Age of Druids: Druid's Brooch Series: #9

by Christy Nicholas

  Just as Oisinne’s crazed face appeared in the door, running straight toward her, a thick bolt of lightning cracked into the ground at his feet. He paused, wrinkled his nose, and came for her again.

  After swallowing against her conscience, Clíodhna drew down the lightning once more. She’d had enough of warnings. This one aimed for Oisinne himself.

  The energy rose as Oisinne got closer and the clouds readied for her final strike. The hairs on her arms rose as the energy increased. A massive slam of power struck her husband, lighting his body with an eerie glow. He danced in place and then collapsed.

  Unwilling to wait and see if she’d killed the crazed creature who had once been her loving husband of seventeen winters, she turned.

  Clíodhna ran up the path, toward the standing stones.

  * * *

  The rain didn’t stop as she left the clearing, but Clíodhna didn’t care. The somber weather matched her mood. Her guilt over attacking Oisinne with deadly magic had been barely assuaged by his obvious insanity. He’d come for her and her babe. She must have no mercy upon such murderous intent.

  Clíodhna wanted desperately to go back for her children, but they’d grown into adulthood now, and were safer without her. She only hoped Etromma and Donn would find solace in their respective places. She didn’t even dare return to make sure they settled. Would they mourn her? Would they mourn their father? The tears came, unbidden, at the thought of never seeing her children again. They mingled unnoticed with the raindrops.

  Yet, Adhna had said she might return once again to the mortal world, should she escape to Faerie. Perhaps, in a few winters, she might come back and see her children grown into fine adults, with families of their own.

  Clíodhna hugged Aileran to her chest, anxious to keep her remaining child safe in her arms.

  The guardian stones loomed black and slick wet, emerging from the mists like silent sentries. When the circle came into view, the fog clung the tops of the stones, shrouding them in mystery. The day turned dim with her summoned storm.

  Now thoroughly soaked, she sat in the center of the circle and gave in to her sobs. She heaved with misery, cradling Aileran and shielding him from the cold rain. He fussed and whimpered but didn’t join her cries. He nuzzled against her chest, searching for milk but for a while, she didn’t respond even to this visceral need of her baby.

  I murdered my husband. No matter it had been in defense of myself and Aileran, I killed him. In addition, I drove off Etromma and Donn to their own fates, without a word of goodbye, a blessing, or a kiss. I’m a horrible mother. Aileran would be better off anywhere but in my arms, shivering and hungry on a Faerie hill.

  The rain fell harder now, and the ground began to rumble.

  This last pulled her from her misery. No longer as distracted with her grief, she gave in to Aileran’s quest and pulled out a breast for him to feed upon. The earth’s rumbling continued, like a herd of horses galloped past. No outside noise pierced the sound of the rain and her own hiccups.

  She must call Adhna. He said he might not come right away. What if she had to wait days? She’d grabbed no supplies, no provisions for a long wait. While Aileran had milk, she had no bread, cheese, or meat. Her hunting talent had never been strong and she’d brought no weapons. She held only her brooch, her magic, and her determination.

  After taking the damp air deep into her lungs, Clíodhna stood, still cradling Aileran close. Raising her face to the sky, she called to Adhna, begging him to come to her and take her to safety, to Faerie. The power of the call resonated through her blood, but no answer came.

  With a sigh, she sat back down. Now she’d have to wait. With an annoyed glance at the sky, she shoved the clouds away. She’d finished with the storm, and no longer wanted to be cold and wet. If only she had the power to dry herself as quickly as the air.

  The rumble returned, stronger. Her legs tingled where they touched the earth. She rose and put her back to the largest standing stone, wishing she had a physical weapon. As Aileran fussed, she also wished she had found somewhere safe for him, somewhere other than on this mystical Faerie hill with only an aging woman for protection.

  A third rumble came. This time, hoofbeats accompanied the rumbling; many hoofbeats, not just one horse. Rustling in the trees to the north made her turn to meet this new threat.

