Shadow Magic (4 page)

CHAPTER TWO

             
Down the stone hallways he fled, the smoke thick and acrid, the woman weighing almost nothing on his shoulder.  Two turns, so close to the raging fire he could feel its heat, and they reached the makeshift corral near the edge of the forest where he'd stabled his horse.

             
Undetected, as of yet.

             
The horse, aware of the fire, snorted, more than eager to leave this place of stone and darkness.  Tossing the woman on before him, Egann opened the gate and gave the powerful beast its head.

             
The waning moon provided a feeble light and for this he was glad.  They galloped away unnoticed, the smoke and the noise hiding their escape.

             
Only when they had left the cliffs and the sea far behind did he slow Weylyn to a walk.

             
Silent until then, Deirdre rode like one born to the saddle, straight and tall and staring blindly ahead. 

             
He thought it best not to speak to her.  Not now, while images of her people dying still filled her thoughts.

             
"Egann of... Rune," she said finally, her voice pitched low and full of grief.   "There is no such place, except in legend."

             
"Tis behind the veil," he told her, wishing he could somehow ease her pain.  "And truly Rune is my home.  Or was.  Now I remain here because I must have the amulet."

             
If she understood his unsubtle request, she made no acknowledgement.

He decided to try a different tack.

              "Tell me of these men who hunt you."

             
She sighed, flashing a grief-stricken look at him over her shoulder.  "They come from the plains below.  Long have they hated those of my kind; long have they feared us.  I do not know why, since I harm no one.  I only Shadow Dance for my people, and seek not to gain power for my own use. "

             
The bewilderment in her voice sounded genuine.  Still, he'd do well to remember that this was the wench who'd stolen his amulet. 

             
"If you truly come from Rune, then you must have magic as well."

             
Though she'd phrased it as a statement, not a question, Egann heard the unspoken query beneath her words.

             
"I could not use my magic to help your people."

             
"Why?" 

             
"It is forbidden for one of Faerie to interfere in a human battle.  We may not alter fate, nor stop death, or even ease pain and suffering.  Only to protect ourselves can we summon the power."  He said this matter-of-factly, though he knew she would not understand.  Few mortals did.

             
"You summon magic.  As I do when the spell of the moon impels me."  Her tone thoughtful, Deirdre met his gaze briefly, before she glanced away.  "Our powers must be similar."

             
He did not answer her, not wanting to tell her the truth and spoil what little illusions she had left.  As a Faerie Prince of Rune, the magic he commanded was vast and powerful.  He doubted what little spells she could conjure up by dancing under the full moon were anywhere near as strong.

             
When the salty smell of the sea was well and truly behind them, Egann reined his stallion to a halt.  He'd left Rune, throwing off the heavy mantle of the Kingship, longing only to experience a life without responsibilities.  Now it seemed he had acquired yet another.  

             
"What am I to do with you?"

             
Expression serious, she shook her head.  "I do not know.  But the dawn will arrive in a few short hours - already the sky to the East begins to lighten.  I must find a cave, or some place that is dark."

             
In his short time with them, her people had alluded to this, that the one they called Shadow Dancer could not exist in the light.  Frowning, Egann looked at her again.  In his experience, only beings of great evil relished the darkness.                What type of soul did this woman's exceptional beauty hide?

             
And what was he, who wanted only to experience the simplicity of freedom before he took on the many responsibilities that awaited him, doing with her?

             
He could see more of her now; indeed she was correct - the eastern sky had lightened to lavender.  Though she kept her face averted, he found enough aristocracy in her profile to wonder at her origins.  He had not known there were women outside of Rune as lovely as she.

             
"Tell me why you fear the day."

             
She turned to look at him, her expression quizzical.  "Truly you do not know what I am?"

             
Impatiently he shook his head. 

             
"I am a Shadow Dancer."

             
"So I have been told.  But your title tells me nothing."

             
She laughed then, a sad little sound, yet so pure and without guile or malice that he froze.  A sudden longing for home filled him, for his sisters' joyous laughter and unaffected ways. 

             
"I am sorry."  Deirdre's voice made him look at her again.  He saw no amusement in the solemn way she gazed at him.  "In Rune have you not heard of those that dance in the shadows?"

             
"Nay."  He waved his hand, his impatience causing his horse to sidestep.  With a gentle sound he calmed the beast, guiding the reins so that the restless beast stood still.

             
"I live under a curse."  Though she stared straight ahead, her expression emotionless, he sensed strong emotions within her.  "And as such I must hide in darkness when others walk freely.  The sun's bright rays are my enemy - should they touch my skin they will scald me, and I will die a painful and horrible death.  It has always been this way for those of my blood."

             
"So daybreak is like evening to you."

             
"And sunset is my dawn."  Swallowing, she lifted her chin.  "That is why we must seek shelter from the morning." 

