Gossamyr (40 page)

"It was not indifference that hurt you, child of mine, but
fear. I feared losing you so much—"

"So you kept a lie in hopes I would return to live ever after
in Faery by your side."

"Selfish of me."

Only when Gossamyr heard Shinn's sniff did she look up into his
watery violet eyes. "You do love? But...I am not your own."

"You are as my own flesh, Gossamyr. The day I sent you to the
Otherside I wept. For the first time in my life. It is
most...uncomfortable." He touched the corner of his eye and
studied a teardrop, jiggling on his fingertip as if an alien thing.
"I deserve your hate, but never your love."

And he would have her hate. But she would temper it with the
inexplicable compulsion to cling to the only constancy she had ever
known—her father.

"What of my mortal parents?"

"They were murdered a few years back."

Gossamyr's jaw fell open.

"I am sorry. The d'Anges. The—that is the castle where
you stopped. I saw it through the fetch."

"I was drawn to my place of birth?"

"It is not a wonder."

"But what I found there. It was destitute. The destruction.
Do you know how they died? Have you watched them? Are they all lost
to me? Please tell me, Shinn, I must know."

"Very well. The d'Anges were murdered by a dark lord, who
later fell at the hands of your mortal sister. She yet lives under
the watch of an Enchanted, though I know not where."

"I have a sister?" She splayed a hand across the
membrane of Shinn's wing, which curled around her back. Warm and
soft, like an arm hugging her close.

Completely mortal. And a family? A sister? How had her real
parents died? Had they suffered? Had they mourned her absence? What
had her mortal mother's hands felt like? Had she loved her more than
Veridienne ever could?

"I always felt you had a better life in Faery. It pained me,
your fascination with the Otherside. But I knew that the mortal
passion had been yours to own since birth. In a manner, this mission
was my gift to you."

The gift of freedom. The price? Truth.

To age and die? "Can I return to Faery? Will Time age me so
quickly as it has aged you?"

"I have lived this aging, child of mine. I cannot guess what
Time will serve you now that the truth is yours. It is legend a
mortal who knows he does not belong will perish once returned to
Faery, for the aging takes with great lust."

"That is why you kept the truth. To return to Faery now, I
would..."

"I guess you would age as you should have here in the
Otherside."

"But it has not been so long. Avenall, he claims he has been
here less than a mortal moon cycle."

"Time twists widdershins and thus, Gossamyr. No man, beast or
fée can stop or control it. While you have lived in Faery,
many mortal years have passed, and yet, so few."

Gossamyr heaved in a shivering sigh. Her tears depleted, she could
feel but an emptiness. But yet, 'twas as if that hole had begun to
fill by that bit of wonder that had ever traced her heart.
What is
the mortal passion?
Love.

How she fit into the air here in the Otherside.

"You placed me in the Otherside for a purpose. I have not
given up the fight."

"And the man..."

"Ulrich?" She chuckled, mayhap because that was the only
emotion she had yet to loose. "But of course. I suspected as
much when in the forest. You enchanted him into my life. Did you
think I needed protection?"

"Compassion. He has not proven me wrong."

"Do you know he is a Dancer?"

"Yes, and he possesses the sight because of it. I know you
witnessed the Dance, Gossamyr. I saw your foray into the mortal
passion."

So she had guessed correctly. "He is a good man. Though I
dare not leave him alone too long. I fear he will succumb to the Red
Lady's seduction."

"He is more susceptible with the sight."

And determined to follow the lure—

"Shinn! He carries an alicorn."

The aging fée warrior drew in a hissing breath. "This
I have not seen through the fetch."

"It is what will heal the rift, I know it! Ulrich wants to
return it to the unicorn in exchange for a wish granted. His
daughter, she was sacrificed to a dragon, and he wants her back."

"He asks far too much with its return. One must not raise the
dead."

She had believed much the same, until she had learned to know
Ulrich.
You think a man cannot love a child not of his blood?

Ulrich and Shinn, they two were alike.

"It gives him hope. A purpose."

"Mortals have always aspired to purpose. As have you,
Gossamyr. I had only thought to give you that purpose. But this
alicorn. . .you must not return it."

