Part 42 (1/2)
Torture? Where was the danger-loving Faery Not when he needed her?
An icy blackness ignited to a dull glow as the alicorn was touched to an iron torch on the marble wall.
”Shall I chain him to the wall?”
”I don't think it necessary.” Two glossy red eyes peered at Ulrich, the alicorn drawing a line below her pouting lips. To but see a part of her face, from cheek to cheek and eyebrow to lower lip, distressed him. ”He's weak. Nor will he run without trying to retrieve his prize, yes?”
Yes, he'd run without the prize. The loss of his wish seemed ultimately more tolerable when compared to the evils this nasty half-faced b.i.t.c.h could work upon him. Ulrich had seen the wall of pinned essences. Souls of faeries the succubus had sucked to a slow and painful death. Could she do the same to him? Steal his soul and pin it to the wall? And then, would one of those skeleton creatures emerge to battle Gossamyr?
A dead soul shepherd would not then be able to retrieve his lost daughter.
”My kitten will be a good little boy.”
The woman's touch felt like ice. No longer did the soft, susurrating tingle of the divine attract him. Nor could he smell the myrrh that had filled the halls of this lair; naught but terror filled his nostrils with a sharp cloying odor.
He saw the tip of fingers coated with the glimmer from his eye swipe across the air to reveal her neck and the serrated curves of her bosom.
”Methinks you should not play with kittens,” the man he could not see said as he dropped Ulrich's feet and legs. ”They have nasty claws that will tear my mistress's dress and make her bleed.”
”Oh, Puppy. Come to me.”
”Not when you've that horn in hand. It hurts.”
”I'll not let this prize from my sight, so you'll have to learn to live without my touch. Leave him. s.h.i.+nn's daughter will seek him, I am sure of that.”
”I mean nothing to Gossamyr,” Ulrich managed.
”So she is s.h.i.+nn's daughter?”
Hades, he shouldn't have said anything. Ulrich choked back risk of exposing further knowledge.
”Your silence speaks volumes.”
For once he prayed for a rogue spirit seeking direction to float on by. Could he use it as a weapon and send it through the succubus's being?
The fire burn of the alicorn tingled along Ulrich's brow as the Red Lady drew it slowly over his face. ”To what purpose do you serve s.h.i.+nn's false daughter, hmm? You are completely mortal, this I know from your plain scent and unremarkable appearance.”
Summoning the few remaining threads of courage, Ulrich worked up his saliva and spat. Direct hit above and between the Red Lady's b.r.e.a.s.t.s. The globule landed a part of her flesh he could not see, so it appeared to float.
”Wrong answer.” She summoned the minion who lurked in the shadows with but a flick of her fingers. Footsteps shuffled over. Ulrich saw the tips of black hair revealed as they wiped her b.r.e.a.s.t.s clean of spittle. ”I see we shall have to restrain the miserable mortal. But I don't want to take away his soul, not yet. So...just a little kiss.”
Ulrich struggled as she leaned over him, but the melody whispering from her mouth captured his mind in a vise hold and quickly becalmed him to a ragged ma.s.s of muscle and bone. Unable to move, he moaned as cold lips pressed upon his and summoned the pa.s.sion in his groin.
Oh, but it was so sweet, her kiss. Take me, drink me, suck out my soul...
TWENTY-SEVEN.
”I know it is this way.” Gossamyr strode ahead of Dominique and Tor. ”East from the edge of the city. I remember the spire of that great cathedral was in view.”
”This man who has been accompanying you,” Dominique called from behind. ”What were the reasons the two of you joined forces?”
Inexplicably compelled, she looked at her palm, the lines deepened with memory. He'd danced the mortal pa.s.sion into her soul. Love? ”We were destined to come together. Though I cannot be sure my father did not place him in my path. Ulrich is a good man.”
”As a mortal he will be safe from the succubus's evil?”
”Not sure. The man who serves at her right hand is fee-and she holds him in an erie. His essence is pinned to her wall.”
”And that is a faery soul, as you have explained. Incredible. You teach me much in so little time.”
Time. The unrelenting enemy.
Gossamyr stopped, stretching out a hand to give the others silent orders. Tor's hooves clopped to a halt behind her and the hemat.i.te stones on Dominique's cape ceased clacking. The caw of a crow, unseen, but close, made her tilt her head to the side. The air smelled clean, strangely so. They were far from the marketplace, but close, the calls of river men, as their skiffs sluiced silently through the dreadsome dark waters.
The warm huff of air at the back of Gossamyr's neck danced through her system, invigorating and smelling of summer mead buzzing with honey-dripping humble bees. She reached back. Tor pressed his nose into her palm. Hot suede. Huff of misty breath.
She and Dominique exchanged glances.
”He trusts you,” the changeling offered.
”If that be so then I beg the unicorn remain far from the Red Lady's lair. If she has Ulrich, no doubt she holds the alicorn.”
Dominique shrugged and smoothed a hand over Tor's braided mane. In response, the unicorn stomped the ground twice with its foreleg and dropped into a regal bow, nose to the cobbles and fettered forelegs bent.
Fearful of such deference from the sacred beast, Gossamyr managed a bow and gestured the beast rise. But Tor did not. ”What is he doing?”
”He will yield to your request. Many years Tor has searched for the alicorn.”
”Time be tricksy.”
”He knows it is close, but is aware of the risk. Evil cannot be calmed when such power lies at hand. Do not lead us astray.”
”I will not. I have seen and touched it. I will bring it back to you...er, Tor. I pledge my honor to you.”
The beast rose and reared up grandly upon its hind legs, stretching twice the height of Gossamyr. It then turned and cantered off down the street.
”He will remain close but unseen,” Dominique said as he gestured they continue. ”Are we near to her lair?”
”Too close.” Gossamyr walked up to the iron gate surrounding the humble manor. Four guttered candles lit the sh.e.l.l path to the stables. And there, at the edge of the stable lay a puddle of darkness. Gossamyr rushed across the path, her bare feet making little noise, and plunged to the fabric that resembled a slick of mud. It smelled earthy. ”Ulrich's cloak. She has him.”
”I...can feel her.”
Gossamyr spun around to spy the changeling standing in the center of the sh.e.l.l path. The dark cloak listed on the wind, skillfully disguising wings. His eyes closed, he pressed forth a palm to caress the air before him, feeling, scenting- ”No!” Gossamyr shoved Dominique out from the succubus's erie. ”She is calling to you. Do not listen. Don't-blight, perhaps you should remain out here.”