Fiallan said nothing, only stood with the proud, stiff posture of the very old, the expression in his faded eyes unreadable.
"I would have an answer, my old friend." Folding his massive arms in front of him, Egann faced the wise man.
"I too would hear this answer," Deirdre said, coming forward so that she stood at Egann's side. If her instincts were correct, then Egann would not find the Wise Man of Rune's reply palatable.
"I think you already know what I will say." A weight of sorrow lay in Fiallan's quiet voice. "While you traveled under the earth, you lost your greatest ally, then your greatest strength. Because you are strong you managed to regain both of them. You are our chosen champion, and our rightful king. `Tis difficult for me to believe that you would seek a means to run away yet again."
Egann recoiled, taking a step back as if the old man had slapped him. "This is not the same," he said, passion making his ardent tone ferocious. "If another has been found, I ask that he step forward to take up the quest. Hearne and his kind threaten Deirdre. I have given her my oath to protect her. If I continue on this quest, she could be hurt, or killed. I will not allow another life to be lost because of my actions."
An awful ache bloomed in Deirdre's chest. "This is because of me?" she whispered. "You would abandon your search for this reason?"
Egann ignored her, continuing to watch the older man, who remained stubbornly silent.
Fiallan looked at Egann when he spoke. "Your Shadow Dancer has a role to play in this. She must accompany you in all your travels."
Surprised, Deirdre closed her mouth and bowed her head. It was as she'd suspected. And, truth be told, secretly she was glad, for she was not yet ready to let her prince go.
"Tell me the truth – exactly how strong is the amulet?" Egann demanded, frustration plain upon his chiseled features. "It seems to me that if this Hearne has learned to use its powers, he would have been able to wreck more havoc. It may be that the amulet is not as powerful as you think. If Hearne and his kind have mastered its magic, what would become of Rune?"
"What do you think?" Fiallan finally roared, his slight frame shaking with emotion. "We would have another war on our hands, Maccus against Fae. Even the humans would be dragged into it again. Is this what you want?"
Egann narrowed his eyes. Deirdre could almost feel the irritation rolling off him.
"All I know of the amulet is from legends and stories you have told me?" His mouth curved in a bitter smile. "Never have I asked for much, other than the right to live my life as I choose. Yet you insist on placing the weight of the world upon my shoulders. Have a care, old one. I will only allow myself to be led about by the nose for so long."
At this statement, Deirdre looked from one to the other, not in confusion, but with dawning awareness. "Is this all a game to you?" she asked the older man, allowing her gaze to rake over the Egann as well, including both in her fierce question. "I begin to think we are both but pawns in some master plan of yours, moving about at your whim?"
To her surprise, Fiallan gave her a slow smile. "Do you realize exactly what is at stake?"
The knowledge did not come to her in a bright flash of blinding revelation, the way she might expected, had she any expectations at all. The realization came slowly, as she saw the pain-tinged pride in Fiallan's golden eyes, as he waited for Egann, the man he plainly regarded as a son, to accept his destiny.
Judging from the quiet fury in his clenched-jawed expression, Egann had no immediate plans to accept any such thing. So stepping forward, she placed a hand on Fiallan's pristine white sleeve. "If this task truly is so important, can you not aid us somehow in finding the amulet?"
The Wise One started shaking his head before she even finished speaking. "A king is forged by his choices," he said, giving her a long look, then a wink. "And I never was one to interfere. However, I will tell you this," he fixed Egann with a piercing stare, "you have less than a fortnight to find the amulet. Before the full moon disappears from the sky, you must bring the Amulet of Gwymyrr home."
"But-" Before she could ask anything further, Fiallan disappeared, leaving her clutching at empty air.
"By the balls of Ronan," Egann swore, his eyes icy with rage. She wanted to go to him, to somehow comfort him, but before she could move he cursed again and strode away, leaving her with the sound of the sea and the wind, and the familiar night sky, empty except for the stars winking like winter ice overhead.
