Lovers' Veil

"I've wanted to do that since I calmed down after finding you spying on me. You frightened me badly at first. But since...you're all I can think about."

"You're all I've been able to think of," he replied.

"Can this wait?" Aspen asked. "We need to go!"

"He's right," Leofrick said. "We'll talk later."

"Yes," she said, giving him a smile, "we will talk."

Rhyannon grabbed up one of the fallen crystal swords, dropped by a dead guard. Together, she and her rescuers slipped from the cell and into the corridor beyond. They had only gone a few steps when a quartette of attorcroppes rushed them. She and Leofrick slaughtered them, each killing two, as Aspen darted behind them for protection. When the four attorcroppes lay dead at their feet, she sent the pixie on ahead to scout the way. As Aspen darted off, Leofrick turned to her.

"The crystal swords actually work?"

"Of course," she answered, confused.

"I saw guards outside armed with them. I thought they were just for show."

"No. We can't use iron. The mere touch of it sickens anything native to this side of the Veil to the point of death." As she spoke, she cast a pointed look at his blade. "We have to use other things. The crystal swords are grown and fashioned quite well for their use."

"Your swords are grown?"

She grinned as they made their way along the hall after the pixie. "Yes, in vast underground crystal gardens. When they're the proper length, they're harvested and honed by master blade shapers for use. We'll speak later. For now, it's best if we were silent."

He nodded and walked by her side, making sure his sword stayed well away from her. Soon, they reached a small inset door that Rhyannon had not even known about.

"This is how you got inside?" she asked.

Leofrick returned her astonishment with a wide grin. "Yes. I live in this same castle on my own side of the Veil. While Aspen and I were trying to figure out how to get inside I remembered being shown drawings of the castle by my father years ago. He pointed out all the ways in so I would know them in case a need arose."

He opened the door and peeked out. Aspen flew through the opening, then came back, waving them ahead.

"This door has ever been used that I know of," she said as he motioned for her to proceed him.

He followed her out, carefully closing the hidden door after them. "It's not used by my family, either."

He turned and took three steps in the direction of Gnomehearth Forest before she stopped him with a hand on his arm.

"No," she said quietly. "I've gotten away twice and gone that way both times. Both times I was caught quickly." She pointed in the opposite direction, toward the distant, unseen coast. "This way. When we reach the coast, we'll find a boat and go out to the Seafeather Islands. We'll be safe there."

He paused, puzzled for a moment before understanding lit his handsome features. "On my side of the Veil we call that chain the Wind's Lee Islands. I'm not sure we should go there."

Aspen flitted between them, saying, "I agree with the Prince. There's no need to risk the merfolk."

"Merfolk?" Leofrick asked.

"They're all over between the coast and the islands," Aspen told him.

Hefting her crystal weapon, Rhyannon turned west and set out, saying, "We'll have to risk it." Leofrick fell into step with her, Aspen flying around them in darting loops. "Leurre will think we've gone to Gnomehearth since that's the way I've gone twice before. I hope that's what he'll think, anyway. This way is safer."

"I don't like this," Aspen said.

"I've chosen our course," she said, voice cool. "We're going to the Seafeather Islands."

"Why are you so afraid of the merfolk?" Leofrick asked the pixie. "We have stories of them on my side of the Veil. They seem harmless unless you believe the stories of them using their siren songs and beauty to force ships to run up on the rocks."

Aspen's tiny nose wrinkled. "Beauty? Merfolk?"

Leofrick nodded.

"You humans have some odd stories," Aspen said. "Merfolk are hideously ugly and nasty. They're stupid, pale, blubbery things. They don't sing, either. Unless you count their mournful wailing. When they do speak, their language is harsh and full of grunts. They sound like hogs in a rut!"

The Prince's expression made it clear that he was appalled by what he was hearing. "That's very different from what I've heard."

Aspen snorted. "Like I said, you humans have some odd stories. Me, I'll not be going to the coast. I'm sorry, Princess. I'll go back and do what I can to cover your escape. I'll be of more use to you that way."

Rhyannon kept walking, not breaking stride, but turned her head to look at the pixie. "You may be right. Thank you again for helping to free me. You won't be forgotten."

"By me, either," Leofrick assured him. "I couldn't have done it without you, Aspen."

