After Etromma returned, somewhat mussed from her evening adventures, Clíodhna gave her a stern look and pulled her aside. Donn took Aileran inside and put him to sleep.
Etromma stood with her feet planted wide and crossed her arms. “Well? I hope you won’t lecture me on my behavior.”
Clíodhna raised her eyebrows. “Why should I do that? Did you do something which deserves a lecture?”
Her daughter’s haughty confidence slipped. “N-no.”
With a half-smile, she put a finger under Etromma’s chin. “My darling daughter, not so many winters ago, I was your age. Men can be lovely companions in the dark of the night. Just be certain he will also claim your companionship as the sun rises high.”
Even in the dying firelight, Etromma’s blush rose strong. “He does! Well, he says he does. His mother hugged me, and made me eat three helpings of fruit tart.”
Clíodhna chuckled. “And will you be spending more time with them, then?”
“He’s invited me to come on a trade journey with him to Baile Átha Luain in three days. His father needs more ore and some tools, so he’s sending Tirechan. His older sister is going, too, so we won’t be alone.”
“How long will the trip take?”
She shrugged. “I’m not sure, but it’s about a two-day trip each way, so perhaps six days in total?” Her eyes held a tender appeal, as if Clíodhna would say no to such a request.
“Just be cautious. Travel can be dangerous, and Tirechan is strong, but young. One man can only fight off so many attackers. The Fianna are still out and about this summer, and some aren’t picky about the law.”
Her eyes glittering in gratitude, Etromma nodded her head with such vigor, her lightly tied hair fell loose. With a grin, Clíodhna picked an oak leaf from her tresses. “And be cautious with your young man. You should be vowed before a baby comes. Does he make you happy, Etromma?”
While playing with the end of her plait, Etromma grinned. “He does, Ma. And he asks me all sorts of questions and listens to my answers.”
“Questions about what?”
She shrugged. “Oh, my favorite weather, or if I like any songs, or if I like fish, that sort of thing.”
“It seems he does want to learn more about you. That’s good. It means he’s interested in more than bedding you. I’ll pack you some provisions before you leave.”
Etromma bounced away into the roundhouse. Clíodhna doubted her daughter would get any sleep.
Sleep, despite her exhaustion earlier, seemed the farthest from her own mind now. Her imagination whirled with too many things. Adhna, the brooch, Oisinne, Etromma and Tirechan, Pátraic, all these things swam in her memory, jostling for her attention. She couldn’t untangle any of these problems now, but none of them cared.
While nestling on her side around the glowing coals of the outside hearth, Clíodhna tried to relax her mind by thinking of something new, something fantastic. Clíodhna pulled up her vision of what the world of Faerie might be like. Despite Adhna’s censure, it seemed a magical place of wonder and beauty. As a child, she’d always wanted to visit the land of the Fae, colored by so many legends and tales, despite the dangers. What would it be like to stand before the Queen of Faerie? Would there be dancing and singing? Would she have magnificent courtiers?
Bodach’s bark-covered face hove into her imagination, and she clamped down hard on that memory. Clíodhna didn’t want the evil Fae lord sullying her fantasy. He may be a true-life courtier of the Faerie Queen, but he had no business in her own image of the place. With a flick of her hand, she pushed him away.
He returned almost as quickly as he disappeared.
As she had so many times in the real world, she pulled on storm clouds in her imagined world, but they wouldn’t come to her call. Frowning, she glanced up, but no clouds appeared. No sun, no wind, no rain. How would she use her power in a place with no weather?
She glared at Bodach in the flickering firelight, grinning with maniac glee at her fruitless efforts. With a grim set to her jaw, she pulled instead on the magic of the earth beneath Faerie. This, she could do, thanks to Adhna’s instructions.
The land of Faerie held far stronger magic than in the mortal world, and instead of thin tendrils of blue-white light, enormous ropes of white power twisted and writhed in her bones. They threatened to take over her body, but she wrestled with them, trying to control the sheer power pushing through her.
Clíodhna cried out as she grabbed the line of power. It slinked out of her grasp like a slippery eel, whipping back and forth with angry strength. When she grasped her hands around it, the white-hot energy burned her skin. She grunted in pain but kept her grip tight. The force of the earth power pulled her off her feet and slammed her into the ground. She let out a breath and remembered they dwelled in her dream.
Letting out a war cry that would have made her father proud, Clíodhna jerked the power into place, in the center of her being. Clíodhna became a font, a vessel for this monster of power. Now in control, she glanced around for her foe.
Bodach had disappeared.
Disgusted by losing her quarry, she sent the earth power back into the land of Faerie. It wouldn’t go. It remained flowing through her, burning her
