Part 38 (2/2)
”What is her complete name, s.h.i.+nn? 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 s.h.i.+eld 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, s.h.i.+nn s.h.i.+mmered 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. s.h.i.+nn'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 s.h.i.+nn's heart must have broken.
Had it ever healed? Or had Gossamyr's difficulties in adjusting to Faery, and her ultimate mutiny, ripped s.h.i.+nn'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 pa.s.sion.
Yes.
Gossamyr smiled at the voice inside her head. s.h.i.+nn'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.”
TWENTY-FOUR.
The s.h.i.+mmer 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 s.h.i.+mmied 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, r.i.m.m.i.n.g 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, s.h.i.+nn 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 fort.i.tude to remain standing.
”A strong mortal. You are not afraid?”
”You are...Gossamyr's father.”
The Faery lord tilted his head. Violet eyes touched Ulrich mere- his heart pulsed madly-just on the chest, before moving up and meeting him eye-to-eye. A vision of the Dance flashed in Ulrich's forethoughts and he spat out, ”They made me dance! For so long.”
s.h.i.+nn nodded, an understanding parent. ”You are the soul shepherd who accompanies my daughter.”
Huffing out a breath of the ages Ulrich felt, for the first time in over a week, a strange calm. ”I am. I didn't mean to step into Faery. It was merely an accident. I was not looking where I wandered. I meant thee no harm!”
”The Dance is long past.”
”Long past? It has been but a se'nnight! You stole so much from me!”
s.h.i.+nn inclined his head. The slight movement straightened Ulrich and he sucked in a breath. Settle. It is the past. Mustn't anger a being whom he had learned was quick to temper and even more vile when doling punishment.
”You carry the alicorn?”
Ulrich looked aside to the ground.
”I will not take it from you, mortal. It is yours to command. You must study your heart and decide whether or not your original intentions will bring certain improvement or sure failure.”
”I- Just want to see my daughter. One last time. And... I want Faery from my eyes.” He clutched the shape of the alicorn in the saddlebag. Did he smell flowers? The scent seemed to drift from the Faery lord himself. ”Gossamyr tells me to return the alicorn would seal the rift. If such an event occurs, she will not then be able to return to Faery-”
”You know far too much, mortal.”
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