The Ace and Deuce of Pipering
Chapter 2
Saorise knew she could not go far or stay out too long. By now, their troupe would know that their Lord was gone, their psychic connection to him broken, and they would look to her to lead them now.
This frightened her. Never before ha she contemplated leading her troupe alone – she had always assumed that the Lord of the Dance would be by her side. It wasn't that she couldn't do it – it was that she had never before seen the need to.
She was aware of the dark forest around her. It was a late hour. Wolves would be out now, as well as pixies and worst of all, Dark Dancers. Against wolves and the Sidhe she could defend herself – against Dark Dancers she wouldn't stand a chance. Their magic was more powerful than hers. Besides – they fought dirty.
She was so busy avoiding her enemies that she didn't notice him until it was too late.
Moonlight glinting off his silver mask, the Dark Lord Don Dorcha turned to face her.
"Don't try anything," she said, her voice low and still wobbling from unshed tears. "I can have my entire troupe here before you could call music enough to attack me." It was a bluff, of course. Saorise could only pray that he fell for it.
The Dark Lord sniffed the air. "Your troupe is at least fifty miles away," he said, a small smile playing around his lips. "But you needn't worry. I would not attack a lone woman, Lady Saorise."
"How…how are you sure they're not in the trees all around us?"
Dorcha shrugged one shoulder, a graceful, rolling, lopsided movement. "It's a gift. Dancers can see auras, Dark Dancers can smell magic." He smirked. "Besides…The Lord of the Dance has just left his Lady. She runs away into the woods, too distraught to be around her troupe, and in her anguish runs straight into Dark Dancer territory."
She flushed, angry that he was able to read her so easily.
"My advice to you – " he stepped toward her, strangely unthreatening.
"I didn't ask you for your advice," she said, trembling even though the night was warm.
"I know. Try to forget him, Lady Saorise." His voice was softer and gentler than she had ever heard it as he reached out to caress her cheek with one calloused finger. "He isn't worth your tears, my Lady. He isn't worth you. You deserve something so much better than him."
She forced herself to look into his eyes – pale blue and shining more brightly than the stars. For half a moment she saw something there – some private agony, quiet torture, then without so much as a rustle of the leaves, he was gone, melted away into the night.
Sleep was along time coming that night, but not because she was missing her Lord.