Clíodhna let out a deep sigh and threw her head back. Once again, she drew magic from the earth, trying to calm her heart and temper. Ita always just wanted to help. She must be kinder to her friend.
“I’m sorry, Ita. I know you’re trying to help, and you don’t deserve my angry words.”
“Don’t apologize. This can’t be easy to hear.”
Not easy in the slightest.
She spoke a few polite pleasantries to her friend and bustled her off, thanking her for the news. Now, however, she must plan on how to rescue the Fae without getting caught in Pátraic’s trap herself.
All that evening and well into the night, Clíodhna considered each option.
Confronting the angry mob would be the most dangerous and least likely to succeed. One lone woman against twenty grown men and an angry Abbot seemed very poor odds.
She might sneak in before they arrived and bring each Fae to safety, but even if she had a week’s notice, that wouldn’t be enough time. That little bend in the river was a delightful sanctuary and she’d moved several Fae there from the more peopled parts of the village already. At least a dozen Fae lived there now, and they didn’t move easily. Change required much argument, bribery, and cajoling for each of them.
Another option would be to gather help herself, but who else talked easily to the Fae? Etromma had some ability, but she didn’t use it much since she began attending the church. Donn never noticed the creatures, as far as she could tell. Ita would be too meek to try such a bold action. If Odhrán still lived in the abbey, she might call on his help, but he had moved far away to the north. Adhna had left and she daren’t call him back, not after the last time.
No, she’d have to deal with this mess herself. Perhaps if she convinced one Fae to move, the others would follow suit. Clíodhna had to at least try.
After asking Etromma and Donn to watch their father and Aileran, she dressed for the chilly night and stalked out of the roundhouse toward the river. The moon shone bright in the deep of the night, which helped her find the correct path. Birds slumbered under the velvet sky, but crickets sang as she marched along.
The first Fae she encountered skittered away as she entered the glade. Starlight flickered above as the wee creature hid behind a giant oak.
“Please, come out! I won’t harm you. I’m here to warn you of danger.”
Only a tinkling of the wind answered.
“You know me. We’ve met before. I helped move you here, remember?”
Another tinkling, this time stronger.
“Angry humans are coming with the dawn, They want to hurt you, but I can help bring you to safety. Will you come?”
Silence answered her urging, but behind her, something snapped.
Clíodhna whirled, expecting Pátraic. Instead, another Fae stood in the moonlight, a gossamer wisp of a woman. “You must come! He is in danger!”
Confused, Clíodhna furrowed her brow. “He who?”
“The dark-haired one! He’s trapped, and we can’t free him! Come! Come!” The pale Fae faded from view, leaving only the whisper of light and the sound of tiny bells.
“Stones and crows! Where did you go?”
The bells sounded to her right, so she turned in that direction, taking several tentative steps. She glanced back at the oak tree, but the Fae must have fled when her attention had been elsewhere. Another few steps took her out of the glade and onto a path she’d not seen before.
She stepped on the path, peering around for any sign of the Fae woman. A faint glow ahead brought her forward. Pátraic couldn’t lay a trap like this. It must be a true call for help. Clíodhna crept forward, testing each step before placing her weight down. She progressed down the glinting path until she reached a new clearing.
This was a dark place, darker than the dead of night, darker than a pit in the well of the earth. As used to magic as Clíodhna had become, she’d never seen a place so devoid of the power of the earth. A dead spot, with no energy from earth, air, water, or fire. No spirit lived within the dirt. Dead trees surrounded a deep hole, their rattling branches entwined in a wicked tangle. This tangle covered the top of the pit in a cruel cage.
She shivered, unnerved by the ravaged land. The devastation curled into her bones, making her skin crawl. Nothing lived within this wasteland. Black tendrils of rot and desecration called to her with dissonant song.
If Pátraic sought something evil, this horrible place must be perfect. Maybe he had set this trap for her. He who seeks evil is much more likely to find it wherever he looks.
