Part 31 (2/2)

”Do not continue to speak that name!”

”It is your name.”

”It means nothing to me.”

Gossamyr blew out a breath. Indeed, she must Name him to break the glamour. ”I name thee Avenall of...”

Of. Of what? Tightening her brows, Gossamyr searched her memory. Avenall... Why could she not place his name complete? She knew this man. She had once thought to give herself complete to him.

”I must go.” Ulrich rose behind Gossamyr.

She reached back to grasp Ulrich's hand but touched only the flutter of his cape. ”No! She calls to you!”

A squeal of triumph shot through Gossamyr's system. Not her own rejoiceful cry.

Avenall danced, his stolen prizes glowing, one speared on a pin in each hand. ”She lies, the mortal warrior. She cannot name me.”

In that instant the bell of the great cathedral on the island began to peal.

”Ah, Jacqueline!” Ulrich called, raising his hands to revere the distant bell. ”So prettily you toll, but I've only ears for my lady's song. So sorry.”

Gossamyr struggled to maintain hold on Ulrich and yet keep Avenall in sight. The man's name! She must conjure his name to restore his memory of their alliance.

A skin-prinkling howl burst up from the ground. The revenant clawed its way out from the husk of the Disenchanted. Flesh tore and clung to the bones, one last attempt to keep the evil at bay. Muscle stretched and snapped. Armor bent and ripped. Finally the revenant was free.

She must stop it from returning to Faery. She must stop Ulrich from going to the Red Lady. She must rescue Avenall from the wicked thrall. She must- With no apparent intent to flee to Faery, this revenant turned and yowled at Gossamyr, revealing gnas.h.i.+ng fangs and whipping wings. The creature was twice her size and loud enouph to wake the dead.

”Ulrich!” Gossamyr yelled.

The man heard nothing but the Red Lady's call. He strode from the alley, oblivious to the danger that waited. What she would offer for a lost soul to wander across his path. ”Right now,” she muttered. ”Can you hear me, lost souls?”

”Watch you don't get your head ripped from your shoulders!” Avenall called in a macabre song. Orange and green faery lights blurred across the stone building facades, a shadow of Enchantment stealing across their sealed windows.

Dodging the revenant's lunge, Gossamyr raced toward Ulrich, then realized her mistake as she arrived on Ulrich's heels.

The revenant screeched and followed.

”Get yourself gone!” She shoved Ulrich and he collided with the wall.

A swing of her staff connected with the revenant's fist. Bone-clean fingers clamped about the applewood and jerked, winning the prize.

”I am off,” Ulrich muttered. ”My mistress calls.”

Gossamyr dodged the swing of her own staff, feeling the whoosh of air part the fur r.i.m.m.i.n.g her neck. Death missed. Had the weapon been full-length she might have received a blow directly to her skull. But it did hit another target.

Ulrich yelped as he received the blow intended for her against the side of his head. He went down like a felled tree.

The best thing she could do right now was to lead away the revenant. Bent at the waist, Gossamyr ran toward the square, luring the skeletal beast with her. No, you'll lead it toward people. Gossamyr stopped, jumping to turn and face the creature. Taking an arret in each hand she began to spin them.

The revenant hung before her in the sky, sunlight ripping through the slashed wings and glinting on the ichor-dripping muscle shreds clinging to the ribs. A shred of mail hung from one rib bone. It wielded her staff with such ease, transferring it from one hand to the other as if a mere toy. Not mindless then. It could remain if it so chose. And this creature sought some fight before returning to Faery.

Judging the best hit for her tiny obsidian blade would not be between a rib or on the tattered wing, Gossamyr thought to try the eyes. Nothing in the skull that she could determine, but it was worth a shot.

A death cry preceded the revenant's swinging attack. Gossamyr leaned back to avoid the hit. She swung, releasing the arret. It soared through the open jaws of the revenant and out into the sky. Blight!

If skulls could grin, the creature cracked a bitter smile at her. Swiftly it returned the staff, bringing Gossamyr down. The arret abandoned on the wet cobblestones, she rolled to her knees, clutching her gut. The staff had connected directly. But she hadn't time for pain, for the revenant attached to her back. Strength immeasurable pressed down on her spine. Bony fingers dug between her ribs.

The thing thought to rip her apart!

And it would. Rolling to the side, the revenant clattered upon the ground, bone against stone, but would not release Gossamyr. She managed to slip a hand around and grip bone. Her finger slid into-an eye socket. She felt the skin on her back tear. A cry of pain escaped but was swallowed by the revenant's manic screeches.

Slamming hard, Gossamyr heard the skull crack. Working another finger into the other eye socket, she held fast. Repeatedly she beat the skull against the cobbles. Each pound released the pressure on her back until she was free. She flipped her legs out from under the revenant. Using both hands, she made to pound the skull one forceful time but instead pulled the head off complete.

Amidst the terror, Gossamyr found herself kneeling on the ground, stunned to be holding the skull of a dead fee in her hand. The jaw opened and let out a yowl.

Gossamyr whipped the skull across the square.

It landed a stone wall and shattered into a glimmer of dust. Strange to think the sight pretty, but it was.

Now a skeletal hand groped her knee. Gossamyr stretched along the cobblestones and grabbed her staff. The tip of a finger popped through the silk skirt and opened her flesh. Smas.h.i.+ng the staff in a purely desperate move, she obliterated the offending arm and hand. The hips and legs were put to end with a fervent pounding. Faery dust rained upon her head and shoulders and legs.

Satisfied the beast was demolished, Gossamyr flung back her arms and lay upon the cobbles, heaving and panting. Dust coated her eyelids. Whimpers of pain punctuated her frantic breaths. Air wheezed from her lungs. Blood from her knee oozed down her leg and soaked her braies.

But successful, she thought. A smile was the only thing that did not hurt. One less revenant to torment Faery.

Avenall's face appeared above her. Insectile in his movements he looked over her. Streams of red-and-black hair tipped her aching muscles.

”Avenall,” she gasped.

”Impressive, mortal wench.”

”I am not...” Too exhausted to argue, she thought to expend her energy mentally. What be his name? He was of the tribe... Rogue. Torn. Not enough to invoke a reverse glamour, but certainly worth the effort. ”Avenall of...Rougethorn.”

But a single red eyebrow lifted. Considering? Remembering? Both brows narrowed to study. Gossamyr stared into the violet depths that, with a blink, were sluiced over by red.

”Rougethorn, she said, trying the word, but not saying it as he'd once said. A thoughtful tilt of his head was followed by an adamant shake. ”No. You shall not win the prize this night, pitiful one. Puppy must return to his mistress.”

With that he dashed off, leaving Gossamyr sprawled in the center of the street, her arms spread wide and her body coated with the revenant dust.

Darting out her tongue, she tasted Faery. And for the moment she reveled in the shroud of glamour that revisited her home.

I am coming home. I will become the champion.

TWENTY.

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