  The first figure to burst forth from the tree line appeared resplendent upon a magnificent black horse. He had bedecked his bark-skinned body with ivy and vines, which trailed after him like pennants in the wind. Clíodhna recognized Bodach, and unconsciously cowered against her standing stone.

  Behind the Fae Lord trailed at least ten lesser Fae, each one carrying a bronze, leaf-shaped sword, held out and ready for battle. They circled the stones with practiced precision, their swords pointed inward at her. Bodach held back as they took their positions. Once they halted, stone still in their posture, he dismounted his steed and strode toward her.

  “So it seems you need some help, my lovely. I can taste your desperation, and it’s delectable.” He took in a deep sniff, as if savoring the aroma of roasting meat. After letting his breath out with a satisfied sigh, he smiled at her.

  Bodach didn’t have a cheerful smile, or even one of glee. His smile assured her he knew full well the terror he inspired within her heart, and he relished that knowledge.

  Still standing with her back pressed against the stone, she drew upon the air, calling her power to her defense.

  “None of that! Not this time!” He snapped his fingers and his entourage raised their sword tips. Her swirling clouds above had formed into a tight circle, ready to attack again, but the lesser Fae raised a circle of their own, one of wind. This wind twisted up and dissipated her clouds with a snap of energy.

  The backlash slammed against her, pushing all air from her lungs. She gasped for breath as Aileran croaked out a cry of protest. Adhna, where are you?

  Rocked by the counter-magic, she tried again. This time, she pulled the tendrils of earth energy into her body, disappointed she had no raging river of power to wrestle under control as in her dream.

  The blue-white light traveled up her legs and body and shot out of her arm. She didn’t direct it at Bodach, though, but at the sword hand of one of his guards. As the magic knocked the sword out of his grip and sent it twirling toward the ground, he let out a cry of surprise. Bodach reacted with a shout of his own, one of rage. She disarmed three more guards before he reacted with an attack.

  The Fae disdained magical attack and reached for her arm, his bark skin digging into her own flesh. Clíodhna screamed but still threw power at each guard. Five disarmed now, and the others milled around, wondering what to do. The first had dismounted and bent to retrieve his bronze sword, but it sparked as he touched it. He jumped back, cautious at the remaining energy held by the metal.

  Pain shot through her arm as Bodach bent it behind her. She screeched in frustration and pain. Clíodhna couldn’t physically attack him, not with Aileran now wailing in her other arm.

  She directed her next blast at the Fae Lord, but he just cackled at her attempt. “Not so fast, my flower. You took me by surprise before, but now I’ve bolstered my own protections against your sort of power. You won’t overcome me so easily this time.” He bent her arm further up her back. Gritting her teeth, she refused to scream again and give him satisfaction.

  “Come now, just another lovely whimper. I relish your pain so.” He placed his other hand on her belly, pressing the small lump. “Oh, I see you’re with child. Now that’s an interesting development.”

  “Get away from me!” Clíodhna shoved her body against him, but he held her fast, almost embracing her with one arm behind her. His breath, hot against her cheek, smelled of woodsmoke and the sickly sweet of rotting fruit. He placed his mouth on hers, though she drew back to avoid it. She hit her head on the stone behind her, unable to pull back further.

  His kiss made her body thrum with desire, despite her revulsion of him. Her f
lesh desired his with every fiber, pushing up against his body. Her nether region tingled with need, urging her to open her legs and welcome him.

  Bodach’s free hand roamed over her belly and around her hip. Then he stroked her buttocks, pressing her hips against his. She squirmed with both horror and pleasure.

  “Ah, yes, exactly like that.”

  Aileran grabbed Bodach’s lip and pulled hard.

  “Tominn! Take the brat. It’s time to complete this one’s initiation.”

  “No!” The sensual compulsion fled as Clíodhna clutched her baby tight, resisting the attempts of Bodach’s guard to extract him. Tominn grunted as she resisted his tugs at the child.

  “Fool! I’ll do it.” Bodach released her arm and reached for the child. She swung her arm around and, with all the panic and fright of the day, punched him in the eye.

