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

by Christy Nicholas

  The words made Clíodhna’s skin crawl. Whatever the Queen said, she drew power as the chant continued. Pressure increased, pushing against Clíodhna’s lungs and making her hair crackle with energy.

  The Queen stopped chanting, a question in her tone. Clíodhna’s head moved of its own accord, so she must look the Queen in the eyes. Those black, endless cat eyes. She shivered and wanted to blink away, but the Queen’s gaze locked into hers.

  “Do you vow your honor and loyalty to me above all others, Clíodhna?”

  Trying hard to swallow against the knot in her throat, Cliodhna glanced around at the courtiers, eager for entertainment if the human dared refuse. Her life would be forfeit in seconds. With a last thought of desperate pain for the children she might never see again, she gulped. “I do, my Queen.”

  A ripple of power spread out, an iridescent ring coloring everything in its path, along with a gust of cold wind. Clíodhna shivered and rubbed her arms, once again allowed her own bodily control. Something had latched onto her mind, something limiting and heavy. She suspected her vow had created a burden she must now carry everywhere.

  A sigh of disappointment rippled around the watching Fae, but the Queen’s mouth twitched in the ghost of a smile. “Very well. Rise, handmaiden, and take your place at my side as part of my court.”

  Clíodhna rose, her knees shaking. She turned to face the attending Fae, each one with disapproving frowns, except the toad-like Fae, who had a slight smile and a wink. While she wished Adhna had been here, the Queen sent him on another mission. She took a deep breath and stepped back, hoping to shift focus away from her.

  Soaring arches of delicate white branches met overhead, with autumn leaves forming a roof. A russet leaf, colored shining gold, fluttered down to the floor. Once it reached the ground, however, it disappeared. Birds sang in the upper branches, but none came into view. As she gazed out through the tree trunks, the gently rolling hills of Faerie undulated like waves on the sea.

  The Queen took her seat upon the throne again, the very essence of regal. She clapped once, and two Fae guards dragged someone down the long, mirror-smooth hall floor. The prisoner appeared to be a brown Fae, with gashes in his dark skin, dripping something white like tree sap rather than blood. His clothing hang in rags and his expression looked resigned.

  The Queen’s voice shot through the hall, filling the space with command. “What is his crime?”

  A third guard stepped up, rapped his spear against the floor, and reported, his gaze locked forward. “This Fae attempted to steal fruit from the Queen’s garden. He claimed he did it as a favor for his pet mortal, in the human realm. She asked him for an apple of immortality.”

  The Queen threw her head back and laughed. “Did he believe such things of my humble garden? Oh, fool that he is. The usual punishment.” She flicked her hand in a careless gesture. The guards dragged him away. Clíodhna burned to ask what his sentence would be, but realized she may not like the answer.

  Several cases came before the Queen, each one judged with little deliberation, from what Clíodhna could see. The one point of mercy the Queen granted was for a young Fae, small as a child. He had wandered into a forbidden area, something described as the Dead Marsh. For his crime, the Queen spoke to him in stern tones, reminding him that the marsh remained dangerous, and he should mind the rules better. Such human kindness gave Clíodhna a small glimmer of hope that her new position would be less horrible than she’d feared. She breathed more easily after that.

  Hours must have passed before the Queen clapped her hands three times. Two guards had been leading a supplicant in, but they turned around in an instant, shuffling the Fae outside.

  The courtier crowds increased over time, doubling and then tripling in size. Now at least forty Fae milled around, waiting for their Queen’s command. They watched her with eager anticipation.

  She stood, surveying them all with pleased confidence. Then she gestured to a small cluster of three Fae in the back corner. They fumbled into the shadows and came out with elegant objects. Clíodhna couldn’t tell what they were until the music started.

  Instruments! They played musical instruments. The ethereal strains of strings and wind soared through the vaulted trees and caressed her ears. Entranced by the delightful melody, she began to dance, without a thought for propriety.

  A hand caught her arm and she grunted in surprise. The short, stout, toad-like Fae had grasped her arm, looking up at her with alarm. “You mustn’t! No one dances without the Queen’s permission.”