Clíodhna rubbed the goosebumps from her arms and peered into the murky pit. Despite the barren earth, something stirred inside the gloom. Someone moaned, a thready voice murmuring with pain and despair.
Her own voice quavered with fear. “Who… Who’s down there?”
* * *
An eternity later, a faint voice echoed in her mind. “Flee, Clíodhna!”
She spun, searching out the source, but the only person near lie in the bottom of that pit. “Who’s there?”
“Flee! Save yourself!”
She recognized Adhna’s voice, burdened with pain and fear. She’d never known him to exhibit fear. What could frighten such a powerful Fae? What had the power to trap him in such a place?
Her skin turned to ice as a hand fell upon her shoulder. Clíodhna spun, only to find the Fae woman who had lured her here. “Who are you? Did you set this trap?”
The pale woman smiled, her long tresses glittering with their own light. “I merely came to find you. Adhna needs your help.”
“Why me?”
“You are of him, as I am.”
Her confusion must have shown on her face, for the Fae woman continued. “He is my sire, and you carry his child within you. You are of him, as I am.”
Clíodhna placed a hand over her own belly, glancing between the Fae woman and the looming maw of the evil pit. With grim resolve, she steeled herself for the pain of pulling energy through dead earth.
Deep, deep into the soil she quested, pulling a bare tendril from the land beyond the dead zone. The energy resisted her call, snapping back before she could draw it further than a hands’ span. Again and again, she extracted the energy, each time gaining a little length. After her tenth attempt, she stopped to wipe the sweat from her brow. Despite the chilly night, her efforts left her panting.
Another pull, another snap back to the living earth. Frustration warred with determination and failure. Each snap whipped at her soul, making her whimper with surprised pain.
After she’d long lost count of her attempts, she touched the tendril of energy to Adhna’s hand, deep in the earth. He cried out, but not in pain this time. An exultation of joy and strength which turned to a sobbing grumble when it, too, snapped back to the living earth.
However, her one success just bolstered her fortitude. Clíodhna tried again and Adhna held onto the tendril this time. He pulled, yanking her from her own feet. She fell onto the dead earth, but the energy didn’t snap back. He drew it into himself, creating a lattice of energy to shield him from the evil blackness.
He climbed this lattice, step by step, out of the grim pit. When he reached the cage of dead branches, he raised his arms with a triumphant cry and shattered the desiccated limbs into a thousand pieces. The shards rained over them both as she hugged Adhna with gentle glee. His bones jutted through his thin body. He’d been starved of more than magic in his prison. Clíodhna worried she might snap him if she gripped too tight.
He held her at arms-length, searching her eyes. “Clíodhna, why didn’t you flee when I bade you to?”
“Did you truly expect me to leave my teacher to such a place?”
His eyes darted into the gloom surrounding them. “I suppose not. But we must leave. He could return.”
“He? Who did this to you?”
“Bodach.”
She shivered again at the sound of the bark-skinned Fae’s name. They hurried down the glinting path to the mortal fores
t glade at the bend of the river.
Dawn threatened in the east, and Clíodhna gasped, covering her mouth. “The Fae! The Abbot is coming here to kill them!”
Adhna’s eyes turned dark, glittering in the twilight. “How dare he do such a thing?”
She swallowed and turned to her lover. “He’s trying to trap me by hurting them.”
With a slow nod, his anger faded. “Very well. We’ll just have to take care of this before he arrives.”
He turned and cut the air with his hand. The air opened with fire, a line burning vertically where he drew his finger. Chittering behind her made Clíodhna turn, only to find five Fae watching Adhna.
She addressed the audience. “Who else lives here? We must run to safety, before the sun rises. Will you gather the others?”
They backed away several steps, but Adhna turned. “Listen to the human woman. I am making a passage into Faerie. You must escape.”
The closest Fae, a sídhe with knobbly green skin, bowed her head, fidgeting with her fingers. “But we live here. We are of this place. We can no easier move than our tree can.”
Adhna cut another line, perpendicular to the first, at the level of his head. Without turning from his task, he said. “My magic can move you safely, though it may hurt. However, waiting for what the other humans might do to you would be much more painful. You might even perish.”
