you? You're not looking for
Gossamyr?"
"Nay."
"Marvelous. Oh! Er, fine. Just fine."
Now he understood. Mince sought Gossamyr.
"I'm out to the yard."
"What for?"
"Oh? To check...for something. Erm, the peacocks must be
shooed from the roses."
"She is gone, Mince."
"She?" The matron paused by the door, turning to him
with delicate fingers curled into one another. "Who, Lord
Wintershinn?"
"Gossamyr has gone to the Otherside."
"No, I—I just saw her. I'm sure she's here somewhere,
swinging from the roots—I'll start there, my lord. She never
disappears for overlong."
"I sent her."
Mince gaped, seeming to momentarily choke on her own breath.
"W-why? How?" she breathed. "Did you...tell her
everything?"
"She seeks the Red Lady. I sent her through a Passage. You
know her truth will keep her from returning to me."
"Oh! But she needs to know! You've sent her to face the very
woman— Oh, dear."
SIX
Forgoing the village of Aparjon for what Ulrich claimed to be
another not three leagues to the east, the duo plodded through
unmarked grasses and followed a low rabbit-ravaged hedgerow for some
distance until a narrower, lesser traveled road attracted them. There
were no trees as far as she could see. The world was very silent.
Eerily so.
Ulrich called ahead to Gossamyr. "We should seek shelter for
the night, 'tis nearing matins."
"You don't think we'll make the village?"
"Likely not."
Sensing the man's exhaustion, Gossamyr conceded. "Very well."
Tugging Ulrich's cloak about her shoulders seemed to hold the
crumbling pourpoint together. She hoped. She had dismounted earlier
and now walked, finding the exercise more fitting than joggling along
on the miserable old mule. She sensed the beast tread alongside the
Infernal, and did not wish to put more of a burden on it than
necessary.
The fetch preceded her at a clever distance. She had ever thought
fetches only recorded noteworthy events. Mayhap Shinn missed her as
much as she was beginning to miss him? To have the fetch follow her
at all times?
Miss her father? It had been but part of a day.
The only thing she missed right now was the illumination of Faery.
This mortal night clung to Gossamyr on all sides. Crickets chirped
and unseen rodents scampered along the grassy borders of the rutted
path. She could not see Ulrich for the gloom, but judged him less
than twenty paces behind her.
His suggestion to stop was not entirely unwarranted. She did feel
the strain of her journey tug at the muscles in her calves and
shoulders. Yet the struggle to stride freely while keeping the cloak
wrapped—blight!
Gossamyr dropped the ends of the cloak and let the sweeping fabric
dangle. If her garments were to fall off, then so shall it be. For
she wanted to skip, to revel in this atmosphere that welcomed like a
warm embrace.
"Oh, Hades, be gone."
Gossamyr smirked at Ulrich's hissed remark. The man had babbled
most of the way. He had a strange compulsion to compare things, or
rather label them as either "the same" or "not the
same." She could not figure what he was about. But she had to
confess, having a companion eased a bit of her growing discomfort.
Alone in a new land. Physically capable, but...her thoughts had begun
to return to a place of safety.
She missed Mince. The matron was ever there, a companion, a
confidante. A willing foil when Shinn would question Gossamyr's day,
and she had snuck off to tournament. And always there to bring her
whatever she may request, to know before Gossamyr spoke her need.
Spoiled? Never before had she heard that term to describe one who
is given all she needs. Such as a lady who travels with a caged
faery in tow?
Hmm...not like that. Nor did she smell.
An eerie feeling of disquiet shimmied about Gossamyr's body. It
wasn't as though she were frightened by the darkness. Nor could she
summon worry for any beastie that might leap out from the shadows at
her. In truth, a tiny niggling at encountering further outcasts from
the Netherdred did
Gossamyr?"
"Nay."
"Marvelous. Oh! Er, fine. Just fine."
Now he understood. Mince sought Gossamyr.
"I'm out to the yard."
"What for?"
"Oh? To check...for something. Erm, the peacocks must be
shooed from the roses."
"She is gone, Mince."
"She?" The matron paused by the door, turning to him
with delicate fingers curled into one another. "Who, Lord
Wintershinn?"
"Gossamyr has gone to the Otherside."
"No, I—I just saw her. I'm sure she's here somewhere,
swinging from the roots—I'll start there, my lord. She never
disappears for overlong."
"I sent her."
Mince gaped, seeming to momentarily choke on her own breath.
"W-why? How?" she breathed. "Did you...tell her
everything?"
"She seeks the Red Lady. I sent her through a Passage. You
know her truth will keep her from returning to me."
"Oh! But she needs to know! You've sent her to face the very
woman— Oh, dear."
SIX
Forgoing the village of Aparjon for what Ulrich claimed to be
another not three leagues to the east, the duo plodded through
unmarked grasses and followed a low rabbit-ravaged hedgerow for some
distance until a narrower, lesser traveled road attracted them. There
were no trees as far as she could see. The world was very silent.
Eerily so.
Ulrich called ahead to Gossamyr. "We should seek shelter for
the night, 'tis nearing matins."
"You don't think we'll make the village?"
"Likely not."
Sensing the man's exhaustion, Gossamyr conceded. "Very well."
Tugging Ulrich's cloak about her shoulders seemed to hold the
crumbling pourpoint together. She hoped. She had dismounted earlier
and now walked, finding the exercise more fitting than joggling along
on the miserable old mule. She sensed the beast tread alongside the
Infernal, and did not wish to put more of a burden on it than
necessary.
The fetch preceded her at a clever distance. She had ever thought
fetches only recorded noteworthy events. Mayhap Shinn missed her as
much as she was beginning to miss him? To have the fetch follow her
at all times?
Miss her father? It had been but part of a day.
The only thing she missed right now was the illumination of Faery.
This mortal night clung to Gossamyr on all sides. Crickets chirped
and unseen rodents scampered along the grassy borders of the rutted
path. She could not see Ulrich for the gloom, but judged him less
than twenty paces behind her.
His suggestion to stop was not entirely unwarranted. She did feel
the strain of her journey tug at the muscles in her calves and
shoulders. Yet the struggle to stride freely while keeping the cloak
wrapped—blight!
Gossamyr dropped the ends of the cloak and let the sweeping fabric
dangle. If her garments were to fall off, then so shall it be. For
she wanted to skip, to revel in this atmosphere that welcomed like a
warm embrace.
"Oh, Hades, be gone."
Gossamyr smirked at Ulrich's hissed remark. The man had babbled
most of the way. He had a strange compulsion to compare things, or
rather label them as either "the same" or "not the
same." She could not figure what he was about. But she had to
confess, having a companion eased a bit of her growing discomfort.
Alone in a new land. Physically capable, but...her thoughts had begun
to return to a place of safety.
She missed Mince. The matron was ever there, a companion, a
confidante. A willing foil when Shinn would question Gossamyr's day,
and she had snuck off to tournament. And always there to bring her
whatever she may request, to know before Gossamyr spoke her need.
Spoiled? Never before had she heard that term to describe one who
is given all she needs. Such as a lady who travels with a caged
faery in tow?
Hmm...not like that. Nor did she smell.
An eerie feeling of disquiet shimmied about Gossamyr's body. It
wasn't as though she were frightened by the darkness. Nor could she
summon worry for any beastie that might leap out from the shadows at
her. In truth, a tiny niggling at encountering further outcasts from
the Netherdred did
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