"Of course I do. I am Gossamyr from Glamoursiege."

"Merely a t.i.tle. You quest, fair lady. But not for blood. You seek. We all seek."

"There isn't a thing to be sought." And do not go on about my lack of emotion, she thought. She wasn't prepared to descend into strange territory this day; she must focus on finding the succubus.

From a tiny piece of twisted leather Ulrich dumped some fine shavings into the bowl of herbs. Had he intention to- "You cannot!" Gossamyr slapped a hand over the bowl of glimmering shards. "It is sacrilege."

"Gossamyr, it is blasphemy merely to stand atop this cathedral and perform magic. On the other hand, magic and the church have a secret liaison far stronger than any Inquest will allow you to believe."

Cringing away from him, Gossamyr clung to the stone bal.u.s.trade. Magic! A fee who partic.i.p.ated in the deed partic.i.p.ated in the destruction of the very Enchantment that was their life.

"You know magic harms Faery?" she whispered. The soul shepherd did not regard her as he continued to sort through the items. The black cloth was tilted over the mortar to sift the particles of alicorn into the mortar. "No!"

She leaped to slam her hands over the mortar.

Ulrich gripped the bowl and met her defiance with a leer of his own. "Now come, I cannot press it back onto the alicorn and hope it sticks."

"It is forbidden for a fee to dabble in magic."

"That is well and fine, for I am no faery. Let go! You needn't watch if that is what troubles you. Do you not want to find your Red Lady? Just a little magic to locate the succubus who threatens all of Faery?"

She relented and sat back on her haunches. Clamping her palms to each opposite elbow, she remained stiff. Surely it would be fine to tap a bit of Enchantment so the entire realm of Faery might be saved?

Would that she had stopped him before such destruction. He'd shaved the bits from the alicorn at his uncle's house; likely when she had been pa.s.sed out-er, sleeping.

Always the Rougethorn tribe had been tolerated, but Shinn had never chosen to join troops for a tournament. Tainted, they were, for their dabbling. Yet, Avenall had been just like any other fee who had lived in Glamoursiege.

Ulrich ignored her, whistling quietly as he went about his magic. He was but one single man, and he had claimed to merely know a bit of magic. He be not a wizard or mage.

Gossamyr's curiosity got the better of her. She broke her stiff pose. "This spell will track the Red Lady directly to her lair?"

As he began to pulverize the mixture to a fine powder, Ulrich nodded. "I shall perform a discovery spell. It will track and mark any with Faery ichor in the city."

"What if there are more than the one?"

He shrugged. "Are not all Disenchanted?"

"Yes, but their ichor remains Faery."

"Your Red Lady is Enchanted bethanks to those stolen essences?"

"I believe so."

"Then she should shine brightest. Should at least give us clue where to begin the search. Darkness would have served far better to sight the charm, but clouds mar the sun this day. Trust me, Gossamyr." He touched the hem of her sleeve. In his eyes danced a trust that overruled the illicit touch. "I will help you locate this red lady."

She moved forward, bending, and brought her face directly before his- close enough for Faery. "And in return you expect me to lead you to the unicorn?"

"Sounds a fair trade."

"What if I refuse?"

Ulrich sighed and leaned back against the curved stone wall of the tower. "Then I wager I am on my own. But you may yet favor a guide."

"You are no more familiar with Paris than I, soul shepherd."

"Think you? You do not know the truth of me, faery princess."

With that curious comment, he unwrapped a length of dark twisted plant leaves. Cranesbill, Gossamyr guessed, for the pungent odor. A charm for the eye.

You commit a foul sin against your own!

But could it be so wrong if it ultimately served to save Faery from a dire fate?

"I do this for Faery, and Faery is my home," she whispered, "so I do this for myself. Selfish..."

"Yes, yes. But what makes Gossamyr of Glamoursiege happy? Do you even know?"

"A silent soul shepherd, 'tis what gives me happiness."

