She would take what little she could now, and worry about the consequences later.
"I would like to see Rune." This time it was she who took a step to bring them closer, she who held out her hand in entreaty. "There is much I would like to do before I find another people to serve. Let me help you search for your amulet, and in return I will ask nothing except that you shield me from the day."
CHAPTER THREE
He didn't deny her outright, she had to give him that. But her heart sank as he gave a slow shake of his head, ignoring her outstretched hand.
"I can make no promises."
Her pulse leapt. It was a start. Lowering her hand, she took another step towards him. "I do not ask for any promises."
His nostrils flared. "You may only travel in darkness?"
"Yes." Holding herself motionless, she waited. The part of her that felt fear at the prospect of this adventure, she ignored. For so long had she lived a life well regimented and guarded, that to even think of doing something so bold as to help a golden Prince of Faerie find his magical amulet seemed dangerous and foolhardy. Yet she wanted to do this nearly as much as she wanted to dance when the full moon rose each month. Of course, it didn't hurt matters any that Egann of Rune was so beautiful to her eyes.
"There is a connection," he mused out loud. "You and the amulet, and the damnable spell that seeks to entrap me - us."
Deirdre thought it wise to say nothing.
Still gazing down at her, he reached out and lifted the heavy mantle of hair from her shoulder, running his fingers through it and making it cascade like a silken black waterfall down his arm. Her heart stuttered, skipped, and she scarcely dared to breathe.
"Then there are those that seek to kill you." Twining her hair around his hand, he gave a gentle tug, bringing her the final step closer. So close that she could, if she so desired, turn her head and place a kiss on the rippling muscles of his chest. She swallowed and kept herself still.
"I cannot kill them for you." His bass voice was a seductive rumble against her ear. "Though," he continued in a more thoughtful tone, "if they were to threaten me in some way, I would have no choice but to defend myself."
She looked up at him then, knowing full well that to do so might be a mistake.
"You are as lovely as any woman of Rune." He ran his thumb caressingly over her bottom lip.
Her mouth fell open as she fought the urge to take his thumb into her mouth and suckle him. Where such thoughts came from she couldn't say, as she had never done with any man the things she dreamt of doing with him.
"I will protect you, Fair Deirdre of the Cliffs." Though he'd said he could not promise her anything, he gave her this. Though, she mused, as promises went, this one sounded reluctant, as though forced from him through clenched teeth. "For as long as we search for my amulet, I will let no harm come to you."
Though no breeze blew this eve, still she shivered. The minuscule, buried-deep-inside part of her that was magic wondered if he knew what his low-voiced vow might entail.
But she could not bring herself to tell him, for she did not relish the thought that he might leave her if he knew the truth. Like most truths, this one was not pretty; indeed Egann of Rune would no doubt find it more of a responsibility than even he, a possible King, wished to take on.
For she had heard of those who made it their destiny to destroy Shadow Dancers. For whatever reason, they hated with a loathing that was nearly palpable. They had made it their lives work, and that of their sons and daughter, to hunt Shadow Dancers and slay them.
She had always known that one day they would come for her. Their determination and resourcefulness was legendary, and one of the first things taught to any Child of the Shadows was how to recognize them.
This she knew for truth - now that they had found her once, they would not rest until they found her again.
* * *
Though kept to a fast walk, the big stallion's stride covered a fair distance. In the course of half a night, they had traveled far from the moors and rode now near the edge of a vast forest. On the horse in front of him, Egann watched as the beautiful mortal woman tried to shake off the last remnants of her no doubt restless sleep in the stone tomb. Her long black eyelashes drifted down, to rest on creamy cheeks before fluttering back up as she blinked and turned to peer at him from those magnificent, honey-colored eyes of hers.
She did not speak, which he found restful. His sisters were always full of endless chatter, never understanding how well a man liked his silences, his chance to turn his thoughts inward, to reflect and to think.
This Deirdre seemed most unusual. He sensed magic in her, that instinctive push-pull that those of Rune so often took for granted. She, on the other hand, seemed unaware of it, other than the times when she danced under the spell of the full moon.
He found her to be a puzzle, which intrigued him.
And her beauty - he saw in her a comeliness so exquisite that merely watching her made his chest ache with unnamed emotion.
Twas an unexpected thing, that he might find such loveliness here in the barren, often joyless, human world. Disturbing, in fact. Though he'd stopped trying to analyze his reaction to her, finding enough relief in the knowledge that, although she'd haunted his dreams, she hadn't stolen the amulet.
What tie she had with the thing, he'd yet to fathom. But it was there, nonetheless, and he sensed she would somehow be instrumental in obtaining its return. It was a bonus that she'd agreed to help him search for it. Though dangerous as well, in a way he had yet to understand. To keep her near him, he would have to guard against two things. One, whatever powerful spell made her seem so irresistible to him and, two, the stifling sense of obligation that came with his obtaining yet another responsibility. After all, he'd promised to keep her safe, granting himself one more obligation in addition to the amulet, before he could truly enjoy his hard-won freedom.