             
Real terror he saw flash in her amber eyes, he heard it too in the quick catch of breath she made when she glanced again towards the lightening sky.  The place where they rode was flat and cave-less, endless marshes with twisted trees that offered little shelter from the sky.

             
"Please."  She laid one white hand on his sleeve, her voice husky and sensual and terrified, all at once, "Whether you believe me or not, please help me.  I must find some place to hide before the sun pushes the moon from the sky."

             
Without a signal from Egann, the stallion broke into a trot, then a gallop.  Startled, Egann glanced at the woman, who inclined her head in thanks. 

             
He decided to let the beast have its head. 

             
They pounded over the moor, the horse fleet of foot and strong of heart.  Long, dark hair streaming out behind her like a cloak, Deirdre fell silent, only the urgency of her concentration reminding him that they ran against no less a foe than the approaching dawn. 

             
Ahead he saw a blocky shape.  The ruins of an ancient stone temple, long ago abandoned.  Perhaps here they might find enough darkness for her to hide.

             
Around them, hidden in the long grass and the blunt leaves of the stunted trees, birds began to sing, heralding the slow and stately approach of the sunrise.

             
Deirdre began to tremble. 

             
Egann urged the horse into an all out run, leaning forward to help the sturdy animal run.  Deirdre did the same.

             
They reach the crumbling stone building as the first faint streamers of magenta began coloring the horizon.

             
Again unbidden, his horse skidded to a halt.

             
"Come."   Dismounting, Egann held out his hand.

             
Her small fingers seemed cold as she took it.  He felt the tremors that went through her, and he cursed as he pulled her down from the massive beast and into his arms. 

             
Registering dimly how good she felt, even for that brief moment, in two strides he had her inside the temple, where only part of the roof remained to offer any kind of shelter against the sun.

             
"There."  She pointed to what had once been an altar, with a massive stone crypt built behind.  "The tomb."

             
Again he had cause to wonder what kind of woman this was, but she gave him little time as she pushed out of his arms and began trying to move the heavy stone lid. 

             
"Please..." Her voice broke, as her desperate struggles brought no results.  "Help me.  I do not wish to die."

             
Though the very thought of lying in someone else's tomb made him shudder, he could see that if she wanted to live, she had no other choice. 

Hopefully, the crypt would be unoccupied.  Egann did not know what he would do if it were not. 

              When he placed both hands on the stone, putting all of his strength behind it, the heavy granite grated as it began to move.  Behind him, bit by bit, the sky began to lighten from lavender to palest gray.

             
Trying to help, her nails scraping as she pushed and pulled, Deirdre made a quiet sound of distress, low in her throat. 

             
The sky grew lighter.

             
Slowly, slowly, the stone slid away.

             
Frantic now, Deirdre became as one crazed, scrabbling at the heavy rock until her nails tore and her fingers bled from her futile efforts.

             
Egann continued to pull until he felt as if his arms would strain from their sockets.

             
And the cover came grudgingly, grindingly away.

             
With a glad cry she turned to him, uttering silent thanks on bloodless lips.  He could see her clearly now; it was nearly light, and very soon the first golden rays of the morning would streak across the coral sky.

             
Inside the tomb he saw naught but dusty ashes; the ancient remnants of some long dead soul.  No bones, thank the fates, no rotting flesh nor decaying human remains, just simple ashes.

             
Gripping his hand, Deirdre climbed into the stone coffin. 

             
"Can you close it?"  She pleaded with her eyes.  "Please?"

             
Though his muscles screamed, he nodded.  If he didn't help this mortal woman, she would die, and it would be the same as if he had killed her with his own hand.

             
It seemed to take much less effort to slide the stone back in place.  He had barely completed his task, wondering how she would breathe, when the sun burst over the eastern horizon in a dazzling golden display of light.

             
Now alone, he let himself sag against the rock altar.  How had he come to this?  He had started out with the simple intention of exploring the mortal world, of experiencing anonymity and freedom for a time.  Then his amulet had been stolen.  Surely, recovering the thing would seem an easy task for one with such magical skill as he.  Yet here he stood, in the ruins of some ancient human temple, without the very amulet he sought.  Worse, instead of actively seeking it, he found himself trying to protect the very woman who might have stolen it in the first place.

             
Glumly he wondered if the fates were enjoying a colossal jest at his expense. 

             
* * *

             
Long before she opened her eyes, Deirdre became aware of the rising of the moon.  Though many days would pass before it would swell to fullness, its lunar vibrations never failed to sound a chord within her, even through inches of thick stone.

             
Lifting her head, she winced as she slammed up against the heavy granite top of the tomb.  Instant panic flashed through her - she had never been one to suffer confinement of any kind, and this stone prison allowed little room for movement.    With a fierce command, she slowed her breathing, knowing from the thick staleness of the air that she had best be careful until Egann moved back the cover and freed her.

             
Assuming he had not left her here.

             
Another stab of anxiety, swiftly banished.  Any man who would go to such lengths to help a woman in trouble would not abandon her to die alone in a stone coffin.