The Gossamer Gate (10 page)

“We are throwing a ball for our subjects. It is not often that
a human guest graces us with her presence, and I would so love it if you would attend. We will take care of all of your needs, but you really must experience the entertainment that the Otherworld has to offer. It will do you no harm. After that, I will provision you for your journey. You cannot continue to travel without some comforts. I’m sure sleeping on the ground has not been to your liking, and then there is the question of…” The Queen’s nose wrinkled as she concluded, “Cleanliness.”

Khiara realized she had not bathed in three days. She turned her head toward her left shoulder to sniff herself surreptitiously. A brief glance at Liam told her that he seemed oblivious to her discomfiture; he was staring out the window on his side of the carriage, his expression inscrutable. She wondered what he was thinking as she turned her attention back to the Queen.

“I am most humbled and honored by your invitation,” Khiara said carefully, trying to word her response politely, without saying the forbidden words of gratitude. “I will accept any hospitality you wish to offer. It would certainly feel good to get clean and sleep in a proper bed.”

“Very good,” the Queen responded, her eyes shining with delight. “Ronan will be late, but I’m sure that we can find you a suitable dance partner tonight. Don’t worry. You will be perfectly safe in my home. Neither he nor any of my subjects will do anything to harm you.”

Khiara felt Liam shift in the seat next to her, and he appeared to turn his attention even more fully on the passing scenery. She could sense that he was warning her without words. Instinctively, she reached for him, her fingers inching across the plush seat cushion toward the silent fae bard. As her fingertips brushed his hip, he startled her by flinching at her touch. Khiara felt a brief flare of power, a tendril of energy reaching from him to twine around her, and then the sensation vanished.

“It is the least I can do for one of our own kind.”

Khiara nodded at the Queen dazedly, and then blinked as the words sank in. “Pardon me?” she responded, her attention drawn back to the beautiful woman.

“I said that it is the least we can do for one of own kind. Even a part-fae is family. The blood of your faerie ancestors makes you one of us, despite the diminished blood.”

“No, that is not possible.” Khiara shook her head. “I’ve traced my ancestors. None of them could possibly be fae.”

“Do you think you would even know?” Titania asked, arching one delicate golden eyebrow. “There are generations you cannot see – for which you have no photographs or anecdotal evidence to even give you an inkling of what they might have truly been. Tell me, what of those ancestors that you are unable to trace further than a few generations back in time. What is it that the humans call them?”

“Brick walls,” Liam said almost inaudibly, his face still turned to the carriage window.

“Yes, brick walls. You have many on your mother’s side, I believe.” The Queen looked at Khiara expectantly.

“No, I don’t think…” Khiara was still shaking her head as she thought about her family. Her mother’s mother had descended from the Italian side. Her mother’s father…

“He was Celtic Irish, was he not?”

“I don’t know much about him. I have not been able to reach back more than a few generations, but I do know that my great-grandfather came from Ireland to America.”

Titania nodded as if that statement confirmed her words. “We can tell our own kind, you know. And being faerie is certainly something that would not be noted in the humans’ records. Humans haven’t the sense for such things. They lost their magick long ago. Even though you are
not related to me or mine directly, we still consider you one of us. Having the human blood makes you particularly appealing to our men. They see our women as weak.” Anger crept into her voice. “We cannot give them as many children as human women give human men. However, this is not our fault. It is the way that all faeries are made, both the male and female of the species. Humans are more durable. Faeries are not necessarily fragile; they were simply not made to procreate as extensively as mortals, because faeries are longer-lived. This is a problem, as our numbers have been decimated by war and illness rather than time.”

“War?” Khiara asked. “It doesn’t seem like war has ever touched this land.”

“Here in the faerie realm, we have not had such wars as the humans do, but the mortal realm’s conflicts affect us deeply. There are many full and half-blood faeries who maintain lives in both worlds. As a result, we have lost many of our men to your world’s wars. The other problem is that it is only natural that contact with the mortal world results in some faeries that bring back illness or disease that we would not normally have in the Otherworld.”

Titania looked forlorn and Khiara felt
her throat close up. If this had been one of her friends, Khiara would have reached out to hold her hand to convey her sympathy and support. However, she knew such a gesture would have been out of place in the Otherworld, particularly with a royal, so she kept her compassionate sentiment to words alone.

“I cannot even begin to appreciate or understand the difficulties you have been through, but I am very sorry for them.”

“Even though our realms have drifted apart, what happens in yours still affects us. The Otherworld was once one and the same as the mortal realm. Then people came from different places – not just the Mother Earth – and pushed us further and further beyond the veil. Really, that veil was of our own making. It was a way to defend ourselves against the mortal race.” Titania raised her chin a fraction.

