Gossamyr (18 page)

"This pointy thing is evil!"

"It is a sacred object, how dare you—"

"Sacred? This bedeviled horn—" he shook the
wrapped horn before her, causing Gossamyr to veer back "—attracts
evil like flies to the plague, my lady. You mark my words. Everywhere
I step, evil senses this thing and evil wants it." He gestured
to the men sprawled on the ground behind them. "Do you not find
it at all unusual that we've been so oft attacked?"

"I did. But we stand adjacent to the Netherdred; it is to be
expected with the rift—"

"We stand on French soil, my lady. Paris looms to the north
and the soil beneath our hands is not sprinkled with faery dust.
France! Nothing but!"

"If you have Danced then you should not be so quick to
discount those who travel here from Faery."

"Oh, I do not discount them, I merely wish they were not so
determined and so well armed."

Gossamyr paid him no mind, for something she had said bothered
her. The rift? It made trips to and from Faery much easier. The rift
let out things that did not belong—such as bogies? And let in
the revenants and dancing mortals with an ease that should not be.

We know naught what caused the rift, only a great source of
Enchantment was decimated.

That source be a unicorn.

An unbidden moan preceded Gossamyr's sorry shake of head. She
lifted her head and eyed the wrapped horn Ulrich clutched so
covetously. Surely the Enchantment had bespelled him. But, could it
truly be, the very cause for the rift, held in a mere mortal's hands?

"What are your plans for the alicorn?"

Tilting the horn this way then that before his eyes, Ulrich said,
"Not your concern."

"Not my— Be this the reason for your quest?"

"It may be. Yes. Don't look at me like that. I plan to return
it to the beast!"

"The unicorn? Why?"

"Not your concern."

"You've plans to use it? How? And don't you dare say—
This
is
my concern!"

Gossamyr swung up her staff, preparing to catch him under the
chin, but Ulrich slapped his palm across the end of the stick. His
boldness raised her ire. How dare this pitiful mortal handle the
alicorn!

"Very well." He held the alicorn like a sword. It peeked
from the black cloth, threatening with its beauty. "It is legend
the one who returns the alicorn to its rightful owner is in return
granted one wish. I need that wish, and I will have it."

"To bring life to your dead damsel?"

"You are most perceptive."

"It is a cruel magic you seek to employ. I will not have it!"

"It is not your place to have it or not to have it. The
alicorn is mine, paid for with real coin—coin that does not
disperse to dust."

"It belongs to no man! Least of all no mortal man."

"I told you I intend to return it."

"For your own gain!"

Ulrich tipped the air with the horn. "Yes, my gain. But tell
me how else this thing will ever find its way back to the unicorn. If
I simply succumbed to evil and let it ride off with the prize it
would never again see the unicorn. Someone has to bring it to the
beast. That someone will be me."

"Oh? And where do you plan to find a unicorn? And a hornless
one at that!"

"I am...following my heart."

Gossamyr snorted. The man actually bristled. He had no right to
take offense!

"It is a real feeling I have had ever since taking claim to
the alicorn. I am being led. And so I follow."

"To Paris?"

"Indeed. So, if you wish to keep an eye on the thing then
remain by my side. But I promise a fight should you even consider
taking it from me."

"I would not touch the alicorn if the only other option were
facing a throng of revenants." Only the pure of heart could
press flesh to the alicorn and not suffer burns or great calamity.
Everyone knew that!

"Well then, your argument fades. Shall we be off?"

Such dread filled her gut, completely opposite, Gossamyr felt, of
how she should feel to be in the presence of the sacred horn. The
song of the alicorn was muted, wrapped within the black cloth. Wicked
portents caressed her bones. Evil wants it?

"Keep it tucked away."

"Trust me, I will. But it will matter little; evil will find
us."

"Evil..." Gossamyr was suddenly struck by a realization.
But of course—it must be! "You say you follow your heart?"

"Yes, a calling; as if I am being led."

"Why Paris? The mortal city is as far from Faery as one can
possibly travel. Certainly no place for a unicorn."

"As I said, I am merely following my instincts. I sense that
is where my troubles will find relief. So Paris it is."

