Shadow Magic (15 page)

             
“Nonsense.”  Though he dismissed her words with a brusque shake of his head, he gave her a small smile of his own to let her know that she had pleased him.  “`Tis only that you have not seen many warriors, in your remote caves there on the cliffs.”

             
“True.  And never have I seen a warrior of Rune.”  She smiled back at him, lighting up her small face with such transcendent beauty that his throat began to ache.  Wisely, he resumed walking, keeping her hand entwined in his.

             
This time when they walked in silence, it seemed companionable to Egann.  Though he should not, he found himself at peace, for the first time desire for her did not consume him.

             
In a short while they came to the outskirts of the village.  Under the starlit sky, the place lay sleeping.  Even the taverns had closed, so late – or early - was the hour.  Striding with Deirdre down the empty road, Egann felt the back of his neck begin to tingle.  He’d learned well to heed this warning, though it never cautioned good signs.

             
Halting, he held his hand up for silence and listened. Ah, there it was.  From a distance, he heard the quiet clop of a metal-shod horse moving steadily towards them.  A far-off dog began to bark an alert.  Someone approached on the road from the East, from behind them.

             
“Quickly.”  Yanking her with him, Egann pulled her around the corner of a deserted church, onto a darkened side road, keeping her close. 

             
“What is it?” she asked, her voice muffled against his chest. 

             
“I am not certain.  I know only that whoever or whatever it is means us no good.”

             
The clattering of the hooves grew louder.  Deirdre peered out from under his arm as the rider less horse came into view.

             
“It’s Weylyn!”  Excited, she struggled against his grip.  “You summoned him after all.”

Egann brought up his arm, encircling her with it.

“Why don’t you go and greet him?” she hissed.

             
“Nay.”  With his grim tone, he warned her.  “That creature is not my horse.  I have not called him to me.  I know not what manner of beast that is, but it is not Weylyn.”

             
Immediately her struggles ceased.  “How do you know?” she whispered.  “It bears a perfect likeness to your stallion.”

             
“Remember that iron is deadly to my kind.  That one’s hooves are shod in it.”

             
She shifted against him, the restless movement of her lush body against him feeling sensual to his already overcharged senses.  Somehow he found he now cupped the full breast that had been pressed against his arm.

As the massive horse tromped past, Egann found himself caressing Deirdre, stroking and squeezing, despite the warning that sounded in his mind.

              He felt it as her heart began to race, his body quickening as her nipples pebbled and hardened, his own breathing coming as shallow and as fast as hers.

             
“The beast is gone.”  Little more than a gasp, she leaned into him, even as she shook her head in agitation. 

             
“Aye.  We should continue on.”  Absently, he agreed, even as be bent his head to take her mouth in a deep kiss.

             
Her response was heady and immediate. 

             
With reluctance, he forced himself to lift his head.  “Nay.”  Hoarse voiced, he nearly choked as he said the word.  “Again the spell seeks to compel us.  We need not this distraction, not now.”

             
“You speak true.”  She stiffened and moved away from him.

             
He had to clench his hands to keep from reaching out to her.  Inhaling deeply, he focused on the one thing sure to distract her.  “Even now the Eastern sky grows lighter.”

             
To his surprise she did not panic as she normally did. 

             
“I know.”  Her voice as cool as the stream of Rangoine, she looked up at him with an almost impersonal expression.  “I suppose we must find a place for me to take shelter and sleep.”

             
“I suppose we must,” he agreed, setting his jaw and resolving to question her later.  “There are crypts under this church.  Let us look there.”

* * *

              For the first time since she could remember, sleep did not come easily.  Shifting restlessly on the cold stone of the altar she’d made her bed, she pondered the strange changes that seemed to be coming upon her.  Not only had the prospect of the approaching morning seemed less threatening, but she sensed a difference in her body as well, a softening and rounding that she could only attribute to the continuing temptation of Egann’s presence.

             
Having experienced his lovemaking, she now found that thoughts of his touch, his kiss, of him moving slowly inside her, consumed her thoughts, even as she merely walked at his side.  Egann had said that he believed it to be some sort of enchantment, though who would do such a thing she did not know.  Perhaps the one who had stolen the magical amulet tried to use it to impede their retrieval.  That was the only reason that made sense.

             
Or perhaps,
a small voice whispered inside her head,
it was not a spell at all
.

             
Deirdre shivered.  How different all of this was from her old existence, her comfortable life with the people of the cliffs.  She had longed for adventure, excitement, and had been given it, though she had not foreseen the constant threat of the Maccus.  Nor her inappropriate longing for one whom, once their quest had been satisfactorily completed, she would never see again. 

             
Ah, so it was
this
thought that kept her edgy and unsettled instead of slumbering.  She had come to care too much for the man, even though he seemed to dislike himself.

Foolishly perhaps, she found much to admire in Egann.  Though he did not believe he would make a good King, she could see him as nothing but a great one.  Mayhap with time he would realize this as well.  He did not belong here, in the ordinary world.  He belonged in a realm she was forbidden to enter, belonged in the world of glittering magic, of daffodil sunshine and birdsong, not her world of darkness and shadows. 

              Now that they had reached the village, he would move among the mortals while she hid from the daylight, without her.  Conceivably he would even find the amulet without her help, and then what would become of her? 