Although the situation in the Otherworld was difficult, Khiara could see that the Queen retained her dignity and her determination.

“Soon that veil became substantial enough to physically disengage our world from yours, so much so that it became known as the Otherworld. Yet the slender threads of material and numinous connections do remain between both worlds. I fear that mortals will not become conscious of their actions until it is too late; before we can completely sever the connection.”

Khiara considered this in silence; the Queen’s words were heartbreaking and her sentiments about the concerns she had for her world were familiar. Khiara felt the same way about her own world and its many troubles. Here she had considered the Otherworld a completely different and foreign realm when, in truth, it was parallel to the mortal world. The denizens of both had their fears and worries, which weren’t so different at all.

As Khiara thought about how she should respond, the carriage clambered onto a harder surface, jarring her into finally paying attention to the landscape. She realized they were in a stone-paved courtyard surrounded by a delicate white, wrought-iron fence that rose higher from the ground with each prancing step the horses took toward their destination. Everything seemed to be awash in a shimmering, silvery glow. Khiara realized the radiance emanated from every piece of faerie-made architecture around them: the road, the fence, and the structure that stood before them. She gazed in awe at the luminous, crystalline castle. The gray-lavender mist that enclosed the capitol city reflected the incandescence back.

Towers rose skyward, their spires appearing to touch the clouds. The material of the palace itself was a shimmering, rough rock that reminded Khiara of many densely
packed quartz crystals. On the foremost tower was an enormous clock with a sepia-toned face, and three large black hands. Their movement was completely imperceptible, and she remembered what Liam had said about time running differently in the Otherworld.

There were several windows along the palace and towers, the glass curving elegantly upward to peak at the top, with silver-gilded molding framing them. The entire palace almost seemed frosted and glittering. In any other landscape, it would have been out of place, unless surrounded by snow. However, here in the desolate Otherworld, it did not seem incongruous at all between the dry, drab green grass and the murky gray skies.

The Queen’s mood abruptly shifted to a more cheerful one as the carriage clattered to a halt. “Come, we are here. I cannot wait to put you in the hands of my ladies, and see how you look tonight. We will dress you in the colors of your family. I am sure Ronan will be completely surprised when he sees you.”

“I’m not sure I want Ronan to see me,” Khiara said
, struggling to keep a scowl off her face. “In fact, I would prefer to deal with him in my own time.”

“And so you will, but tonight you will at least enjoy the dance.” Titania’s smile was playful as the
footman in attendance opened the carriage door for them. “You will enjoy the dance, even if you cannot enjoy the other pleasures that are being offered to you. I assure you, you are safe in my home.” With that, the Queen gracefully exited the carriage and swept along the stone path into the glittering palace.

Liam followed, so silently that Khiara did not even realize she was alone in the carriage for an entire minute. She
saw him standing by the door, waiting to help her down to the ground. As she took his hand, he tilted his head to look at her speculatively.

“You handled that skillfully,” he said, not relinquishing her hand, even though she was standing on solid ground. “You are doing very well in being gracious in accepting faerie hospitality. Your diplomacy and caution do you credit. Two debts to the fae are more than enough.”

Khiara looked at him. “I said ‘thank you’ to you, because I trust you, Liam,” she told him softly.

His hand tightened around hers a
nd she cringed at the crushing pain. “You trusted Ronan too,” he reminded her.

Chapter 10

It had been a little discomforting to strip down and bathe in an unfamiliar place, not to mention a place where the people treated her with hostility and suspicion, but the warm water had been all too inviting. She had sunk down into the claw-footed porcelain bathtub with a sense of relief. With a silver filigree screen between her and the fae handmaidens sent to attend to her, Khiara took her time washing her hair and body. By the time she was done, the water had turned filthy with the dust of the past few days spent on the road. Khiara did not recall ever being so dirty in her life.

After the bath, the faerie maids each performed a different task to prepare her for the Queen’s ball. One ran a silken cloth over her hair until it was dry. She then brushed it and gathered the smooth, straight honey-blonde locks by one section at a time to wrap them around heated curling tongs. Another of the maids sprayed her with perfume – a light scent that reminded Khiara of baby powder – and then appl
ied make-up to her face. The third maid was the one who responsible for clothing her, and Khiara had to keep herself from squirming like a badly behaved puppy as the woman dressed her from head to toe in finery.

After the ministrations of the fae women, Khiara hardly recognized herself when
they permitted her to look in the mirror.