The pixie turned and darted back the way they had come. Rhyannon continued on, Leofrick at her side, across the grassy plains.

Chapter 11

Prince Leofrick Wykeham walked with Rhyannon, following her lead as she led him through the vast grasslands. The geography was the same as on his own side of the Veil. He knew where he was, but deferred to her. He carefully kept his sword sheathed in its scabbard. She walked on his opposite side, keeping as much distance between herself and the offending iron as possible. Her own crystal sword was held in a lose grip, relaxed yet ready.

Much as he enjoyed the sight of her completely, unabashedly nude, he found it odd how she walked along, seemingly oblivious to her lack of clothing. He, fully-dressed, was more ill at ease with her nudity than she herself was. Under other circumstances, he would have been hard pressed not to ogle her as they walked. Yet he found that when he looked at her, he carefully maintained eye contact, lest his gaze stray down to rove her lithe form in all its nude glory.

As they walked, Leofrick and Rhyannon talked, getting to know each other, sharing details of their individual lives. He found quickly that, in spite of the differences, life in Faerie was a great deal like life on his own side of the Veil. The beings here, she told him, mostly wanted to be left alone to live their own lives in their own way. Some were wealthy and lived lives of ease and leisure. Others were not so well off and fought for every morsel of food. Most, she told him, were good and decent, while others were just the opposite.

The single biggest difference in their lives, he soon discovered, was their families. While neither had siblings, he had both parents while she had only her father, her mother having been claimed by illness years before. His parents loved him dearly and went out of their way to keep him safe and sheltered much as they were able. Her father, on the other hand, cared little for her, it seemed, before Leurre came along. Now, under the influence of the changeling, King Oakenmace Ensorcelledlight had turned his back on his only child completely. None of Rhyannon's attempts to reach him had succeeded; he remained firmly under whatever spell Leurre had placed upon him. The King was now nothing more than a figurehead puppet with the changeling pulling the strings.

Leofrick saw her pain as she told him of these things. He took her hand and stopped walking, drawing her to a halt beside him. She did not pull her hand away. He looked down into her wide green eyes and saw that they swam with unshed tears. Lifting his free hand, he gently caressed her cheek. She blinked, sending tears rolling down her face. He wiped them away with his thumb before embracing her. He turned slightly, keeping his sheathed weapon far from her as possible. He forced his mind from the fact that she was completely devoid of clothing; the purpose of the hug was to comfort her, nothing more.

She held him back, clinging to him, crying softly, for a time. When she finally broke the embrace, she smiled up at him, wiping her eyes.

"Come," she said softly. "We must keep going. Leurre will be after us sooner or later. I hope for later, but expect sooner."

She began to walk again and he fell into step at her side. When he reached to take her hand again, she allowed it. They walked in silence for a time before she spoke again.

"You looked through the Veil and saw me. That should have been impossible. How did it happen?"

He thought for several moments. "I don't know. I was hunting with my personal guard and several others. I went off alone and heard you singing. I followed the sounds and found you."

Her laughter was clear and bright. "You frightened me badly."

"I'm sorry. I didn't mean to."

She waved away the apology. "I've seen very few humans in my life. None were able to see through the Veil as you did." She fell quiet before asking, "How did you cross through to find me?"

"I was in my chambers and saw you in my mirror. You were crying. You were speaking, but there was no sound. Still, I was able to read your lips well enough to make out some of what you were saying. I figured out that you were from Faerie and needed my help. I went back to the spot where I had first seen you, searching for a way through the Veil. I stepped into a faerie ring and thought of going to you. And here I am."

She looked up at him with a bright smile. "You do realize that we share the same chambers, only on different sides of the Veil?"

"Yes. I'm guessing we both have the same mirror, too."

"So it would seem."

Again, they proceeded in silence. They held hands and went along at a steady, easy pace. Leofrick tried not to think of the pursuit she was so sure would be after them.

Elves. Pixies. Faeries. Changelings. What else might be here? What might come for us?

"When we reach the coast," Rhyannon said, breaking into his thoughts, "we'll turn north and follow the coastline for a few miles until we reach a small harbor town called Saltlea. When we get there, we'll find a boat to take us out to the Seafeather Islands. When we reach the islands, we'll plan our next move."

