The Gossamer Gate

by Wendy L. Callahan

The dark red dress had a black corset-like bodice that laced up the front, and puffy red sleeves that tapered along her arms into flowing black lace cuffs. There were several black buckles at the waist, which only emphasized her slender figure above the full, floor-length red skirt of the dress. From the red choker-like collar of the dress to the top of the bodice, black lace was the only thing covering her chest. Her hair dangled around her shoulders in golden curls, with a few loose braids woven into it on either side, left unfastened so the ends would interweave with the rest of her hair.

  “This is insanity,” she muttered while the maids cleaned up the room. In her mind, Khiara had dubbed all the hair devices, make-up tools, and wardrobe the Implements of Beautification. “They certainly worked.” She squared her shoulders and pursed her lips at the mirror. If the faerie maids had not shooed her out of the room, Khiara would have spent the entire night gawking at her reflection.

  They left her standing on the balcony overlooking the first floor of the palace. She could see inside the well-lit ballroom, where faerie women whirled with their dance partners, their colorful dresses blending into a rainbow of hues. The men wore tight breeches in shades of black or dark gray, and long, old-fashioned coats that were black, dove gray, or ivory, with flared sleeves and lace at the cuffs. They wore tall black boots and tricorn style hats. The women’s dresses were similar to the one Khiara wore, with puffed sleeves, laced bodices, and full skirts. Their hair was styled in ringlets with ribbons laced throughout the strands.

  “Isn’t this something?” Khiara made her way slowly down the stairs, not quite ready to enter the sea of color and music.

  It had gotten dark outside, making the crystalline ballroom appear even more brilliant. Orbs of white light hung from the ceiling and cast a silvery glow over the room. The scent of silver-purple lilacs and white roses in bloom made the moment feel even more dream-like as she watched the dance from the staircase.

  To Khiara’s surprise, the orchestra was playing symphonic metal. The cellists were grinding out a sound that rivaled her favorite grunge and metal bands back home, the drummer playing with an almost feral rhythm, and it was surreal to see the fae dancers moving to the powerful sound with a wildly fast-paced pavane. “Rock on,” she said with a laugh, as she continued down the stairs.

  In addition to the glowing orbs of light, there were pure crystal chandeliers hanging from the ceiling of the ballroom. They cast miniature rainbows across the walls and floors, which further illuminated the dancers as they stepped and whirled throughout the ballroom. The walls of the room itself were the same rough quartz crystal used to construct the palace, adorned with silver hangings. It seemed that everything in the room, from the walls to the windows to the ceiling, was made of silver and crystal. The dance floor itself reminded her of a chessboard, with alternating squares of marble in silver and black. It was like a magickal, incandescent wonderland.

  “If I live through this, I’m going to remember this night forever.” She paused at the bottom of the staircase and took a deep breath.

  As she saw the beautiful faerie women with their porcelain skin, blue or violet eyes, and red-tinged hair, she wondered why any faerie man would set them aside for a human bride. These were the most stunning females Khiara had ever seen in her life. The energy of faery magick hummed through her as though it were a part of her. She reveled in the sensation of the fae power that had once been dormant in her blood; a power she felt awakening with every moment that ticked beyond her reach in this realm.

  “Ah, you are the human girl.” A footman approached her, startling her out of her fanciful reverie, and said, “Would you please follow me?”

  She nodded and fell into step behind him. The footman led her through the ballroom, across the very center of it, to the thrones on which the King and Queen sat. Dancers stopped to watch her, and Khiara thrust her hands into the folds of her dress to clutch the fabric. Her gaze darted from side to side, seeking Liam’s familiar face. She hoped that the hostility she thought she saw in the faces of the revelers was only a product of her imagination. They observed her progress through narrowed eyes, their lips compressed in thin lines. In fact, she realized belatedly, the entire room was silent.

  When the footman stopped, Khiara did as well, dropped her eyes, and sank into a low curtsy.

  “Is this the girl?” a voice asked.

