Gossamyr (48 page)

Involuntary shivers rode Gossamyr's spine. She could not force
herself to speak, to offer an "I know, he sacrificed for me."
Instead, she fell into Ulrich's embrace, tucking her face against his
shoulder. The soul shepherd stroked her arm and kissed the crown of
her head. Bare of shirt, his flesh felt ridiculously warm and so
very...like home.

"He must be returned to Faery," Dominique said softly.
"I will prepare him for the journey, if you will allow."

Gossamyr simply nodded. She knew that without Shinn's assistance
there was no Passage back to Faery for her. Though the rift yet
remained open.

When you return to Faery you shall age and wither.
Belief
had been altered. No return, ever. And yet, someone must now sit the
Glamoursiege throne.

From the corner of her eye she observed Dominique as he stood over
Shinn, finger to chin in thought. Devising a plan? Tor walked up to
the changeling and nudged a suede nose into his palm.

"It
is
a unicorn," Ulrich's hot breath whispered
reverently.

Dominique looked over his shoulder at her. Then he turned back to
Tor, pressed his forehead to the beast's nose, right between its
eyes, and held there. Communicating? Mayhap, and similar to Shinn's
communication with the fetch.

Why had the fetch shone her a picture of all her tears?

A twist of her waist focused her gaze on Avenall, laid carefully
upon the bed. Glimmer of faery dust sparkled there on his chest where
the pin had pierced through flesh and heart and married his stolen
essence with the body.

"You remembered,"she whispered,"just before you
died. I hope it was a good memory."

"He loved you, Gossamyr," Ulrich reassured. "As did
you him."

"Call me...Verity."

"Why?"

"It is who I am, who I have always been."

A sigh sloughed out final tears. She pulled from Ulrich and
touched the leather saddlebag.

"I know," Ulrich said. "We should return it now the
unicorn is here."

"Not we. You, Ulrich. You have journeyed far for your wish."

"Tor is aware the alicorn is within reach," Dominique
announced. "But not here in this lair of evil. We must to a
place of calm, far from Paris and closer to Faery. He will bear Shinn
and the other on his back. We should be off."

And so the threesome carefully secured Shinn and Avenall upon
Tor's back and left the Red Lady's lair as it was. The essences that
had not burst were rapidly dissipating. One after another gave a
bright twinkle before finally dissolving to but a whisper of dust.
Gossamyr could not guess if it be the final
twinclian
or
merely a sigh of final release.

She strode from the room without looking back.

As they emerged from the depths of strange darkness and despair,
the chill of the morning reawakened their senses. Tiny chirps from a
hidden nest brightened the sweetness of the dawn. Clasping a hand to
her breast, she only now realized the gown had been rent wide,
revealing the curves of her breasts.

Dominique stood waiting with his cloak, which Gossamyr gratefully
accepted.

Ulrich embraced her. "Your father truly did love you."

"I wish he had not sacrificed himself before I could tell him
I understood. He kept his secrets thinking to protect me. I could
have lived forever in Faery without knowing."

"We must all bear the cross of our lacking wisdom, Faery
Not."

"Do not call me that."

"Very well, champion."

"I am not a champion."

"Oh ho?" A dramatic gesture of arms to the air revisited
the good-natured Ulrich she had first met. "You defeated a
vicious succubus and rescued all of Faery from those manic revenants.
You were prepared to give your life so others may live. I'd call that
a champion."

"The man speaks the truth," Dominique echoed from the
Otherside of Tor.

She tugged the soft wool cloak high, pressing one of the cool
hematite stones against her chin. "It is not important anymore."

"So what is?"

She glanced to Tor, who ambled ahead by a few paces toward the
gates of Paris. "Seeing my father returned to Faery. And..."

"Yes?"

She must wed Desideriel to place a successor to the throne. But
how to return yet alluded her scatter of thoughts. And there were
other desires—new to her—but strongest of all—
"Finding my sister. I have one, you know?"

"I did not."

"You will come to my home in the Valois woods,"
Dominique stated as he strolled off. "I want you to meet my
wife. She will be pleased to know you."

"Sure," Verity answered. "But I shall seek my
sister first."