  “I… I didn’t realize. I’m sorry.”

  He bowed and gave a wide grin filled with sharp teeth. “I am here to help. I’m called Grimnaugh.”

  “Thank you, Grimnaugh. I’m Clíodhna.”

  “Oh, we’re all well aware of who you are, human woman! The court has been abuzz about you for some time now, ever since you came to Faerie. The Queen, in particular, is intrigued by you, a full human! She wants to make you a handmaiden.”

  She glanced around at the other Fae in alarm. “But Adhna said he’d hide me!”

  “He hid you well enough. We weren’t sure where Adhna hid his cottage. Only the Queen kept that knowledge. But the court has been abuzz with your arrival, and we’ve learned you’d been helping the other Fae, both in the human realm and here. It’s unusual for a human to be so helpful, so you became the subject of much speculation.”

  He pointed out each Fae and told her the name they went by, and their relative rank in the court. “You, as the Queen’s handmaiden, are ranked above them all, until the Queen chooses a consort. But as a human, you won’t have real power. You’ll be… a curiosity, at most. She has been without one since the last one died, and they’re all pushing for the position. Well, most of them. Adhna doesn’t seem to be interested, though she favors him.”

  Mixed emotions swam inside her. She didn’t want to lose Adhna, but if he had a chance at such power, why wouldn’t he have taken it? “Adhna could have been consort?”

  Grimnaugh grinned, his smile almost reaching from ear to ear. “Many times past. But his heart, it seems, is promised elsewhere. He’s wise to turn the Queen down. She wouldn’t have tolerated such a split loyalty. Rejecting the Queen is dangerous, but she would never play second best.”

  So Adhna had turned the Queen down because of his feelings for herself. She felt both relief and guilt at this revelation. She stared at her hands, clasped in front of her, terrified to move lest she violate some other court custom.

  “Don’t be so worried, Clíodhna. I will help you learn what you must to survive. Adhna asked me if I would look out for you when he couldn’t. We’ve worked together in the past, and I owe him a few favors.”

  “Thank you, Grimnaugh.” She glanced up, noticing a few of the Fae moving to the center of the floor, forming a double line. “Is the dancing to begin?”

  “It is. I recommend you wait and study the steps before you enter the dance. Mistakes do not reflect well upon our Queen.”

  Clíodhna studied the dance. She learned many dances, precise turns of phrase, meaningful glances, and other subtle power plays within the court of Queen Áine. Her prior education in social customs meant nothing here. The minute details mattered so much more now. Every gesture and nuance carried tremendous meaning. Until she became familiar with the possibilities, she kept silent and still during court.

  Grimnaugh became her shadow, whispering information in her ear. She adored the short, squat Fae and his help most likely saved her life countless times. The Queen only acknowledged his presence at Clíodhna’s side once, with a bare nod. Grimnaugh informed her this qualified as high praise for any lesser Fae from his Queen.

  When Adhna returned from his latest mission, he appeared ruffled and tired. He couldn’t speak of his errands, as they were the Queen’s business, but when he came back, they enjoyed their solitude for a few precious hours before she must return to court. He thanked Grimnaugh for watching out for her with a few pieces of precious cheese
and a small jar of honey. Grimnaugh delighted in the gift, letting out a cheerful giggle and a small dance when he saw them.

  “Adhna knows me so well! I grow weary of fruit and vegetables. He’s so lucky, getting to travel into the mortal world.”

  “You cannot?”

  His shoulders drooped, his joy diminishing. “I’m not powerful enough. Only the courtiers and their ilk can go back and forth at will. The Queen has assigned some, like the nature spirits or the bean sídhe. Our place is here, at the pleasure of my Queen.”

  Clíodhna stared off into the distance. The rolling hills glowed with ambient light. “I wish I could show you a sunrise. It’s a glorious sight. I miss them.”

  “Adhna said you may return someday. Will you do so, given the chance?”

  “I must at some point. I must see my children. They’re all living in the mortal world, and I’ve trusted others to take care of them. Each one has left a hole in my heart.”