Ah, responsibility. With it came the memory of failure, the sure fact that he, despite good intentions, could not be counted on. He'd tried, by the stars how he'd tried to live up to his position as eldest son, but never would he forget the look on his brother's face right before he'd died.
Failure had come at a high cost - the highest of all, and Egann had been certain of only one thing. He would not take the chance that he might fail again. As a result, he'd seldom done anything impetuous, spontaneous, or simply for the pure joy of it. As Crown Prince of Rune, inside he had known that he was not worthy of the throne, for to count on him would be to court disaster. Yet the people - who had known the truth about him also - had seemed to forget. He was looked up to, idolized, and revered by many as their future King.
A position he was not and would not ever be worthy of. At Fiallan's wishes he had stayed, suffered the false adulation and accolades, until he'd thought he might suffocate if he didn't leave Rune.
Thus he had refused to take the throne, even though his refusal had left the land of Faerie kingless.
The guilt that he felt at his decision had nearly destroyed him. Yet the unbelievable sense of freedom, the great weight that seemed to have lifted from his shoulders, made the guilt seem a small price to pay. Accepting Fiallan's charge to protect the amulet had helped even more. At least it had because he had thought even he could manage to do this one final service for them, however small.
Until he'd woken to find that he'd failed at even this. Now he felt undeserving even of his coveted freedom. But because that was all he had now, he would hold on to it with every fiber of his being.
Even though he now had the woman to protect and the amulet to find.
Yes, thinking on this, it concerned him greatly that he found himself so quickly with yet another responsibility, another life that counted on him for protection when he might only let her down. In her very presence, Deirdre of the cliffs was a threat to that which he valued so highly. The only responsibility he truly wanted was to find the amulet, discharge his limited duty, and disappear into the anonymity of the
human world.
But he could not. Not yet. The one who called herself Shadow Dancer asked so little of him - nothing but protection from the sun. He had given his word that he do so. That vow had been spoken freely, even though to perform such a task, no matter how simple, would seem to be the last thing he - the killer of his own brother - was capable of honoring.
So now he had two concerns - Deirdre of the Shadows, and the missing Amulet of Gwymyrr.
Fitting, as the two were tied together, in some inexplicable way he did not yet understand. Egann felt quite certain that once he deciphered the puzzle, he would find the missing talisman.
And then?
Ah, he smiled to himself, though it was a grim smile at best, he would worry about that later. For one of the beautiful things about an irresponsible life was the absence of regulations and planning. And duty.
* * *
The soft hoo-hoo of an owl made Deirdre shiver. The sound seemed overly close, given that they but skirted the edge of the forest. Glancing over her shoulder at the huge man who rode behind her, she saw nothing in the hard cast of his features to indicate that he felt reason for concern. Still, she could not shake the tingling of premonition when the owl cried out again.
"I heard that same sound when I awakened to find the amulet missing." The grim edge in his voice told her that Egann felt the same sense of forewarning.
"Think you that it is the same bird?"
"I do not know. If it is, the owl has traveled far from home."
Home. Smiling sadly, Deirdre thought of the cliffs by the sea. For her entire life she had lived there, but never had the place felt like a home.
He reined his stallion to a halt and faced the forest.
"What--"
"Wait." He held up a hand for silence.
Again the owl cried.
Dismounting, Egann helped her down. He led the horse towards the forest, where the intertwined limbs of the towering oaks created a deeper shroud of darkness.
The sound came again, from deeper within the woods this time.
Exchanging glances with him, Deirdre moved closer. She knew he thought as she did - the thief who had taken the amulet now taunted them. But it had to be some sort of enchantment, something that the Faerie Prince was better able to counter than she.
They continued deeper into the woods. Once inside the thick forest, the air smelled of the musty scent of fresh earth. She breathed deeply, letting her eyes adjust to the gloom, glad that the years she had spent moving about in the depths of night had prepared her for this. The lack of light did not seem to bother Egann; he led them forward stealthily, but with a confidence that told her he too could see his path, even though the moonlight did not penetrate the canopy of the trees.
Various creatures watched them. Though she did not catch sight of them, Deirdre could sense their watching, their waiting. But for what, she could not ascertain.
"I begin to think we walk into a trap," Egann muttered, slowing his pace.
"I too feel the sense of wrongness." She touched his arm and he halted. "All is not as it should be, though what is out of place I cannot tell you."
"Those that hunt you - from where do they come?" The tautness of the question told her he thought attack might be imminent.
This she could answer, though her response would no doubt frustrate him. "From everywhere and nowhere. The Maccus move from village to village in their never-ending search for those that dance in the shadows."
"Why?"
"I do not know why." Her voice sounded small as she considered his question. "All my life have I known of them, and feared them, and lived in dread of the day they would find me. Tis their entire reason for existence, this hunting and killing of Shadow Dancers. The legend speaks of some sort of revenge, though for what imagined sin I know not."
"How many have they killed?"
"I know not," she told him, feeling both at ease and uncomfortable in the deepening gloom. "I know only this - they are never satisfied by the taking of only one."
Egann cocked his head, as though he pondered this. But then she wondered, as the owl cried again, whether he merely listened for the taunting of the bird.