The dark red dress had a black corset-like bodice that laced up the front, and puffy red sleeves that tapered along her arms into flowing black lace cuffs. There were several black buckles at the waist, which only emphasized her slender figure above the full, floor-length red skirt of the dress. From the red choker-like collar of the dress to the top of the bodice, black lace was the only thing covering her chest. Her hair dangled around her shoulders in golden curls, with a few loose braids woven into it on either side, left unfastened so the ends would interweave with the rest of her hair.

“This is insanity,” she muttered while the maids cleaned up the room. In her mind, Khiara had dubbed all the hair devices, make-up tools, and wardrobe the Implements of Beautification. “They certainly worked.” She squared her shoulders and pursed her lips at the mirror. If the faerie maids had not shooed her out of the room, Khiara would have spent the entire night gawking at her reflection.

They left her standing o
n the balcony overlooking the first floor of the palace. She could see inside the well-lit ballroom, where faerie women whirled with their dance partners, their colorful dresses blending into a rainbow of hues. The men wore tight breeches in shades of black or dark gray, and long, old-fashioned coats that were black, dove gray, or ivory, with flared sleeves and lace at the cuffs. They wore tall black boots and tricorn style hats. The women’s dresses were similar to the one Khiara wore, with puffed sleeves, laced bodices, and full skirts. Their hair was styled in ringlets with ribbons laced throughout the strands.

“Isn’t this something?” Khiara made her way slowly down the stairs, not quite ready to enter the sea of color and music.

It had gotten dark outside, making the crystalline ballroom appear even more brilliant. Orbs of white light hung from the ceiling and cast a silvery glow over the room. The scent of silver-purple lilacs and white roses in bloom made the moment feel even more dream-like as she watched the dance from the staircase.

To Khiara’s surprise, the orchestra was
playing symphonic metal. The cellists were grinding out a sound that rivaled her favorite grunge and metal bands back home, the drummer playing with an almost feral rhythm, and it was surreal to see the fae dancers moving to the powerful sound with a wildly fast-paced pavane. “Rock on,” she said with a laugh, as she continued down the stairs.

I
n addition to the glowing orbs of light, there were pure crystal chandeliers hanging from the ceiling of the ballroom. They cast miniature rainbows across the walls and floors, which further illuminated the dancers as they stepped and whirled throughout the ballroom. The walls of the room itself were the same rough quartz crystal used to construct the palace, adorned with silver hangings. It seemed that everything in the room, from the walls to the windows to the ceiling, was made of silver and crystal. The dance floor itself reminded her of a chessboard, with alternating squares of marble in silver and black. It was like a magickal, incandescent wonderland.

“If I live through this, I’m going to remember this night forever.” She paused at the bottom of the staircase and took a deep breath.

As she saw the beautiful faerie women with their porcelain skin, blue or violet eyes, and red-tinged hair, she wondered why any faerie man would set them aside for a human bride. These were the most stunning females Khiara had ever seen in her life. The energy of faery magick hummed through her as though it were a part of her. She reveled in the sensation of the fae power that had once been dormant in her blood; a power she felt awakening with every moment that ticked beyond her reach in this realm.

“Ah
, you are the human girl.” A footman approached her, startling her out of her fanciful reverie, and said, “Would you please follow me?”

She nodded and fell into step behind him.
The footman led her through the ballroom, across the very center of it, to the thrones on which the King and Queen sat. Dancers stopped to watch her, and Khiara thrust her hands into the folds of her dress to clutch the fabric. Her gaze darted from side to side, seeking Liam’s familiar face. She hoped that the hostility she thought she saw in the faces of the revelers was only a product of her imagination. They observed her progress through narrowed eyes, their lips compressed in thin lines. In fact, she realized belatedly, the entire room was silent.

When the footman stopped, Khiara did as well, dropped her eyes, and sank into a low curtsy.

“Is this the girl?” a voice asked.

“Yes,” answered a familiar voice, and Khiara
raised her gaze to the Queen. “This is our Ronan’s young lady. Is she not lovely?” The Queen smiled down at her. “This, my dear, is my consort. Mortals often call him Oberon.”

When
Khiara moved her gaze to Oberon, she realized the King was looking her over critically. He was a handsome faerie, his dark hair wavy, his sea-green eyes striking in the intensity of their color. The energy coming from him was palpably dark. Khiara recognized it as the same negative magick that Ronan exuded. The resemblance between father and son was uncomfortably uncanny, and she shuddered with remembrance.

“Our son has chosen you as his consort,” Oberon said
without inflection. “Why do you not accept this choice and take your proper place beside him?”

