Ulrich but held her gaze, no admonishment, yet little compa.s.sion in his look.

"Shinn had arranged our vows. It has been so for many Faery moons. We will wed..." I see.

She could not prevent a sigh. He could never understand, though it was his right to know all. "Desideriel...does not favor me."

"As I do," he answered in the smallest voice.

"Yes, as you...do." She smiled, but mirth slipped from her mouth so quickly, she felt the pain of its departure. Mortal touched meant that she was loved by this man, and she in turn loved him. "But he is a good man. An excellent leader. Shinn would want Desideriel to replace him as lord of Glamoursiege. It is necessary."

"Yes."

"Ulrich, I love you."

"Ah?" A touch to her lip. Difficult to put off the exquisite feeling of being loved. "So much that you would marry another?"

"I love Faery even more. It is the only home I have ever known. So much that I would offer my hand to a loveless marriage."

"But if you return-did you not say you would age?"

"It is a chance I must risk."

Cleaving together, the twosome kissed, and falling they went, falling, deep into oblivion. No need for words. This contact bonded them, soul to mortal soul, mortal heart to beating mortal heart. Light in Ulrich's arms. Light in this world.

Here is home.

To be kissed ever and anon by this kind, gentle man returned the smile to her lips. This feeling of safety and acceptance she could believe in ever after.

"Thought I'd try to convince you to remain," he said, pulling back from their embrace. He sought her eyes. "How did I do?"

"Very persuasive." She touched his mouth. "But-"

"Say not another word. I understand. Verity, is it? I am a better man for knowing you."

And he stepped away, turning to acknowledge the changeling who waited beside Tor.

So simple as turning away one's head, their departure?

Yes, and keep it so.

Gossamyr clutched her chest. There is where it pained. Many men that she had loved, and all of them, taken from her. Was it fair that she must sacrifice so much to save a realm not her own? No.

Champions are made.

Indeed. And champions be as lonely as an innocent mortal woman coming into her own.

She gestured to Ulrich to bring the saddlebag to her. The two knelt in the meadow before Tor. Ulrich carefully extracted the wrapped alicorn from the leather bag and laid it upon the blades of boot-crunched gra.s.s.

"You do it," he said to her. "Unwrap it. It is not my place." He looked to Dominique. "Unless you wish to?"

Dominique nodded his head. "Neither is it my place. Only the pure of heart may touch the alicorn without risking grave harm to the Enchantment pure. Lady d'Ange?"

How perfect that name felt. Not new, but always hers. Here did she belong, in the Otherside. Yet now she must sacrifice to make things right in Faery.

"I'm not so sure how pure I am." She had kissed a man-two men. Did that not lessen her purity? Only a maiden could enthrall the unicorn. "I am," she murmured, ruefully, "I am afraid. Besides, Ulrich, you must have your wish."

A thick rusted brow arched aside the new bruise. "You must do it. And you have overlooked the fact that I be no virgin, Faery Not. Would that I had realized such before I began this quest, eh?"

"But you have traveled far."

"Truly, it is not right to bring back the dead. I must be satisfied with my memories and know that Rhiana did live for twenty-two years. Pray it was a good life." Ulrich's hand on her shoulder anch.o.r.ed a rich warmth in her chest. "You are the champion, Gossamyr of Glamoursiege. I bid you, Verity d'Ange, return Enchantment to this beast."

She nodded, and as Ulrich stepped back to stand beside Dominique, she knelt before the alicorn and touched the wrapping. Beside her, Tor snorted softly; not impatient, but calming. Ready.

She held the ability to grant this beast a return to Faery. With him, Tor would bring Shinn to rest in his rightful place. As well, Avenall would be returned to Rouge thorn.

Pulling back the cloth, she revealed the glittering alicorn. Dominique's gasp placed a smile to her face. Time to give back the gift of Faery and to seal the rift. And she? She would marry Desideriel and place a new lord upon the Glamoursiege throne.

All would be right, save her heart.