* * *
He had spoken truth to Fiallan - never had he asked for this. Indeed by leaving Rune he'd sought to avoid the crushing responsibility that came with being King. And now… now… he clenched his fists, wishing he could laugh but knowing if he did so he just might go mad.
According to Fiallan, the fate of his entire race rested on whether or not he retrieved the amulet. Not to mention Deirdre's precious life, and the ever-present threat of death at the hands of the Maccus to all Shadow Dancers. Then he had their misguided curse, that of forbidden sunlight, to deal with as well.
Yet even as the weight of such duty threatened to devastate him, he knew that despite Fiallan or Deirdre, he still had a choice. He could still walk away, let them find some other powerful mage, to become their defender.
He could… but of course, he would not. Always had this been his greatest fault and, truth be told, the true reason he had declined the throne. He cared too much. Thus, the possibility of failure, acceptable in others, would devastate him. As it had when his beloved brother had perished while under his care.
They should have chosen a better champion.
Dragging his hand through his hair, Egann stared at the silver moon above. It seemed his refusal to assume the throne of Rune had set into motion a series of events that conspired to keep him exactly where he didn't want to be.
"I am sorry." Deirdre's soft voice behind him made him turn. She came to him, wrapping her arms tight around his middle, resting her head over his heart.
As he held her, he realized that by allowing himself to wallow in self-pity and doubt, he wasted time and energy. Both would be better spent finding the blasted amulet, and putting an end to this Hearne and all of his evil plans.
Smoothing her hair with his hand, he released his breath in a great sigh. "I have promised you that no matter the cost, I will stop the Maccus, so that no more Shadow Dancers will die at their hands."
"Yes," she whispered, her voice muffled against his chest. "And now the amulet helps them hunt us."
Shame filled him then, shame that he had momentarily allowed his uncertainty to rule him, to make him weak. He would not do so again.
"Deirdre." He spoke her name with hesitation, wondering how it could be that she still believed in him.
She lifted her head, meeting his questioning look with one of pure trust, the dove gray of her eyes glowing with it.
"Your eyes are—" he began inanely.
"Another color." She smiled up at him. "Yes, I know.
The sweet curve of her mouth distracted him, and he became conscious of the way the soft arch of her body pressed against him. He felt his own body stir, and by the darkening of her pupils he knew she felt it as well.
"Not yet," he cautioned, when she made to rub against him, much like her small kitten would. "There is much I must say to you."
Still smiling, she frowned, standing on her toes to touch her lips to his. "No, there is not," she whispered against his mouth, before moving her own enticingly in another sweet kiss. "Words are only that, mere words. I do not need to hear you speak them. I trust you," she said.
His chest swelling with unfamiliar emotion, he captured her lips, his blood thickening with desire. As she moved seductively against him, he felt his manhood swell and harden.
From the tall grass, Weylyn nickered a reminder. Cinnie echoed him, telling them that the small beast had once again changed form.
Reluctantly, Egann pulled away. Placing one last kiss on Deirdre's soft mouth, he took her hand. "We must move on, while the darknes
s still holds. The sooner we find Hearne and the amulet, the better advantage we will have."
With a soft sigh, she nodded. "How will we find him, when he has the talisman's magic to hide him and can travel about at will?"
"Like attracts like." Lifting his hand, Egann called Weylyn to him with a gesture. The huge beast ambled over, Cinnie at his side. He laid a hand on the horse's thick neck. "`Tis time to send you home to Rune, my friend. Cinnie, do you wish to travel with him? You may regain your true form once you arrive."
Deirdre made a sound of protest, and Cinnie the horse went to her, butting her gently with her shaggy head. Wrapping her arms around Cinnie's furry neck, Deirdre gave her a fierce and quick hug. "You have my leave," she said, "if this is what you want. Go."
Both horses nickered.