Instincts?
I
am being led.
Could the Red Lady be
luring Ulrich to Paris? It made sense. Because a unicorn in the great
city of Disenchantment defied all logic.

Gossamyr paced, her eye keen upon the wrapped horn in Ulrich's
grip. Suddenly the lightness of this mortal air had been stirred to a
wicked simmer of intrigue and confusion. From the moment she had set
foot on the Otherside Ulrich had been impossible to shrug off. Had
her original instincts been true? Did he accompany her for a purpose?

Had some part of Faery known what he carried in the tattered
saddlebag? And so the enchanted wood would not have allowed her to
march off alone, but to accompany the one thing that could restore
Enchantment complete to Faery.

"The alicorn is the key," she said.

Swiping a hand across his dirt-smeared face, Ulrich stared at
Gossamyr. He handled the horn with such disregard. Impossible that he
knew its true power. Mayhap that was a boon, for in the hands of the
unknowing the alicorn could be little more than a nuisance—which
stirs up evil.

Wherever I go, evil follows. And evil wants it.

It seduced all far and wide. So why had
she
not sensed it?
So close for two days and not even a hint of the Enchantment within a
stride? To think on it overmuch troubled. Time—her mortal
enemy—would not allow more than reaction.

Gossamyr retrieved her staff, and with a glance to the prone men,
then scanned for the mounts. Both chargers and her palfrey galloped
toward the horizon. "Isn't that some luck?" She patted
Fancy's saddlebags. Briefly she sought for something, a vibration,
some call from the contents. Nothing. "We are in this together
now. She knows."

"We are? Wh-who knows?"

"The Red Lady. I believe she entices thee toward Paris. An
alicorn in the hands of that woman would prove chaos."

"You mean I'm being led to Paris by—by evil?"

"You said so yourself."

"But I thought...well, I assumed... By the same red woman who
has been sucking the innards from your rogue faery men? Let's turn
around. I'd prefer to keep my insides intact, if you don't mind."

"You told me you followed an instinct. That you can think
only to travel to Paris."

"Indeed." Fingers to chin in thought, his eyes darted
furiously across the ground. Fear brightened the blue to overwhelm
the white. Gossamyr could verily scent his distraction, taste the
fear brewing out from his every breath. "So we were meant to
travel together?"

"It may have been Enchanted, the forest."

"That must be it!" Spinning into a grand gesture, arms
punching the air and head tilted back, Ulrich ended with a stomp and
a splay of arms before her. "A man mustn't question destiny. We
were meant to come together."

"I knew nothing of the contraband alicorn you carry when we
first met. Which begs to wonder now why you were so eager to remain
with me."

"Truth?" Ulrich shrugged. "When I thought you were
a faery I couldn't summon a better traveling companion. If there is a
unicorn in seek of its horn surely an enchanted being will attract it
more quickly than a mere mortal."

"I cannot believe you simply intended to ride about Paris
until your path crosses with the unicorn."

"Dangling my half faery as bait."

She sneered at him. To be called bait made her feel low as a
slithering insect. He said it in jest, surely. On the other hand, he
held no fealty to her or Faery. He simply sought his own means, with
no regard for her fate. Not an ally.

"Is there a simpler way to call the beast to my side? I
forgot my virginal maiden at home." He swallowed. All angles on
his face fell and tightened with a quickening grimace. "Rhiana,
she died a cruel death."

A name? Yet another truth from the man's past. But such
information softened Gossamyr's stern need to push away the mortal
who held Enchantment hostage. "I am sorry for your loss."

He splayed a sweeping hand through the air in a lost gesture,
ending it with a powerful punch. "Every road I take I meet a bad
thing that wants to crush my skull and make off with the alicorn. And
you've been little help thus far."

"Me? I've— I have fended off two attacks, you thankless
bit of...!" No, she did not wish to name him ill. Heavy, his
heart. It was a familiar sensation. Gossamyr recalled the time Shinn
had mourned Veridienne's absence. Yet, her father remained morose and
stern. Had Ulrich lost a wife?

"I could have protected myself." He brandished the
arrowless crossbow. Gossamyr shoved it from her peripheral view.

She blew out a disgusted breath and pounded the ground with her
staff. "I'd walk away from you right now if I did not think the
wiser."