Standing, she bent and gripped the alicorn. The power of the object- Enchantment pure-susurrated through her arms and down her sides, stiffening her carriage and flexing her limbs straight out in surrender. Verity rode the wondrous wave of power for but a moment.

Not yours to possess. Return it!

Finding she could move, she placed the alicorn to the raw oval on the beast's forehead. It sealed. And the unicorn reared onto its hind legs, whinnying triumphantly. The witch locks that had once protected it from harm unwound and the lush long mane splayed out at neck and tail. Awareness tapped all creatures. Insects buzzed up from the green-ribbon gra.s.ses, clouding in a whoosh of wing and clacking sh.e.l.l. Squirrels chattered in the trees, and in the distance a lone fox howled.

And for a moment Verity saw the world in all the vibrant colors of Faery. The sky intensified and became like indigo gla.s.s, liquid and smooth. Clouds dissipated. The gra.s.ses swayed and sang a canorous song.

The unicorn's forelegs stomped the ground. The ba.s.s pulse of the earth echoed with each stomp. Verity, frozen in place, smiled as a soft wet nose nudged her face and a rough tongue lapped her chin. Kissed by Enchantment.

The last taste she might ever know.

To her side, Ulrich threaded his fingers into hers and Tor moved to stand before the soul shepherd. The unicorn bowed its head and pressed the length of its nose to Ulrich's face, a strange communion that held the man in a shuddering reverie. Shaking minutely, Ulrich stretched out both arms, releasing-and gaining. With a snap of its head Tor pulled back.

Ulrich collapsed forward onto the ground, palms catching in the gra.s.ses. In the next moment he exclaimed in effusive gasps, "She is alive! My Rhiana! The unicorn bid me see her. She is-not safe-but yet lives! Oh, my, such dragon fire."

The unicorn turned and, going down on one leg, bowed before Dominique. A dust of white-plumed mouse flies sifted skyward. The beast bristled and shook its head. Dominique bowed.

In a storm of lofting b.u.t.terflies and bees and scuttling field mice the unicorn took off at a gallop. It charged the meadow then turned and cantered toward Shinn and Avenall. Powerful forelegs beating the earth, the sound of its pace drummed the air. A leap pa.s.sed the white stallion over the Faery lord's body. But it did not land the ground. One moment the unicorn beat down the gra.s.ses with powerful legs and dancing head- -the next moment it was gone.

Returned to Faery. Re-Enchanted.

Shinn had gone to rest in the place of his origin. Avenall would be returned to Rougethorn.

Iridescent wings fluttered over Gossamyr's head. She tilted back her head, catching the sharp tinks of her crystallized tears upon her eyelids and cheeks. Contact softened them and salty liquid slid over her flesh. The sound of love lost cried out across the meadow.

Verity turned to find she stood before the blue marble castle. "Oh."

Flutter of the fetch's wings glittered in her peripheral view- but began to fade. All began to blur and soften at the edges like ripples on a pond distorting a reflection. Time here would be limited. Soon she would lose all sight of Faery, and in turn Faery would rob her of life.

Now, to find Desideriel.

"I have worried a pacing trail across the room!" Mince scampered out from the castle entry. "You are home."

Home, yes, in Mince's arms. And in her father's closed eyes.

The same, this castle. The same, her maid.

Mince fussed and tugged at her motley clothing and commented when she saw her burnt hair. But Gossamyr could only wrap her arms about her and hug. Close, here in Faery, and better for it. Ever the same.

"Lord de Wintershinn?"

Gossamyr gulped at the heavy air. "He has had the final twinclian, Mince."

"Oh, blight!" The maid faltered, but Gossamyr caught her by the elbow and walked her toward the castle.

Never had she truly belonged. She believed in the Otherside now. Her side. "The wedding must go on. Shinn would have wanted that. Though I doubt I shall live long after. Time will make that decision for me."

"Nonsense!"

"I am mortal...you know. The rift has been sealed. My time is limited."

"Oh? Oh, yes, yes." Mince clasped her arm tight to Gossamyr's and leaned upon her as they walked. "Oh, Gossamyr?"