  “Yes,” answered a familiar voice, and Khiara raised her gaze to the Queen. “This is our Ronan’s young lady. Is she not lovely?” The Queen smiled down at her. “This, my dear, is my consort. Mortals often call him Oberon.”

  When Khiara moved her gaze to Oberon, she realized the King was looking her over critically. He was a handsome faerie, his dark hair wavy, his sea-green eyes striking in the intensity of their color. The energy coming from him was palpably dark. Khiara recognized it as the same negative magick that Ronan exuded. The resemblance between father and son was uncomfortably uncanny, and she shuddered with remembrance.

  “Our son has chosen you as his consort,” Oberon said without inflection. “Why do you not accept this choice and take your proper place beside him?”

  “I… Your Majesty.” Khiara stumbled over her words. She closed her eyes, licked her lips, and tried again. “I am pleased with my life in the mortal world, and have no wish to leave it behind. Besides that, I do not love your son, and do not believe I would make him a good companion. Your son deserves someone who will love him deeply and stand by him forever.”

  The King glared at her and Khiara could see where Ronan had also inherited his temper. She could imagine that if Titania were angry, the Queen would simply smite the offender with her magick and be done with it. These faerie men held grudges and cherished their obsessions with the things they could not have, Khiara realized. They were certainly the more stubborn gender. She would rather have Titania angry at her and be done with it, than be dogged her entire life by a controlling faerie prince.

  “It pleases my wife to show you hospitality, and so we shall,” Oberon said at last.

  Khiara curtsied a little deeper and said, “You are very kind.”

  As she straightened, Oberon rose from his throne, stepped to her side, and whispered in her ear, “You have no idea what a kindness I am doing you tonight.”

  With a shiver, Khiara backed away from the sovereigns and tried to blend into the crowd as the orchestra began to play once more. She had been all too aware of the uncomfortable silence, the stares, and the varying sensations of faerie magick weaving throughout the room.

  “Come.”

  She turned gratefully to Liam as his familiar energy surrounded her. He took her by the hand and pulled her into the dance. She sighed at the gesture and the tension drained from her body. “Tha…”

  “You already said it once,” he reminded her. “Don’t do it again.”

  “Right.” She shook her head, then bowed it to watch his feet as they moved. “Why do I do that with you?”

  “You tell me.”

  Looking up into his eyes, she admitted, “I’m not entirely sure I want to be rid of you.” As she spoke, she thought about how warm he was, how strong the arm around her waist felt. Her chest tightened, a sensation she had not felt in a long time. It was a feeling she used to experience when she first decided she was in love with Sean.

  It was a feeling that had lessened over time as she told herself, day after day, that her best friend would never return those feelings.

  The return of it was so strong, she had to draw several shallow breaths to regain her equilibrium. Shit. I’m falling in love with the wrong guy… Again.

  “Do you think you might want to stay here?” Liam asked, his gaze locking with hers. “Is that why you continue to risk owing an ever-growing debt to me? Do you even realize that you’re doing it?”

  Yes, yes, yes, something whispered in her mind.

  He was looking at her so intensely, she took a moment to consider forgetting her life in the mortal world, staying here with him. Despite what
she’d said to the King, she really had nothing back in her world to return to. Cate and Felisa were more than capable of taking over the coven and the classes. Nobody would miss her on Friday nights, least of all Sean…

  The hard-driving strains of cello and rhythmic drumbeats filled the room with their fierce music, but all Khiara could hear were her own bewildered, traitorous thoughts. Was her reaction to Liam’s attentions a result of Sean rejecting her time and again, or was it the real thing?

  Has being in the Otherworld turned me into a capricious bitch, or am I finally coming to my senses? she wondered.

  Regardless of how she analyzed it, she came to one inescapable conclusion: she wanted Liam, and that made more sense than anything else right now.

  Suddenly, Khiara was in a familiar position – her back against the wall as he leaned in close to her. Somehow he had managed to find a dark corner in that shimmering, crystalline ballroom, concealing them in shadows so that the other guests were entirely oblivious to them.

