Shadow Magic (33 page)

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.

"Go ahead," Hearne taunted.  "Take it, it's yours.  Isn't this what you two have been searching for these many nights?"

             
"Not this."  Egann indicated the thing on the ground. 

"This insipid necklace is a poor forgery of that which we seek.  What have you done with the true Amulet of Gwymyrr?"

              To his astonishment, the other man threw back his head and laughed.  The loud sound echoed off the cavernous walls, rebounding several times until it finally faded away.

             
"Do you not recognize your own talisman?"

             
Though the mockery in the other man's tone infuriated him, Egann clenched his jaw and kept his tone level.

             
"This is not the Amulet of Gwymyrr.  `Tis naught but a bad copy, for no hint of magic resonates from its hollow shell.  I say to you again, where is my amulet?"

             
Smile sly, the Maccus shook his head.  Wearing an exaggerated expression of patience, he indicated the silver necklace that remained in the dirt near Egann's feet.

             
"I have drained the enchantment from the gems, taking the magic into myself." Hearne's eyes glittered, his entire body seeming to radiate with power.  "Did you not hear earlier the thing's pitiful cries, as it sought futilely to fight me?"

             
Egann and Deirdre exchanged a quick glance.  The horrible shrieks they had heard had come from the amulet?  He did not believe it.  Judging from the stubborn set of her chin, neither did Deirdre.

             
Still, the amulet
could
sing.

             
"If you find magic to be so evil, then why do you want to live with it inside you?"  Deirdre's softly voiced question drew the other man's gaze.  A chill ran down Egann's spine even as he felt Deirdre shiver.  

             
"Only one can have such magic.  I will be the one. I will be that which channels my people's power."  This declaration Hearne made in a voice that rang with certainty. 

"Why?"

"A great wrong was done my people, long ago by yours.  History always repeats itself.  For we shall fight again an ancient battle, and this time the Maccus are certain to prevail.  We shall retake that which is ours by right – Rune.  And all because of the Amulet of Gwymyrr."  Again he laughed.

             
Was this true?  Egann refused to believe in the certainty of the Maccus' remark.  For too long had he heard tales of what would happen to one who wore the Amulet of Gwymyrr without right.  Perhaps Hearne only
thought
he had drained it.  Perhaps...

             
Then why did the ancient gemstones look dull and empty?

             
With a quick motion, Egann stepped forward and scooped up the silver pendant.  It sparked once, a brief flash, a glimmer which quickly faded. 

             
If Hearne had spoken true, Egann now held in his hand that which had been the focus of his and Deirdre's long search.  He held in his hand his birthright, the precious repository of centuries of Faerie magic, three gemstones in a heavy silver setting.  The spiral chain that he had once refused to wear around his neck ran through his fingers.   Was this truly the fabled talisman?  The amulet whose song beguiled and enchanted, and had once welcomed him with unrestrained joy.

Silent now, it no longer even recognized his touch.

A great sorrow filled him, then a rage such as he had not felt since the mortal fool had caused Banan's death.

"How dare you," he roared.  Closing his hands around the dull silver chain, he took a step forward.  "You have no right—"

"I have every right."  Still laughing, Hearne made several quick motions with his hands.  "While all you have is a worthless bauble."

Knowing the other man's movements meant he invoked some sort of magical spell, Egann tried to summon up enough of his own power to countermand it.  Instead of the usual hum beginning in his veins he felt… nothing.

"Some things," Hearne's voice rang out, clear and confident and strong.  "Require a sacrifice."

Beside him, Deirdre gave a violent shudder. 

"What is happening?"  She cried, her voice full of shock and terror.  "Egann, help me—"

With cutting boom so loud that the mountain trembled, Deirdre disappeared.  One moment she stood beside him, her hand cradled in his.  The next, she simply winked out of existence. 

And Hearne too vanished. 

While rocks fell around him and the dust rose to choke him, Egann stood in stunned disbelief.  Instead of Deirdre's fingers, his hand now closed around empty air.  Wherever Hearne had gone, he had taken Deirdre with him.