"Verity."

"Oh?"

"My mortal name-"

"Nay, you must not speak a Name from the Otherside or you will-"

Perish. The unspoken word.

"You may be safe-hold back Time-if you do not utter your mortal name complete." The maid nodded effusively, and then...

"Mince? I cannot see you."

"I'm right here, precious one. Oh, we must hurry you to Desideriel!"

Desideriel Raine stood in the cloistered tower, looking out over the rose garden. He wore battle gear, armored gauntlets, a leather cuira.s.s strapped across his broad chest, and greaves on his shins. Brilliant periwinkle wings folded down his back and thighs.

Gossamyr, quite in a hurry, but slowing her approach, paused some good distance from him and bowed. Still garbed in the tattered fur-trimmed gown and Dominique's hemat.i.te-rimmed cape, she had allowed Mince to untwist her plait to survey the damage from the flame. A perfect mess, she appeared.

If Desideriel took notice of her he did not show it.

She hadn't time for his refusal to recognize her as a viable mate. Her staff, it was not to hand, and she felt not whole without it. With immense regret for what she planned, Gossamyr stepped right up to Desideriel- close enough for Faery.

"Lady de Wintershinn," he offered, looking down upon her. He did not move, but neither could he summon a bow. But his eyes did widen and his nostrils flared. Disgust. "It has been many moons."

"But a few mortal days," she said. There was no time to wonder about the erratic effects of Time.

"Shinn left a full moon cycle previous," Desideriel said. "The revenants, they have ceased. I have waited for Lord de Wintershinn's return."

"He is dead."

Desideriel stepped back, obviously taken with her abrupt announcement.

"Forgive my rude manner," she spoke quickly, but with the authority her position afforded. "I am not long for Faery. Before my father died he explained much about...my origins."

"He is dead?"

"Sacrificed himself for me."

"I see." Was that genuine concern in the violet depths of Desideriel's gaze? "Then you have returned to take the throne?"

"Listen to me, Desideriel." She approached the crenellated marble and swung to face him as bravely as she could muster. No, bravery was not required, she had that. It was fort.i.tude. "I cannot rule Glamoursiege, nor do I wish to. Shinn chose you."

"To stand at your side as your adviser."

"No, to rule Glamoursiege."

"I don't understand."

"Despite your lack of regard for my half blood-" Drawing up straight, she settled into her mortality with ease. This is who she was. Mortal, and not about to regret that fact. For so many she had loved because of it. "- you were the only choice to take control of the Glamoursiege reign. Will you do as the former Lord de Wintershinn desired?"

"I...yes. I will. And I do not hate-"

She put up her hand again. "I see your truth in your eyes. Do not make it peccable with falseness."

He nodded. Not about to admit what she claimed to know. It only made what she must do all the more trying.

"We should marry quickly. As I've said, I've not time. The rift has been sealed. I should not have returned, but to see Glamoursiege crown a new lord I have risked it. You will gain a wife who puts the disgust to your eyes, but worry not, I shall perish soon enough, leaving you to reign."

"We shall wed this evening."

"Splendid." So cold, his quick plans. But not unexpected. An excellent commander Lord Desideriel shall make. "I'll have Mince gather fitting vestments for we two, and you shall see the proper authorities are summoned...Desideriel."

Yes?

"We must both enter the agreement knowing the other's truths. I know you do not favor me. I find you a fine and powerful warrior, well qualified to stand in my father's wake-but, my heart belongs to another."

He lifted a brow.

"As well, I have learned I am mortal complete. An exchange taken to appease a changeling birth. I cannot stand upon the throne of Glamoursiege. It would be sacrilege. But my marriage to you will grant you that reign."

"I begin to understand-"

"Far more quickly than I could, I guess. As well I have learned my real name." She touched the hard leather curve of Desideriel's armor chest plate, carved on the dextral side with the Glamour-siege crest, and on the sinistral, a smaller version of his homeland crest, the Wisogoth. "I will tell it to you as a trust to honor our vows."