  One of his hands stayed at her waist, but the other let go of her hand to touch her face. His fingers then trailed down along her throat, brushed over her chest, and then skimmed along the side of her body. His lips caressed her temple. Her eyes fluttered shut as she enjoyed the feeling of his body pressed to hers.

  “I can’t,” she protested faintly, feeling as though she could hardly breathe. “If I do this with you, then that is taking something from the faerie world. I will never be able to go home.”

  “You’re fighting for something you don’t really want. Just let me kiss you,” he argued softly, his lips touching hers lightly. “Nothing more than a kiss… I won’t hold it against you.”

  “I don’t think I can,” she whispered, her eyes remaining closed of their own volition as her instinctive desire fought against her rational mind. “I won’t want to stop there.”

  She felt his hand return to her face and his fingers take hold of her chin. Opening her eyes, she saw his brow furrow as he looked at her.

  There was a shout and the sound of a scuffle behind him, and the orchestra went silent.

  “What’s going on?” Khiara asked, blinking the passion from her eyes. She felt Liam’s grip on her waist tighten.

  “Trouble,” he said through gritted teeth, his eyes narrowing and a scowl crossing his face.

  She looked at him with wide eyes. “Is it Ronan?”

  Liam shoved her further back into the shadows and through a low-hanging curtain that concealed a dimly lit hall. “We need to leave now,” he responded, his tone urgent. Taking Khiara by the hand, he led her away from the ballroom.

  Chapter 11

  “Why are we leaving?” Khiara gasped, glancing back over her shoulder.

  Liam pulled her along through the corridor, his grip on her hand crushing her fingers. “We have to leave because it is time for you to be on your way. He has come to take you away from here, and I won’t let that happen.”

  “Is Ronan here?” Instinctively, she laced her fingers through Liam’s, both to alleviate the uncomfortable hold he had on her and to bind their hands together more intimately.

  He did not answer, but she could feel the tension radiating from his body as he pulled her out into the night and ducked into an archway in the fence surrounding the palace. “Here.” He seemed to produce Khiara’s messenger bag from out of thin air as he shoved it into her hands. She put the strap across her body as he opened the door beneath the arch. He guided her through it and into the city behind the palace.

  Khiara found it difficult to keep pace with him as he dragged her along. The skirts were heavy against her legs, the dancing shoes thin and dainty, and not at all appropriate to walking along cobbled streets. The laces of the corseted bodice were tight enough to keep her from getting the air she needed while running. “I need to get out of this dress!” she cried.

  “You can change clothes when we get out of the city. It isn’t safe here anymore.”

  “Couldn’t we get horses or something?” Khiara asked, her hopes for a comfortable night’s sleep diminishing with each step they took away from the glittering palace.

  “No time for that.”

  They ran on through the faerie capitol and into the night, past darkened homes and alleys, past the sparse houses on the edge of the city. Khiara wished that they could stop for just a moment, so that she could truly appreciate the winding streets; so that she could admire the warped, twisted, and asymmetrical little houses that looked like something out of a surrealist painting; the delicate white birch trees, topped with glowing crystals, that lined and lit the streets.

  Yet they plunged on ahead, passing through the city so quickly that Khiara had no time to wonder what might happen next. One moment, the sounds of their footfalls scraped against the cobblestone, and the next the lush foliage of a new forest cloaked them in ever-deepening darkness. Liam slowed from his sprint to a jog, still maintaining a fast pace and relentlessly pulling Khiara along behind him.

  She tried to focus on what was going on around her. The messenger bag seemed lighter, despite the Queen’s promise of clean clothes and provisions. Shit, she thought. Neither of us thought this through. Bewildered and panting for air, she tugged on Liam’s hand. “That’s enough!” she yelled at him and dug her heels into the ground. “I need to stop!”

  “Fine.” He dropped her hand and folded his arms. “Make it fast.”

  While he watched, and paced back and forth, Khiara dropped to the ground in exasperation. She didn’t care if the ball gown got dirty. It was useless to her now. She took a few seconds to catch her breath, and then reached up to unlace the bodice. “It’s about damn time,” she grumbled. “This thing isn’t exactly made for a getaway.”

