The faeries watched in silence as she approached, and Khiara bowed her head in an effort to appear deferential. They would want her to fail, to serve out the punishment they felt she deserved by living among them and giving up the life she enjoyed in the mortal world. Her penalty would be to help them add to their numbers, until she no longer served Ronan’s purposes. It was not a thought she relished.
Even though this area was greener than the forest, it still had the gray pall over it that made it so very different from the mortal world to which she was accustomed. Other than that, the Otherworld seemed more or less normal based on her human standards. There was far less wildlife, however the earth, trees, and sky were all fairly similar to what one would see in the mortal realm.
Khiara made her way swiftly through the village, trying to ignore the discomfort she felt as a result of the attention she was receiving from the faeries. They had paused in their work to watch her travel by and she could feel their earthy magick tingling around her. It was life encouraging and nurturing. They were using it to sustain and increase their crops. The sensation was very different from the dark magick that Ronan exuded, and the sensual energy that Liam radiated. She realized that Liam’s was a fire magick, akin to her own. Maybe that’s why I was immune to his glamour, she thought. Our energies must be attuned to one another's.
As she pondered this, she also realized she was feeling back to normal. That sense of everyone staring at her faded with each step. She glanced back to see that she was just outside the village and the unfriendly faeries had returned to their work. Silently, she offered a prayer to whatever deity might be listening – her own or any other – for their good health and an abundant harvest.
Sighing with relief at surviving yet another unnerving ordeal, Khiara continued to walk until she came to a crossroads. The statue of a fae woman stood there, with four faces that looked in each of the cardinal directions. The gray stone looked as if someone had carved it recently, yet the moss that crept up the base told her the statue had been there for a long time; possibly for eons, with only the barest sign of aging thanks to the faerie magick of the Otherworld. She could feel the vibration of earthy energy around it, possibly emanating from the very stone itself.
“It looks in the different directions, almost like Hecate,” she murmured as she reached out to touch the statue.
“I would ask you to keep your hands to yourself,” came an indignant-sounding voice.
“Oh, I’m so sorry!” Khiara withdrew her hand as if she had been scalded, then looked up at the statue. “Did you just say something?”
“Of course I did.” The brow of the matronly face that looked down at her creased with disapproval. “What sort of manners do they teach you mortals?” the statue asked.
Khiara felt as though she should curtsy, and so she did. “They don’t teach us any manners whatsoever,” she responded, feeling absurd, yet contrite at the same time.
“That’s very clear young lady, especially when you go around trying to kill faeries.”
“Now really,” said a gentler voice on the left side of the statue. “You know that no faerie should ever force himself on a woman, no matter how dire the need for children. There is no excuse for Ronan’s actions.”
“Don’t you start,” responded the face that was still looking at Khiara reproachfully.
Khiara took a step to the left to see that the speaker was another face of the statue, one that looked younger and a bit friendlier. “I beg your pardon,” Khiara said, curtsying to that face. “But is that one of the laws of the faerie? That they don’t force themselves on humans?”
“Not exactly,” said the younger face. “But it just isn’t done, if you know what I mean. To glamour a human is one thing. Physical violation is another and unacceptable. No man, faerie or mortal, should do such a thing to another person, and some of us are quite glad you stood up for yourself. You have a right to personal and physical dignity.”
“I quite agree,” chimed in a third voice. Khiara moved to look at the third side of the statue, which appeared much older than the other two visages. “A female has every right to defend herself, though she shouldn’t have to. A man should know better.”
Khiara curtsied and said, “I agree, ma’am.”
“Like humans, faeries are all very different,” the older face told her. “Some are quite gentle and others are more forceful.”
“True,” said the first face – the face of the mother, Khiara realized. “Faerie men are as likely as mortal men to be turned on by the chase, or to be aggressive with women. Faeries aren’t all sweetness and glitter, young lady. The things they teach mortals about faeries are simply ridiculous. You as a Witch should certainly know better.”
Khiara held her tongue. She had never underestimated Ronan; if anything, she knew his faerie powers made him far more formidable than any human man. “Excuse me, but could you tell me if one of these roads will lead me to Ronan’s palace?”
“Indeed, one of them will,” responded the face of the crone.
“Will it get me home?”
“That will depend,” said the crone. “Do you want it to?”
“I certainly do,” Khiara answered and, once again, her eyes filled with tears.
“Then it might. But as the outcome is not entirely dependent upon your actions, I cannot say.”
“Perhaps the enchantress can say,” the maiden side suggested in her sweet, encouraging tones.
“Perhaps she ought to take care of herself,” the mother side answered, sounding far huffier than the other sides of the statue. “Let her learn her own lesson. Not that knocking the prince down a few pegs is necessarily a bad thing,” the stone grumbled.
“Don’t mind her,” the crone said, giving Khiara a wink. “She’s just angry on principle. Enchantress?” she called out. “Will you awaken?”
