Gwen ventured down the familiar steps, her heart beating heavily in a rhythm she was sure felt familiar. She noticed that the great silver table that had been there the last time she visited was still there, still unfinished. Some of it had been inlayed with gems in a multitude of colors, but it appeared that the tools to finish it had been abandoned long ago.
�Gemma?� She asked timidly into the cavernous space. There was no reply, so she trekked further in. The mound was a warm and toasty cocoon. There was a delicious smell drafting through the malleable walls, like vanilla cookies and hot cocoa, mixed to the point of intoxication. She looked fore and aft, but it appeared completely deserted at this level.
She stepped through the first wall, unsure of herself but stumbled into a great room with a crackling fireplace and merry laughter ringing from the corners. There were fey all about the room, dancing, eating and making merry. She stood on the perimeter unaware of how strange this might look to someone truly on the outside. The fey part of herself was so taken up with the jolliness that the human part had nearly forgotten why she had come in the first place.
Gemma spotted her from the other side of the room and rushed over to her. She pulled her back into the first room and Gwen�s head began to clear immediately. She shook it dazedly, surprised that the sounds and smells were now muffled and that she could think plainly once again.
�You�ve changed.� Said her great-great-grandmother, observing her as one would a show dog. Gwen was surprised by the cool appraisal and meant to voice her indignation but she had more important business. She made a hurried apology for not having come sooner and explained her errand.
�Yes, he has been wandering about for days now.�
�Do you know why?�
�Who knows the mind of a human better than another human? His reasons are unclear to me.� Gemma replied.
�Do you know where he is now?�
�Not currently. He is in the forest. I�m sure you can find him from that much information.�
Something had definitely changed in the way the old faerie regarded the young woman before her. Gwen felt an icy pain in her heart, as if Gemma cared so little she could stab her. She understood the urgency of finding Dumbledore, but she wanted this cleared up before she left the mound again.
�What�s wrong?� She asked.
�Nothing�s wrong dear.�
�No, something�s wrong.� Gwen looked at her with defiance in her light brown eyes.
�I will tell you again nothing�s wrong.�
�Ok, then what�s changed.�
�Ah, now I think we can get somewhere.�
Gwen looked at the older fey with deep scrutiny. Her brow crinkled, her right eyebrow cocked, her lip pursed to the left all made for a funny picture, but neither woman felt like laughing.
�Sit.� Gemma said, as a chair appeared under her bottom. Gwen sat reluctantly and folded her hands in her lap demurely. She looked the very picture of a lady. �I have spoken to the Stag King since your last visit to us. He has informed me of some things that I hardly feel qualified to relay, but you must know that it changes the nature of our relationship.�
�Well I know now.� Gwen interrupted pointedly.
�Yes, of course. The truth is you just don�t belong to us anymore.�
�Us as in the fey?�
�Us as in the sellie. You are unsellie through and through.�
Gwen shook her head, squinting her eyes and trying to make sense of what had just been said. �I�m unsellie?�
�Which would explain why the King took such an interest in you.�
�Yeah I guess.� Gwen said. �But if I�m unsellie that means that Henry LeFey��
�Was not your father, as you�ve been suspecting for awhile now.�
�You didn�t know?�
�No, but I can see it now. It shines through your very skin.