"What?"

Wind sifted Shinn's gray hair across his staunch jaw.
Not the
same.
How many of her father's moons had been stolen from her
with his Passage to the Otherside?

"Gossamyr, as it stands now, I can bring you back to Faery.
As my daughter, whether blooded or not, you belong in Faery."

"But I will age?"

"I can return your glamour, though it will not be fixed by
Enchantment. There...is the marriage to consider."

"Of course." The two tribes must unite. As well,
Glamour-siege must eventually receive an heir to the throne. "How
selfish of me—"

"Gossamyr."

She pushed out from Shinn's wing embrace and strode toward the
stream. Another reason her father did not want her to leave his
side—the business of securing the Glamoursiege reign—yet
he would never put that into the air.

"Why should I return to marry and to rule a land not my own?"

"Because Glamoursiege is your home!"

"Oh?"

"It is the only home you have ever known."

"But you schemed to place Desideriel at my side. It is
imperative I marry a full-blood fée. Does Desideriel know?
That I am but a mortal changeling?"

"Gossamyr—"

"Tell me!"

"He does not. He believes you half-blooded. And should
evermore."

"More lies! When will the truth ever be safe? Yet my return
will see my swift decline. How soon before the aging reduces me to
but bone? You ask me to sacrifice for the good of Faery."

"I should not ask so much of one I love."

"Faeries know not how to love," Gossamyr spat.

"Why can you not believe a man is capable of loving someone,
of caring for and raising a child not of his flesh?"

"Because..."

Ulrich's situation flashed before her. The man quested to bring
his daughter back to him. A child whom he did not know to be his or
another man's.

Never had she felt Shinn was being false with her. His cruelties
never weakened his kindnesses. He could speak the truth. She wanted
him to speak the truth. Why now should he lie?

"Very well. I...accept that you love me. And that Veridienne
loved me. But what has my return to do with the alicorn?"

"If you heal the rift, you close the means for your return. I
will be forever sealed off from you."

And the marriage would not take place.

"But the fée can always Passage to the Otherside. You
could...visit me, as you do now, without risking Disenchantment."

"My next visit may be my last." He stroked away a strand
of hair from his face. Had the wrinkles deepened? He was aging before
her eyes.

"You ask me to keep the rift open, to allow the revenants'
continued return?"

"Your defeat of the Red Lady will stop them." He bowed
his head, clenching his fists near his face. "I don't want to
lose you, Gossamyr."

"But Faery—it will suffer for—"

"For my selfish desires."

For a father's love. For a marriage that would crown Shinn's
successor. Both noble desires. And since when did she ever believe
that she could choose a life of her own making? The truth should not
change any of that.

"Shinn, I don't know what to do."

"You know my wishes. You know the fate of Glamoursiege lies
in your hands. But I will not keep you from doing what you feel is
right. You are truly a champion. Valor has always been yours."

"Valor," she muttered, remembering the words painted on
the dented shield. "And vengeance."
Your mortal sister
killed him.
"And the truth. Have I the truth?"

"Truth is your name, Verity d'Ange."

"Verity? That is a part of my—"

"Gossamyr Verity de Wintershinn. Veridienne and I felt you
should retain that part of your heritage."

"My, my mortal name." The knowledge landed her, light as
a feather, to her shoulder. So precious, and she had held such all
this time.

He lifted her hand and pressed it to his cheek, which momentarily
brightened the tear trail. Not warm, Shinn's flesh, but neither cold.
Drawing her hand away, he clasped it between both of his. "Now
you have the truth. All of it. You must not worry for the world,
Gossamyr. Think of yourself."

"Myself?" Verity d'Ange. Mortal. "Yes, so much I
have wanted. So much I have received."

But there were others. "Can Avenall ever remember?"

Shinn shrugged. "I could make it so. Do you wish it?"

"I'm not sure."
Not the same.
"What if I
Named him complete?"

"You might try. The Red Lady's power over him is great with
the essences that feed her."

"What is her complete name, Shinn? You must know."