He nodded, agreeing readily. Yet Aspen's warnings to him about what happened to humans who spent too much time in Faerie echoed in his mind.

"Before Aspen and I got you out of the castle," he said slowly, "he warned me about something."

"What's that?"

"He told me that humans don't belong in Faerie."

"You don't."

"He said that humans who stay here too long have trouble going home."

"Yes," she said softly. "Tell me...which side of the Veil do you prefer?"

Continuing to walk with her, holding her hand, he looked around. He knew the grasslands and plains they crossed. Here, in Faerie, the grasses were more lush and vibrant. The sky overhead glowed a shade of intense blue that he had never seen before. The air was clear and clean, carrying only the sweet scents of the grasses and flowers, rather than the sharp tang of wood smoke from cottage cook fires that he was used to.

"This one," he said honestly.

She nodded, looking up at him. "You see? It's already taking hold of you. But don't worry. We'll be fine. We've time yet before you find yourself completely unwilling or unable to leave."

He shoved his doubts aside, deferring to her judgment. Changing the subject, he asked about the town she had named as their destination.

"I don't remember a settlement in that location," he said.

"Not every detail is the same on this side of the Veil," she explained. "The people are different, as you know. But so are a lot of other things. For something to be anchored on both sides of the Veil, it must have been in place for a long, long time. Centuries, at the very least. For something to be on both sides of the Veil, it must be in place for so long that it connects completely with the Earth, taking root in it. The castle we live in is a prime example. The stone that was quarried to build it is far older than the castle itself. It was part of the Earth for centuries before being used to build the castle. Since being built, the castle has stood for centuries more. The mirror we both share was carved and assembled at the same time and has sat in the same place in the castle for all this time. That great age, and that length of time spent in the same place, allows both to exist on both sides of the Veil. Understand?"

He nodded. "I think so. I can't help but wonder how many other such places exist on both sides of the Veil."

"Not many, if any. Very few things made by man or faerie are that old or have been in one place for so long. I know of no other places that exist in both our worlds that aren't natural, made by the gods and goddesses themselves."

Shouting, mingled with the sounds of baying dogs and galloping hooves, interrupted their talk. The noises were distant, but rapidly approaching. Leofrick turned to see a dust cloud near the horizon. The mass of flying grit was headed in their direction.

At his side, Rhyannon turned with him, gasping. "Aspen wasn't able to keep them from coming after us. And they found our trail faster than I'd hoped. Come on!"

She gripped his hand tighter and broke into a run. He ran with her, not letting go of her small fingers.

"I hadn't expected Aspen to be able to do much, anyway," Leofrick said. "He's only one being. And a very small one at that."

"Size has no meaning," Rhyannon said, already breathing hard in her panic. "Pixie glamours are powerful. But Leurre is a changeling. His kind are masters of deceptions of all kinds. He probably saw right through whatever glamour Aspen wove to hide our escape!"

They ran on, Rhyannon nearly dragging Leofrick with her in her haste. Behind them, the sounds of pursuit grew steadily closer. Around them, the landscape began to change. Sweeping grasslands slowly tapered out, replaced by uneven, rocky terrain.

Gasping for breath, Leofrick glanced back. Their pursuers were close enough now to be seen more clearly. He was startled to see that a small army was coming at them. The riders looked to be a mix of elves and the snake things he had been told were attorcroppes, clad in flowing dark silk and crystal armor that glinted in the sun. Something taller and bent rode front and center.

Leurre! That has to be the changeling.

The mounts were small, ponies if they were on the human side of the Veil. Dogs, nearly as large as the horses, raced along, intermingled with the riders. Paws and hooves stirred up a churning mass of dust that swept out behind and to both sides of the group.

"We're going to have to fight," he told her.

"No. Not if we can go just a bit further."

He looked ahead and saw nothing but rocky landscape, broken here and there by boulders and shattered stone all the way to the coast.

"There's nothing there!" he lamented.

"Trust me," she said, voice harsh, lungs heaving as they ran.

After a short time, she shifted direction slightly, yanking him along with her. Not long after, she came to a stop at the edge of a narrow hole in the ground. Both took huge, bellowing gasps of air, trying to catch their breath. Leofrick stared at the hole, uncomprehending for long moments, winded, trying to figure out her plan. Then it hit him and he knew where they were.

