His seed grows within you, Deirdre of the Shadows. You carry a child of light and of darkness, both of Rune and of earth. You carry Prince Egann's child.
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
Of all that the voice might have said, this was the one phrase guaranteed to stop Deirdre in her tracks.
Truth or falsehood? Reality or the beginnings of a slow slide into madness? She knew not which. And truly, it did not matter. Whether she actually carried her and Egann's child or not, she would always feel bound to him, for she loved him.
Though she stumbled in darkness, pursued by some malicious spirit, she thought only of him. His golden presence would be her light, guiding her out of blackness. She must find him, whether he needed her help or not.
This time, she believed, he would regain the amulet. That, more than anything else, was what really mattered.
Giving herself a mental shake, she forced herself to take one step, then another.
"Deirdre, what is it? What is wrong with you?"
Egann's voice, full of concern. And right beside her, so close that his breath tickled her ear. She became conscious that in truth, her hand still rested in his larger one.
Had he never truly vanished?
"I—" Relief flooded her, closing her throat and rendering her unable to speak.
"Are you all right?"
She managed a nod and then, realizing that he could not see her in the inky blackness, squeezed his hand. "I think so, now. Some enchantment took me and I thought you had gone."
"Left you? Not likely." He muttered something else, too low for her to hear.
"It seemed as though I was alone. And something spoke to me…" Letting her words trail off, she knew she could not tell Egann what the voice had said. He had enough weight on his shoulders, broad though they were. She would not add another burden without first ascertaining the truth of it.
"You went somewhere," he sounded grim, "and left only the shell of your body here with me. You would not move nor acknowledge my touch and though I called your name many times, you would not answer."
She shuddered. "I know not what happened, but it seemed to me that I searched for you, walking alone in the darkness and calling out for you as well."
"I never let go of your hand."
The air around them stirred, though no wind from out side could enter the narrow passage.
"You have my thanks for that," she said. "I believe it was your touch that kept the restless spirit who haunts this place from succeeding in driving me mad."
"What happened to you?"
About to answer, she was interrupted by a sharp cry. It sounded much like the dying wail of a wounded beast and came from the depths below them.
"We'd best hurry." Glad that this distraction would prevent Egann from wanting an answer, she tugged at his hand. "I have a feeling that the amulet is very close."
He allowed himself to be led for only a few paces. Then he moved ahead, squeezing her hand lightly. "I have this sense as well," he told her. "Though I know not why we cannot hear her voice."
As they rounded a sharp curve, the darkness seemed to lessen. Gradually, the blackness began to lift, until Deirdre could see plainly the chiseled features of Egann's beloved face. Her heart swelled with emotion, causing her throat to close and her eyes to tear. Since she could not share all the feelings the sight of his face evoked in her – longing, joy, love and, yes, regret – she swallowed. To distract herself, she concentrated on the rosy quality of the illumination.
"This glowing light is like the faint awakening of the day, before the sun has fully risen, is it not?" She knew she sounded wistful, yet could not summon up the strength to mask this particular sentiment.
Yet, if the spirit had spoken true, she carried their child. She would have to tell him eventually, but now was not the time and this was not the place. She would do so on the surface of the earth, with the summer breeze blowing her hair, under a hundred stars in the ordinary night sky. Not here, where the light surely was not natural, and where magic might either destroy or heal her depending on who wielded it.
She would tell him, that is, if he did not leave her first. Once he found the amulet, he would be free. The choice would be up to him.
"Like the sunrise? Aye, so it is." Egann's tone was preoccupied. "I sense the working of something more than the mere lifting of the darkness. We will proceed with caution and remember, no matter what you see on this journey, do not let go of my hand." His fingers tightened on hers for emphasis.
As they walked, the hollow sound of their footsteps seemed to echo. Again the cry from below sounded, fainter this time, though with equal urgency and fear.
"From what nature of beast does that sound come?"
"I know not," Egann spoke softly, a warning implicit in his low voice. "But the cause of such a noise cannot bode well for its maker."
"Think you that it is Hearne?"
He shrugged and did not answer.
"I do not smell smoke," she said, nervously sniffing the air. "Nor do I hear the sound of a large gathering, as there was before in that other place under the earth."
"Listen." Halting, he motioned her to silence.
Snuffling sounds came from below them.
"Weeping?" she whispered.
He frowned. "Or laughter."
Together they listened. Deirdre wondered if Egann felt as hesitant as she to continue.
"We must find the amulet."
"True."
Expelling his breath in a harsh sound, Egann cupped her chin with his free hand. "I know not why Fiallan insisted that you must be with me in this journey." His magnificent eyes glowed. "But know this, little Shadow Dancer, I would not willingly take you into such danger."
This time she could not prevent her emotions from showing. Not with him so close, looking at her in such a way. Hand trembling, she reached up and brushed a lock of his golden hair from his brow.
"I know," she told him. "But there is no other place that I would rather be than here, with you."
His reaction was swift. He lowered his head and kissed her, fiercely, with a possessive violence that shook her all the way to her soul.
