Gossamyr (50 page)

She nodded. "Suits me fine and well. Send me off. I don't
want to lose another mortal moment!"

Staff clutched in one hand, she stretched her arms out and tilted
back her head. Gossamyr felt her body lift into the air. Propelled by
Desideriel's glamour, she soared over the balustrade and ascended
slowly to stand in the center of the Passage. Looking up, she waved
to the new lord of Glamoursiege.

"Verity d'Ange!" he announced. "Verity d'Ange!
Verity d'Ange, claim your birthright now!"

And stabbing her staff into the ground, she suddenly wobbled but
caught herself with a balance of her hand.

"Achoo!" Faery dust misted about her head.

Verity smiled and leaped from the toadstool circle. Her bare toes
touched the familiar red dirt path and instantly she sensed the
pounding approach of a horse and rider—a lick-for-leather
approach.

Danger?

A smile curled onto Verity's lips.

But barely able to stumble backward, she caught herself from
falling with a stab of her staff into the ground. A black palfrey,
rider crouched and focused, galloped past.

"Kind sir—" she tried, but the rider did not slow.

He hadn't noticed he had almost galloped right over her!

"Mortals," she said, then laughed at herself. "They
be a strange bunch, eh? Achoo!"

It felt grand to be back on the Other— "Home!" she
shouted and spun a merry whirl until one foot stepped upon a
toadstool. Veering from the spongy mushroom, she bowed to the
Passage, acknowledging the gift Desideriel had granted her, then
skipped across the path to the knee-high grasses.

So light! This was home!

The snorting, pounding approach of yet another rider alerted her.
Spinning to witness the unwavering strides of a mighty stallion and
his—

As the rider passed, Gossamyr scratched her head. Twice now. The
horse had been black both times. The rider, merely a black blur for a
cloak billowing about his shoulders, had looked...familiar?

It could not be possible.

On the other hand, this wood was rife with Enchantment.

Planting her feet and staff, Gossamyr waited. She didn't have to
wait long. Again the horse and rider sped past her. So determined he
was to get where he traveled! And if it truly be Ulrich he had found
himself a fine destrier. Had so little time passed? Could it have
been but one sunset since she had been to Faery?

Too much to hope for.

When the rider approached for the fourth time, Gossamyr decided to
intervene. "Lest I be here all the day watching the dizzy
circles of this rider unawares."

Springing to the edge of the path, she thrust out her staff. The
beast stopped abruptly, its sweat-glossed breast heaving but an
armshot from the staff. The rider sailed over the horse's head and
landed a thicket of grass. But a single cry echoed up from the
ground, in that deep, familiar tone Gossamyr knew.

Gripping her long wedding skirts in one hand, she scampered over
to Ulrich. Leaning over his head, she stared down the length of his
body. The same. Blessings, but he was the same!

"Who be—" Blinking and patting his chest, Ulrich
finally looked up and above him to her face. He closed his right eye
and cocked his mouth open. "Faery princess?"

"Yes, 'tis me, Ulrich. Be you fine and well?"

"Fine, yes. As for well, I've just flown like a faery through
the sky and landed on my bottom." He eased a hand over the
mentioned bottom. "It aches, but I don't think it'll leave a
mark."

She offered both hands and he stood and flipped his cloak back
over his shoulder. "You're...here?" He looked her up and
down, touched her sheer sleeve and stepped back a stride to take it
all in. "Looking the faery princess that you are. But still the
same! The same, my precious one."

"Be you the same, as well. Save your blinking eye."

"Can't see a damned thing through it. Blind as the devil to
fire."

Gossamyr's feet were lifted from the ground as Ulrich spun her and
sang of her sameness and how gorgeous a dress made her look.

"Not that you were not gorgeous before," he added as
they spun to a stop and he finally set her down.

"You've found yourself a fine mount."

"Fancy did not want to leave Paris. Uncle Armand kept her."

"You were in a hurry. Did you not notice me thrice over
standing here?"

"Nay, I— You mean it happened again?" Swaggering a
few steps, he held a hand over his brow to shield the sun as he
looked over the forest wall. "I might have traveled all the day
around and about? Ah! I am in a rush, so I thank you for stopping
me."

"Why the hurry?"

"Rhiana, she is yet alive."

"Yes, I remember the unicorn told you. So, no time has passed
since my departure?"

"A few days, but..." He touched her cheek, trailed a
soft finger up under her eye. Noticing the fine lines of age. "Not
the same. Is that why you came back?"

"Do I look so old to you?"

"Mayhap the same age as me now. But yet young! You are back
for ever?"

She nodded.

"Well then, you must come with me. There is room on my mount,
as you can see."

"And your family?"

"I want to see Rhiana safe—be it from a distance—and
my heart will be whole. But what of you? Did you not marry the faery
man?"

"I did. Desideriel Raine is now lord of Glamoursiege."

"You have a husband."

"And you have a wife."

"Yes, but— Ah! We two are in such a fix! This husband
of yours, he approves your coming to the Otherside?"

"He was the one who sent me here."

"I see. So...is it the same?"

Ah, that sound of desire. Of mortal passion all coiled within,
waiting for release! "Is what the same?"

"Us?"

Pressing up on her tiptoes, Gossamyr leaned in to kiss Ulrich. He
embraced her, shaking her from balance and toppling the two of them
into the grasses. With laughter and kisses, they two rolled upon the
ground.

"Is it Gossamyr or Verity?" Ulrich asked, one arm
propped on an elbow as he lay over her.

"Verity. I like the name. Verity d'Ange."

"I will take you to meet your sister."

"You found her?"

"Dominique introduced me after you left. He is married to
her!"

"You speak the truth? Why did he not tell me before?"

"He wanted to honor your quest. And then you left before he
had opportunity to say anything. He suspected you would return."

"So you have met my sister. Is she lovely?"

"Very. But not so lovely as you. Her hair is dark and short
and she is tall and strong like you. A warrior, the changeling
affectionately called her. But I must to St. Renan first."

"Then will you take me to my sister?"

"I vow it, faery princess."

"Then let's be to it!"

Lifting her in his arms, Ulrich spun once and handed her up to sit
the waiting destrier.

"My staff!"

"Ah!" He retrieved the abandoned staff. "A new one,
methinks." He handed it to her and she tucked it under her arm.

"Can't go anywhere without my big stick."

"As well—" he tipped the
arrets
at her
waist "—will you teach me to use these?"

"Of course."

He mounted before her and took up the reins. "Such times we
will have together."

"I look forward to them. Oh!"

"What troubles thee, faery princess?"

Verity gripped the sleeve that had come away from the seam at her
shoulder. "I think I shall need your cloak."

"Again?" He twisted to look at her dismay. Shrugging off
his cloak, she wrapped it about her shoulders and moved close to
slide a hand around his waist as the destrier took to the path.

"Indeed, the same," Ulrich sang. "And we are off to
adventure! The soul shepherd and his naked faery princess."