Shapeshifter by Holly Bennett Page A

she was anywhere near Sidhe Ochta Cleitigh, and it was almost a relief to have to pull her thoughts away from her homesickness and concentrate on eluding the hunters. When the small hunting parties swelled suddenly to swarms of men and dogs, she knew the Dark Man had received word of the spotted deer he sought. She barely reached the portal in time.
    She stayed in Eire after that. At least if she fell to the hunt, it would be to feed a family’s hunger, not a sorcerer’s ambition.
    She never again risked staying in a dwelling overnight, but she did, a few times a year, allow herself a brief time in human form. To share the company of another person, a bowl of ale or the comfort of a fire—these were sharp, bittersweet pleasures.
    Yet it was not loneliness but fear that made her risk attracting the Dark Man’s notice and take her own form, for each day spent as a deer took her further from herself. It became difficult to remember her life as a woman. How could she picture her mother’s face, when her deer eyes distinguished faces so poorly? Or recall the intricate stitches her clever fingers had embroidered, when she had no hands? She was afraid she would forget how to sing, how to speak. How to change.

ELEVEN
    D aireann preened and fluttered as she waited for Far at their rendezvous. She could still hardly believe her luck, that the tall druid had turned his flattering attentions to her. He was so handsome, so courtly. The power that lay behind his gentle manners was heady and exciting, like a smooth, sweet mead that went straight to your head.
    She hoped she didn’t smell of horse. Far said some might find their courtship unseemly, with Sive still lost in the mortal lands, so they met at some distance from her sidhe. Daireann was happy to stay out of her father’s eye for now. Still the horseback ride made it difficult to present herself at her best.
    He didn’t seem to notice, hurrying to help her from the horse with a murmured apology for the wait she had endured, bending low over her hand and then drinking her in with his emerald eyes before drawing her close. The little gazebo he led her to was hung with silks, lined with cushions and provisioned with an enticing array of refreshments. A brazier chased away any chill breezes that might find their way inside.
    “I wish I had met you first,” he said as they lay twined together in the soft nest of pillows. “I would not have wasted these past years running after the lesser beauty.”
    Daireann nodded archly. “I confess I never understood what you saw in her. She’s a timid thing, I would think illsuited to a great man like you.”
    “I know it.” His grin was ruefully self-mocking. “I think she must have enchanted me.” The green eyes glinted at her, glowing with intensity. “And now you have done the same.”
    They didn’t speak of Sive again, not until more sweet encounters had been stolen and Far Doirche had delighted Daireann by begging her to become his wife.
    “I hope her father will release the poor thing, once our marriage is announced,” he said. “You know him—do you think he will?”
    Daireann considered her reply carefully. Powerful men do not like to be crossed or gainsaid. This she had learned. But Far would not want a fool for a wife either. It was a gamble, either way.
    “I doubt very much that Derg cursed her at all,” she said bluntly. “He hasn’t the skill. Sive, on the other hand, babbled incessantly as a child about wanting to shapeshift. Don’t ask me why.”
    She met the green eyes head-on, allowing a spark of malicious humor into her own. “It’s my belief the little fool refused you, and when you pressed your suit, turned herself into a deer to escape you. And it’s no blame to you if you were angered at the slight—as if she would ever get a better offer!”
    The little salute of admiration Far gave her made Daireann flush with pleasure. They would be a mighty couple.
    “So,” he pressed, “I still feel badly