The Gossamer Gate (12 page)

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Authors: Wendy L. Callahan

BOOK: The Gossamer Gate
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A
s she complained about her missing clothing, her hand closed around a wad of fabric. She pulled it out and dropped it in her lap. It opened to reveal a simple, regency-era style dress, her bra, and underpants. She reached back in the bag and asked, “Are my jeans in here?” Her fingers brushed against denim. “OK, I guess I don’t need those after all,” she said. “But I could use some shoes.”

This time she pulled out a pair of sturdy-looking ankle boots with laces. Dropping them in her lap, she held the messenger bag over her head and shook it.
As before, there was nothing inside. An idea formed in her mind as she dressed in the under things, dress, and boots. She shoved the ball gown into the messenger bag, waited a moment, and then reached into the bag. The dress was gone.

She rose to her feet and w
alked through the trees, back to where Liam waited. He was lying on the ground, his hands behind his head, his eyes closed.

“Hey,”
she said, and nudged him with her toe. “Did somebody cast some sort of spell on my bag?”

“Why do you ask?”
he mumbled without looking at her.

“Because there
was nothing in it when you gave it to me, but when I asked for something specific, it came to my hand. Kind of like a bag of holding.”

“You’re using D&D terms,” he said,
still not moving from his position.

“Yes, I am.” She dropped the bag on the ground ne
xt to his head. “Well, I guess that could certainly come in handy,” she commented, before stretching out beside Liam and drifting off into a deep sleep.

 

 

Chapter 12

The fourth morning dawned darkly, the clouds more ominous looking and stormy than they had been during the first few days. Khiara pushed herself up from the ground and looked around the misty forest. The thickening gray fog gave the land a new layer of foreboding and danger, and she couldn’t stop the shiver that wracked her body. Getting to her feet, Khiara smoothed the ankle length dress. The short cap sleeves left her arms exposed to the humid air and the ribbon at the high waist was not practical, since it trailed behind her. But the boots were sturdier and more comfortable than she had expected.

Reaching into her pack, Khiara
felt around until she pulled out a brush and ribbon. “Nice,” she said with a smirk. “I wonder if the magick will work in my world.” As she brushed her hair, she glanced around. Liam had apparently pulled his usual disappearing act, leaving her to wonder if he thought she had truly been safe on her own, or if something else had called him away from her.

She tied her hair back from her face, picked up her bag, and slung it over her shoulder. There was no path, and Khiara simply had to hope she was traveling in the right direction as she walk
ed through the preternaturally silent, murky forest.

“Caw!”

It was the call of a raven, which was looking down at her from one of the gnarled tree branches just overhead.

Her gaze flicked up to it as she wondered briefly if it was the same one she had seen when Ronan first brought her to the Otherworld.
“Caw back at you,” she responded, feeling more daring than she ever had in her life. It was a strange feeling, but she took more and more chances every day of her quest. “Hell, just accepting the quest was a risk. Maybe I wasn’t so happy with my life after all.”

She looked up at the raven and it cocked its head at her.

“Yeah, yeah, so what if that’s true? That doesn’t mean I want Ronan in my life. Go away and tell him I’m not giving up,” she told it and flicked a one-finger salute at it, giggling a little. “There you go. I offer you a bird for a bird.” The raven fluttered its wings, called again, and then thrust itself off the branch, soaring over her head and out of sight beyond the treetops. Khiara raised her hand in salute and continued her walk.

T
hroughout the morning hours, she often thought that she heard voices in the distance ahead. The mist, she discovered, could be deceiving. Like fog in the mortal realm, it would mirror back both light and sound. An echo of something far ahead or off of her path might come back to her, and then there would be nothing for a while, only to later hear what sounded like a conversation directly in front of her. She made progress slowly and cautiously, her ears always straining to catch the sounds of conversation in the forest. Listening for those voices was far more exhausting than actually walking, and Khiara wondered if she was simply hearing things out of loneliness.

That was when she stumbled into the encampment within a circle of trees.

There was a fire burning in the center of the ring, warming and illuminating the entire area. She saw four horses tethered on the far side of the area, grazing calmly. There were four faerie men sitting at the fire, speaking to one another in normal tones. She wondered if they were the people she had heard during her morning travels.