“I… Your Majesty.” Khiara stumbled over her words
. She closed her eyes, licked her lips, and tried again. “I am pleased with my life in the mortal world, and have no wish to leave it behind. Besides that, I do not love your son, and do not believe I would make him a good companion. Your son deserves someone who will love him deeply and stand by him forever.”

The King glared at her and Khiara could see where Ronan had also inherited his temper. She could imagine that if Titania
were angry, the Queen would simply smite the offender with her magick and be done with it. These faerie men held grudges and cherished their obsessions with the things they could not have, Khiara realized. They were certainly the more stubborn gender. She would rather have Titania angry at her and be done with it, than be dogged her entire life by a controlling faerie prince.

“It pleases my wife to show you hospitality, and so we shall,” Oberon said at last.

Khiara curtsied a little deeper and said, “You are very kind.”

As she straightened,
Oberon rose from his throne, stepped to her side, and whispered in her ear, “You have no idea what a kindness I am doing you tonight.”

With a shiver, Khiara backed away from the sovereigns and tried to blend into the crowd as the orchestra
began to play once more. She had been all too aware of the uncomfortable silence, the stares, and the varying sensations of faerie magick weaving throughout the room.

“Come.”

She turned gratefully to Liam as his familiar energy surrounded her. He took her by the hand and pulled her into the dance. She sighed at the gesture and the tension drained from her body. “Tha…”

“You already said it once,” he reminded her.
“Don’t do it again.”

“Right.” She shook her head,
then bowed it to watch his feet as they moved. “Why do I do that with you?”

“You tell me.”

Looking up into his eyes, she admitted, “I’m not entirely sure I want to be rid of you.” As she spoke, she thought about how warm he was, how strong the arm around her waist felt. Her chest tightened, a sensation she had not felt in a long time. It was a feeling she used to experience when she first decided she was in love with Sean.

It was a feeling that had lessened over time as she told herself, day after day, that her best friend would never return those feelings.

The return of it was so strong, she had to draw several shallow breaths to regain her equilibrium.
Shit. I’m falling in love with the wrong guy… Again.

“Do you think you might want to stay here?” Liam asked
, his gaze locking with hers. “Is that why you continue to risk owing an ever-growing debt to me? Do you even realize that you’re doing it?”

Yes, yes, yes,
something whispered in her mind.

He was looking at her so intensely
, she took a moment to consider forgetting her life in the mortal world, staying here with him. Despite what she’d said to the King, she really had nothing back in her world to return to. Cate and Felisa were more than capable of taking over the coven and the classes. Nobody would miss her on Friday nights, least of all Sean…

The hard-driving strains of cello and rhythmic drumbeats filled the room with their fierce music, but all Khiara could hear were her own bewildered
, traitorous thoughts. Was her reaction to Liam’s attentions a result of Sean rejecting her time and again, or was it the real thing?

Has being in the Otherworld turned me into a capricious bitch, or am I finally coming to my senses?
she wondered.

Regardless of how she analyzed it, she
came to one inescapable conclusion: she wanted Liam, and that made more sense than anything else right now.

S
uddenly, Khiara was in a familiar position – her back against the wall as he leaned in close to her. Somehow he had managed to find a dark corner in that shimmering, crystalline ballroom, concealing them in shadows so that the other guests were entirely oblivious to them.

One of his hands stayed at her waist, but the other let go of her hand to touch her face. His fingers then trailed down along her throat, brush
ed over her chest, and then skimmed along the side of her body. His lips caressed her temple. Her eyes fluttered shut as she enjoyed the feeling of his body pressed to hers.

“I can’t,” she protested faintly, feeling as though she could hardly breathe. “If I do this with you, then that is taking something from the faerie world. I will never be able to go home.”

“You’re fighting for something you don’t really want. Just let me kiss you,” he argued softly, his lips touching hers lightly. “Nothing more than a kiss… I won’t hold it against you.”

“I don’t think I can,” she whispered, her eyes remaining closed of their own volition as her instinctive desire fought against her rational mind. “I won’t want to stop there.”

She felt his hand return to her face and his fingers take hold of her chin. Opening her eyes, she saw his brow furrow as he looked at her.

T
here was a shout and the sound of a scuffle behind him, and the orchestra went silent.

“What’s going on?” Khiara asked, blinking the passion from her eyes. She felt Liam’s grip on her waist tighten.

“Trouble,” he said through gritted teeth, his eyes narrowing and a scowl crossing his face.

She looked at him with
wide eyes. “Is it Ronan?”

Liam shoved her further back into the shadows and through a low-hanging curtain that concealed a dimly
lit hall. “We need to leave now,” he responded, his tone urgent. Taking Khiara by the hand, he led her away from the ballroom.