Shadow Magic (25 page)

             
Who served the man who wore Egann's amulet.  Another who would be King.  `Twould be well to remember that.

             
                                                                      * * *

Egann spun on his heel, ready to go outside and summon Weylyn, when a tiny mew came from the bed.  Deirdre's kitten poked her head up, bits of straw clinging to the tufted ears. 

              This gave him pause.  When had the animal changed from horse to cat?  And how?  Studying the small, furry beast, he saw no answer.  He had not wanted this kitten, and now it looked like it had been foisted on his regardless.  Though perhaps it would be easier to travel with a kitten astride his Weylyn, what was he to do with the small beast? 

With a frustrated sigh, he reached down and scooped up the creature that Deirdre had named Cinnie.  Of course he must take it - he had no choice, not really.  Deirdre would never forgive him if he left her pet.

              Outside, Weylyn waited, as though he'd heard an unspoken summons.  Rested, the sleek beast exuded power and strength. 

             
Leaping on his steed’s back, Egann scented the wind.  To find them would require even more skill than searching for the amulet, for Deirdre had no way of calling to him across the miles and the amulet had gone silent.

             
Cinnie yowled, her sharp claws digging into Egann’s shoulder.  With a shake of his head, Egann shifted the small cat, so that she might rest more comfortably.  `Twould all be much easier were he to simply use his magic to travel, and so he would, once he had determined the direction they must go.

             
He sent out his mind to seek Deirdre.  Surely it would not be so difficult to locate a tendril of her essence, a hint of her being. 

             
It took but a moment to find that which he sought.  A faint flash of vision – cliffs, the sea – then darkness.  Deirdre, one moment he sensed her, the next she vanished.  Puzzling, but he would have answers soon enough.

             
Egann turned Weylyn west, towards the coast and began to speak the words of a spell to send them.  They would go to the ocean, to the northern cliffs and the caves, so like Deirdre's home in the south. 

             
It seemed he was forever doomed to fail those who trusted him most.  Even now, Deirdre's life was in danger – because he had failed to protect her.

             
He thought of calling to Fiallan; the wise man had been like a father to him, his closest friend and greatest confidant.  Yet how could he bear to see the look of disappointment that would surely come into the older man's eyes once he learned that Egann had failed yet again? 

             
Twice now had Egann let his mentor  - and his people – down.  And Deirdre!  Forever would he see the absolute trust shining in her ever changing eyes as she gazed at him, forever would her words of confidence haunt him.  She had become more important to him than he would have believed possible. 

             
He must rescue her.  This time, there would be no possibility of failure.  For, were he to fail, he would no longer desire to live.

             
In the instant before the air began to shift, Egann glanced at the sky.  The moon, no longer merely a crescent, was half full.  Soon it would be time for Deirdre to dance.  He wanted to make sure he was with her when she did.

              They appeared on the coast with the sunrise.  Shimmering into the sharp air of day, Egann dismounted, freeing his faithful companion of bridle and saddle with a wave of his hand.   Immediately the great beast dropped on his side and rolled in the fragrant sea grass that grew along the tops of the rocky cliffs.

             
With an yowl, Deirdre's kitten leapt from the discarded saddle, scampering over to join Weylyn in the grass.

             
Watching them frolic, Egann pushed off his own exhaustion.  Though the Fae needed less rest than humans, the use of magic was taxing and his body was weary.  Yet he knew he could not afford to stop until he had found Deirdre and knew she was safe. 

             
Here, with the air smelling of salt and the gulls wheeling overhead, the sense of her felt stronger.  And, because she and Ula had to rest during the day, now would be the best time to seek her.

             
Crossing to the edge of the cliff, Egann saw that a rough path had been cut into the side.  After glancing once more at Weylyn and the kitten, who still played in the tall grass, Egann took a deep breath and began his slow decent to the caves below. 

* * *

              "Maccus!"  Recoiling in horror, Deirdre yanked her hand free from Ula's. 

             
"Nay, child."  Ula's long fingers clutched at Deirdre's arm.  "Not Maccus.  You must not allow terror to rule you."

             
"But—" Deirdre pointed, caring not that the other woman could see the violent trembling of her fingers.  The acrid smell of smoke clogged her nostrils.  Ahead burned a huge bonfire, flames leaping and blazing into the inky darkness.  Hooded figures, wearing the telltale black cloaks of the Maccus encircled the fire.

             
"'Tis how they worship their god."

             
"Aye, but they wear the hoods for warmth.  The bonfire brings that and light, nothing more," Ula soothed, still gripping Deirdre's arm.  "There will be no sacrifices here.  Come with me.  You have much to learn."

             
Deirdre balked.  "I do not think that I—"

             
"I have told you that you would have to make a choice.  You
will
be allowed to choose.  How can you do so if you do not know all?"

             
Deirdre's eyes stung in the smoky haze.  Dizzy, she coughed, then shook her head, trying to clear it.  She felt drugged.  Something in the smoke… in the air…

             
"Let us go,"  Ula said. 

             
This time, Deirdre allowed herself to be led forward, muzzily feeling her way on the uneven stone surface.  As they drew closer to the bonfire, she saw a large gathering of people, both men and women, and some of them wore the black robes of the Maccus.

             
Or did they?  She looked again.  She couldn't think – her mouth felt dry and her eyes unfocused. 