"I can help you," Dominique stated.

But it was Ulrich's eyes that held her transfixed. She wondered,
"You up for a holiday in the woods?"

"Are there any wicked red faeries lurking within, waiting to
kiss me to death?"

I don t expect so.

"Then I am willing. You would have me accompany you?"

"I couldn't imagine leaving you behind, Ulrich. I...I favor
your company. That is, if you favor mine."

"I think what you are trying to say is you like me?"

"Er, I do."

"I like you as well, Gossa—Verity. I may even love
you."

"You—you do?" She grinned and felt her smile grow
loose and wild. The heat of her blush startled her. She pressed her
fingers to her mouth and glanced down.

"You are sweetest when you are out of your element, Verity. I
love you for that."

"I shall always and ever be out of my element."

"I will help you to adjust. If you will allow it."

"I wouldn't have it any other way. Shall we to the unicorn?"

"Indeed," Dominique called as he began to follow Tor's
gait.

He turned a curious gaze upon Gossamyr. "Did he name you
Verity?"

"It is my mortal name," she offered.

"Ah. Well then, my wife will certainly be pleased to meet
you."

Tor led them out from the gates of Paris and to the edge of a
forest bisected by a stream. Far from the dangers of marauders, here
in the peaceful meadow the sun danced upon the leaves and grass, and
butterflies flittered deliriously, unmindful of those congregated
around the white beast.

Shinn was laid upon the ground and Gossamyr crossed his hands upon
his chest. She touched his face; it was still soft and a little warm.
His hair, so white now, flowed across a crush of fragrant heather.
Touching the short horn at his right temple, she smiled to remember
the many times as a youngling, when she had grabbed hold of both and
rode upon his back as if he were a beast. They had laughed until
Shinn would fall to his knees and gently roll over her and tickle her
to oblivion.

To Shinn's side had been laid Avenall. Gossamyr felt sure now
Shinn would not mind the Rougethorn being placed aside him in death.
They two had loved her; Shinn knew that.

"This Rougethorn was fine and kind," she said to them
both.

"It will be well," Dominique said as his shadow drew
over Shinn's legs. "Trust that it will."

"I know." Gossamyr stood, and stepped back from the two
men she loved. Of a sudden the fetch
twinclianed
before her.
The creature lumbered in the air. She noticed a small stack of
crystals in the harness strapped to its back. "What is this?"

She did not touch the fetch or the crystals, but further
observance deduced something most remarkable. "My tears?"

And the knowledge became hers as if granted by the fetch. Her
tears would provide her means to return to Faery.

"I can use my tears to
twinclian
back to Faery."

Ulrich strode up beside her. "You said there was a danger in
your return."

"Yes, but mayhap if my visit is brief. I am willing to risk
the danger. There are things to be tended. Desideriel, my betrothed,
must take command."

"Your betrothed?" She turned and found herself in
Ulrich's arms. Pale blue eyes rushed across her face. How many times
had she looked upon that animated mouth and only now did she see it
frown. "My lady, did you not reveal all your truths?"

Stroking her fingers through Ulrich's tangled hair she noted a new
bruise at his left temple. An excellent companion he had proven for
this journey. Not afraid to stand at her side, nor had he feared to
step back and allow her the fight. A good man, he. A fine mortal.

"Yes, my betrothed."

Ulrich but held her gaze, no admonishment, yet little compassion
in his look.

"Shinn had arranged our vows. It has been so for many Faery
moons. We will wed..." I see.

She could not prevent a sigh. He could never understand, though it
was his right to know all. "Desideriel...does not favor me."

"As I do," he answered in the smallest voice.

"Yes, as you...do." She smiled, but mirth slipped from
her mouth so quickly, she felt the pain of its departure. Mortal
touched meant that she was loved by this man, and she in turn loved
him. "But he is a good man. An excellent leader. Shinn would
want Desideriel to replace him as lord of Glamoursiege. It is
necessary."

"Yes."

"Ulrich, I love you."

"Ah?" A touch to her lip. Difficult to put off the
exquisite feeling of being loved. "So much that you would marry
another?"

