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The Gossamer Gate

Page 12

by Wendy L. Callahan


  Every time she looked him in the eye, she saw a man who was unwilling to let her go. In herself, she saw the foolish girl who had naively trusted him. She had wanted to believe that he wanted her to succeed in her quest, but she knew that all he cared about was his own happiness.

  I have to put an end to this, she decided. I don’t want to rely on anybody but myself, and if someone else chooses to be in my life, that would be great. But they can’t expect to put me in a cage.

  She reminded herself that there was far more at stake than Liam’s heart and her own life. There was also Sean, now a prisoner of the King. Khiara worried that her friend had gotten more than he bargained for when he set out to find her.

  I may have lost my head, and maybe even my heart, but I haven’t forgotten about my best friend in the whole damn world.

  With a grimace of determination, she urged her mount into a flat-out gallop. As the palomino stretched its cream-colored legs to cover more ground, Khiara leaned low over his neck, intent on reaching the one person who loved her enough to meet Ronan’s seemingly impossible conditions for her liberation from the Otherworld.

  Chapter 14

  As the palomino clattered into the courtyard, Khiara looked at the palace. The edifice that had looked so enchanting in the night now looked foreboding, no matter how lovely it was. The tall, quartz crystal walls over which ivy and morning glories sprawled were no less formidable for all their beauty. The idea of storming in there, demanding Sean’s release, was a daunting one. But she was so close, she could not turn back now. Together they would reach the gate between the worlds and get back home.

  She dismounted and, leaving the palomino to wander the courtyard, ran toward the heavy front doors. As she approached, her footsteps slowed. What am I going to do? she asked herself. Yell at them until they let me in?

  The doors swung open and she blinked. “What the…”

  Through the doors came Sean, surrounded by a contingent of heavily armed faerie guards, with Liam at the front. The young prince’s gaze was on her as he said to the soldiers, “If he makes a sound, kill him.”

  Khiara returned his scrutiny without flinching from the strange hardness in his eyes. “What are you doing?” she asked him, her voice low, her fists clenched at her sides.

  “I have been asked to keep the two of you apart. Your friend is being moved to a safer location.”

  She took a step toward him. “Where are you taking him?”

  “If I told you, it would spoil the fun.” Liam raised his hand and the faerie magick swirled around them.

  “No!” Khiara ran toward Sean as he and faeries shimmered out of sight. “Damn it!” she cried, and turned back to confront Liam.

  There was no other living creature there, but the horse.

  “Damn it, Ronan, I’m coming for you!” she growled. “I’m so done playing your games.”

  She mounted and turned to ride back in the direction she had come throughout the predawn hours. It did not take as long to cover those miles, or to come to terms with the fact that Liam had been deceiving her all along. I should have seen it coming. There’s no trusting faeries. I’m such an idiot! she berated herself. He never cared about me. Why did I let myself believe he did?

  Urging her already tired mount to a full gallop once more, she crouched low over his soft, outstretched neck. She would not let these faeries make a fool of her, and she would not let Liam betray her again.

  ****

  Left on her own to try to find her way to Ronan’s castle, Khiara wanted to both cry and hit something at the same time.

  Instead, she focused on the fact that her quest to escape the Otherworld had turned into a rescue mission. The day was coming to a close, and both she and the horse would need their rest if she wanted to continue in the morning. Retracing her steps to return to the north road had not been difficult, and she hoped the open road was safer than the seclusion of the forest. At the very least, she decided, it would make finding her way much simpler.

  As the light of day faded, she heard voices far to her right. Ignore them, she told herself. If I investigate, I’ll probably just get into trouble again. I need to move on and find a place to rest.

  Without warning, something or someone jumped in front of the horse and danced a strange little jig in the road. The palomino took several, prancing steps backward, and Khiara managed to bring it back under control with some soothing words. She gripped the reins tight when the horse finally stilled, and inspected the creature standing before her.