She turned to another sídhe with white birchbark skin. “Go fetch our kin.”
A third line, parallel to the first, and then a fourth line as a threshold, formed a doorway. Clíodhna peered through the opening, but only saw a dim light, a light unlike the dawning sun behind it. This was a diffuse glow, as if a hundred candles had been scattered across the green, rolling hills. It flickered with life and magic. She shuddered in memory of the dead place, holding that flutter of light within her heart.
The birch sídhe arrived, with a line of Fae behind her. A tall, willowy water nymph, several rock gnomes, and a sprite stood in miserable caution, eyeing Clíodhna with suspicion and silence.
Adhna turned, his doorway complete. “Follow me. I will keep you safe and find you a home on the other side. You might not return to this world for some time, but you will be alive. Come, now.”
Clíodhna grasped his arm. “Wait, Adhna! What about you? Will you be back?”
His smile faded. “Tonight, I shall return. Wait for me by the stones.”
One by one, the Fae winked out of view into the fiery entrance. As each one disappeared, a bit of the magic of her world died. When the last one had gone, her heart felt smaller, somehow, as it had within that dead zone.
A clamor on the other side of the glade made her jump. Pátraic had arrived with his helpers. He swung a metal object with sweet-smelling smoke drifting from tiny holes, chanting in his harsh language. Another monk flung water from a small mallet, back and forth on either side of the path. Clíodhna snuck into the still misty trees, seeking the shelter and solace of the living things, and escaping the evil of men.
As she trudged home in the mid-morning fog, Oisinne’s cries reached her before she even saw the roundhouse. He screeched at the top of his lungs, the sound echoing in the mist. Etromma yelled back at him, telling him to shut his mouth and no one had hurt him.
Clíodhna considered leaving now and escaping to the stone circle, to spend her day in quiet solitude. She ached from the night’s magic and every muscle in her body felt like Oisinne had spent the night punching it. However, to leave her own daughter to mind her husband wouldn’t be fair. She forced herself to enter her chaotic home.
He’d gotten free of most of his ropes, but one still tangled around his leg. It worked as a tether, keeping him in a precise radius from the roof pillar near his bed. He struggled against the restraint, trying to pull it off by sheer strength, but the rope remained tight. The more he strove against it, in fact, the tighter the tangle became. Etromma and Donn stood just beyond his reach.
Donn held out a bowl of stew. More stew stained his face and clothing, so this must be his second attempt to offer food to Oisinne. Etromma held a fussing Aileran, bouncing him on her shoulder as she tried to calm their father down.
Her daughter spun and glared at her. “We needed you an hour ago! Where have you been?”
While bowing her head, Clíodhna closed her eyes. “Battle of another sort. I’m sorry to have left you to this. Go get some rest.”
With understandable anger, Etromma stomped out, taking the baby with her. Donn remained, though, and handed her the bowl. “Maybe you’ll have more luck getting him to eat.”
Clíodhna doubted it, but took the stew anyhow. “Go get some rest yourself. I’ll take care of him.”
As tired as she felt, she decided this crisis warranted practicing with the magic Adhna had showed her. Once all her children had left, she drew upon more magic. It resisted her, unwilling to come to her call. Had she injured her ability in the night, in that dead place? Maybe the power was a living, breathing thing with memory of pain.
Instead of drawing on the earth, she instead tried to draw on the air and water around her, pulling the calmness of a still lake into her mind. She couldn’t calm her husband if she didn’t remain calm herself. At least this, she knew how to do. Adhna had taught her as much.
Instead of pulling on the tempestuous power of the ocean, she drew on the calm lake, placid in the pre-dawn world. She breathed in and out, once, twice, three times. Measure heartbeats and closed eyes helped her concentrate, despite Oisinne’s continued ramblings. Clíodhna shut out external noises and concentrated on her own body. In and out, once, twice, three times. In and out.
Serenity suffused her, a sweet, beautiful tranquility. A serene, calm pond in the dawn. The countryside when covered with fresh snow. The pure quiet of a moonless night.