"Gray Wind Blowhole!" he shouted. "I know this place."

Still panting, she said, "It's known as Undine's Glory on this side of the Veil. Climb down. We haven't much time." As she spoke, she cast an uncertain look at the approaching army and dropped her crystal sword into the opening. It chimed as it struck outcroppings of rock, tumbling deeper into the ground.

Climb in! She's crazy!

He glanced in the direction she was looking, saw their pursuers riding quickly at them and unbuckled his belt and scabbard. Dropping them, along with his sword, into the hole, he began to climb.

The stone was slick, damp with moisture and covered in algae. He took great care not to slip. Dimly, his own body blocking most of the light to the hole, he could see the narrow, lopsided cylindrical shaft that stretched away below.

"I'm coming down, too," Rhyannon told him when he'd only gone a few feet.

With both of them in the duct, the sunlight was all but completely blocked. Leofrick had trouble seeing and his fear of slipping grew with each passing moment.

Above him, he heard Rhyannon hiss sharply and asked if she was alright.

"I just scrapped myself on the rock. Keep going!"

Leofrick had his clothing to protect him from some of the jagged edges of the stone through which they climbed. She had no clothing. He winced each time he heard her sharp intake of breath, wishing for a way to alleviate her pain.

Finally, he found himself stepping onto a stone shelf that jutted out from the back of a small, open cavern, still several yards above the seawater below. Light filtered in through the opening before him, allowing him to clearly see the green-gray ocean water as it foamed, waves striking the stone. The air was damp and chilly, filled with salt spray. He was glad for the fact that the shelf he stood upon was wide enough to keep him from standing at the very edge.

Rhyannon joined him shortly thereafter, worming her way through the final feet of the flue and into the small, open chamber. Her nude body was covered with small scrapes and cuts. Tiny rivulets of red blood trailed from several. He stared at her blood, amazed at its color, so like his own.

Hugging herself against the clammy, chill air, she asked, "What's wrong?"

Unlacing his shirt, he said, "Nothing. I'm just surprised to see that your blood is red."

"Why?" She frowned as she asked it. "Because I'm not human?"

Removing his shirt, he said, "Yes. I'm sorry. I didn't know what to expect. I-"

She held up a hand, touching cold fingers to his lips. "Shhh. I know. This is all very strange for me, too."

He nodded, falling silent, draping his shirt over her slim shoulders, wrapping her in it. She was small enough, and his shirt large enough, that the garment fell to her knees.

She caught the shirt, clutching it to her, smiling brightly at him. "Thank you, Leofrick."

"You're welcome."

She puzzled over the shirt, touching it. "This feels very odd. Usually when I bother to wear clothing I only wear the sheerest silk. I've never worn anything like this."

"It'll help keep you warm down here." As he spoke, he drew her against him.

Her delicate hands came up, caressing his back. Her fingernails dragged gently over his skin. He felt his body responding to her touch and held her tighter, wanting her, needing her. The memory of her lips on his own, as she kissed him before, played in his mind and he wanted to kiss her again.

Before he could move, the sounds of clip-clopping hooves and barking dogs echoed down from above. An instant later, the light was blocked.

"Climb back up here. Now," a low, dry voice called.

"Leurre!" Rhyannon hissed, frightened.

"It's okay," Leofrick soothed.

She craned her neck, looking back up the natural stone chimney they had climbed down. "Leurre, go away! Take your guards and return to my father. Then both of you go rot in the halls of the Unseelie Court where you belong!"

"Your father is King," the changeling called back. "His wishes are law and must be obeyed. His wish is for you and I to be wed. Climb back up here to me."

"No! I've already told you that I'll die before marrying you."

Her words sent a chill through the Prince that had nothing to do with the cold, damp air. He held her tighter, clutching her to him.

"If I must," Leurre countered, "I'll send guards down after you to drag you out of that hole."

Leofrick leaned his own head back, looking up at the shadowed form that he knew had to be the changeling peering down at them from above.

"Anyone, or anything, trying to come down here after us," Leofrick called, "will die by my hand." As he spoke, he eased Rhyannon away from him. Kneeling, he picked up his belt and scabbard, buckling them on. He drew his sword and held it high, the tip of the broad blade aimed at Leurre. "Recognize this?"