Ulrich and Shinn, they two were alike.

"It gives him hope. A purpose."

"Mortals have always aspired to purpose. As have you, Gossamyr. I had only thought to give you that purpose. But this alicorn. . .you must not return it."

"What?"

Wind sifted Shinn's gray hair across his staunch jaw. Not the same. How many of her father's moons had been stolen from her with his Pa.s.sage to the Otherside?

"Gossamyr, as it stands now, I can bring you back to Faery. As my daughter, whether blooded or not, you belong in Faery."

"But I will age?"

"I can return your glamour, though it will not be fixed by Enchantment. There...is the marriage to consider."

"Of course." The two tribes must unite. As well, Glamour-siege must eventually receive an heir to the throne. "How selfish of me-"

"Gossamyr."

She pushed out from Shinn's wing embrace and strode toward the stream. Another reason her father did not want her to leave his side-the business of securing the Glamoursiege reign-yet he would never put that into the air.

"Why should I return to marry and to rule a land not my own?"

"Because Glamoursiege is your home!"

"Oh?"

"It is the only home you have ever known."

"But you schemed to place Desideriel at my side. It is imperative I marry a full-blood fee. Does Desideriel know? That I am but a mortal changeling?"

"Gossamyr-"

"Tell me!"

"He does not. He believes you half-blooded. And should evermore."

"More lies! When will the truth ever be safe? Yet my return will see my swift decline. How soon before the aging reduces me to but bone? You ask me to sacrifice for the good of Faery."

"I should not ask so much of one I love."

"Faeries know not how to love," Gossamyr spat.

"Why can you not believe a man is capable of loving someone, of caring for and raising a child not of his flesh?"

"Because..."

Ulrich's situation flashed before her. The man quested to bring his daughter back to him. A child whom he did not know to be his or another man's.

Never had she felt Shinn was being false with her. His cruelties never weakened his kindnesses. He could speak the truth. She wanted him to speak the truth. Why now should he lie?

"Very well. I...accept that you love me. And that Veridienne loved me. But what has my return to do with the alicorn?"

"If you heal the rift, you close the means for your return. I will be forever sealed off from you."

And the marriage would not take place.

"But the fee can always Pa.s.sage to the Otherside. You could...visit me, as you do now, without risking Disenchantment."

"My next visit may be my last." He stroked away a strand of hair from his face. Had the wrinkles deepened? He was aging before her eyes.

"You ask me to keep the rift open, to allow the revenants' continued return?"

"Your defeat of the Red Lady will stop them." He bowed his head, clenching his fists near his face. "I don't want to lose you, Gossamyr."

"But Faery-it will suffer for-"

"For my selfish desires."

For a father's love. For a marriage that would crown Shinn's successor. Both n.o.ble desires. And since when did she ever believe that she could choose a life of her own making? The truth should not change any of that.

"Shinn, I don't know what to do."

"You know my wishes. You know the fate of Glamoursiege lies in your hands. But I will not keep you from doing what you feel is right. You are truly a champion. Valor has always been yours."

"Valor," she muttered, remembering the words painted on the dented shield. "And vengeance." Your mortal sister killed him. "And the truth. Have I the truth?"

"Truth is your name, Verity d'Ange."

"Verity? That is a part of my-"

"Gossamyr Verity de Wintershinn. Veridienne and I felt you should retain that part of your heritage."

"My, my mortal name." The knowledge landed her, light as a feather, to her shoulder. So precious, and she had held such all this time.

He lifted her hand and pressed it to his cheek, which momentarily brightened the tear trail. Not warm, Shinn's flesh, but neither cold. Drawing her hand away, he clasped it between both of his. "Now you have the truth. All of it. You must not worry for the world, Gossamyr. Think of yourself."

"Myself?" Verity d'Ange. Mortal. "Yes, so much I have wanted. So much I have received."

But there were others. "Can Avenall ever remember?"

Shinn shrugged. "I could make it so. Do you wish it?"

"I'm not sure." Not the same. "What if I Named him complete?"

"You might try. The Red Lady's power over him is great with the essences that feed her."

"What is her complete name, Shinn? 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 shield 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, Shinn shimmered 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. Shinn'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 Shinn's heart must have broken.

Had it ever healed? Or had Gossamyr's difficulties in adjusting to Faery, and her ultimate mutiny, ripped Shinn'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. Shinn'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 shimmer 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 shimmied 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, Shinn 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."

Shinn 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!"

Shinn 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."