As she stood at the edges of the light, just within the cloak of mist, she decided t
hey did not resemble any of the faeries she had already seen.  Heretofore, she had only encountered the peaceful farming village, the royal family, and the courtiers at the ball. These men carried swords, and bows and arrows. They did not look like soldiers, since they wore neither uniform nor identifying insignia.
So they’re either forest rangers or thieves
, she thought.
Either way, I don’t think I want to stick around to find out, especially if they’re outlaws

S
he took a step back from the clearing, lowering her foot to the ground from toe to heel. When that foot was safely on solid ground, she moved the other. As she crept back into the mist, one of the men looked in her direction.

“Who are you?” he asked, leaping to his feet
and reaching for the sword in the sheath that dangled from his belt.

Shit.

As the man approached, she got a better look at his
rough, patched clothing.

T
hief theory confirmed,
she decided with a grimace as she took another wary step back.
So much for royalty, nobility, and farmers. Who would have thought there was such a thing as faerie highwaymen?

Without waiting to respond to the one faerie’s question, she turned and sprinted
away from their circle, only to run directly into one of them. He radiated strong earth magick as he wrapped his arms around her.

“It’s a human girl,” the faerie said, holding tightly against him.

“Let me go!” Khiara cried, thrashing as hard as she could.  His arms hardened around her and she gasped for breath.

“Bring her here, Bran.”

“Don’t you dare!” Khiara thrust her knee at the one called Bran, surprised to connect with his crotch. He had no choice but to let go of her as he doubled over in pain. The moment his grip on her loosened, she shoved her way past him, knocking him to the ground as she ran.

Another faerie was before her and then a second. They grasped her arms and, no matter how violently she
struggled, she was unable to break free. They were stronger than she had expected. It had been a long time since she had fought with a faerie, but now she was reminded that they were just as capable as any human man of physically dominating an opponent.

“What do we do with her, Galiard?” one asked, jerking hard on her arm to twist it up behind her
. Khiara cried out in pain and fell to her knees, the fae pressing down on her bent limb.

The one who seemed to be their leader glanced at Bran, who still
writhed on the ground in agony. His gaze slid to Khiara. “She has the mark of Titania on her,” he said. “We should ransom her to the Queen for a hefty reward.”

“Good idea,” said the other faerie whose hand
remained clamped on her shoulder.

“Tie her up,” Galiard ordered. “We can’t have her trying to get away from us.”

Before she knew it, Khiara was sitting in the encampment, leaning back against a tree with her wrists and ankles bound. Her arms ached from their rough treatment of her, but she kept twisting her hands in hopes of freeing herself. The men had already gone through her bag and, finding nothing in it, tossed it across the saddle of one of the horses. Khiara wondered why she had not considered trying to pull some sort of weapon out of the bag.
Because I barely had time to think, and that certainly wasn’t my first instinct. Maybe I need to rethink my strategy of running away from everything.

As the sky became darker, Khiara
heaved a sigh and rolled her eyes toward the clouds. She leaned her head back against the tree and wondered where Liam had gone. It seemed like she couldn’t count on him to watch over her after all.

I made a
huge mistake, trusting him. It’s time to stop running, time to start facing problems – even the deadly ones – head-on if I’m going to survive this. I never needed anyone before this and I don’t need anyone’s help now.
The last thought brought a pout to her face, but she didn’t care. All she could do was continue to mess around with the rope in her attempts to loosen it.

The afternoon
felt endless as the bandits talked and laughed among themselves. As evening fell, she watched them prepare a meager dinner consisting of a scrawny creature that Khiara could not identify, along with bread and cheese. One of the faeries whose name she did not yet know brought her something to eat, which she refused by turning her head away from the offering. Galiard and the other faeries laughed at her reticence, and continued to try to force her to eat. When they got tired of the game, they left her alone to spend their time passing a flagon amongst themselves.

After the interminable day, night finally crept over the dismal forest. Khiara felt exhausted by her furtive struggles
, but she waited until, one by one, the bandits fell asleep. The only one who remained awake was Bran, who had taken the first watch of the night.

