The Queen stared at Clíodhna, as if gazing into her very soul. Clíodhna tried to stare back into those black cat eyes. She fell into their depths, as if hurtling down an endless pit. Her mind screamed as she fell, unable to look away or save herself.
Her strength against the Faerie Queen broke after only a few moments. She daren’t look away, but she blurred her vision. Once blurred, she cast her gaze down to the Queen’s feet, a safer target than her eternal, dangerous eyes.
“You have gained much influence here. Did you think I wouldn’t notice such a shift in my power base?”
The words chilled Clíodhna even further. She bowed low in respect. “I had no intention of subverting your power, my Queen. This home is isolated, and I tried to make friends in my new home.”
“I do not like you, mortal woman. I do not want you living in my kingdom. However, the marsh Fae and some wild Fae have spoken for you. Adhna is your loyal champion. Also, you have borne a child of Fae blood. For those reasons, I shall allow you to remain, but only under certain conditions.”
Clíodhna waited. She’d been unaware of such political machinations going on while she fiddled with carving and telling stories. How many favors had Adhna pulled to be her champion? What had it cost him?
“You will raise the child by Fae standards and with Fae tutelage for as long as he dwells in Faerie. You will attend me as a handmaiden as he grows. As my handmaiden, you will sing me your human songs each night.”
Clíodhna’s eyes grew wide. “You’ve heard of them?”
The Queen’s gentler manner disappeared. “I hear of everything that happens in my realm!”
Falling to her knees from the force of the Queen’s disapproval, Clíodhna bowed again. “I accept these conditions. What will my duties be as handmaiden, other than singing?”
“You will swear your loyalty to me, in word and in deed. Should you break this vow, your punishment will be swift and permanent. Attend me when Adhna returns from his current mission.”
When Clíodhna dared look up, the Queen and her entourage had disappeared. The sky lightened to its former brightness, and the oppression of power lifted. Clíodhna let out a long, shuddering breath.
What had she just done? She had barely considered her answer when she accepted a contract from not only a Faerie, but the Queen. Had all those stories of caution about such things been in vain? She cursed herself for being a prime fool and hugged her son.
Chapter Nine
Clíodhna worked herself up into a worried frenzy over her thoughtless actions. She paced back and forth each day, weighing her options, what she should have said, what she might do now, what her decision would mean for her son, every aspect of what had happened.
Try as she might, she couldn’t find a way out of her vow. Unless she convinced the Queen to release her, she may now be forever bound, subject to the Queen’s whim. The Queen had power over Clíodhna’s bodily actions, and might compel her to say things even when she wished to remain silent.
Had she even been the one to vow loyalty? Or had that been the Queen’s compulsion? She shook her head for the thousandth time. She shouldn’t dither like this, but with nothing else to do, she stewed within her situation over and over.
Inside her head, the possibilities of what might have happened whirled like a waterspout, around and around, making no headway and solving no problems. Rumann whimpered for attention, but Clíodhna ignored her babe for the ruminations of her encounter with the Faerie Queen.
Flashes of memory intruded on her imagination. The intense blue of the Queen’s outfit, the endless depths of her black eyes, the flutter of wings from the Fae attendants. The glint of sparkling light on the bronze spear heads of the guards. These images swam in with Clíodhna’s plans, constructs, and wild possibilities.
When Adhna returned, three sleeps later, Rumann’s cries had grown desperate and hoarse. He had curled up around his mother’s leg, tired of tugging at her for attention. She sat cross-legged on the floor, staring into space, ignoring her son. Old milk stains crusted under her léine. Her hair flew in unkempt tendrils. Her face remained slack-jawed and her expression blank.
Adhna grasped her shoulders and shook. “Clíodhna? Clíodhna, my love, what happened? Wake up!”
She didn’t move.
He picked up Rumann and patted the boy’s back, quieting his cries. He whimpered and nuzzled his chest, looking for milk. “I’m sorry, Rumann. I can’t feed you. But I can put you in the right place.”
Adhna lifted Clíodhna’s léine, his nose wrinkling at the odor of sour milk. He sent one of the Fae to fetch a washcloth and some water. Once she returned, he tugged the soiled léine over her head and cleaned Clíodhna’s caked breasts.
“Clíodhna? Clíodhna, wake now. Rumann needs you. Open your eyes. Open them, please. It’s Adhna. I’m here to help. Wake up!”
Deep within her throat, Clíodhna let out a low, visceral groan. One hand drifted up to cup Rumann’s hand at her breast. Adhna fetched a comb and untangled her hair with gentle hands, brushing it into smooth waves that fell down her back. He cleaned the first washcloth and rewet it, washing her face and shoulders, hoping the cool water would help to rouse her.
Through much coaxing and placing Rumann at both breasts, another moan escaped her trance. Her eyes fluttered, half-blinking several times before blinking. Despite the mind fog, her gaze became more focused and