"Sorry, can't help you there."

"Can you be quick about it?" She scanned the sky, her sight fell on the fetch. "Shoo!" She flapped her hands, but the fetch remained.

"Your father watching?"

"He once banished a man from Faery simply because he was a Rougethorn. Rougethorns dabble in magic."

"I see. And so, your father will see you dabbling? Through the fetch?"

With one eye to the keenly perched fetch, Gossamyr vacillated for but a moment. "It is what must be done."

"I like you, Faery Not. Have I mentioned that? You're bold. And you sparkle. Now." Ulrich stood and handed Gossamyr the mortar. 'Twas heavy and cool in her palms like a river stone dredged up from the muddy depths. Inside, a fine dark powder glimmered much like the fee's natural blazon. "If you'll hold this while I summon the elements?"

"You can do this?"

"Have faith in me, fair lady." A glance to the fetch narrowed Ulrich 's eyes. "Shinn, do not fault your daughter for this magic. It is a necessary device to locate your villainess." He tipped a wink to the fetch.

With a tilt of his head and a shrug of his shoulders, Ulrich began a strange ritual. 'Twas as if he were shaking and loosening every limb in his body.

Gossamyr watched with a mixture of doubt, mirth and interest as the soul shepherd went into a remarkable concoction of gyrations accompanied by strange humming. He spread his legs and shook out his arms and shoulders, the movement traveling to his head as he rotated and worked it upon his neck. Finally he snapped to a position and hummed. "Hmm... Hmm, hmm, hmmm."

Never had she witnessed such display. Once a wizard-a pract.i.tioner of magic-had infiltrated Faery and had been given the guest treatment by her father. She wondered if the old wizard still danced the endless dance. 'Twas very possible. The mortal had no right to enter Faery unannounced; that punishment had been fitting.

A funny noise brought Gossamyr's attention back to Ulrich. He blew air through his mouth, vibrating his lips. Just what were the requirements for magic?

Eyes closed, Ulrich then clapped together his palms. His arms splayed back behind him, he gave a jump and a spin to face her. Arching his back, he opened himself to the air. Spreading his arms wide out to his sides, he beckoned the elements and began the low hum in his throat.

"Spread far, dance wide, become my eyes." With a decisive nod, Ulrich silently took the mortar from Gossamyr and held it high above his head. "Track the faery souls-"

"Essences!" Gossamyr interrupted.

"Er...essences hidden in the shadows. Sift through the masks of the common and illuminate that we wish to see. So mote it be!"

The mixture inside the mortar fluttered upward, spiraling into a glittering swirl. Tiny stars fallen from the heavens, Gossamyr mused, seeking to claim their original position. A gust of warm summer air dispersed the spell. She dashed to the bal.u.s.trade and stretched out her arms. The particles danced and swooped and began to descend over the city.

"It is working," Ulrich whispered.

"You are surprised?"

"Yes!"

Unaware of how close the man stood, Gossamyr jerked her attention from the bespelled particles and looked upon Ulrich's face. Awestruck, he watched his spell take shape. Slack, his open mouth revealed the gap in the upper row of brilliant white teeth. Not a single line of age traced his flesh. Very near to her age? Not with a daughter grown and gone. And yet, he had not lived those stolen years. Mayhap they two were peers?

She touched his chin, fine stubble wobbled under her finger pads. Startled, he turned to her, and Gossamyr repressed a sigh. There in the centers of his dark pupils glimmered a spotlight, the origin of the bespelled particles. Exotic. She tilted her head, meeting Ulrich's mouth with her lips.

Softly she accepted his kiss. Like fire sparkles to her being, the connection quickened through her. Prinkles of energy snapped all along her extremities. Buried desires emerged. She felt want, a pining, seductive want.

This mortal pa.s.sion, it was sweet. So...natural. Easy to fall into.