  Grimnaugh also introduced her to some lesser Fae who worked for the Queen. Those who prepared food, repaired garments, decorated for her fêtes and balls. These Fae seemed more human-like, though too tall or short to be real humans. Their voices sounded like tinkling bells or roaring winds. Some had wings or fins or feathers.

  A courtier might approach her during court when the Queen attended another matter. Grimnaugh reminded her of the Fae’s rank, name, and purpose.

  One such young Fae walked toward her during a ball. He looked very young, tall and thin with snow-white skin like the Queen’s and a young raven perched on his shoulder. His ink-black hair curled around his face and down his back, almost alive and writhing. He bowed to her. Grimnaugh whispered, “This is Ammatán. He is but recently admitted to the Queen’s court, as his sire once served her. He lived in another Queen’s court for some winters as he grew.”

  The Fae flushed when she beamed at him. “Greetings to you, Ammatán.”

  “And to you, human. I wanted to meet you. I’ve never seen a full human before. Oh, I hope I haven’t offered insult?” The sweet, anxious expression in his eyes made her soften.

  “I’m honored to meet you, young Fae. And what is your talent?”

  He swallowed, bowed, and scampered off without answering her question. He’d only sought a meeting. She turned to Grimnaugh. “He seems sweet.”

  With a nod, Grimnaugh frowned. “Sweet enough. He has yet to find a protector in court. That choice often colors the future for young Fae.”

  “A protector?”

  “Someone to guide the youth, teach him the ways of the court, how to avoid the pitfalls. Adhna and I have become your protectors, though he’s by far the more powerful of the two.” As soon as the young Fae fled, another took his place. This Fae towered over Clíodhna, stick thin and wispy like a mare’s tail cloud in the sky. Grimnaugh gave her name. “She is Cerul. Her position gives her power over the light in Faerie.”

  Clíodhna’s eyes grew wide. “That seems a great deal of power!”

  The tall Fae bowed once, her pale blue eyes shining. “I have little to do but maintain levels. The Queen prefers consistency. However, the work is important.”

  While cocking her head, Clíodhna asked, “Have you ever traveled to the mortal world?”

  Cerul gave a slight smile but said nothing.

  Clíodhna let out a sigh. “I miss the serene beauty and power of the sunrise. Can we do nothing of that sort here in Faerie?”

  Cerul considered the question with more solemnity than Clíodhna expected. “I shall inquire.” She left quickly before Clíodhna could thank her.

  Grimnaugh introduced several other Fae. Beacáin raised mushrooms along the Great Swamp’s edge, while Gabha worked bronze, creating the spears and daggers used in Fae warfare. A third, Ceatha Mil, a rainbow-striped female, had become the only beekeeper in Faerie. She told Clíodhna no one else had coaxed the creatures to thrive here, but she confided she would never divulge her secret.

  A disturbance at the hall’s entrance made them both glance toward the arched doorway. Clíodhna sucked in her breath when she recognized Bodach striding in with four guards behind him, marching in step. He approached the Queen with brash confidence and bowed deep. “My Queen, I have returned from a successful mission.”

  Queen Áine smiled, but Clíodhna didn’t think the smile reached her eyes. When Bodach rose, he cast his gaze across the gathered courtiers until it fell upon her and Grimnaugh. He glowered, his expression turning sour. He turned back to the Queen. “Your Grace, why have you accepted this human to your court?”

  Her response came in a whisper, falling upon a sudden silence, like mist on a still pond. “Do you dare to question my judgment, Bodach?”

  He bowed again. “I should never dare to do so, my Queen.” He retreated, not turning his back to her. Once he exited, the assembled court breathed again.

  Grimnaugh curled his lip. “That one. He has incredible nerve. One day, it will land him in a great deal of trouble.”

  “Has he acted so bold before?”

  “A few times. Most recently, when the Queen took a mortal lover. He has no love for mortals, and believes their blood dilutes the pure Faerie blood. Which is ridiculous, because all of us are of some mixture.”

  She had more questions, but the hall had grown quiet again as another petitioner approached the Queen.