"How much farther do we go?" he muttered, his step never faltering. "When will this creature reveal itself, and tell what payment is required?"
Payment? Did he think the owl held his amulet hostage?
They came to a place where the undergrowth did not seem as dense. Finally, Egann stopped in a clearing, turning to search the perimeter in a few abrupt motions.
"Wait here," he told her, handing her the reins to his horse.
Automatically Deirdre took them, trying to calm her unease by backing until she stood shoulder blade to the horse's withers, and could feel every breath taken by the massive animal.
The owl gave another cry, a long, mournful ooow-ooow.
Egann touched her hand lightly, as if to make certain she understood that she was to wait.
Deirdre nodded, her heart in her throat, as he turned away.
Pushing back the underbrush, he disappeared silently in the direction of the bird's cry. She noticed that he, a Faerie Prince by his own account, did not even carry a sword for protection. Perhaps he used magic instead.
He vanished into the woods and she waited, alone and unprotected, with the feeling of dread intensifying.
The night air felt heavy, charged. Something was amiss, and she liked it not.
"Greetings."
With a gasp she spun to the left, then to the right, seeing nothing and no one.
"What sort of enchantment is this?" she murmured. The horse turned his head to look at her and snorted.
"Up here." Laced with amusement, the voice sounded full of mischief.
Perched on the lowest branch of the tree was a large owl, its yellow eyes winking merrily.
"He's gone looking for you." Helplessly, Deirdre glanced off in the direction Egann had gone. "What sort of jest do you play?"
"I?" Sounding insulted, the bird preened, ruffling its muddy-colored feathers. "I play at nothing. Rather I like to think of it as helping things along."
She supposed if she could believe in a talking owl, then she could believe those words as well. Still, she kept her back against the solid horse, feeling more safe that way.
"Helping what things along?"
"Egann, of course." The bird chuckled. "I am Fiallan of Rune."
The air shimmered, a thousand tiny stars twinkling. When the glittering brightness faded, instead of an owl, a silver-haired man stood in front of the tree, clad in a robe of some rich material that seemed to cast its own light into the gloom.
"You are the one who gave him the amulet." As soon as she'd spoken, Deirdre regretted it. What if Fiallan asked about it? Surely Egann did not wish this man to know of the amulet's disappearance.
"Ah yes. The amulet." Stroking a long beard as white as new snow, the ancient one smiled. "You have seen it then? Felt the power pulse in your hand as you held it?"
She could not lie. "Nay, I have never seen the thing. Only have I heard Egann speak of it."
"With great reverence?" Fiallan's tone sounded sharp.
"Yes." She hurried to add. "He values the thing highly."
"So highly then, that he suffered when he lost it?"
He knew. Letting her shoulders sag, Deirdre glanced once more in the direction Egann had gone. It was time he returned, and found his own answers for Fiallan's questions.
"It seems that he does." She chose her words carefully. "He came to the cliffs by the sea believing that I had stolen it."
"And did you?"
"Of course not. Of what use would such a trinket be to a Shadow Dancer?"
Cocking his head, the ancient man considered her. "Shadow Dancer, eh? Yet one such as you, who feels the ancestral tug of magic in your blood, would recognize the power of the Amulet of Gwymyrr were you to hold it in your palm. And once having done so, perhaps you might covet it?"
Straightening he
rself, so that she stood tall and true, Deirdre met his gaze steadily. "I have no doubt that I would recognize this thing, wise man of Rune, if it resonates with magic as you say. But I have never coveted anything my entire life long."
His smile, though compassionate, seemed edged with mockery. "What of your longing to see the sun?"
She clenched her hands. "See you so deeply into my very soul, that you know every secret that resides there? I have told no one of my longing, not even your Egann, who seeks you - or the owl - as we speak."
"I know much. I can tell you of your people's history, if you wish."
"The history of my people is known to me."
"Know you then, how the curse came to be?"
Deirdre went still. "No one knows that. You speak of something so far back in the mists of time that it has been forgotten."
"By some. Not by all."
Though she wanted to believe him, she could not. The history of the Shadow Dancers had been told to her by her mother, passed down from generation to generation, sacred and unchanged. How could this Fiallan, even if he truly were the Wise man of Rune, know things her own people did not?
"I do not wish to speak of it," she said firmly. "Now tell me, do you seek to hinder or help Egann in his search for this charm of yours?"
Fiallan's yellow eyes twinkled. "You are wiser than you appear."
She supposed she should take offense, but she could not. "Is that so?"
He chuckled. "I find you a worthy adversary for Prince Egann."
"Adversary?" Shaking her head, she began to pray silently that Egann would come back. "You are wrong. We are allies. I travel with him to help him search for the amulet."
"To what end?"
She didn't have a ready answer, so she said nothing.
He coughed, hiding what looked to be a smile behind his hand. "Tell me - for what purpose does Egann seek the Amulet of Gwymyrr?"
That was one thing he hadn't told her. "I think he means to return it to the rightful owner, the one you name as King in your Faerie land of Rune."
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