Quickly, Gossamyr pulled back. The fetch was nowhere to be seen. Still lingering in the throes of pa.s.sion, a smile could not be suppressed. A second brief but sweet kiss followed close behind.

"So mote it be?" Ulrich said with a charming grin twinkling in his eyes.

"I..." Startled at her brazenness, Gossamyr turned away, locking her arms over the bal.u.s.trade. Still the smile would not leave her lips. In fact, a silly grin formed and she could but shake her head. "Forgive me, that was most uncalled for."

"Never."

"Ulrich! You are a married man."

"Whose wife has taken another man and chased me away with a huge, hurting stone."

Gossamyr reminded herself: The mortal was without ties. A giddiness filled her. Joy, such as discovering a secret hiding place. Yes, that be mine! I claim it.

He belongs to no one else.

She could secretly claim any man she wished. Yet she had been spoken for.

A kiss, one perfect kiss. 'Tis bone. Just...enjoy the feeling.

Indeed. Releasing a truly spontaneous smile upon Ulrich, Gossamyr said, "I liked that."

"Kissing has been known to bring great delight."

"But we must not do it again."

"Think you?" He leaned against the bal.u.s.trade, casually crossing his ankles. "Saving yourself for a handsome faery man who will sweep you off your feet-literally?"

"No. " Yes. The wedding had been arranged. Be the groom willing or otherwise. Face your truths! "Yes."

"What if you cannot return-" Ulrich tilted a look outward, scanning the city scape. "Dragon p.i.s.s!"

"What?" Gossamyr followed Ulrich's line of vision. Thin rays of sunlight bursting through the clouds painted the red-roof tiles a brilliant orange. Shadows stretched long behind jutting towers and chimneys. Everywhere sparkled the alicorn dust. Surely, hundreds of lights, like a midnight skyscape fallen to earth. "There are so many."

"The city is verily infested with those from Faery."

"We'll never find her now."

"Mayhap we can." Ulrich pointed toward the palace plopped at the end of the island. "Do you notice some lights are brighter than others? Only few really stand out."

"The weak ones must be the Disenchanted."

"I thought all fee in the city were Disenchanted?"

"Or very near. Perhaps the brighter are the strongest and newer fee. Disenchantment requires a few days. And if she is stealing the essence of the fee she must possess Enchantment untold. We must seek the brightest -"

"That one over there, near the Conciergerie."

"Where?" She knew not the city, nor the buildings, and followed Ulrich's directions as he pointed out next to the palace the Conciergerie-a jail, as he explained-then, across the bridge from another large cathedral, the wide-open square of the Place de Greve.

"Or there!" She pointed to a particular light twinkling brightly at the edge of the city.

"Doubtful." Ulrich sighed and settled his chin in palm. "'Tis the castle of St. Antoine-the Bastille. Another prison. I wager your b.l.o.o.d.y succubus has not hidden herself away there."

Gossamyr tried to determine where Ulrich looked now, but it seemed he stretched his gaze along her cap-a-pie. "What be to you?"

"Hmm? Oh. Er, n'importe."

Avoiding the question. So unlike the man.

"Can you see my light?"

"Oh?"

Gossamyr looked over her body and all around and above her head. Stretching out an arm, she slid her palm over the soft yellow gown, hoping to see a glint from the spell. A frantic wave of her arm proved fruitless. The sudden disappearance of the sun behind a cloud shadowed her body. Not a glow, not a glimmer.

"I have not been marked, have I?"

"Well..."

"I am...unremarkable? Tell me true." She needed to know! This man was the only one she trusted.

"It is likely the Disenchantment. Mustn't worry, Faery N-er, my lady."

She nodded, and yet knew she had not been marked. That Ulrich would not tell her troubled. Why did he seek to protect her, and from what? The emotions he so relentlessly strove to dig up from her depths?

"I'm sorry, Gossamyr. I thought the spell would be successful."

"It has been." She squeezed his shoulder. "It worked too well. Let's begin with those sights close by."