"I do, but the Naming will not command her. Circelie made a
pact with a witch for her Naming. A foul mix of glamour and magic
shield her from any Enchantment I might wield against her." Now
he touched her forehead, connecting. Lowering his head, he kissed her
in the wake of his thumbprint. "If I could have used the truth,
I would have. Never forget I love you. I do not know how to hate
you."

"I cannot forget something that lives in my heart. Thank you
and. ..curse you."

With that, Shinn shimmered through the curtain that separated the
Otherside from Faery. And Gossamyr fell to her knees and caught her
hands at the edge of the stream.

A wavery reflection of a woman stared up at her. Silver light
glinted in the purling waters sparkling like a crown about her blowsy
tresses. Perhaps a remnant of her bath to wash away the glamour. If
only she had known then, she might have clung to the Enchantment a
bit longer.

"No," she whispered to the woman in the stream. "This
be who I am. Mayhap I have always known. Only now can I accept the
truth." She speared a finger into her reflection, dispersing the
regretful moue on the woman's lips.

There were things to do. Action to be taken.

But.

"Is my path now the same?" she wondered as she rose and
scanned the wall of the city that had kept attacking enemies at bay
for countless mortal moons.

The enemy was already inside the gates, safely shrouded within
walls of marble. Walls undulating with the stolen lives of the
Disenchanted. Shinn's lover. A vindictive succubus who would make her
Faery father suffer for deeds he could not undo. How he must have
felt to look upon his newly born child, a changeling cursed by the
Red Lady. Then was when Shinn's heart must have broken.

Had it ever healed? Or had Gossamyr's difficulties in adjusting to
Faery, and her ultimate mutiny, ripped Shinn's heart to irreparable
shreds?

Had the man the capacity to love as only Gossamyr knew she could
love?
I
kept the truth to keep you in my heart. You are my
mortal passion.

Yes.

Gossamyr smiled at the voice inside her head. Shinn's voice. He
was with her. And that knowledge comforted.

"Faery might not be my home, but it is in my heart. I will
not step away from my quest."

The shimmer was as a fallen star, or a portion of moonlight
hovering in the mute shadows between two buildings. Ulrich, clutching
the saddlebag covetously, stepped forward, his mouth agape. The
brightness softened and he was able to look directly at the image for
more than a few blinks.

Slowly the brilliance shimmied and moved and began to form. A man?

But of course. He doubted no strange creature. Had he not seen, in
the past se'nnight, more than any sane mortal should see for a
lifetime?

Thinking to turn away from witnessing, from pressing further into
his memory visions of Faery, Ulrich splayed his hand before his face.

Yet a male voice, calm and rimmed with the remarkable jingle of
Faery, stirred him to look fully into the face of a most marvelous
being. A head taller than he, the creature. Glints of bronze and
crystal gleamed with the illumination of Faery there at his brow and
on his shoulder and lower, rimming his cloak. Streams of silver hair
listed in the breeze. Small horns sprouted at his temples, glittering
with so much Faery glamour. Regal, spoke his carriage; melancholy
spoke his face.

Ulrich knew without thinking who stood before him. Impulsively he
clutched the saddlebag tighter until he could feel the hard form of
the alicorn cleave into his ribs.

The lord of Glamoursiege extended his hand. Ulrich flinched and
stepped back.

"Jean Cesar Ulrich Villon III."

"You—you know my name?"

"You see me?"

Ulrich nodded effusively. If he ran, would the Faery lord give
chase? What was he doing here in Paris when Gossamyr had been
emphatic regarding her father's aversion to the city, his risk to
Disenchantment? And hadn't she just gone to seek him?

Remain, Jean Cesar Ulrich Villon III.

The Faery lord had named him complete. Ulrich could but stand. And
admire.

Do not move.

The urge to run slipped away like rain purling over a blanched
skull.

Moving more upon a glimmer than actually stepping, Shinn swayed
closer.

His fingernails digging into the leather bag, Ulrich felt the
inexplicable urge to bow, to coil into his torso and prostrate
himself. But as his knees wobbled and his stomach roiled, he found
the fortitude to remain standing.