  “It’s a human!” the thing shouted in a grating voice. It was short and squat; taller than a gnome, possibly something akin to a dwarf. Its pointed hat gave it extra height that was deceptive in the gray gloom.

  “A human what?” came another voice that sounded as nasty as the visible faerie’s.

  “A human woman!” said the thing as it reached up to grasp at the reins of the palomino.

  “Give her something to eat. Show her some hospitality!”

  “No way,” Khiara answered, trying to maneuver her mount further back without harming the short faerie. It took another swipe at the reins, and she backed the horse up a few more steps. “I’m in a hurry. I have some place to be. Somebody is waiting for me, somebody you don’t want to upset.”

  The thing moved closer, and she saw that it looked like a little old man with wrinkles around its dark red eyes, a bulbous nose, and a dark beard that reached all the way down to his feet. The tall, pointed red hat he wore was a brilliant red. The dumpy little faerie clutched a heavy iron pikestaff in one hand. Khiara saw the heavy iron boots on his feet and felt a shiver of terror wrack her body.

  “A Red Cap!” she gasped.

  “Now, now, we won’t hurt you,” it said, but there was a malevolent grin on its face that caused her to shudder once again with fear. “We just killed some stupid mortal traveler this night in your world. We’re not on the hunt, so don’t take on so.”

  “Then if it’s all the same to you, I need to be going,” Khiara responded, trying to keep the panic from her voice.

  “Where is there to hurry on a night like this?” he asked, his taloned fingers sliding along the palomino’s neck as he took one step, and then another toward her.

  “I need to see Prince Ronan. He is expecting me,” she answered, hoping the name would buy her passage. She feared the dangerous little fae would try to pull her from the saddle; the idea of being their next victim was enough to make her sick. The tip of his pike tilted toward her, then brushed against her leg, and she was unable to quell the revulsion that shot through her. As much as the idea of harming another creature pained her, she realized her only choice might be to run him down. It’s either my life or his.

  “Ronan?” asked the other voice. “A bad seed, that one! You don’t want to go to him! He won’t give you the mercy of a swift death. Bad, bad!”

  “Very bad,” said the other faerie standing before her. “Just come here, girl, and have you something to eat. You will be safer with us.”

  “Aye, for a time!” called the invisible voice, barely repressing its laughter.

  “No, I don’t need anything.” Khiara tried to urge her mount forward, but the little man stood his ground.

  “A drink, then,” he rasped at her, moving the tip of the pike toward the horse’s throat.

  “Ronan is waiting for me. If I don’t get to him soon, he’ll be very angry,” she said. If Ronan had such a bad reputation, even among the murderous Red Caps, perhaps she could use it to her advantage.

  “If you’re dead, you won’t have anything to worry about, will you?” the invisible voice shouted. “We can take care of that!”

  Before Khiara could decide what to do next, the fae standing before her leapt at the horse and wrapped a hand around the reins. Khiara tugged at the leather straps, trying to regain control of them. The Red Cap hung on saying, “Here now, girl! Stop that!” The sharp tip of the weapon he held waved dangerously close to her face.

  The exh
austed palomino struggled as well, backing away and dragging the faerie along the dirt road. With a shake of its head, the horse nearly dislodged the hideous little man. Khiara hunched lower in the saddle to keep her seat as the horse started to buck and toss its head harder. She dug her heels into its sides to encourage it to run.

  “You cannot outrun us,” the Red Cap said through gritted teeth as it hung from the reins. “Get down here now, and we’ll protect you from the prince’s wrath. Give us any trouble, and we’ll make sure you die slowly. Skin you alive and use your bones to pick our teeth.” Its threat chilled her to the core.

  Khiara heard a rustle behind her, and realized the second one was probably approaching as a result of the commotion. She tensed herself for the possibility of a spear in the back. There had to be a way to get the horse to break into a run, even if she had to trample the horrible little faerie. As her mount’s struggles grew desperate, she felt the fire energy pushing at the fissures in her control once more.

  Burn, she thought.