Egann muttered the words that began the spell of sending. The telltale shift in the atmosphere lasted but a moment, then Weylyn and Cinnie shimmered and vanished.
Deirdre turned away, but not before he saw the sadness in her expression.
"Your changeling will be fine," he said, knowing he must not attempt to comfort her, not as long as this fierce desire for her still simmered in him, barely under control. "Weylyn will take her to roam the plains of Morthar, and together they shall hunt."
"I know." When she turned back to face him, she wore a determined smile on her lovely face. "What now?"
"We go forward. The moon is past her first quarter." He pointed to the silver crescent, which still hung above them in the middle of the sky. "It will be less than eight days before she swells with fullness."
The look Deirdre gave him was bleak. "That means soon I will begin to hear her call."
"Aye."
She shivered, maybe because the night air had become cool. "How will we travel?"
Taking a deep breath, Egann gathered himself, centering the energy that hummed inside of him. "By magic, of course. The element of secrecy and surprise no longer matters. Hearne knows that we follow."
He held out his hand for her to take. "Come, for we must return to Tintagel. There is a cave of magic along that rocky coast. It is there that I believe we shall find Hearne and the Amulet of Gwymyrr."
Surprised, Deirdre could not say she wasn't glad they would remain along the sea coast, after all it was a place where she felt at home and thus more safe than anywhere else in Britain. Still, she had always trusted her dreams and felt it her duty now to remind Egann of them.
"Do not forget the cave I saw when I slept," she said quietly. "Though after going underground, I cannot bear the thought of it, this cave is where I dreamt I saw the amulet."
"And Hearne." The tensing of his jaw revealed his frustration. "I know the cave of which you speak, it lies up the coast near Tintagel. Long has it been a place of great power. Perhaps he has traveled there, but from this cave I now believe he has traveled deep under the earth once more."
The mere mention of the underground made Deirdre shudder. "Under the earth," she repeated.
Egann shrugged. "`Tis possible. We shall go there and find out." He held out his hand for her to take. She did so, sliding her fingers into the warmth of his much larger grip.
Then, with the now familiar disorientation and shifting of gravity, he invoked his magic and they went.
The journey took but a second; she closed her eyes and let the sweep and swell of the magic claim her, with her one connection to reality the comfort of Egann's big hand.
When she opened her eyes and took a deep breath, Deirdre's first thought was that the air smelled the same, heavy with moisture, and that the same salt-scented wind blew. But then she heard a hum, resonating from the rocky earth beneath her feet, and realized that Egann had spoken true. Magic resided here indeed, and if the presence of it was great enough for one such as she, a mere mortal, to discern, then most likely Hearne had detected the magic as well.
The sharp screech of a gull drew her from her thoughts and she became conscious that Egann watched her.
"Are you prepared?" he asked.
At first the question seemed strange, and she opened her mouth to tell him so. But then she thought of the enormity of the task before them, and contented herself with a tiny nod of agreement. "I am ready," she told him, letting her gaze travel the stark planes that made up his beloved face. "But one thing remains that I would like to know."
He raised one golden brow as he waited for her question.
"I know he has the amulet and that he covets its magic. And I realize he wants to lead an army of Maccus into Rune, were he able to overcome the banishment. But what does Hearne want with the Shadow Dancers?"
"`Tis my belief that he seeks yet a more efficient method by which to end their lives." His blunt answer only confirmed her own suspicions. "He gathers them in one place, so that they will be easier to kill."
With her hand still gripped tightly in his, he led them down the rocky path. The place appeared deserted, the savage spray of the surf pounding the jagged rocks below. With a quick glance up, she noted the slow descent of the moon in the still dark sky.
"Worry not, small dancer." Egann's voice sounded soothing. "Once we enter the cave, you will be well protected from the sunrise."
She squeezed his hand in answer.
Not until they arrived at the mouth of the cave did she hesitate, remembering the acrid smoke and stale air underground and the terror and blackness.
"`Tis of here that I dreamt," she told him. "Yet because of the other place, I fear to enter."