             
"See, child."  Ula's voice seemed to come from a great distance.  "It is as I promised.  You have nothing to fear."

             
Ula led her with unerring purpose, through the throngs of people, who parted for them as if they were royalty.  Here, so close to the fires, the smoke took on a sickly-sweet odor. Some sort of potent herb burned here, some sort of drug that fouled the air.  Most likely it was this that so clouded Deirdre's mind.

             
As they moved through the crowd, Deirdre took note of the people for, except in her dreams, never had she seen so many gathered in one place.  Unlike her dreams however, the colors these people wore were muted, various shades of white, milk and cream, and moonstone.               

             
They milled about, talking in voices too low for her to hear their words, small clusters of them and the occasional couple.  Some appeared to be arguing fiercely, heads bent low, arms around each others shoulders in a secretive sort of circle.  Others stared dreamily into the fire, their vacant grins attesting to the potency of the burning drug. 

             
Most glanced up at they passed.  A few offered a slow smile of welcome, a nod of this ones head, a wave of that ones hand.  Shadow dancers with hair as dark as midnight, hair like Deirdre's own, or the brilliant silver that denoted great age like Ula's mingled with the golden-haired Maccus. 

             
Suddenly, she longed for Egann.  What must he have thought, when he went to wake her and found her gone? 

             
A terrible ache filled her.  She knew all too well what the proud Fae warrior would think.  He would somehow believe her disappearance was due to some failing of his. 

             
Would he search for her?  Or would he be glad to be rid of her, free of the burden of keeping her safe from the sun.

              Her heart hurt.  Her chest hurt as well, as she found it increasingly difficult to inhale air into her sore lungs.

Blinking rapidly, Deirdre took shallow breaths, hoping the air would be less tainted the more they traveled beyond the fire.

              Once they'd left the fire and cavern behind, they traveled a narrow passage similar to the one they'd used to enter.  Again lit on both sides by torches that flickered and cast dancing shadows on granite walls, it seemed to travel ever downward, into the very bowels of the earth herself.  Here Ula stopped, releasing Deirdre's hand and turning her roughly so that each faced the other.

             
"How much do you know of the heritage of our people?"  Ula asked. 

             
"I have learned of the curse, and how it was misdirected on our people."  Choosing her words carefully, Deirdre hesitated, waiting to hear how the other woman would respond.

             
"Truly?"  Ula's white brows arched, indicating her surprise.  "How came you to be so educated?"

             
For some reason, Deirdre felt reluctant to tell her of her association with Fiallan, Wise One of the Fae.  Never having doubted her instincts before, she saw no reason to doubt them now.  A bit of caution could not hurt, especially until she found out what Ula was up to.

             
So, instead of answering, she shrugged her shoulders, hoping her gesture indicated nothing more than confusion.

             
Ula's eyes narrowed in suspicion.  "No matter," she said finally, her voice brusque.  "`Tis only recently that one of the Maccus came to us, with a plan to regain our heritage."

             
"Maccus!"  Recoiling, Deirdre took a step back.  "Have you gone mad?  The Maccus exist only to kill our kind."

             
"Not this one."  The older dancer made no move to come after her, only watching with a serene smile on her lined face.  "He has tired of the evil perpetuated by his kind, and wishes only to return things to the way they should be."

             
Neither woman spoke, each eying the other, Deirdre trying to hide her distrust and fear.  Beside them, the torches danced their wild dance, flames leaping in response to some unseen breeze.

             
"Come with me," Ula coaxed.  "You have my word that you will not be harmed."

             
Deirdre lifted her chin, facing the other woman bravely.  "Your word means little to me.  I was not brought here of my own free will."

             
This time it was Ula who shrugged, though her tight-lipped smile belied her casual air.  "You cannot go back, or the others will know you have not listened.  The one you thought would protect you cannot find you here, for his magic cannot penetrate beneath the earth.  Always has it been so.  You are alone, though you do not have to be.  Come with me to meet hear Hearne's words."

             
Deirdre gasped. "Hearne?  `Tis the ancient name of a hunter god."

             
Ula nodded.  "So?  He is Maccus.  Where once he hunted our kind, now he pursues only the truth."

             
"No."  The word slipped out before Deirdre could stop it.  Ula was a fool if she believed that any of the Maccus wanted to help the Shadow Dancers.  For too many centuries had they pursued her kind, killing in a ritual sacrifice of fire and blood, homage to their red and angry god.

             
The flickering flames ceased dancing, the air going still and stifling.  Glancing behind her, Deirdre tamped down her rising panic, wondering if she would ever breath again the fresh air of spring. 

             
"Then there is the amulet."  Ula's tone was coaxing.  "Hearne has the precious talisman."

             
The amulet.  In her terror and drugged confusion, she had nearly forgotten.  Now, with the air much clearer, she could think again.

             
"I will go with you," she said, deciding.  "If you can give me your promise that I will be released if I determine that I want no part of this."

             
"If you do not wish to join us, that is your right."  Ula smiled sadly.  "But there are other Maccus who have not joined us.  They still seek to kill all Shadow Dancers and we cannot protect you from them."

             
Deirdre's heart sank.  "By chance do these
other
Maccus wait here, for disbelievers to sacrifice?"

             
The older woman laughed.  "Nay, worry not.  We do not allow those killers to know of our secret home.  Once you meet Hearne, you shall see and seeing, believe.  I am confident of this.