Fear dried her throat. Horror stilled her heart. Not a faery. It cannot be!
Are you ready? the lady whispered so loudly Gossamyr heard it as a scream.
My sister Ulrich started.
I am! Gossamyr declared.
With little fanfare the tapestry curtain was drawn back and flipped over the corner of the cage. The contents were not initially visible, for a sheer curtain that glimmered like faery dust hung from top to the floor of the cage. The rear lanterns, while boldly kissing the womans cruel grimace, barely lit the fore of the cage.
Steel glinted and one of the men poked his sword through the curtain and bars. A cry of pain pierced Gossamyrs breast. A female voice. Something within the cage shuffled into the torch glow. A frail, thin figureindeed, a woman, clad in tattered brown cloth. And there!
Gossamyr let out a cry.
Quite remarkable, yes?
Gossamyr swung a look to the heartless woman peering out from the rear window. She kept a faery chained inside this foul cage!
Gripping the wood poles, Gossamyr scanned the poor creature. Bones were visible through her pale flesh. Arms clasped about her legs, the creature shivered. Not a creature, but your own kind! She would not meet Gossamyrs eyes. Just as well. Sure Ulrichs cloak concealed her blazon, Gossamyr could not know if another fée would recognize her. The cage floor was littered with crushed hay and the glimmer of faery dust. One wing swept a lazy trail across the poles Gossamyr held. The wing was limp, colorless, and a tear rent through the upper section. Unable to divine a scent, beyond the rotting straw, Gossamyr swallowed. Lifeless, or almost so.
I usually charge admission to look upon my pretty faery, the lady announced. But I wont ask one so troubled to sacrifice.
Troubled? Gossamyr swung around. Ulrichs arm barred her from approaching the rear of the carriage. The only troubled one I can see is you, my lady! How dare you? She is not yours to own or display or to destroy!
Gossamyr, Ulrich cautioned.
Your name is Gossamyr? The ladys fox teeth parted and her tongue ran along them. Unusual. Not a French name. Will you turn about for me?
I will not move another footstep until you release this poor creature!
The clomps of heavy hooves rounded behind Gossamyr and Ulrich. The caravan leader marched his horse warningly close. Sword drawn and eyes keen to her, with a flick of his weapon he bid her turn.
We thank you for revealing your prize, my lady. Ulrich tugged Gossamyrs shoulder. Best we leave you to your path.
You cannot own this faery, Gossamyr hissed, nor treat it as a beast!
I cannot see, the woman directed the man on the horse. Her cape must be lifted.
Caught up in Ulrichs arms, Gossamyr struggled against his firm grip. She swung out her staff, clipping the shoulder armor of one of the men. Forced backward by a line of drawn swords, she held her staff to the ready.
Let us pass, my lady, Ulrich called. It is the moonlight; she is so troubled.
Indeed.
Gossamyr clenched her teeth. Ulrich tugged her backward, away from the carriage. She followed, but held a hard eye to any who would challenge her. Indeed, she knew it foolish to have reacted so, but in that moment her heart had led her.
The armored men, forming a shield before the carriage and cart stood with weapons aimed for Gossamyrs retreat. Ulrich turned and, dragging her along by the clutched ends of the cloak, began to jog across the grasses.
Release me! She kicked at him and managed to free herself.
He landed her body, a foot to her shoulder and bent over her face. Cease! he hissed. You wish to lose your head?
Twenty paces away the caravan began to move.
She has no right, Gossamyr growled. Unmoving, she found she had no desire to leap up and run attack upon the carriage. For much as she wanted to believe she could win any challenge, the threat of so many mortal weapons becalmed her bravado. The fée are not animals. Did you see her? She was close to death. Her wingsoh
Stand up. With Ulrichs offer, Gossamyr clasped his hand and stood. I know naught what you are about, my lady. But I can wager a guess.
She lifted a defiant chin. In the darkness it was difficult to determine whether he jested or spoke a challenge.
We shall be off, without further mention
She jerked from his touch.
Beneath the wool cloak, she felt the hem of her pourpoint fall away from her waist. Oh! She clutched the fabric, hearing the dried leaves crumble.
You are falling apart at the seams, he said. Tough bit of luck.
Blight! Her father had not been jesting when hed said the Disenchantment takes quickly.
Apprehensions brewing, Gossamyr eyed the caravan that wobbled off down the road. Oh, but she had looked upon Disenchantment. Pale and shivering and in chains. Let it not be so cruel to her!