  He jumped back with a yell. “Daughter of a pig! For that, your spawn will pay!”

  Clíodhna sprinted from the circle, past the startled guard, Tominn, past the guardian stones, and down the sparkling path. She didn’t look back despite the hoofbeats gaining on her.

  She couldn’t concentrate enough while running to call on her full air power or to aim, but she threw a few lightning bolts behind her, felling trees to impede their progress. As a result, she made it all the way to her roundhouse before her pursuers arrived.

  Nothing lay in the clearing before the house, not even the smoking corpse of her husband.

  Confused, she scanned the clearing, looking for some trace of Oisinne, but nothing remained. Had she imagined the attack?

  Clíodhna couldn’t bother with it now. She must escape Bodach. Adhna, where are you?

  Wishing she had the time to stop for provisions, she kept running down the path to the village. While it never seemed a sanctuary in the past, with a host of Fae warriors running her down, it seemed her only option. They wouldn’t dare ride into a village full of mortals, would they? Abbot Pátraic would sooner banish her than hide her. Perhaps she ran straight toward her own doom.

  The river. She should get to the river. Running water might stop the Faeries. But the river wended far away from her spot on the path, and would involve tramping through the forest, which would slow her down.

  A voice hissed from the trees on her right. “Clíodhna! This way!”

  Relief washed over her. “Adhna? Is that you?”

  “Of course it is. You called, didn’t you? Come, quickly now!”

  Adhna led her through a rhododendron bramble, the thorns scratching both her and Aileran. When the latter cried out, she tried to shush him. In desperation, she stuck a breast in his mouth. He whimpered, but much more quietly.

  Frowning at the baby, Adhna turned while still walking. “We may have to leave him here, Clíodhna.”

  She halted, aghast. “What? What do you mean, leave him? He’s my son! I can’t abandon him!”

  “Not so loud! Bodach and his lackeys are still searching for you. I left a false trail, but that won’t fool him long. And I don’t mean abandon him. You have a friend, Ita, right? We might have to leave him to her care.”

  “I can’t leave my son, Adhna.”

  He tugged on her arm, urging her forward. “The passage to Faerie is dangerous for a mortal child. He’d be safer there, and we will escape more easily.”

  Clíodhna hugged Aileran to her chest as he dribbled milk. She mopped it up awkwardly as she resumed walking behind Adhna.

  He led her through the bracken and down a deer trail toward the village, in a roundabout way. When they emerged from the woods, Ita’s farm lay on the next hill. Clíodhna panicked and backed up, clutching her baby tight and shaking her head. “No, no, I won’t leave my last child!”

  Adhna placed a gentle hand on her belly. “You have another coming. Our child. He will be much better suited for life in Faerie, being of the blood himself.”

  “I thought you said I had Fae blood already? That means Aileran has some.”

  “Not enough, love. Not enough to shield him from the temptations and dangers of the land itself.”

  Clíodhna had no tears left, not after the trials of the day. With numb acceptance, she followed Adhna as he pulled her toward Ita’s house.

  Chapter Eight

  Adhna’s cottage, on the edge of the Faerie marshlands

  Clíodhna had to admit, Adhna hadn’t lied about the peace of his home. She sat next to the pond, watching insects which looked almost like butterflies dance on the surface, wheeling and diving in all the colors of the rainbow. The cozy cottage they lived in remained in excellent repair and sported a delightfully carved wooden lintel. Images of wolfhounds entwined with hares along the edge and over the door.

  Bees buzzed around them, but Adhna admitted he couldn’t cultivate them here in Faerie like he did in the mortal world. This turned out to be quite a shame, as she missed honey. Bread, too, and cheese. However, they remained fed well enough on fruit and meat.

  She missed her children with intense pain every day. Each morning, as she had greeted the dawn, she now sent a mental message to each child, wishing them success, health, and wealth. They would never hear such messages, but it made her feel better to say them. Her heart ached for Aileran. Such a wee baby, and he’d never know his mother.