"He has not traveled far."  Fiallan's voice reverberated in the small space.  "There is another passage, which connects this cave to the one where you met him earlier."

A white owl perched on a stone ledge.  Fiallan's other form, the one he wore when he wished to observe in secret.

"Time is of the essence," in a sonorous voice, the elder continued.  "Hearne was right about one thing - all too soon will history seek to repeat itself.  Take the Amulet of Gwymyrr and go after him."

Egann opened his fist, staring at the now-worthless necklace of muted silver and dulled gems.  Without its magic to assist him, he would not be able to follow much more quickly than a mortal could walk. 

The central ruby began to glow, like the smoldering embers of a hearth fire.  Then, just as quickly as if doused by a bucket of ice water, it dimmed.

Fury burned in him, equally hot, at what this Hearne, this interloper, had done to his people's amulet, the ancient repository of the Fae's magic.

"Your amulet," Fiallan said, reading his mind.  "Only you can restore its power."

"Enough."  Egann shook his head.  "I seek to gather my strength for another attempt to follow them by magical means."

"Your magic deserts you here, under the earth.  To regain your power, you must first claim the amulet."

The rest, though unspoken seemed to echo in the cavern. 

And thus claim your heritage
.

King.  And Warrior too. 

"What else is a King, but one who cares deeply?"

The question, as so many others asked of him by Fiallan over the years, was rhetorical. 

"I have always cared greatly."  Egann's response came torn from the very depths of his soul.

"Yet you wished to walk away."  The white bird, pristine feathers glowing, watched him with an unblinking stare.

"I believed there would be another."  And he had.  He had even pictured such a one.  Tall and fierce and kingly, he wore Banan's long dead face.

"Another who could care more than you?"

"Nay!"  Clenching his jaw, again Egann regarded the amulet.  This time the sapphire gem, the current color of Deirdre's eyes, briefly glimmered.  "One who could serve my people better.  Can you not see?  `Tis because my people matter so much that I stepped aside.  I could not give them less than capable hands to guard them."

"And what of the woman?"

The woman?  His mortal Shadow Dancer?  Her he regarded more highly than any other.  In fact he—

"I love her."  For a second, he closed his eyes.  When he opened them again, he saw that the emerald gem of the amulet shimmered with green fire.

"To save her you must become King.  And in doing so you will save our people."

For an instant, one shattering heartbeat or two, he heard the high, lovely sound of the amulet's song.  Feeble and faint, nonetheless the notes seemed to welcome him, to invite him to take back what he had lost.

King. 

He took a deep breath. 

King.

His stomach clenched.

Yet who else would take up the mantle of power, who else would step forward to save the Fae and Rune and the woman Egann loved?  And, even if another man were to do so, would Egann step willingly aside and let another attempt this, the most important rescue in the history of his people?

Nay.  For too long had he refused to see that which he carried inside his heart.  His love, his heritage, his birthright.

King.  He himself, Egann of Rune.  For the first time he
felt
the unshakable bond he and the amulet had always been fated to share.  Finally, he accepted his destiny.

Acknowledging the truth of the Wise One's words, Egann lifted the heavy silver chain high.

In tandem, the gemstones glowed – blood-red, cobalt, and celadon.

Bowing his head, he placed the Amulet of Gwymyrr around his neck.  And felt the resonance of its power began to vibrate in his veins.

King.  The amulet seemed to whisper. 

The white owl vanished.

A moment later, King Egann of Rune inclined his head, and, with a quick motion of his hand, went after the woman he loved and would make his Queen.

* * *

"Tonight, the full moon will rise."  Hearne looked at Deirdre expectantly, his wicked eyes glowing.  "Soon you will dance."

Pushing away her simmering rage, Deirdre gestured at the hundreds of other Shadow Dancers that gathered in the immense cavern.  "What of the others?"

"Oh, they will dance as well." 

Though she had no desire to exchange words with this man, Deirdre had to know.  "For what purpose?"