  With a yelp, the Red Cap let go of the palomino, just as the horse itself whinnied in pain and surprise. It leaped forward into a jarring gallop. Khiara did not look back; stories said outrunning a Red Cap was impossible. She intended to challenge that notion, and let the horse have its head.

  It seemed like miles before her mount slowed. Only then did she permit herself to look over her shoulder. She hoped they had left the bloodthirsty little faeries far behind them.

  “But good luck sleeping tonight, knowing those things exist,” she whispered to the horse. “I don’t even want to close my eyes. Those things might find us.”

  “They might, indeed.”

  Khiara nearly fell from the saddle at the sound of the voice. The magick within her rose up, seeking release in response to her frayed nerves.

  At that moment, a brilliant light flared, casting the area in a silvery-blue glow. Khiara blinked to adjust her vision and saw a lone woman sitting next to a campfire just off to the side of the road. “More than likely, though,” the woman said, “they’ve gone home.”

  “I certainly hope so,” Khiara said, staring down at the faerie. She was swathed in a patched brown robe and, even though she appeared to be middle-aged, she exuded that magnificent, otherworldly beauty common to the fae. In terms of age, Khiara realized that to look middle-aged, a faerie would have to be at least several centuries old. It was then that she realized she was not only in the presence of an ancient fae, but also quite likely a highly powerful one.

  “Are you going to come down here?” the woman asked. “You’re giving me a terrible crick in my neck from looking up at you.”

  Realizing she was perched in her saddle, gaping down at the fae, Khiara closed her mouth and nodded. “I mean no discourtesy,” she responded, glancing back down the road. “It’s just that I’m not sure I feel comfortable with the idea of placing my feet back on solid ground after what happened to me back there.”

  “If they do come this way, I’ll send them running,” the woman reassured her. “Meeting a Red Cap would unnerve any mortal, but now the danger has passed. You need your rest, young lady.” The fae’s demeanor was tender and maternal.

  But since when do outward appearances count for anything here? Khiara asked herself. Still, it’s not like I’m in a position to blow off anyone’s offer of help.

  Despite the fact that her whole body shaking with fear and exhaustion, she dismounted. With unsteady fingers, she tethered her winded mount to a tree and picked her bag up off the saddle.

  Without a word, the woman waved her hand and a bucket of water appeared before the horse. It bent its head to the liquid and drank eagerly. Khiara felt the calming flow of water magick emanating from the woman. She had expected to feel threatened by magick that represented the elemental opposite of fire. Khiara realized that she was mistaken. The sensation of the fluid energy was soothing, as if it was gently conforming to her in a sinuous embrace. It felt neither passive nor aggressive. The energy simply existed, patiently ebbing and flowing around her.

  “Come and sit,” the woman commanded, though not unkindly.

  “My name is Khiara,” she responded as she sat before the fire, resting her back against a tree, where she could watch the road. After a few breaths, she turned to look at the woman. The fae had blue eyes, with a few lines in her forehead, around her eyes, and mouth. Concealed beneath her brown hood was pale blonde hair that was nearly silver.

  “I already know your name.”

  “Oh. Of course you do.” Khiara startled out of her assessment of the area, and could not help but stare at the woman. “May I ask your name?”

  “It is nothing that should matter to you.”

  “But it does matter to me. I appreciate not having to be by myself right now. I’m so tired, but I’m afraid to sleep. If you will be here through the night, then I would like to know to whom I should be grateful for not having to spend the night on my own.”

  “Go to sleep. Nothing will harm you.”

  Khiara reached into her bag, wishing she had something appropriate to give to the faerie woman for what she hoped was her kindness. Something came to her hand and she withdrew it, and then offered it to the woman. “Please, will you accept this as a token of my gratitude?” she asked.

  The woman took the bundle, lifted a corner of it, looked within, and smiled. Tucking the clothing next to her, she said, “You will rest well tonight, Khiara.”

  ****

  “Two days to go.” Khiara sighed as she stretched in the morning sun, blinking away the sleep in her eyes. She felt surprisingly refreshed as she sat upright.