  “I’m sorry about that.” Liam glanced back the way they had come and Khiara followed his gaze. They couldn’t even see the lights of the capitol through the trees anymore.

  Khiara took only a moment to speculate about why the playful bard had become so nervous. At the moment, she really wanted to get out of the voluminous, constricting dress, and get some sleep. She sighed as she dropped the black corset to the ground. “Even though they gave me a bath, I must smell awful after running around in this heat and humidity.” She fanned herself with her hands and shuddered as a trickle of sweat ran down her back.

  When the faerie man turned to look at her, he had regained control of his expression once more. Gone was the lust and the anxiety. The poker face was back. “You’ll find a pond through those trees.” He pointed and Khiara’s gaze followed the gesture. “You can freshen up there. Don’t take long.”

  “Thank you.” Khiara hardly realized she had said the words until the moment they tumbled out of her mouth. They were second nature in the mortal world. I guess my sense of self-preservation takes a vacation in Liam’s presence. She took a few more deep breaths, then rose to her feet, grabbed her bag, and walked in the direction he had indicated.

  The moon was slightly larger than half-full and cast an iridescent glow over the land. There was enough light for Khiara to find the tranquil lake and she had no trouble removing the elegant red dress. Dropping the dress and the bag on the shore, Khiara kicked off the thin, flat dancing shoes, and dipped her toes into the water. It was as warm as a comfortable bath, and she waded into it with a sigh. The lake was so still and serene, she wondered for a moment if anything lived in it.

  Actually, I’m not sure I want to know the answer to that question…

  As she immersed herself in the summer-warmed water, Khiara felt all her worries melt away. She sank down until she was shoulder-deep in it. Everything around her was calm. Even the air was completely still. Shrubs of pale pink, lily-like flowers grew along one shore, just within the ring of trees that enclosed the area, giving the lake a comforting feeling of seclusion.

  With another sigh of surrender, Khiara swam to the other side, then back. “This feels wonderful,” she said to herself as the water washed away the sweat of her escape.

  �
�So do you,” responded a rich, feminine voice and the water rippled around Khiara.

  “Holy shit!” Khiara cried as she turned and splashed instinctively in the direction of the voice.

  “Stop that right now young lady! You’re making a mess of my lovely lake.” Even as it scolded her irritably, the voice still managed to sound seductive.

  “Who are you?” Khiara turned left and right in her search of the area for signs of life.

  “I am the spirit of this pool. Do not be afraid.” Something with a human shape took form in the water opposite her, near the shore of the pond. The figure reclined back against the mossy earth, sensuously moving its legs through the water.

  “Does that make you an undine?” Khiara asked as she remembered what water spirits were called.

  “It certainly does.” The woman was tall and voluptuous, her bare skin pale and completely visible in the moonlight, her hair a light shade of silvery-blue, with seaweed and grass intertwined through locks that rippled like water. “Why do you run away from the faerie world, mortal girl?” the undine asked as she lounged on the shore, her wide, liquid silver gaze on Khiara. “When love is being offered to you, you should welcome it. It isn’t every day that you find it, you know.”

  “What Ronan feels for me isn’t love,” Khiara answered as she tread water. “It’s an obsession with something that he can’t have.”

  “Is that right?” The undine rolled over to lie on her belly as she regarded Khiara. “Did you know, mortal girl, that we do not have souls?” it asked.

  “I’m sorry?” Khiara knew that she sounded as taken aback as she felt.

  “An undine has no soul, unless a mortal man will help her to conceive a child. Every one of my race dreams of what it must be like to have a soul. We need the love of a man to make us complete. There is a reason the Goddess made us this way, and you and I are not so different if you consider this.”

  “I’m sorry, but I fail to see the parallel there. In the mortal world, we are taught that nobody needs another person to make them complete,” Khiara answered and shook her head. “I have never needed another person to make me feel like something more than what I already am. I’m secure in the person I have become in my life.”