Munn’s essence flowed through the wood, searching for the
taint of magic. Soft giggles sang along with the rustle of blowing leaves,
alerting him to the lost bairns who lived in the trees.He didn’t have time to play their games tonight. He needed to find out what kind of spell caused the chief’s vision. Why had it been cast? And who did the casting?
No one else could perform the task. It was up to him to discover the truth. Munn sucked in a chest full of air, pleased with his importance.
As he rushed along the trail, the sound of young voices faded behind him.
The night grew late. A dense fog crept across the moor and through the wood. No mortal man was about. No human saw him appear at the edge of the Fir-wood. He hid behind the old hut and waited. When sure no magic users lingered in the area, he approached the grassy mound.
He didn’t know how the faerie knoll worked its magic. ’Twas a secret held dear by the Sithichean—the ancient faeries of the Highlands.
Stop by on May 25th for the Full Moon Book Giveaway. I'll gift an e-book copy of Just Beyond the Garden Gate to a commenting visitor. Hope to see you then!
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~Dawn Marie
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