Gossamyr Part 48

Both knew to Name her complete-a mortal in Faery-should condemn her to the Otherside evermore.

"I will never utter it, my lady, as my trust to our vows."

"Thank you." And she went on tiptoe and whispered her mortal name to him, then begged he begin to arrange for the evening's ceremony.

Gossamyr looked over the blue marble bal.u.s.trade to the Pa.s.sage below. Bright crimson toadstools formed a perfect circle within the vibrant emerald gra.s.s. A pa.s.sage to a land she would recall with pride and such wonder. Her home. Ever a part of her heart.

An evening breeze perfumed with scythed gra.s.s and primrose hushed over her face and lifted the long trailing sleeves of violet arachnagoss as she spread her arms out to her sides. Faery, filled with memory, times she would not trade for even a glimpse at the mortal life she might have lived.

Vows had been spoken beneath the splendid light of a thousand beeswax candles carried aloft by a muster of violet-tongued piskies. A bronze circlet grasping rose crystals had been placed to Desideriel's head where the smooth tips of horns were just beginning to sprout. He had kissed Gossamyr beneath a swag of fragrant laburnum, merely display to those who witnessed, she knew. For she had not felt a thing during that kiss.

No, that wasn't right. In that moment she had felt much. Loss.

So many she had truly loved-s.h.i.+nn, Avenall, and yes, Ulrich- all to remain only in her heart, never again in her arms.

A great feast had been brought in upon crystal platters. Minstrels had fluttered over the keep, dancing and singing praises of the new lord. Those fee who had ever looked upon Gossamyr with disdain had not changed their looks now she was the new lord's wife. It mattered little; Gossamyr knew who loved her, 'twas enough.

They were delivered to a flower-bedecked bedchamber and toasted with mead. And now the revelry was but a minute pulse to the beating of Gossamyr's heart.

"I will never lose you, Ulrich. For you live here." She pressed a hand over her heart. "Next to my father and Avenall."

Behind her, Desideriel approached, the ceremonial evening garb of crystal-trimmed arachnagoss revealed his bare chest and wide sweeping wings. He carried an applewood staff-one Gossamyr had not before seen -and displayed it across his palms for her.

"It is very fine." Tracing the carved design with a finger, she noted the inlaid crystal. "This pattern looks familiar."

"It is your father's blazon."

"Oh." Bewildered by Desideriel's kindness, she, with a look for permission, accepted the staff and turned from him to spin it thrice. The applewood sang brilliantly in her hand. It was who she was, this warrior wielding a staff. And it felt right. "A very fine piece."

"It is yours," he offered as she leaned against the bal.u.s.trade and he joined her side. "You will need it."

"Certainly, I shall cherish it. As for needing it, the revenants have been defeated. With the rift sealed, Faery is no longer threatened. I have but to serve as your wife now, no matter how far in the background. You won't even notice me, I promise."

He tilted up her chin with a finger. In Desideriel's violet eyes she saw her own reflection. The proud warrior remained defeated even after triumph. But this is how it must be.

"The vows have been said. The Glamoursiege throne has been seated," he said. "You, my lady, are quite unnecessary."

She tried to look away, to hide her bruised integrity, but he held her firm.

"Would that I could keep you here," he said. "But I know your heart belongs elsewhere."

"My heart desires to do s.h.i.+nn's bidding."

"And you have. You must return, Gossamyr."

Verity, she thought. "But-"

"You deserve a long, rich life. Already I have noticed..." He traced the corner of her eye where even Gossamyr had noticed a crinkle in the flesh. Age, racing quickly against her mortal heart. "Though I would offer you my attention, my care, my trust and my admiration, I could never give you my heart. I will never succ.u.mb to the mortal pa.s.sion."

"I know that. I should never ask so much. I have explained I will turn my cheek when you seek another."

"Gossamyr, you are a princess. You should not have to turn your cheek. You deserve love and respect. I think you might find it in the Otherside."

He would allow her to return? Never to find her way back to Faery. "Mayhap."

"There is a man, yes? A mortal man who interests you?"

She shrugged.

"I am jealous."

"You are not."

"Oh, but I am. That a mere mortal can attract my lady wife?"

Did he work to make his voice sound so teasing? Almost flirtatious. Impossible.

"Who is but a mortal herself and who only draws pity from her husband's gaze. But my leaving will change nothing-we will be married still."

"As it must remain. It is not a requirement that the lord of Glamoursiege has a wife to stand at his side. I vow to you I shall not interfere in your mortal affairs."

"You do?" That this man would sacrifice for her? How he had changed! "It is too much to give, I do not deserve-"

He pressed his forefinger to her mouth, silencing her protest. "Return you, to find love and a long life."

Gossamyr clutched the staff, wanting to hug him, to let out a cry for joy. To simply thank him for understanding. For no longer did she belong. Yet she knew his truth in her heart; to release her was not a sacrifice-he put her from his sight as would please him.

He gripped the staff and stepped up to kiss her. A kiss goodbye, an acceptance of sorts. A seal to their agreement to join hands across the distance.

"I should ask to visit you from time to time?"

"Whatever for?"

Desideriel laid both palms to her shoulders. Not a single tingle in that touch, Gossamyr noted. "You are everything your father is. I looked up to s.h.i.+nn, almost as my own sire. He lives within you and in your strength and fire."

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 bal.u.s.trade and ascended slowly to stand in the center of the Pa.s.sage. 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 Pa.s.sage, acknowledging the gift Desideriel had granted her, then skipped across the path to the knee-high gra.s.ses.

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 pa.s.sed, 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 pa.s.sed? 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 gra.s.s. 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 c.o.c.ked 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 d.a.m.ned 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 s.h.i.+eld 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 pa.s.sed 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 pa.s.sion 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 gra.s.ses. 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?"