Free Shadow Magic by Karen Whiddon Page A

consequences of his previous failure, it was not necessary for Egann to elaborate.  Fiallan had known Banan as well, and had felt the sting of his brother’s passing from their realm nearly as sharply as Egann had himself.
                  Faeries did not die easily or often.
                  Still, he could think of nothing now but the lovely woman he had promised to protect.  "Where is Deirdre?"
                  "As I have said, she is safe."  The wise man cocked his grizzled head, peering up at Egann with an owlish gaze full of mischief.
                  "I would see her."  Crossing his arms in front of him, Egann waited, the pounding of his heart the only sign of his agitation.
                  "So you shall, once the sun has set."
                  "Nay.  Show her to me now."  If he used the tone of a King's command, so be it. Deirdre was his responsibility and as such, he meant to make certain she was safe.
                  A silken red fox, braver than most, crept out from under the brush to watch them.  Above, a crow cried raucously, once, twice, then a third time before flapping off into the forest. 
                  Time crept by while they waged a silent war.
                  "I cannot," Fiallan finally admitted.  "Think on it, my friend.  If you open her hiding place to look at her, you will also let the deadly sun harm her.  You must wait until the sun has traveled the sky and crossed the horizon."
                  Only years of ingrained manners kept Egann from swearing out loud.  The wise one was correct, in this at least.  Egann could not do such a thing.  If making certain she was safe would endanger her life, then he would simply have to wait.
                  Patience had never been one of his virtues.
                  Fiallan began walking again, this time into the very heart of the forest, where the trees grew so massive and intertwined that the dappling gold drops of sunlight came few and far between. 
                  "I will have need of Weylyn," Egann mused out loud. Lifting one hand casually, he began muttering the few words of the spell necessary to bring the beast to him, changed into a fierce steed.
                  "Nay."  Grabbing Egann's hand, Fiallan stopped him mid-spell.  "I have given him leave to hunt the plains of Morthar.  I do not think he enjoyed the time spent acting as your horse."
                  Egann shrugged.  "I could not ride around the mortal world on a wolf, even one as large as Weylyn.  But I will let him have his time to hunt, and will summon him back once I find the woman."
                  "Ah, the woman.”  Fiallan’s smile seemed smug and knowing.  “She is beautiful, is she not?  Too bad that the curse that haunts her is ancient and so powerful."
                  Though thinking of her loveliness was the last thing he wanted to do, Egann could not help but remember the supple feel of her limbs as he held her in his arms, or the sweet scent of her hair and smooth silk of her skin.  His body instantly responded, which infuriated him.
                  “Curse?” 
                  “Yes, this curse will not be an easy one to break,” Fiallan said.  “All who dance in the shadows labor under it.”
                  Focusing on the wise man, Egann slowly shook his head.  "Who made this curse, mortal or Faerie?  I would not think there could be any human wizard or witch so powerful to curse an entire race of people for so long."
                  "It originated in Rune."  Fiallan's voice sounded heavy.  "Long before the Hall of Legends was even built, or sealed.  I have found little on it, but know that your Deirdre and her kind were cursed by our own ancestors."