Escaping to Faerie seemed a much better prospect than it had before. How would her baby fare in that strange land? She had no way of knowing without going herself. A sound from inside the roundhouse made her guilt bloom again. Her wedded husband moaned. With a sigh, she hefted Aileran into her arms and went to see if Oisinne had woken from her spell yet.
Her husband still slept, but he tossed and groaned when she approached. Aileran reached for him, but she kept the baby away from his father. “No, dear. Da can’t hold you just now.”
Clíodhna wondered if she’d ever again trust Oisinne to hold Aileran. Oisinne’s ropes looked loose. She needed to tighten them.
Her vision grew dizzy and weakness swept over her body. She fell to her knees, crying out in pain from the impact. As she fell, Oisinne sat straight up in bed, looking around with feral eyes, wide and unrecognizable.
They didn’t have the same knowing evil as when Bodach possessed him in her dream. No, this evil possessed something different. A bestial, barren expression filled with vile hatred which chilled her to her core.
Scrambling away, she held Aileran far out of reach, but he stalked toward her. She couldn’t get up without dropping the baby, so she kicked at him. Oisinne clawed at her legs, ripping welts in her skin. Clíodhna screamed and pulled on the earth’s power to shove him back, but she’d had no time to prepare. Still weakened from whatever had struck her, the earth only gave her a trickle of energy. The blast shoved Oisinne back a few handspans, but no further.
“Donn! Etromma!” No one came to her calls or her screams. They must have left after their heated discussion. Curse her for driving her children away! She hated needing help, but fully admitted now that she needed something.
Oisinne dove for her again, and she planted one foot in his chest. He had too much bulk for her to push away easily, but it kept his fingers from her eyes. He scrabbled at her, unable to get past her leg. She tried to push with the other one but got no purchase while holding the baby.
Panic rose in her chest. Oisinne got hold of the edge of her léine and ripped, exposing her body. Clíodhna might as well have been a tree stump for all the effect it had on Oisinne. Most men, when confronted with a naked woman, changed their expression. Their scrutiny held some level of leer, even if it also held love. Oisinne gazed upon her only as prey.
The earth would not obey her command. Should she call the weather into the roundhouse? She must try.
She called on a gale of wind to blow through the house. At first, only a light breeze answered her command, but as Oisinne’s clawed hands edged closer to her face, her desperation increased her power. A huge gust pushed him back. Not enough to let her escape, but enough for her to get to her feet. He lunged for her legs, wrapping his arms around them, but she scrambled away. If only she’d learned to call the Sluagh Sídhe to help. The wild Fae seemed to like her, but those only appeared when Pátraic had attacked her.
Clíodhna still had the brooch Adhna had gifted her. Nothing else but her baby mattered. She sprinted for the door, clutching Aileran so tight he bawled in pain and confusion. She had no time to waste comforting him now.
The morning had come into full bloom as she’d been inside, and she had to blink to adjust her vision. The howl behind her made her turn, anger rising in her blood. How dare her husband attack her? She’d had enough of running for her life.
Now that she had access to the spirits of the air, she drew down the power from the sky. The clouds roiled in inky blackness, a maelstrom of rage from her mind manifest in the heavens.
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