Khiara wiped away her tears and walked around to the fourth side of the statue. On this side, a veil covered the face, but she curtsied out of respect nonetheless.
“I do not see your liberation from the Otherworld,” the voice, muffled by its covering, intoned.
“Is it that there is no love for her in the mortal realm, or that the one who loves her does not know that she is here?” the crone asked.
“The one who loves her knows that she is here, but is not capable of liberating her from the Otherworld.”
Khiara had been holding her breath, hoping to hear that someone was seeking her. There was the wildest, most illogical hope in her heart that the enchantress would describe a vision of Sean.
“All of my friends must know that I’m here by now,” she said. “But I hardly expect them to be able to help me in any way. Thank you for looking into it.” She glanced at the road and realized she had a long journey ahead, if she decided to continue walking.
“I can offer you this,” the enchantress said. “Your strength has brought you this far. Let it continue to guide you.”
Khiara pressed her lips together and said nothing as she scuffed the toe of her shoe in the dirt of the path.
“Poor child, do not give up hope,” said the crone. “Keep in mind that time in your world and in this world passes very differently.”
Khiara walked back to look up at her. “What do you mean?”
“A day here is but a moment in your world. To them, you only just disappeared. It may take time before they realize the extent of what has happened.”
“You… you mean that my nine days here could pass without anyone back home even having a chance to try to find me?”
“That is quite possible.”
At the crone’s words, Khiara felt wearier than she had the evening before. “Your help has been invaluable,” she told the statue, bowing her head and looking at the path.
“If it helps,” said the maiden, “my path leads to the fields and orchards. Perhaps you would rather occupy yourself pleasantly there.”
“Mine leads to the cemeteries and groves,” said the crone. “That i
s where you will find the mysteries of life and death.”
“Mine leads back the way you came,” said the mother.
“Mine leads to Prince Ronan’s kingdom. Travel it if you dare,” challenged the enchantress.
With a nod, Khiara answered, “I am grateful to all of you for your assistance.” She shouldered her bag and turned down the middle path, to continue toward a destiny that one person had chosen for her; a destiny she intended to continue to fight.
****
“What exactly are we supposed to do?” Sean asked as he held the phone to his ear and stared in horror at Cate.
“We have no idea,” Felisa said into the receiver.
“Well, we have something that we have tried,” Cate told Sean. “It didn’t work for us, but now that you’re here, maybe you could try it.”
****
For the second night in a row, Khiara slept on the hard ground. This time she realized how lonely she felt. Liam had kept her company during that first night, but he had not returned after her harsh words to him. Even though she hardly trusted the faerie, his presence had made her feel at least somewhat safe. Despite the fact that he was probably just as troublesome as any other magickal creature, at least she had not been completely alone in this alien world last night. The stillness of the Otherworld was unnatural and disconcerting. She was accustomed to the sound of traffic passing by her house, of the breeze whispering past her bedroom window, of the occasional conversation drifting up through the screen as people walked down Main Street.
She stared up at the sky, wondering if the half-moon glowing down from the inky darkness was the same moon she saw in her world. The stars in the Otherworld were incredibly bright without city lights to obscure their crystalline glow. The silvery, diamond-like winking of each one lent the entire sky a luminosity that was far warmer than the desolate landscape she saw during the day. It had been a while since Khiara had been able to appreciate the beauty of the cosmos.
At that moment, she thought she heard the sound of faerie song pulsing gently through the trees. The flute-like music was beautiful, and somehow wholly soothing to her tired body, mind, and spirit.
As her eyes closed, she wondered how she could have accused anybody capable of making such hauntingly lovely music of being heartless.
****
The morning dawned bright and gloriously warm. Khiara stretched, feeling surprisingly well rested. Despite the hard ground, she had slept deeply and dreamlessly. She stood, her body betraying none of the aches she had expected after two nights of sleeping on the ground, and picked up her bag. The memory of last night’s melody brought a smile to her face. Although the path before her seemed long, she faced it with a new resolve, undeterred from her quest.
“The enchantress said to let my strength be my guide,” she muttered. “So that’s what I’ll do.”
She dug into her bag and found her MP3 player and earbuds.
“The wonders of modern mortal technology,” she said, finally smiling for the first time in two Faerie days. She turned on the music and the hard rock pinging from the earbuds lifted her spirits even more. She felt like it was possible to beat anything in her way, including the terms of her imprisonment.
Sticking the MP3 player in her pocket, Khiara lifted her chin and quickened her pace along the winding path.
****
“So I just say these words and I’ll be able to find her?” Sean asked Cate, looking dubiously at the paper she had handed him.
“I have no idea,” she answered with a shrug. “A guy I dated a few weeks ago gave it to me just out of the blue. He said I would need it. Felisa and I both tried using the ritual, but it didn’t bring us to wherever Khiara has gone.”
“Well, what are the rules?” Sean asked. “I mean, shouldn’t the person who does this be blood or family, or one of you witches?”