  Looking around the area, she saw no trace of the campfire or woman from the night before. She wondered if it had been an illusion, or perhaps a test of some sort. Like a faerie godmother, the woman had come, taken care of the very worst of Khiara’s troubles at that moment, and then gone.

  Reaching out to touch the area where the fire ring had been the previous night, she found that not only did the earth look completely undisturbed, but it felt as if the grass was strong and well established. Nothing had burned this ground. Yet she did feel a lingering tingle of the soothing, rippling water magick. At the very least, the sensation of the cool, liquid power assured her that she had not conjured the woman from her own imagination.

  Rising to her feet, she saw the sun was not far above the horizon. The day was foggy and overcast, and she was feeling physically better than she had in a week. For the first time, she had rested deeply, lulled by a sense of security.

  “I’ve come so far,” she told herself. “I’m almost there.”

  Untying the horse, she walked for a while to stretch her legs. Khiara had forgotten the pleasures of simply enjoying a summer day, even an inclement one. Although thin clouds obscured the sun, the air was sweet and fragrant. The gray mist cast a strange and magickal glow over the land.

  The next thing she knew, a sword was leveled at her throat.

  “What…” She gasped as she looked into the dark, narrowed eyes of the person holding the blade. He was several inches taller than her, clad in dark brown leather armor, including a helmet that concealed his features. She saw only those eyes full of rage, and her heart began to hammer at her ribcage. Never had someone looked at her with so much hatred as this fae warrior was directing at her now.

  “Mortal,” he simply said, his voice guttural. He drew his arm back.

  Khiara knew his intention was to cleave her head from her neck. With a cry, she turned and ran, clutching at the palomino’s reins. I cannot lose the horse, she told herself.

  The tall faerie was on her heels, but his leather armor slowed him. However, the reach of his sword was enough to close the distance between them. She felt it nick the back of her thigh, and she gasped at the stinging pain. She knew if she turned, the blade would next thrust through her heart. Legs and arms pumping, she desperately tried to put distance between herself and her attacker, and still keep hold of the horse’s reins. Reach
ing blindly for the saddle, she made a frantic leap at the palomino. She managed to clutch at the saddle with both hands and haul herself halfway onto it. The horse slowed somewhat, and she quickly threw her leg over its rump, then urged it to continue.

  Daring to glance over her shoulder, she saw Liam’s familiar form standing between her and her attacker. The two men faced one another as the air hummed with strong elemental fae magick. Liam’s fire energy flickered all around them in the air, the sparks gathering together to form something larger.

  Drawing her mount to a halt and turning, Khiara watched from what she hoped was a safe distance. The fae warrior was also pouring on the power, she realized, as a strong wind began to blow through the trees. The zephyr quickly built into gusts that threatened to extinguish the magickal flames dancing between the two fae males.

  “You will back down and leave this one to me,” Liam growled, an inferno gathering around him as he drew on his power. As if in response, Khiara’s own dormant energies flared up within her. Everything in her wanted to be close to Liam, her magick tangibly leaning – yearning – toward his.

  “The mortals will destroy us all, given their chance. Let there be one less to threaten our existence!” The warrior exuded not just power, but all the zealotry of a fanatic. “Her crime against the fae is known. Our enemies must be vanquished!” As he spoke, a burst of wind churned the air, transforming the initial gusts into an eddying cyclone that swirled around them.

  “This will not happen. Prince Ronan has demanded that no one harm her. It is for him to decide her fate. If he has his way, she will suffer enough to repay faeriekind for an eternity.” Liam’s voice was calm, yet firm as he continued to expand the wall of fire that danced between Khiara and her self-styled executioner. With a gentle touch, she soothed her restless mount, even as her own elemental forces sought to merge with Liam’s. She could feel the blaze inside of her reaching toward his, forcing itself beyond her physical body. The dry heat scorched at the wind that whirled around them. Dried, fallen leaves flickered to ashes the moment they were caught up in the burning whirlwind.

 

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