Khiara closed her eyes as if she were also asleep
.
Fine, so being human doesn’t work. What about being fae?
She waited until her breath settled and told herself,
In through the nose, out through the mouth
, the same way she instructed her students to breathe in guided meditation.

As soon as she relaxed, she felt the faerie magick within her change from a hint of power to a free-flow of energy throughout her body.
Fire
, she chanted in her mind again and again.
Bring me fire.

She focused on finding a spark of that element in the land and air around her, as well as from within. For a moment, she thought she felt a hot ember at her wrists
. Something hot flickered at her skin and she felt a pinch, before it faded.

“The earth magick in that rope will smother any fire that tries to burn through it.”

Khiara opened her eyes to see Bran standing over her, leering down at her. He knelt next to her and his fingers brushed over her cheek.

“You really know how to hurt a man,” he said
almost admiringly as he caressed her. “But your fire magick is no match for the power of the earth. Earth suppresses fire and keeps it from going any further. You can’t burn through it.”

“Then it’s a good thing they teach us mortal women how to
defend ourselves,” she answered. As much as she wanted to shrink from his touch, she forced herself to sit still and stare back at him. “If I can’t set you on fire, I’ll have to settle for kicking you in the balls again.”

“You won’t get that chance,
mortal girl. In fact, after what you did to me today, I had better make sure everything still works.”

He shoved her to the ground and drove
his knee between hers. As Bran pushed her dress up toward her thighs, Khiara brought her legs up and kicked him in the stomach. He rewarded her with an “Oof,” but her satisfaction was short-lived as he grasped the rope that bound them and severed it with a knife. He clambered atop her, and she swung her hands at his face this time. The faerie thrust the dagger into the dirt somewhere above her head, then looped the rope binding her wrists around it.

“No!” Khiara screamed,
still struggling against him, trying to buck him off of her.

“That feels pretty good, mortal.” Bran reached down to grasp her hips and pull her groin flush with his as she thrashed on the forest floor. Still gripping Khiara’s hips, his fingers digging roughly into her flesh, he leaned over her to run the tip of his tongue al
ong her jaw. She shrieked again. She could feel the blazing heat of the fire magick roiling inside of her, demanding release. The energy grew hotter and hotter as he taunted her, and she felt as though it would burst out of her. Something in her fractured, and the fire seared its way toward the fissure…

“Leave her alone
!”

Through the haze of fury, Khiara saw Bran
scramble back off of her. “Your Highness,” the faerie gasped, falling to his knees. “I’m sorry. We were only going to return her to the capitol. I was just…” The words fell from his lips in a nervous jumble.

“You are just going to leave her alone.”

It took Khiara a moment to process the fact that Liam was kneeling at her feet, inspecting her ankles and the severed rope on the ground. He reached over her head to pull the dagger from the ground and used it to free her wrists. As she rubbed at her sore, rope-burned flesh, Liam turned back to the bandit and said, “This girl is under my protection. Do you understand that?”

“Yes your Highness.” Bran
bowed until his forehead practically touched the earth in his groveling. Even this posture, however, did not appease the power flaring within Khiara.

“Tell your cronies
– in fact, tell any faerie you see that they are not to touch the mortal woman, let alone interfere with her journey. She is mine and I will exact a high price from those who harm her.” Liam pulled Khiara to her feet, and led her away.

Her feet moved in the direction in which he guided her, but she still saw nothing but red.

“Khiara,” he whispered, giving her a little shake. “It’s Liam. Look at me.”

She tilted her head.

“Damn it.” He took her hands between his and said, “Let it go, Khiara. I’ll help.”

As they stood together, the heat within her retreated until she saw clearly once more.

“Are you with me now?” he asked.

She blinked and nodded.

“Good.” Raising his voice once more, the bard said, “I will take these, but I will leave you with this.” He tossed a small bag across the clearing, the contents of which jingled when it hit the ground. “Take the palomino,” he told Khiara, and patted the horse’s neck.

She took the reins and, as soon as she was mounted, Liam handed over her messenger bag. The bard climbed into the saddle of a chestnut steed and dug his heels into its sides. Khiara followed his example and
they rode out of the clearing.

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