travel pack... and her mother’s pendant. Unlike the other visits, the kernel of magic he had placed in the necklace years earlier called out to him. Her possession of the gift awarded to her mother, Adais, merited investigation. Adais had kept his gift to her safe until Deneae came of age.
    Realization that the villagers now sent Deneae out on another of their endless quests to destroy every last remnant of dragonkind darkened his soul. He waited in silence until, her face grim, she climbed the final distance, and stood before him. “So, it is done,” he said.
    Deneae’s frame tensed, and she gave a slow nod.
    “Then come inside,” Trelleir said. “We will share a meal while we talk.”
    The food turned to ash in his mouth. Across the table, Deneae mechanically ate the bread and roast. She sopped up the last of the juice, popped the piece of bread into her mouth, then pushed the plate away. Determination stiffened her frame. There was but one question left unanswered. And, he acknowledged, he owed it to Deneae and her mother to speak the truth. No matter the cost.
    “You knew my mother, Adais,” Deneae whispered. “And my father.”
    “Yes,” Trelleir said in an equally soft tone. “I knew them both.” The image of a slender, brown-haired woman, her belly not yet showing the unborn child within, shifted to a man whose hair color mirrored the ivory of winter ice. His arm wrapped around the woman’s waist held her close while he smiled down at her.
    Her voice roughened with emotion, Deneae spoke into the silence. “Mother never spoke of my father. All I know is that he died before my birth. A dragon killed him.”
    “Who told you that?” Trelleir allowed anger to add a harsh edge to his tone. “It could not be your mother. Adais would not speak such a lie. No dragon killed Eneae.” He thrust his chin forward. “Let me guess. Elder Caldar of the Council told you.”
    Without words, Deneae confirmed his suspicion.
    “A chieftain’s son, your father Eneae journeyed from his distant home on a quest for knowledge.” Trelleir softened his expression. “Den, like you he sought to make life better for his people.” For several long moments, silence unbroken by even a slight sound of a breath filled the cave. “Your mother and he met when she too was sent on the quest of a slayer. They traveled long months together.” Hesitantly, Trelleir lifted a finger toward a stray lock. “Your father came from a land where the sun burnished the skin to a deep bronze and lightened hair to almost white. In winter you have your mother’s color, and in summer...”
    “My father’s,” Deneae finished. “You say a dragon did not kill him. Then what—or who?”
    Unable to avoid answering, Trelleir took a deep breath. The earlier images of a happy couple shattered, replaced by that of broken bodies. “One night, many months after she left on her quest, your mother returned. Covered in blood from several deep slashes, she stumbled over my threshold. She supported your father who was even more grievously wounded. A pride of mountain cats had attacked them and Adais came here asking for my help. I bound their wounds, did what healing I could.”
    Years of suppressed sadness surged forward. “Your mother