A testing bend of knee determined her leathers still held. The tough material should hold. But who knew what the Disenchantment could do? Had Shinn known she would literally lose the clothing from her body?
Gossamyr jerked as Ulrich moved aside the cloak to look her over. The sweeping movement of the wool ripped the back of her pourpoint. Quickly, she pressed a hand to her chest.
A low whistle punctuated his astonishment. Ulrich tugged the cloak tightly over her groping arms and secured the perimeter with a scanning eye, though the night could not allow him distance. You need proper attire, fair lady. Most urgently.
There may be a seamstress in the next village.
You heard the knight; Armagnacs have entered Aparjon. We will do well to pass around the city.
But
You are too quick to fight, my lady. I will not risk my neck standing aside you as we enter an embattled city.
He removed the saddlebag from his shoulder and carefully placed it across the mules flanks. We must make haste. I would let you ride behind me.
Behind you? She had never shared a mount with anyone. Why, there was barely room on the beast for Ulrichs long limbs and overstuffed saddlebag and the crossbow. Impossible.
You are a bit of a spoiled one, eh?
What?
He turned, one arm propped at his waist, the other hand tapping impatiently upon Fancys back. I said, you are spoiled.
You think Ive gone bad? Do Ido I smell? She attempted to scent her immediate air but only smelled the coolness of the night and a faint tang, which she attributed to Fancy.
Spoiled, as in rotten. Everyone jumps to your whim. The princess demands her pleasures. Whatever you should ask is given.
What be wrong with that? She stabbed her staff into the ground.
They both looked to the ground to spy the clump of dry hornbeam fluttering out from beneath the cloak. Flakes of the enchanted, disarrayed and damaged.
What is it I have heard about Faery finery and coin? Ulrich pressed a wondering finger to his chin. Glee sparkled in his eyes, Gossamyr sensed, for it was dark save for the carriage lanterns bobbing down the road. Private as it should have been, he enjoyed her humiliation immensely. It disperses to dust once introduced to the mortal realm. He toed the flakes of her decimated pourpoint. They disintegrated to a glitter of dust.
Gossamyr nodded. Very well. Be there another village close?
Gossamyr nodded. Very well. Be there another village close?
Pray there is. Now mount behind me. I promise I shall not attempt to befriend you along the way.
Splendid.
Though I wager it shall be difficult to ignore a naked rider clinging to my waist.
I am not naked.
Steal not my hope, my lady.
The sky thinned and receded. A flutter of his wings proved ponderous. Never before had he felt as though the world mightslip away. That his footsteps would not take hold on a path simply not there. Twas as if he were falling through the roots.
Images from the fetch proved Gossamyr had successfully arrived in the Otherside. She had even found a companion for the road. Shinn was not overconcerned a mortal traveled at her side; the man would prove a boon. As well, Gossamyr had easily managed the attacking bogie. He would have expected nothing less. The vision of the caged fée had disturbed him perhaps more deeply than it had affected his daughter. She was strong. Capable. Not a single reason for any mortal to cage her.
And yet with every breath, Shinn felt the shiver that had become his bane more deeply. Mortal touched. The result? His mortal passion. A sweet punishment. And so much he had reaped from that risk. Greatest of all, his child.
Gossamyr was gone from him. Gone. Child of mine.
Should he have told her more? Revealed
He justhe wanted her to return to him. But Gossamyrs truth would prevent that. She must never learn her truth. For if she continued to Believe she would Belong.
Clutching the curved crystal doorpull that opened into Gossamyrs bedchamber, Shinn stood for a breath, blinking, struggling to find hold. The spice roses Mince cut daily for her room seeped into him, cloying and powerful. Gossamyrs scent.
He had set his only daughter off on a dangerous mission. It had been the right choice.
There had been no real choice. Shinn had known for some time Gossamyr would be called to the Otherside. The mortal passion was ever persistent. He could not interfere. Would Gossamyr sacrifice to remain on the Otherside? Would she wish to do so?
It is the bargain we made, Veridienne. For your home, you must sacrifice.
I sacrificed my home for you, Shinn! To love you.
I acknowledge that, but to have it back, you must
Very well. I will do it. I willleave her.
Oh! At Shinns sigh Mince popped her head up from the floor by the bed. Lord Wintershinn. She tugged at her tight blue gown, pulling it snugly over two gentle rolls on her stomach. Her small wings fluttered madly as she backed away. Eyes not meeting his, the rumpled fée backed right into the armoire and bent a wing.
