Gossamyr (3 page)

"Yes, because you believe."

Yes, yes. Always he repeated the mantra to her: Believe and you
Belong. She believed. She belonged! Nothing could change that.

"Faery is your home," he said. "Should you venture
away...you must then return."

To marry Desideriel was the unspoken part.

"Indeed. And my home is no longer safe unless someone stops
the Red Lady. I want to help Faery. How will I ever stand in your
place if there is naught a place to stand?"

The summer breeze lifted Shinn's jet hair over his shoulders and
twisted fine strands around the horns at his temples. Gossamyr read
the pain in his tightened jaw. His own memories haunted. It had been
much simpler for her to place aside the memories of an always-distant
mother.

"Grant me this opportunity, Shinn. I will return to you."

"You vow to me?"

A father's fear: violet eyes unwilling to focus upon hers;
hyacinth, heady and oozing with an expectant pulse.

"You won't lose me, Shinn. I vow it upon my fée
essence."

Gossamyr noted the twitch at the corner of her father's mouth.
Suppression always tightened his features. "This mission is
deadly. Time cannot be tricked or defeated."

A stab of her staff rang against the marble. "I am skilled."

"A—" Shinn looked to the summer-pale sky
"—champion is needed."

A champion. "Oh." Her bravado mellowed, Gossamyr bowed
her head.

Indeed, a champion.

When had she ever proven herself in battle? Fighting dirt-casting
core worms and drunken bogies? Night-creeping spriggans rarely
offered more than a few moments' struggle before scampering away from
challenge. Werefrogs were vicious but stupid. Tournaments offered her
but display of singular combat skills. There had not been opportunity
for real challenge here in Glamoursiege. And she'd never been off the
Spiral, not even a near fall from the Edge.

The touch of Shinn's finger lifted Gossamyr's gaze up to his. His
eyes glittered. With tears? She had not thought to ever see the like.
Certainly it was a mirage created by the sun and the glimmer of his
blazon.

"Of course you do know champions are not simply ready and
able?"

She lifted a brow.

"They are made. Truly, you are the only one for this mission,
Gossamyr." He bowed his head and clasped his fingers, the moue
of his mouth frowning. But in a remarkable recovery he lifted a
confident eye to Gossamyr. The former commander relayed battle
details. "The Red Lady is malicious and is unlikely to rest
until her penchant for feeding off fée essence restores her
ability to return to Faery. She scents them out, newly arrived in the
city, just as Disenchantment has begun to set in, for then the
essence still retains its glamour."

Gossamyr touched the faint blazon curling up her neck in a manner
of twisting design. Would Disenchantment steal her blazon?

"But most important..."Another heavy sigh released what
Gossamyr guessed to be regret and fear and the intense compulsion to
protect his only child. "You are ready."

A champion? Gossamyr straightened her shoulders and lifted her
chin.
Have at me.

Eagerness uncontained, she blurted, "How will I know the Red
Lady? Is she...red?"

Shinn's smirk teased at a genuine smile. "You will know her
when you see her. Banished long ago, she bears the mark."

The mark. Yes. Horrid memories flooded Gossamyr's mind. She had
witnessed a banishment. The curl of red pinpricks boring into flesh.
A cri de tenon.
The suddenness of expulsion. And her bruised
heart.

"You have seen the mark," Shinn had the audacity to
remark.

A nod confirmed Gossamyr's understanding. Bile stirred in her
throat. "Speak no more on it; I will know it when I see it."

Swallowing back memory, Gossamyr sorted the facts. A succubus fée.
Red. Banished. An unmistakable mark. Paris. Her father never
elaborated beyond the necessary information.

"How long ago was she banished?"

"Before your birth."

"Ah." And yet, only now the succubus had begun to havoc
the Otherside? Hmm...

"Mortal time is different than in Faery," Shinn
commented. "You will find it faster, startling. But most
important, you know much about the Otherside; that will serve well."

"I have gleaned what I can while studying Mother's Bestiary
of Humans—" Gossamyr stopped. Shinn did not appear
startled by her confession. She had ever used stealth to steal into
the locked study to snoop, much to the horror of her maid, Mince.