"And what holds you here? Be gone with you!"

"What keeps me at your side is the alicorn, and the knowledge
it may well fall into the hands of a vicious succubus. And wish you
to believe a mere fée would have attracted the unicorn to the
alicorn, imagine then what the Red Lady might do. Go ahead. Imagine
it. Right now. I'll wait." She slammed her arms across her
chest.

The enormity of the situation must be dealt with. For if they
carried a lure for evil, their journey to Paris could only grow more
perilous.

"I have no idea, Faery Not," Ulrich snapped. "I
have little knowledge of this red lady. Is she queen supreme of the
Faery realm? Does she possess powers untold?"

"She hails from the Netherdred and was banished for crimes to
which I am not privy. The essences she steals feed her glamour,
keeping the Disenchantment at bay."

"There is that word again: Netherdred," Ulrich said.
"Just what horrors should I conjure to match that?"

"The Netherdred are a tribe of fée who inhabit the
borders of Faery. Said borders surrounding any major mortal city,
such as Paris; Enchantment cannot exist in such densely populated
mortal lands. They are the outcast, the rogues and thieves of Faery."

"I see." Approaching with finger to chin, he disregarded
his plea for propriety and stepped right up to Gossamyr. Blue eyes
darted about her face. A smile started, then fled, then burst into
fullness. "And what be you?"

"Tribe Glamoursiege." Tugging up her tucked skirt, she
tilted the crest attached at her hip to display the coat of arms.

"Ah." He perused the applewood sigil. His fingers moved
over the raised carvings, once brushing her hip so briefly, the
shimmer of mortal touched but singed. "Wings and a sword."

"Wrapped by holly. We are peaceable now."

Ulrich nodded and straightened. He touched her more frequently,
and with an ease that should be reserved for mates.

"There are others: the Wisogoths, Merovech, Mer-de-Soleil."

"Small cities within Faery?"

"Of a sort."

With a twist of his feet he began to pace a circle, arms clasped
across his chest and all focus on her. Ever moving, the man possessed
an energy that appealed. It had been a time since Gossamyr had
commanded a man's attention. And for as many tears she had cried, and
had then sworn to never open her heart again, it was difficult not to
react to the flutter of interest that tickled her belly.

"So the red lady rules the Netherdreds?" Ulrich asked.

"No. Since Banishment she is no longer a part of Faery, yet—
according to Shinn—she ever attempts to return. The essences,
as I've explained."

"Indeed. And essences are like our mortal souls. Wait right
there—faeries don't have souls, everyone knows that."

"They do, too."

"Do not." A forceful fist pounded the air above his
head. "Faeries are heartless and cruel and lack emotion and they
are nothing but tricksters!"

"They do not lack emotion!"

A grin slid onto Ulrich's lips. "Well, I'll give you that."

"What?"

"You finally rose to the bait, Faery Not. So maybe you do
have a little mortal in there somewhere. You anger easily enough."

And what was that about? She was not quick to anger. Just moments
ago she had been near to mooning over the man's fierce blue gaze.
Blight, but the introduction of the alicorn had twisted her from
sorts. "The fée do have souls—rather, they are
essences—and it is their essences the Red Lady steals."

"Before or after their death? Have you figured that?"

"It can only be after their death. We saw the red essence in
the last village."

"Yes, and then that...thing."

"Following the Red Lady's kiss the fée become
deathless revenants, unable to incite the final
twinclian
until
they claim an essence."

"Do you think that man with the pins stole the essence?"

"You saw, as did I, the
thing
he speared onto his pin.
It was the essence."

"Mayhap he brings the pinned essence to this red lady. What
does she do with them?"

"I know naught, but I will learn, right before I take her
out. Now—" she leaped astride Fancy "—mount
behind me and let's be off. There is little time for chatter."

"As my lady commands of me, so shall I follow."

With little room for the two of them, Ulrich sat close, propping
his palms upon her hips, but not holding firmly. Gossamyr reined
Fancy onward. She felt a solid warmth against her shoulders and
guessed Ulrich had laid down his forehead. A heavy sigh preceded his
weary question, "Can she take a mortal man's soul?"