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?”
Crunn sat on the shore,