  Ita had been confused but welcoming to the child. Adhna offered to bring gifts of food for his upkeep, but she refused. She promised to care for him as if he’d been her own. After a tearful parting, Clíodhna left with Adhna, her heart broken.

  Now the growing babe within her womb helped fill a small part of that void, though it would never satisfy it. This child, much more active than the others had been, kicked and prodded at all hours of the day. No real night fell on Faerie, but she slept when she grew tired and the child let her. She had no real duties or struggle. They had no animals to care for, nor garden to tend. She requested that Adhna allow her to prune the flowers that grew along the edge of the pond and pick some to brighten the interior of the roundhouse.

  When she asked about other areas of Faerie, his expression grew grim. “Not yet, love. Bodach still searches for you, though he searches in the mortal world. I’ve placed protections on each of your children, so he can’t harm them directly. He can’t find you here, as I’ve built strong wards over the winters. This isn’t the first time I’ve had to deal with predatory Fae Lords, and I doubt it will be the last. However, if you go wandering in the marshes, for instance, those protections would no longer keep you from his minions.”

  Clíodhna chewed her lip and let out a long breath. Her hands fell idle and she wished she had some project she might work on. Perhaps she’d make some baskets. She’d never been crafty except for her carving, but she must find something.

  The baby kicked again, drawing her attention to her growing stomach. It distended out now, as her time drew near. She had no good way of measuring time here, so she didn’t know how many moons she’d spent in Faerie, but her belly and her body told her what she needed to know. This would be her fifth birth, though she only had three living children so far. Her stillborn daughter still tugged at her memory. Her name would have been Samthann.

  Clíodhna grew nostalgic and morose. Her life held no strife, no danger, except for wandering too far from Adhna’s protection. She missed feeling useful.

  After asking Adhna for some cutting tools, all made of bronze or bone, since iron was anathema to the Fae, she’d taken up carving again. Adhna had brought her several branches of soft wood to practice on. While this wood acted differently than wood in the mortal world, it had an odd suppleness that pleased her. It bent and molded to pressure, so she could almost shape it with her hands in places.

  Her initial attempts came out clumsy and horrible, but with enough time, she might get as good as she had once been. She might even become as good as Donn.

  After picking up her latest project, a length of soft wood she’d been carving into ivy around a pillar, a pang in her lower back made her groan. Clíodhna pressed her
hand on that spot to ease the pain. It eased after a moment and she bent to pick a carving tool. Choosing a curved bone pick, she stippled along the edge of an ivy leaf, pushing the soft wood down to raise the edge of the leaf.

  One of the non-butterflies lit upon the end of her carving. Its wings shimmered with rainbow iridescence, making her grin with delight. Faerie had an intense beauty, like nothing she’d ever before beheld. When she left for the mortal world, a part of her would remain behind, mourning the loss of that beauty to her dying day.

  For now, she remained content to enjoy the lovely things all around her. The insects, the trees, the dawnless light, the still pond.

  As she stared, the still pond grew ripples, startling her out of her reverie. The ripples resolved into a head, something small and knobby, rising and coming toward the shore. Cautious, she grabbed the stout branch next to her, a future carving project. It would work as a serviceable cudgel, though she was in no condition for a physical brawl.

  The creature emerged from the pond, dripping and pitiful. Wet hair matted along its back and it shook like a dog would, flinging droplets in all directions. Clíodhna covered her face from the onslaught and cocked her head. “Greetings. Who are you?”

  The creature, barely half her height but at least twice her mass, looked like a boulder. His skin, except for the stripe of yellow hair down its back and on its head, looked like polished granite, sparkling in the light when he moved. He crunched when he walked, as if stone scraped against stone. “I am Crunn. I have come with a message.”

  Clíodhna blinked several times. Adhna had only left a while ago, to answer a summons from the Queen. Who else might know where to send a message?

  He grinned, white pebble teeth showing bright. “From Fae you helped in the mortal world. They send word of your children. Adhna bid them keep an eye on them, and to report anything unusual.”

  She let out a breath of relief. How considerate of Adhna to arrange for news. Her instincts for hospitality kicked in. “May I offer you food or drink?”