Veridienne had been detailing the mortals, magnifying them on
amphivellum in the most remarkable detail, diagramming their manner
and social ways from memory—re-creating her natural history.
Gossamyr pored over the articles any chance she could find. The
drawings were marvelously rendered in gild and such pigments created
from madder, azurite and verdigris. Text gave splendid descriptions
of clothing, food and custom.

I
know you are half-mortal, Gossamyr. Your brown eyes
intrigue. You are exotic...

Shucking off the cloying memory of a Rougethorn's enraptured
voice, Gossamyr looked to her father. He studied her, his jaw tight.
Ever visible, the hurt in Shinn's eyes.

"I wanted to touch a part of her," Gossamyr offered in a
quiet voice. "It was difficult trying to get close to her. She
was ever busy."

"Veridienne loved you, Gossamyr. The mortal passion led her
astray. Nothing more. You two are devastatingly alike,
so...passionate about life. Rebellion runs like ichor through your
veins."

Ichor? Not in this half-blood's veins, she thought wistfully.

Gossamyr felt her father's sadness ran far deeper than he would
ever show. Had Veridienne's departure been rebellion? To journey to
the Otherside had always been her dream, but a dream tainted by the
reality of her mother's absence.

"I have been nothing but clear regarding your never Passaging
to the Otherside."

A shiver prinkled up Gossamyr's spine. Would he yet deny her this
mission? Forbid her from yet another enticing fragment of life?
Champions were made, not hired! And such an experience for the future
lady of Glamoursiege! There was yet opportunity...

She scuffed her palms across her leather braies and scanned the
gloss shimmering in her father's violet eyes.

"It is dangerous. We both know that." Shinn's breaths
settled in the air between them, heavy with something akin to dread.
"But the time has come to release you from a father's protective
obsession."

Apprehension tightened Gossamyr's limbs so she stood boldly erect.

"Yes, you see, even I have my obsession. I cannot protect you
once you leave Faery."

She needn't protection. With staff in hand and a keen eye for
danger, Gossamyr invited the experience.

"Just remember," he said. "Always Believe—"

"And I will Belong. I know, Shinn. Worry not, I will never
lose mind of my home. Will there be revenants on the Otherside?"

"No, they flee to Faery as quickly as the essence is stolen."

"Which is why you must remain here."

"Indeed. A fée can only travel to the Otherside on so
many occasions before Time masters his body. I have journeyed there
many a time. Would that I could accompany you."

"You mustn't risk it."

"I will muster my troops and prepare for a sure battle. I
sense their numbers will only increase as the Red Lady remains
unstopped. I have been witness only to those who return to
Glamoursiege. I expect other Faery tribes have been attacked, as
well."

"These revenants, what happens when one does manage to obtain
an essence?"

"That would leave an innocent fée dead, and the
revenant would have its final
twinclian."

"Would not the innocent become revenant?"

Shinn nodded. "You understand this vicious cycle could
cripple Faery."

Further reason to avoid delay. Time must be faced. "I can do
this."

His smile didn't quite reach his eyes. "I know."

Why did a prinkle suddenly cleave to Gossamyr's spine? This is
what she most desired.

"I should not send you alone."

"There are none in Faery who can accompany me." For
there were none with mortal blood to protect them from the Red Lady's
seeking lure. "You'll need your troops here to fight the
revenants."

"Perhaps a pisky guide—"

"What of Mince?"

"She is far too aged, and honestly, much too plump to keep
your pace. The Disenchantment would take her swiftly."

Indeed. Gossamyr would not risk the matron, even as she dreaded
leaving her maternal influence. The only kind arms she had known
following Veridienne's departure, for Shinn did not express his
concern with sympathetic touches but with stronger actions, such as
teaching her to fight.

"I will fare well on my own."

"Mayhap a fetch?" Shinn nodded, pleased with his notion.
"Indeed, I will send one along to repeat back to me your
successes."

She liked that he already thought of her success.

"Now, Disenchantment occurs quickly," he warned. "Once
you set foot on the Otherside you've perhaps less than a day before
you lose all glamour."

"I have no glamour!"