  Clíodhna had expected such a display of obvious disapproval to result in no more courtiers approaching her. However, several now queued up for introduction. That alone gave her much information about both Bodach’s relation to the other courtiers and the strength of Queen Áine’s approval.

  Before she left the court, the Queen pulled her aside. “Be wary of Bodach. You must realize by now he means you ill.”

  “I’m aware, my Queen. I shall be cautious. He’s attempted to destroy me before, in the mortal world.”

  “If he attempts anything in Faerie, he will feel my wrath. Call on me should you suspect anything brewing.”

  Before Clíodhna could agree, the Queen swept from the hall in a flurry of sparkling silver and white, like a soft snowdrift blown by a strong wind.

  * * *

  Several hours after Grimnaugh escorted her back to Adhna’s roundhouse, her erstwhile host, lover, and mentor returned, tired and bedraggled. She helped him wash in the pond and massaged his back, rubbing the weariness from his back. He sighed with delight and closed his eyes.

  She sluiced water over his head and scrubbed at his tangled hair. With an exclamation she fetched a comb and attacked the tangles. Between his grunts when she pulled his hair, she asked, “Will you have to go away again soon? I thank you for thinking of Grimnaugh to help me while you’re away, but I miss you.”

  He hummed in pleasure at her attentions. “Not that I am aware of. I’ve pleased the Queen with my last mission, or so she says. Several other courtiers have requested duties, and she’s promised to spread the work around.”

  “Can you tell me anything of what you’re doing on these?”

  “Not much. I can tell you most of my travel has been to the courts of the other Queens. I suppose you could label them as diplomatic missions. This Queen hasn’t had very amicable relations with some other realms in the past. It’s been my duty to remedy that where I can.”

  “What are the names of the other Queens? Where do they rule?”

  He chuckled, shaking his head. “Faerie is not a staid and physical realm like your mortal world. The locations can shift and meld like memory, and many lesser Queens are dotted in the hidden corners of Faerie. However, I can name the more powerful ones. Queen Aoibheall is the one I’ve most recently visited. Some other Queens are Grian, Una, Micoll, and Nic Nemhain, though her realm lies far away.”

  The names swam in Clíodhna’s head, but she had no tales to attach them to. “Tell me about them.”

  “Let’s see. Queen Aoibheall is a Queen of fire, and she favors the creative arts. Poetry, art, and dance are her favorites. She is rough on her favorites, though. If the
y don’t produce works to delight her, she might rain fire down upon them. Grian is our own Queen’s sister and has a penchant for transforming those who displease her into badgers.”

  Clíodhna covered her mouth to keep a giggle from escaping. “Badgers?”

  Adhna grinned back, his eyes twinkling with amusement. “Yes, badgers. Sometimes she even turns them back when they repent. Sometimes.

  “Nic Nemhain, now, she’s a dark one. She loves bones and is rumored to have a palace made of them. I’ve never seen it myself. Micoll, she’s the Queen of the smaller Fae; those wild Fae and sprites of the marsh you are so fond of.”

  “And Oonagh?”

  “Oonagh I have never met. She lives to the north and west, along the shore. She’s spoken of as the Silver Queen and loves music so much she will take musical mortals as pets.”

  Clíodhna shivered at the notion of being a slave to a Faerie Queen. However, she considered the weight which fell upon her mind as she vowed to Queen Áine and realized she’d come a step closer to such a fate herself.

  “You said you haven’t met Oonagh. Have you met the others?”

  He clenched his jaw. “I have. Some I hope never to meet again.”

  Something in his manner forbade Clíodhna from pressing for further details. Instead, she caressed his shoulders and wished he wouldn’t be in danger again.

  Adhna turned and gripped her shoulders. “Promise me, Clíodhna. Promise me that if you ever gain power within the court, to hold tight upon your good nature. Keep it safe inside you, and never let something from the outside eat into it. Don’t give your kindness up for anything or anyone. Promise me!”

  Startled, she blinked twice. “Of course I will, Adhna! But the point is moot. I’m a mortal in the Faerie court. How could I gain power?”

  He released her and looked away. “It happens from time to time. Pray it doesn’t happen to you. Such power is a burden, and not for the weak of the soul.”