When Clíodhna opened her eyes, she pushed this pacific power through her hands and into her husband’s anarchic soul. She unruffled his muddled mind, pouring honey on his angry mental wounds. His frenzied rage ebbed into a deep slumber.
Drained, Clíodhna collapsed where she sat, in a pile of exhausted bones.
Her rest didn’t come with peace.
The dead place haunted her dreams. She ran through the lifeless woods, terrified of the dead limbs reaching for her, ripping her clothing and tangling her hair. Once, she stumbled, grabbing handfuls of dirt, but nothing lived within. No bugs, no beetles, no roots. Nothing but sterile soil, unable to sustain life.
The trees loomed over her, laughing in glee at her helplessness. Clíodhna struggled to claw her way from their reach, but the dirt just slipped between her fingers. She cried out, sobbing in frustration and panic.
A pale light glowed on the horizon. The light became a man, arms outstretched in supplication. She didn’t know this man, didn’t recognize his face, but his presence exuded peace and love.
His face shone and his hair seemed white. He drew her back into her beloved ocean, to swim amongst the fish and sea creatures. The figure calmed her with her childhood memories, an innocent time before the stress and danger took over her life. He reassured her by his very existence, and she fell into a less troubled slumber.
She woke to the sound of Aileran screeching. The sound shot through her skull and she shot straight up, worried about Oisinne’s forced sleep. He lay on his side, curled up like a baby, snoring with vigor.
After letting out a breath of relief, Clíodhna gathered the real baby in her arm and bounced him, getting her breast out to feed him. Soon he should have regular food, but for now, he seemed happy enough with her milk.
She glanced out the door to judge the time of day. The sun lay low in the west, so the afternoon had almost disappeared. Twilight would come soon. She must rush if she meant to meet Adhna at the stone circle tonight. Clíodhna braided her hair and twisted it into a tight bun.
Once she fed and burped Aileran, with his swaddling changed, Clíodhna rocked him to sleep. Aileran had just begun crawling around. It had been twelve moons since sh
e’d given birth. Etromma had already been crawling around like an awkward puppy at six moons, but Donn hadn’t expressed an interest in exploring until almost eleven moons. Aileran looked like he’d follow in his brother’s footsteps. Two moons past, Clíodhna started feeding him mashed turnips instead of her milk, but he resisted the change. She must stop breastfeeding soon, as her breasts ached. Her milk hadn’t been as full, so Aileran had better wean soon.
In search of her older children, Clíodhna walked to the stable. They’d fed the cows and pigs and cleaned their stalls, but no sign of either child remained. Had they gone to the village? Perhaps they’d needed an escape from Oisinne’s care, just as she had. She didn’t blame them.
She looked in on both husband and baby, but they slept. If neither child returned before dusk, she’d have to take Aileran with her and trust Oisinne would be safe enough. He should sleep under her spell. Despite Adhna’s warning, she didn’t seem to have suffered any ill effects from the spell, but she would withhold her judgment until he woke. Perhaps she’d done something damaging to him with her magic. Would she be able to tell? Sanity and sense had already fled her husband’s mind.
Footsteps outside turned out to be Donn carrying three hares from his traps.
“Is Etromma with you?”
“No, she went into the village. Tirechan asked her to have a meal with his family.”
Her eyes flew open with surprise. “After all that’s just happened? I would have thought they’d shun our family, especially someone so respectable.”
He gave her a lopsided smile. “She said something about Tirechan’s great-grandsire being mad, so they had sympathy. I guess having a father who is away with the fairies is less scandalous than having no father at all.”
A sad commentary on their society. She’d been much happier without Oisinne around, and she would bet good wool that both Etromma and Donn had enjoyed better lives those moons. Still, she had a duty to care for her own. Clíodhna had made her vows, and family remained the most important part of society. Someone who turned out their own kin because they became inconvenient to care for should be shunned from any right-thinking village.
Age of Druids: Druid's Brooch Series: #9 Page 14