When he let her go, holding only on to her hand, she swayed, unable to take her gaze from his face.
"I will protect you, Deirdre." He spoke his vow in a harsh voice.
"This I know." Striving to lighten the mood, she summoned a wavering smile. "And because I believe in you, I have little fear." This was not a falsehood, for truly she did not fear for her own safety. She worried for Egann, and what this Hearne might do if he had found a way to unleash the amulet's power.
But she said none of these things. Instead, she swallowed hard, lifted her chin, and deliberately tore herself away from Egann's intent gaze, focusing on the deep cleft in his chin.
"Shall we go?"
After a moment's hesitation, he inclined his head slightly. "I am ready."
Together they rounded the next corner. Now that they could actually see the sharp slope of the stone path, Deirdre found the unrelenting downward spiral slightly less intimidating than traversing it in total darkness.
As they continued on, the turns came closer together, sharper and more abrupt.
"We near the end," Egann said.
Indeed, after several final, dizzying turns the path ended, leaving them standing on a large, flat stone floor in a room with only three visible sides. There had to be a fourth wall, yet they could not see it in the shadows ahead.
"An huge cavern." Egann ran his free hand over the uneven surface of the rock wall as they went past. "`Twould take a lot of magic to bring forth so much light."
"There are no torches," Deirdre mused. "Yet we can see as if there were a hundred lit candles. From what source comes the light?"
His reply was brief and to the point. "Magic. `Twould seem this place makes its own rules. "
They continued forward, yet Egann's steps slowed. Though she understood his hesitation, she wondered at the reason for it
.
"Know you something of what lays ahead?"
He shot her a grim look, and what she saw in his expression made her catch her breath. There was a lethal readiness in his dark gaze, the intent ferocity of a warrior, and for the first time she understood how some could come to fear him.
He was after all, a Prince of Rune. And, were he to admit and accept it, the true King of the Fae.
"Whatever awaits us – Hearne or something else - cannot be good," he warned. "And if I must fight, then I cannot keep my hold upon your hand."
"I understand." Worrying her lower lip between her teeth, she wished Fiallan would put in an appearance. There were many question she wished to ask the wise man, and there was one she knew she must ask Egann now.
"What of your magic?"
"What of it?"
Matter-of-factly she reminded him of his own words spoken earlier. "You have told me that your magic deserts you while under the earth, yet this place seems full of enchantment and spells."
His face was full of strength and an assurance that instantly buoyed her spirits. "I have no doubt that the amulet will assist me. You have heard the talisman welcome me with great joy. I do not believe that Hearne will not be able to keep it from coming to my aid when I call."
Stunned, she tilted her head. "Truly you think it will be so simple?"
"Simple?" Flashing her a confident smile, he gave an eloquent shrug. "Mayhap. I will not know until I try."
Egann saw from her expression that she wanted to believe him. Disbelief and hope warred with each other, but in the end he knew that she would have no choice but to accept his words and wish for the best.
As did he.
In truth he had no idea whether the amulet would respond to his summons. After all, what right did he truly have to it? None, since he had declined to take the throne.
At this point, his desires were simple. He wanted to recover the amulet, return it to Fiallan, and find the spell to remove Deirdre's curse as he had promised.
Another cry, so sharp that it lasted but an instant, came from the shadows of the other side of the cavern. The awful pitch and terror of the sound could not have issued from a human throat, for such a cry could only mean one thing. Death.
Immediately, he started forward. Deirdre kept pace with him, her steps sure and unafraid.
Together they moved into the darker part of the cave.
The earth began to shake. From far behind them, there came a loud roar. The awful sound of rocks shifting, falling, closing forever the way they had come. The air filled with dust and momentarily the light snuffed out. He saw black then, like the blink of an eye, it became bright again.
With one final shudder, the earth's movement ceased.
Deirdre stood poised for flight.
"The rockslide was back near the entrance," Egann said, keeping his voice calm. Not for one second did he wish to betray to her the utter finality he had heard in that sound; if they did not find another passage out, they would be trapped here forever under the earth.
She glanced around wildly, a fine gray powder coating her black hair. Egann could not help himself, he reached out and lightly brushed it from her with his hand.
"We are in no immediate danger."
Still silent, she nodded. The absolute trust he saw in her pewter eyes humbled him.
"Come on." Fingers intertwined, he led her forward.
Only silence greeted them as the reached the third and final wall. Silence and nothing else. The cavern appeared to be empty.
"This can't be all there is," Deirdre whispered as they came to a halt. "How could it end here, like this, with no other path?"
"Nay." Though he knew not what kind of enchantment had been worked upon this place, he had no doubt some secret opening existed somewhere in the rock walls. Otherwise, their entire journey had been in vain. This he refused to believe.
"Help me," he asked, releasing her hand momentarily to began exploring the bumpy stone surface of the wall.
Soon enough his supposition proved true. He found a hollowed groove at eye level about ten paces farther along the darkened wall. Here the stone, where ordinarily rough as sand, had been carved smooth, like a polished gem. Symbols of some archaic language had been carved here also, and Egann ran his fingers along the raised outlines, pressing hard.