"Worry not, for this cave will not be like the other," Egann promised. "This is a place of great magic and truth. Long have the men of my people traveled her, when the need to be alone became overwhelming. This cave is for meditation, the inward seeking of insight. You will find naught of the other place here, only unease caused by Hearn on his passage through."
"You do not think he remains here?" Though she tried to keep the fear from her voice, she heard the uncertain quiver to it and sighed.
"Nay, not in the entrance." Egann sounded certain, calm and sure and fierce. "One such as he, with so much evil inside of him, would not like the way this cave encourages one to look within oneself. He will have moved on, gone deeper into the dragon's lair, seeking the answers to his questions about the amulet."
Deirdre heard one word. "Dragon?"
He laughed, the sound swallowed by the roar of the sea. "A dragon of ancient times. It no longer exists, at least not here, in this world. That particular dragon was hunted by men and killed over one hundred years ago. This cave is but the entrance to a deeper, more mystical place deep below. `Tis there I believe we will find Hearne."
"But magic is suspended so far beneath the ground."
"Aye." His voice sounded grim. "But Hearne has the amulet."
When they reached the uneven sand of the short beach, they stopped, facing the towering cliff. Because the moon was not full and provided limited light, she could not make out the shape of the cave in the dark face of the rocky wall.
"It is there," he assured her, seeming again to have read her mind. "Worry not, we will find it, for already I sense the amulet's presence."
Deirdre listened, hoping to hear again the sweet sound of the amulet's song of welcome. She heard nothing but the crash of the waves, the screech of the gulls, and the empty howl of the wind as it battered the sea.
"Will the amulet sing again?" she asked, pushing away the odd flash of wild sorrow that stabbed her at the thought.
"Perhaps." He sounded doubtful. "While the residue of its magic lingers, something is missing. Somehow the amulet does not seems as strong as before."
"How is such a thing possible?"
He hesitated, his gaze distant as he stared up the hulking shadow of the cliff. "I know not what effect the cave has had on the amulet's magic."
Watching him, she worried her bottom lip between her teeth. "Tell me more of this cave."
Egann made a sound, a short bark of laughter or some other, more feral noise. "`Tis known in
both our worlds, yours and mine. Many say that this place belongs to Myrddin."
"I have heard the name," she admitted. "For once a bard traveled to my home and sang of this wizard."
"Aye." Egann's face might have been carved from the same black stone as the cliffs, so grim did his countenance appear. "The magic that he made here remains so powerful, that—"
An otherworldly shriek, rising and falling rapidly in pitch, issued forth from the dark mouth of the cave. `Twas both human and inhuman, terrible and terrifying. It rose with the wind, an awful howl then, as abruptly as it had begun, fell silent.
"What was that?" Deirdre gasped.
"Come." Egann grabbed her hand, pulling her at a cautious run towards the cave. "Something bad has happened to the amulet, as well as the one who wrongly wears it. We can only hope we are not too late."
At the base of the cliff Egann pulled her to a stop. Cupping her chin in his hand, he kissed her mouth hard. "As I started to tell you earlier, my people have made it law that only males may enter The Cave of Myrddin."
"Why?" She cocked her head inquisitively while she tried to catch her breath and waited for him to finish.
He met her gaze, his own expression grim and unreadable.
"The cave gives truth and some cannot bear it. Only a few times can I remember when a Fae woman was unwise enough to attempt to enter."
"What happened to them?"
"They went mad," he said, his tone flat. "Each and every one of them."
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
"But you are mortal," Egann continued. "And mortals do not have magic shimmering in their blood. So you will be safe."
Ready to offer reassurance, he was gratified when Deirdre simply nodded, lifted her chin and asked a simple question.
"Why? What made the women go insane and not the men?"
He glanced up at the yawning dark mouth of the cave. No more sounds issued forth from it; rather an ominous silence had fallen.
Shadow Magic Page 18