"I love Faery even more. It is the only home I have ever
known. So much that I would offer my hand to a loveless marriage."

"But if you return—did you not say you would age?"

"It is a chance I must risk."

Cleaving together, the twosome kissed, and falling they went,
falling, deep into oblivion. No need for words. This contact bonded
them, soul to mortal soul, mortal heart to beating mortal heart.
Light in Ulrich's arms. Light in this world.

Here is home.

To be kissed ever and anon by this kind, gentle man returned the
smile to her lips. This feeling of safety and acceptance she could
believe in ever after.

"Thought I'd try to convince you to remain," he said,
pulling back from their embrace. He sought her eyes. "How did I
do?"

"Very persuasive." She touched his mouth. "But—"

"Say not another word. I understand. Verity, is it? I am a
better man for knowing you."

And he stepped away, turning to acknowledge the changeling who
waited beside Tor.

So simple as turning away one's head, their departure?

Yes, and keep it so.

Gossamyr clutched her chest. There is where it pained. Many men
that she had loved, and all of them, taken from her. Was it fair that
she must sacrifice so much to save a realm not her own? No.

Champions are made.

Indeed. And champions be as lonely as an innocent mortal woman
coming into her own.

She gestured to Ulrich to bring the saddlebag to her. The two
knelt in the meadow before Tor. Ulrich carefully extracted the
wrapped alicorn from the leather bag and laid it upon the blades of
boot-crunched grass.

"You do it," he said to her. "Unwrap it. It is not
my place." He looked to Dominique. "Unless you wish to?"

Dominique nodded his head. "Neither is it my place. Only the
pure of heart may touch the alicorn without risking grave harm to the
Enchantment pure. Lady d'Ange?"

How perfect that name felt. Not new, but always hers. Here did she
belong, in the Otherside. Yet now she must sacrifice to make things
right in Faery.

"I'm not so sure how pure I am." She had kissed a
man—two men. Did that not lessen her purity? Only a maiden
could enthrall the unicorn. "I am," she murmured, ruefully,
"I am afraid. Besides, Ulrich, you must have your wish."

A thick rusted brow arched aside the new bruise. "You must do
it. And you have overlooked the fact that I be no virgin, Faery Not.
Would that I had realized such before I began this quest, eh?"

"But you have traveled far."

"Truly, it is not right to bring back the dead. I must be
satisfied with my memories and know that Rhiana did live for
twenty-two years. Pray it was a good life." Ulrich's hand on her
shoulder anchored a rich warmth in her chest. "You are the
champion, Gossamyr of Glamoursiege. I bid you, Verity d'Ange, return
Enchantment to this beast."

She nodded, and as Ulrich stepped back to stand beside Dominique,
she knelt before the alicorn and touched the wrapping. Beside her,
Tor snorted softly; not impatient, but calming. Ready.

She held the ability to grant this beast a return to Faery. With
him, Tor would bring Shinn to rest in his rightful place. As well,
Avenall would be returned to Rouge thorn.

Pulling back the cloth, she revealed the glittering alicorn.
Dominique's gasp placed a smile to her face. Time to give back the
gift of Faery and to seal the rift. And she? She would marry
Desideriel and place a new lord upon the Glamoursiege throne.

All would be right, save her heart.

Standing, she bent and gripped the alicorn. The power of the
object—Enchantment pure—susurrated through her arms and
down her sides, stiffening her carriage and flexing her limbs
straight out in surrender. Verity rode the wondrous wave of power for
but a moment.

Not yours to possess. Return it!

Finding she could move, she placed the alicorn to the raw oval on
the beast's forehead. It sealed. And the unicorn reared onto its hind
legs, whinnying triumphantly. The witch locks that had once protected
it from harm unwound and the lush long mane splayed out at neck and
tail. Awareness tapped all creatures. Insects buzzed up from the
green-ribbon grasses, clouding in a whoosh of wing and clacking
shell. Squirrels chattered in the trees, and in the distance a lone
fox howled.

And for a moment Verity saw the world in all the vibrant colors of
Faery. The sky intensified and became like indigo glass, liquid and
smooth. Clouds dissipated. The grasses swayed and sang a canorous
song.