“It has to be somebody that really wants to find her,” Cate said emphatically, glaring at Sean. “Of course we really want to find her, but apparently that isn’t enough for the fey. You’re supposedly her best friend, but if you don’t want to find her…” She reached for the paper.
“Of course I want to find her!” Sean snatched his hand away from her searching grasp. “I can’t imagine living without her!” He took a deep breath and read the words aloud. Blinking, he looked up and asked, “Did it work?”
Chapter 9
As the third night began to fall, Khiara realized she needed to find a place to sleep. The path had gone from a bumpy forest trail to a hard, worn road. She could see the murky forest to the west of the road, as wretched and twisted as ever. Before her to the north, where the path slowly wound ahead and a little to the right, then just over a hill, there were the spires of some distant architecture, looking much too far away. At her back, to the south, were the rolling fields she had passed through over the course of the past day. To the east of the road she saw tall green grasses indicative of swamplands or coastal terrain. The entire landscape was wild and seemed largely uninhabited, with the exception of the small village through which she had passed.
Despite the forsaken territory, the road appeared well traveled. It was dry, and free of grass or moss. There were fresh ruts from wheeled vehicles and horses’ hooves.
With a sigh of fatigue, Khiara stopped dead in her tracks and considered collapsing then and there to the ground, when a noise distracted her from musing. She had shoved her MP3 player in her bag hours ago, tired of listening to her play list when it started the second time.
She heard the sound again and realized it was an animal growl. Turning to look to her left, she saw five white wolves emerging from the forest.
“Oh shit,” she muttered under her breath, taking an involuntary step back.
Many of the fey had already told her the journey would have its challenges, though that really went without saying. She had not realized it would actually be dangerous, even deadly. The southern forest had seemed complete devoid of life as she traveled through it. Apparently the western forest is a bit livelier, she thought frantically as she backed away from the wolves.
Since they continued to advance, she stopped and stood as still as possible, despite the overwhelming instinct to run. Her eye searched the ground for something to use as a weapon. There was nothing in her bag, except the usual things she carried out of the house. She could hardly swing a bag containing a wallet, lip balm, and sunglasses at them, with the belief that it would deter them from attacking her. Still, she thought, it might buy her time, or at least keep them from getting too close to her.
With exaggeratedly slow motions, she reached up to lift the strap off her shoulder and over her head, and then wound the strap through her hands. Gripping it tightly, she took another cautious step backward. The wolves rumbled low in their throats as they stalked her.
“I don’t want to hurt you,” she said soothingly, “anymore than I want you to hurt me.” Part of her hoped that these animals of faerie would understand, but they only stepped toward her, padding on soft feet with deadly intent.
For each step they took forward, she took another one delicately back. Their growls told her that they were clearly hostile. She did not want to provoke an attack, but she figured it was inevitable no matter what. The idea of whacking them with the messenger bag didn’t seem like a good idea anymore. She decided she would try to put as much distance as possible between herself and the pack, but she still held the bag before her.
Their growling grew louder, and the closest wolf barked and snapped at her. Khiara braced herself to fight them off. Her heart pounded wildly in her chest as she stared back at them.
A rush of air in front of her took her aback for a moment. She prepared to swing, raising her other arm to protect her throat.
The wolf had not leapt.
Someone had darted in front of her to stand between them.
“Liam!” she gasped.
“They aren’t animals of faerie. They don’t have any more intelligence than you or I do. T
hey are from your world.”
“What are they doing here?” she asked him, her eye still on the advancing wolves despite the barrier between her and the danger.
“Humans aren’t the only ones who stumble through the gates. Animals can get lost and end up in the Otherworld too. We try to treat any creatures from the mortal world with care, especially those that humans try to hunt to extinction. We feed them and make them our friends. These are newly come to this world and have not yet learned that they have nothing to fear.”
With a subtle wave of his hand, Liam worked his faerie magic, the pulse of which Khiara immediately felt attuned to once more. Its beauty and intensity, poetry and power brought an answering flare of energy and magick within her.
Its harmonious resonance also reminded her of the good times she had known with Ronan. In the mortal world, while cloaked in glamour, faeries emitted pleasing vibrations and energies, calculated to appeal to humans. For so long, she had no idea of Ronan’s true nature, until that night. It was when his shadowy magick had shattered the glamour that she had felt repelled by his essence.
The wolves raised their noses to the air and then ran down the road, past Liam and Khiara, who pressed herself against the faerie’s back as the predators dashed by.
It was several moments before Liam whispered, “They’re gone.”
“Where did they go?” she asked, looking down the road toward the south, her cheek pressed against the hollow between his shoulders. She had not felt so warm or relaxed since arriving in the Otherworld.
“They’ve gone toward the village. They will find food and friendship waiting there, and soon learn there is no need to hunt.”
Khiara realized how fortunate she was. “Thank–”
“Do not say it. To do so would incur debt. You know the implications of those words.” Liam did not turn to look at her, but instead began walking down the road, toward the kingdom to the north.
The Gossamer Gate Page 7