Is there something amiss, Mince? Shinn strode by the bed. His fingertips grazed the cold, precise marble and danced through the hanging bed curtains. Nothing out of ordinary. He walked to the window where the long arachnagoss sheers fluttered on the breeze. He turned abruptly, catching Mince in the act of shutting the armoireon a finger. Are you looking for something?
Looking? Me? The syllables shook more rapidly than her telltale wings. Why ask you that, my lord? Oh, no, justtidying up a bit. What of you? Youre not looking for Gossamyr?
Nay.
Marvelous. Oh! Er, fine. Just fine.
Now he understood. Mince sought Gossamyr.
Im out to the yard.
What for?
Oh? To checkfor something. Erm, the peacocks must be shooed from the roses.
She is gone, Mince.
She? The matron paused by the door, turning to him with delicate fingers curled into one another. Who, Lord Wintershinn?
Gossamyr has gone to the Otherside.
No, II just saw her. Im sure shes here somewhere, swinging from the rootsIll start there, my lord. She never disappears for overlong.
I sent her.
Mince gaped, seeming to momentarily choke on her own breath. W-why? How? she breathed. Did youtell her everything?
She seeks the Red Lady. I sent her through a Passage. You know her truth will keep her from returning to me.
Oh! But she needs to know! Youve sent her to face the very womanOh, dear.
SIX
Forgoing the village of Aparjon for what Ulrich claimed to be another not three leagues to the east, the duo plodded through unmarked grasses and followed a low rabbit-ravaged hedgerow for some distance until a narrower, lesser traveled road attracted them. There were no trees as far as she could see. The world was very silent. Eerily so.
Ulrich called ahead to Gossamyr. We should seek shelter for the night, tis nearing matins.
You dont think well make the village?
Likely not.
Sensing the mans exhaustion, Gossamyr conceded. Very well.
Tugging Ulrichs cloak about her shoulders seemed to hold the crumbling pourpoint together. She hoped. She had dismounted earlier and now walked, finding the exercise more fitting than joggling along on the miserable old mule. She sensed the beast tread alongside the Infernal, and did not wish to put more of a burden on it than necessary.
The fetch preceded her at a clever distance. She had ever thought fetches only recorded noteworthy events. Mayhap Shinn missed her as much as she was beginning to miss him? To have the fetch follow her at all times?
Miss her father? It had been but part of a day.
The only thing she missed right now was the illumination of Faery. This mortal night clung to Gossamyr on all sides. Crickets chirped and unseen rodents scampered along the grassy borders of the rutted path. She could not see Ulrich for the gloom, but judged him less than twenty paces behind her.
His suggestion to stop was not entirely unwarranted. She did feel the strain of her journey tug at the muscles in her calves and shoulders. Yet the struggle to stride freely while keeping the cloak wrappedblight!
Gossamyr dropped the ends of the cloak and let the sweeping fabric dangle. If her garments were to fall off, then so shall it be. For she wanted to skip, to revel in this atmosphere that welcomed like a warm embrace.
Oh, Hades, be gone.
Gossamyr smirked at Ulrichs hissed remark. The man had babbled most of the way. He had a strange compulsion to compare things, or rather label them as either the same or not the same. She could not figure what he was about. But she had to confess, having a companion eased a bit of her growing discomfort. Alone in a new land. Physically capable, buther thoughts had begun to return to a place of safety.
She missed Mince. The matron was ever there, a companion, a confidante. A willing foil when Shinn would question Gossamyrs day, and she had snuck off to tournament. And always there to bring her whatever she may request, to know before Gossamyr spoke her need.
Spoiled? Never before had she heard that term to describe one who is given all she needs. Such as a lady who travels with a cagedfaery in tow?
Hmmnot like that. Nor did she smell.
An eerie feeling of disquiet shimmied about Gossamyrs body. It wasnt as though she were frightened by the darkness. Nor could she summon worry for any beastie that might leap out from the shadows at her. In truth, a tiny niggling at encountering further outcasts from the Netherdred did bother. Unfamiliar, this world. And yet, intriguing. Horizontal and stretching for leagues that fell off the horizon as if the Edge. Mayhap it was an edge? Veridienne had detailed the stretch of France in her bestiary. It was edged by a vast oceantribe Mer-de-Soleil territory; merfolk and selkies and kelpies abounded there. But she had no measurement for distance in this land. Unless it was down. So she must rely on Ulrichs navigation.