Gossamyr

“You won’t lose me, Shinn. I vow it upon my fée essence.”

Gossamyr noted the twitch at the corner of her father’s mouth. Suppression always tightened his features. “This mission is deadly. Time cannot be tricked or defeated.”

A stab of her staff rang against the marble. “I am skilled.”

“A—” Shinn looked to the summer-pale sky “—champion is needed.”

A champion. “Oh.” Her bravado mellowed, Gossamyr bowed her head.

Indeed, a champion.

When had she ever proven herself in battle? Fighting dirt-casting core worms and drunken bogies? Night-creeping spriggans rarely offered more than a few moments’ struggle before scampering away from challenge. Werefrogs were vicious but stupid. Tournaments offered her but display of singular combat skills. There had not been opportunity for real challenge here in Glamoursiège. And she’d never been off the Spiral, not even a near fall from the Edge.

The touch of Shinn’s finger lifted Gossamyr’s gaze up to his. His eyes glittered. With tears? She had not thought to ever see the like. Certainly it was a mirage created by the sun and the glimmer of his blazon.

“Of course you do know champions are not simply ready and able?”

She lifted a brow.

“They are made. Truly, you are the only one for this mission, Gossamyr.” He bowed his head and clasped his fingers, the moue of his mouth frowning. But in a remarkable recovery he lifted a confident eye to Gossamyr. The former commander relayed battle details. “The Red Lady is malicious and is unlikely to rest until her penchant for feeding off fée essence restores her ability to return to Faery. She scents them out, newly arrived in the city, just as Disenchantment has begun to set in, for then the essence still retains its glamour.”

Gossamyr touched the faint blazon curling up her neck in a manner of twisting design. Would Disenchantment steal her blazon?

“But most important…” Another heavy sigh released what Gossamyr guessed to be regret and fear and the intense compulsion to protect his only child. “You are ready.”

A champion? Gossamyr straightened her shoulders and lifted her chin. Have at me.

Eagerness uncontained, she blurted, “How will I know the Red Lady? Is she…red?”

Shinn’s smirk teased at a genuine smile. “You will know her when you see her. Banished long ago, she bears the mark.”

The mark. Yes. Horrid memories flooded Gossamyr’s mind. She had witnessed a banishment. The curl of red pinpricks boring into flesh. A cri de terroir. The suddenness of expulsion. And her bruised heart.

“You have seen the mark,” Shinn had the audacity to remark.

A nod confirmed Gossamyr’s understanding. Bile stirred in her throat. “Speak no more on it; I will know it when I see it.”

Swallowing back memory, Gossamyr sorted the facts. A succubus fée. Red. Banished. An unmistakable mark. Paris. Her father never elaborated beyond the necessary information.

“How long ago was she banished?”

“Before your birth.”

“Ah.” And yet, only now the succubus had begun to havoc the Otherside? Hmm…

“Mortal time is different than in Faery,” Shinn commented. “You will find it faster, startling. But most important, you know much about the Otherside; that will serve well.”

“I have gleaned what I can while studying Mother’s Bestiary of Humans—” Gossamyr stopped. Shinn did not appear startled by her confession. She had ever used stealth to steal into the locked study to snoop, much to the horror of her maid, Mince.

Veridienne had been detailing the mortals, magnifying them on amphi-vellum in the most remarkable detail, diagramming their manner and social ways from memory—re-creating her natural history. Gossamyr pored over the articles any chance she could find. The drawings were marvelously rendered in gild and such pigments created from madder, azurite and verdigris. Text gave splendid descriptions of clothing, food and custom.

I know you are half-mortal, Gossamyr. Your brown eyes intrigue. You are exotic…

Shucking off the cloying memory of a Rougethorn’s enraptured voice, Gossamyr looked to her father. He studied her, his jaw tight. Ever visible, the hurt in Shinn’s eyes.

“I wanted to touch a part of her,” Gossamyr offered in a quiet voice. “It was difficult trying to get close to her. She was ever busy.”

“Veridienne loved you, Gossamyr. The mortal passion led her astray. Nothing more. You two are devastatingly alike, so…passionate about life. Rebellion runs like ichor through your veins.”

Ichor? Not in this half-blood’s veins, she thought wistfully.

Gossamyr felt her father’s sadness ran far deeper than he would ever show. Had Veridienne’s departure been rebellion? To journey to the Otherside had always been her dream, but a dream tainted by the reality of her mother’s absence.

“I have been nothing but clear regarding your never Passaging to the Otherside.”

A shiver prinkled up Gossamyr’s spine. Would he yet deny her this mission? Forbid her from yet another enticing fragment of life? Champions were made, not hired! And such an experience for the future lady of Glamoursiège! There was yet opportunity…

She scuffed her palms across her leather braies and scanned the gloss shimmering in her father’s violet eyes.

“It is dangerous. We both know that.” Shinn’s breaths settled in the air between them, heavy with something akin to dread. “But the time has come to release you from a father’s protective obsession.”

Apprehension tightened Gossamyr’s limbs so she stood boldly erect.

“Yes, you see, even I have my obsession. I cannot protect you once you leave Faery.”

She needn’t protection. With staff in hand and a keen eye for danger, Gossamyr invited the experience.

“Just remember,” he said. “Always Believe—”

“And I will Belong. I know, Shinn. Worry not, I will never lose mind of my home. Will there be revenants on the Otherside?”

“No, they flee to Faery as quickly as the essence is stolen.”

“Which is why you must remain here.”

“Indeed. A fée can only travel to the Otherside on so many occasions before Time masters his body. I have journeyed there many a time. Would that I could accompany you.”

“You mustn’t risk it.”

“I will muster my troops and prepare for a sure battle. I sense their numbers will only increase as the Red Lady remains unstopped. I have been witness only to those who return to Glamoursiège. I expect other Faery tribes have been attacked, as well.”

“These revenants, what happens when one does manage to obtain an essence?”

“That would leave an innocent fée dead, and the revenant would have its final twinclian.”

“Would not the innocent become revenant?”

Shinn nodded. “You understand this vicious cycle could cripple Faery.”