Hatchling's Guardian Read Online Free

recovered and with the scars as proof of the success of her mission, returned to the village saying there was work undone. Something drove her. Still, each new moon she came back to spend time with Eneae. When he died, in the custom of his people, we carried him to the crater rim and gave him into the Goddess’s care.”
    Digging into the pack, Deneae pulled out a book. The worn leather cover reflected years of use while the embroidered ribbon holding the volume closed showed love and care. She looked at the book, then held it out to Trelleir. “This contains the last of my mother’s notes. I want you to have it.”
    He stood, making no effort to take the offering. “I cannot. That was your mother’s, her legacy to you.”
    The girl in front of him tightened tightened her lips in a manner Trelleir remembered as reminiscent of the way another had refused a gift. “No,” Deneae persisted. “My mother often spoke of you. That was why I was so pleased when the elders selected you for my community service.”
    “I bet they selected you because no one else would climb the switchback to my cave,” Trelleir answered, heat in his tone. “Deny it. None of the other candidates in slayer training wanted a posting so far from the comforts of the village.”
    Deneae dropped her gaze to the book in her hands. “Please, Trell, my mother kept this safe for many years. I know you will do the same.” At his continued refusal she pulled a chain from beneath her tunic. Light glittered off the pendant that dangled from her hand. “She also gave me this. So you see, the journal is not all I have of her.”
    “That explains it,” Trelleir muttered. Praying she did not catch his slip of the tongue, he hastily added, “Why you would wear it today, when you leave on your great mission.”
    She closed her fingers around the warmed metal as if it would bring back her mother, then with a sigh returned it to the hiding place between her breasts.
    Trelleir kept a tight hold on the truth that wanted to be whispered. He did not tell her the dragon stone secreted in the necklace was filled with his magic. Instead, he took the book and opened it. The tight script he remembered so well flowed across the page. Flipping to the last entry, he sucked down a deep breath. There in the ancient language he had taught Deneae’s mother lay a message that could only be intended for him. Once again he cursed those who had stolen so much from him.
    ~ * ~
    The next morning, her parting from Trelleir added to the sorrow in Deneae’s heart. She wondered at the flash in his eyes and his quickly hooded gaze. Whatever secrets he kept hidden, one fact emerged. He recognizes me as an adult. With the knowledge came another revelation. “He did not try to keep me,” she whispered. Unbidden, an old maxim rose. If you love someone, first set them free. If they return, your joining was meant to be.
    The image in Deneae's mind shifted. No longer was Trelleir her mother’s friend, but hers. Somewhere in the past day, her relationship to him had changed. The man in her mind no longer belonged to her parent's generation. Virile and in his prime, he seemed no more than a few seasons older than her. Warmth crept up her spine.
    Pondering the change in her perception occupied Deneae for the rest of that day and the one after, until the necessities of tracking her prey forced out all other considerations. Nightfall came, bringing with it more danger than just the wild creatures of the desert.
    The shape of a dragon glided across the stars, blocking their dim light.
    Crouching amidst the rocks, knife in hand, Deneae held her breath until the shadow retreated in the distance. For once she was glad she had made a cold camp. No smoke gave away her position. The breeze from the dragon’s passing ruffled her hair. When she was sure the creature had left and was not circling overhead, she stood and scrambled across the rocks. The last of the setting sun provided enough light for