"You've a cloak of glamour." He splayed his fingers
before her face, raising a sensation of warmth in her flesh, drawing
the shimmer of the fée to the surface. There in the blazon
tracing her collarbones and upper chest did she feel the magic, the
innate
being
of her kind. The prinkles dancing on Gossamyr's
spine subsided.

"It has seeped into you over the years," Shinn assured.

So she twinkled. That did not mean she could perform
twinclian.
Hers was a false glamour. No flight, no
twinclian,
no
glamour. Lousy fée she had turned out to be. Half-blooded was
nothing more than mortal.

Gossamyr tightened her grip about the staff and strummed her
fingers across the clutter of stringed
arrets
dangling from
her braided-leather hip belt. "What of my skills, my speed?"

Shinn set a hand on her shoulder. Violet eyes looked into hers, as
if to leap into her being. "The skills you have honed over the
years are yours to own, Gossamyr. Nothing can strip your physical
prowess or your battle technique."

She nodded and slid a hand upon the Glamoursiege coat of arms that
she also wore on her hip belt, her family's sigil, it was carved from
the same applewood as her staff. "What of my essence, er...my
soul? Do I have both? Can the Red Lady take either from me?"

"Your mortal blood—as well, the fact you are
female—will serve a boon. The succubus will not have the
slightest interest in you."

Her father's voice, deep and strung with a melodious harmony,
vibrated within her. Ever and anon he had protected her—even
when that protection had hurt her heart. When all other fée
would look upon her with a strange reluctance that would keep them an
armshot away, yet still amiable, Shinn stood at her side, his pride
in her apparent in the determination that pressed back the naysayers.

"Desideriel will be glad of my absence," she remarked.

"He is a fine match, Gossamyr. We have discussed this
overmuch."

"I do not like him. Do you not sense his distaste for me?"

"You see things only you wish to see."

With a sigh she offered a silent agreement. So, too, did Shinn see
only what he wished to see.

So little to look forward to with her marriage to a man who saw
only her faults, and yet, she did anticipate taking the Glamoursiege
reign.

"I have groomed him." Reluctance cautioned Shinn's
voice. "He understands what is expected."

"As well do I." A marriage for Glamoursiege, her heart
be cursed to suffer for it. But she did respect her father's choice.

She would speak to Desideriel Raine. Perhaps look again into his
eyes and determine if it truly was only her that thought to see his
reluctance.

Shinn reached for her staff and drew it between the two of them.
One toise in length, the steel-hard applewood had been carved by the
Glamoursiege sage and fire-forged by dragon's breath. Intricate
ribbons weaved into a crosswork of roses and flame about the rich
wood.

"I will not bid you farewell," he offered as he pressed
the staff into her hand. "Because you are unable to
twinclian,
you will have to Passage. There is no way to place you
immediately in Paris, so a journey awaits. Take this purse of coin,
purchase a swift horse and make haste."

Slipping a leather pouch from his hip, he then tied it to her
belt. His fingers lingered on the coat of arms before relenting and
stepping back.

Gossamyr spread her fingers around the ample pouch, feeling rich
with its weight. Never had she required coin, for her father's
steward and Mince had seen to her needs and desires. How she would
miss Mince!

Shinn touched her forehead with his thumb and closed his eyes,
imprinting the whorls of his life upon her flesh, connecting with her
hidden eye, the all-seeing and all-knowing. No lack of glamour could
dispel intuition.

"Come back to me," Shinn whispered.

A sudden hollowness in her chest forced her to swallow back a
strange sense of loss. It wasn't as if she would never again see him.
And Mince, the fretful matron, would only worry should she seek her
for a farewell. Such discovery waited her on the Otherside!

"I will," she promised. "Set me off, and I shall
succeed."

"I send you forth with my blessing, child of mine. Make right
what you shall, and may you discover the solace to the ache that has
been your nemesis."

With a nod, Gossamyr silently vowed that ache—the mortal
passion—would not defeat her.

The soft press of Shinn's lips replaced his thumb. Gossamyr lifted
her head and in the violet gaze looming over her she found all the
strength she would ever need. "I am off, then?"