             
Mentally, she shook herself.  No good would become of such fears.  Egann would not leave her until he made certain she was well protected.  She had best think on something else, such as what she would do with her life once they had accomplished their task and re-captured the amulet.

             
What she would do when she no longer had Egann.

             
Her thoughts remained troubled as she finally drifted off to sleep.

             
When she woke again, she knew instinctively that she could not rise.  Though the crypts were below ground and thus windowless and dark, she instinctively understood that the sun had not yet set.  Waking before darkness had never before happened to her, and she puzzled at the reason it occurred now. 

             
Mayhap the Amulet of Gwymyrr had something to do with it.

             
If, as Egann seemed to believe, the mysterious amulet had a mind of its own, would it not follow that it had its own plans and schemes?  And what role, she wondered, did Fiallan play in all of this?  Mayhap the former guardian of the amulet was not as innocent as Egann thought.

             
When she next opened her eyes, it was to the scrape and grating sound of the granite door that led down to the crypts being moved away.

             
Pushing herself to her feet, Deirdre met Egann half-way up the steps.

             
“I have news.”  Egann held took her arm, helping her climb the crumbling stairs. “I have spent the entire day roaming the village, and I have heard tales that lead me to believe that the amulet is not far from here.”

             
The excitement in his deep voice made her smile.  “Let us go into the fresh night air and find water first.  Then I would hear what you have learned.”

             
Keeping her hold on his arm, she let him lead the way up the stone steps.  Once outside, she took deep, bracing gulps of the cool night air, careful to avoid looking at him.  Foolish, she knew, but it seemed to her he might see in her eyes all the fears that had distressed her and kept her from a peaceful nights rest.

             
Apple trees, heavy with fruit, surrounded the weathered church.  The scent of ripe apples made her stomach growl. 

Egann handed her the water-skin, then folded his arms across his chest.  She drank deeply, relishing the cool water sliding down her parched throat.  She could sense the impatience rolling off him in waves as he broke a length of crusty bread in half and shared it with her.

Too hungry to care about delicacy, Deirdre tore into the fresh loaf, accepting a chunk of yellow cheese with delight.

From the tree overhead, Egann plucked two apples, handing one to her.  Biting into the crunchy fruit, she closed her eyes, savoring the sweet and tart taste of it.

“Deirdre.”  His voice was a low hum, murmuring her name.

Still chewing, she raised her gaze to find him watching her.  Swallowing, she saw his jaw tense visibly as the piece of fruit slid down her throat.

Again she closed her lips over the apple, never taking her eyes from his.  The ripe fruit was juicy, and her fingers felt sticky.  Feeling like a delightfully wicked cat, she let her tongue dart out and capture the juice, licking her fingers slowly for good measure.

             
For an instant, time seemed to stand still.  Egann’s hot gaze turned smoldering, enrapturing her. The rapid pounding of her heart and his harsh intake of breath were the only sounds in the deserted orchard.  Even the air seemed to shimmer, as she studied his handsome, craggy face. 

             
Her own face heating, she looked away, though she felt like a coward.  Keeping her head down, her attention fixed on the half-eaten apple, she finished it quickly. Her skin still tingled and every fiber of her was acutely aware of the seductive desire that flowed like warm honey between them.

             
She had to control this, for making love with Egann put her entire self, especially her vulnerable heart, at risk
.

If only she did not have to look at him, she might resist.  One look, one touch would send her already aroused body out of control. 

“Deirdre,” he said again. 

Girding herself, she raised her head, peering at him through her lashes.  He reached out and took the partially eaten apple from her, tossing it behind him.  Raising her hand to his lips, his dark gaze searing her, he took one finger into his mouth, suckling her. 

The damp heat of his mouth turned her blood to molten lead.  She wanted him violently, urgently, with a passion that made her knees buckle.

             
Helpless, she swayed towards him, a shudder passing through her. 

             
“Deirdre—” His arms encircled her, holding her upright as she buried her face against his neck and tried to breathe. 

             
Perhaps his belief that they’d been enchanted had been correct, for all she could do was writhe helpless against him, her body burning with a hunger she could not suppress. 

             
Instantly, she felt him quicken, his need leaping to meet her desire.  So in tune were they that no words passed between them, none needed to as their bodies spoke their own language.  With quivering hands she stroked him, fondled him, caressing his arousal through the soft cloth of his braes.

She was wet and hot and ready, the mindless need driving her so that she lost all sense of modesty.

              “Woman,” he groaned, as she pressed a hot kiss against his jaw, then tasted the sensitive lobe of his ear with light strokes of her tongue.  “Have a care what you do to me, lest I take you where we stand.”

             
“Take me,” she heard herself whisper, her voice thick with desire.  “Here in the apple-scented orchard, underneath the watchful light of a thousand stars.  Oh please, Egann.  Take me now.”

             
“I cannot,” he hissed through clenched teeth. “We must—” Head back, eyes closed, he stood stiffly while she touched and provoked him, the only sign of her effect on him his jutting manhood and raspy breathing.

             
With one hand, she untied the pouch that kept him from her.  Sinking to her knees before him, she glanced up at him once before she took him in her mouth.