As he did, the wall began to move. With a loud groaning and grating sound, the huge stone structure slowly slid to one side, creating an opening. Tendrils of mist, dancing in a breeze that did not exist, drifted through, enveloping them in a fog-like haze.
"Here," he called to Deirdre, turning to reach for her hand before he led them into the darkness.
"Where are you?" He heard her voice but could not see her. The mist had grown thick and soupy, the cold dampness blurring his eyes and chilling his skin.
Without thinking he waved his hands in a quick spell, meaning to clear the haze. When nothing happened, not even a brief tingling in his fingertips, he cursed his fickle magic and strode into the very heart of the miasma.
"I cannot see you," she said.
Morthar take this, her voice came from a distance, as though she had gone on ahead of him. "Where are you?"
"Slowly I move forward." She sounded calm; this was good.
"I will come to you," he said. He moved in a wide circle, knowing she was near – after all, there was nowhere else she could go in the cavern, except through the new opening his explorations had created.
His heart caught, then began to pound. Surely she hadn't--
"Egann?" Fainter now, her cry seemed to come from a greater distance.
Still the fog swirled around him, blurring his vision. Then, with a loud groan, the opening in the wall began to slide closed.
His heart stuttered, then began to pound. Was Deirdre in the cavern on this side? Or had she already entered the doorway in the wall?
"Do not move," he ordered, pushing away a brief flash of panic. He knew not what perils awaited through the opening in the stone, but he did not want Deirdre to face them alone.
This side? Or the other? From the sound of her voice… Praying he was right, he plunged through the narrow opening. An instant later it grated closed behind him.
The cloying mist began to disperse.
"Deirdre?"
"I am here."
As the haze cleared, he saw her. Slender and still, she stood with her hands clasped together, waiting.
"I knew you would find me," she said, her welcoming smile trembling around the edges.
Crossing to her, he pulled her into his arms, letting the soft warmness of her reassure him, not wanting her to know that for a moment, he had doubted his own ability to find her, to keep her safe.
His brave Deirdre, so determined to hide her own fear.
She buried her face in his throat, wrapping her arms around him to keep him close. He breathed in the familiar scent of her, so like springtime and flowers, and closed his eyes. Though each time he touched her, the sexual pull seemed stronger, he merely brushed a kiss against the top of her head and felt content to simply hold her.
Deirdre pulled away first, wearing a lopsided smile that tugged at his heart. "We must go on," she said, her voice calm and certain. "For even if we could clear the first rock slide away, now that the stone door has closed behind us, the path we traveled has definitely been closed."
Summoning up a smile of his own, he reached out and captured her hand. "No more shall we be separated." He was not sure whether he reassured himself or her with his words.
"Aye." She squeezed his fingers to show that she agreed.
The unnatural fog had totally dissipated. Now the light was bright enough to show that they stood among the remains of an ancient castle. On the remnants of one wall, an archway bore an inscription carved in the stone, the raised letters still unblemished and easy to read.
"So we shall be called Maccus," Egann read out loud. "This place belonged to them, long ago."
"What happened to make it
fall into such ruin?"
"I know not. But `twas here, centuries ago, that the Maccus must have come. Banished from Rune, this was their city, hidden by a stone door, built far from the prying gaze of both mankind and Fae."
"Now they have abandoned it." She sounded relieved. "I am glad, as I would rather not venture into a city full of Maccus."
"This makes no sense." Tugging on her hand, he stepped closer to the center of the ruined castle. "Unless things were different in years gone past, why would they live in a place where magic disappears?"
"For their own protection." A voice rang out, gleeful and confident and full of an awful, terrible, madness. Hearne.
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
"Magic is evil," Hearne continued, his twisted smile contrasting with the wild intensity of his gaze. "And all those who use it should be destroyed."
Since he wore the Amulet of Gwymyrr around his neck, such a declaration indicated the true depths of his madness.
Narrow-eyed, Egann studied his opponent, trying to gauge the advisability of simply running at the man, overpowering him with his fists, and yanking the silver-chain off him.
Unless he could come up with a better plan, this was it.
"Something is wrong." Deirdre's fingers tightened in his, her low voice worried. "Look at the amulet. The gems sparkle brightly no longer. Even the silver luster has dulled and gone dim."
She spoke true. The ornament that Hearne so boldly wore appeared to be but a pale imitation of the genuine talisman. It lay flat and lifeless against his chest, without a flicker of energy, without a single note of lament or song.
"Do you have no response?" Hearne's voice, full of contempt, echoed in the stone chamber. "No words of defense, no denouncement you might make?"
"I care little for your beliefs, misguided or not," Egann told him. "I only want back what belongs to my people."
"This?" With a sneering smile, Hearne held up the silver pendant. "`Tis but a worthless bauble now. You are welcome to it."
Yanking the chain over his head, he tossed the amulet onto the mossy rocks near Egann's feet, where it landed with a heavy clatter.
Egann made no move to step forward and pick it up.
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