* * *
The rumbling bounced the throne until her teeth rattled and her spine ached. She clung onto the arms of the chair for dear life, begging it to stop. Bodach’s laugh echoed in her ears as the rumbling drowned out all other sounds.
The wave of sparking power that reached up from the ground and engulfed her like a giant hand slammed her against the back of the chair. She struggled to fight against it, but she possessed no defenses against such strength.
Just like in her dream, this power from the earth surged like a behemoth, a huge and unstoppable force. Its amorphous potency surrounded her, drowning her in its depths.
Clíodhna couldn’t breathe. She tried to pull in a gasp of air but failed. Panicked, she drew some energy from this attacking earth, pulling it into her body to wrest some control from it. A trickle obeyed her, but the vast majority of it ignored her command.
Angry now at its recalcitrance, she doubled her efforts, calling upon every trick Adhna taught her. She yanked that rope of power, swollen with brute strength, and shoved it within her own body, under her governance.
It fought her efforts, bucking like a dolphin on the waves of an ocean storm, but she didn’t give up. She clung upon it without mercy, tightening her grip with each heartbeat, until it sighed within her clasp and suffused her muscle and bone.
With intense relief, she let out a breath, able to once again work her lungs. The power buzzed through her, energy crackling along her skin.
She opened her eyes and turned to Bodach; whose lascivious grin fell a few notches. She must be a sight to behold, for several courtiers fell to their knees and bowed their heads to the floor when she rose.
Bodach took a step back, his eyes growing wide. His discomfiture didn’t last for long, however. He soon realized she’d done as he’d wanted and survived the onslaught of power.
Clíodhna became the Faerie Queen in name and power, and in command of this land.
His grin returned and he trailed a finger along her arm. She narrowed her eyes at him, but he turned away, unconcerned.
Bodach clapped twice, and the Faerie host parted, as if well-practiced. A column in the center opened, and a squad of Fae ran in, carrying tables and benches. After placing a small table on the dais, they placed long ones in a center line. Then another squad came, carrying platters.
The plates and platters gleamed in the sunlight, glinting with bright sparks as they traveled through the beams. Several Fae squinted either at the beams themselves or the shine from the plates. As servants laid the food upon the table, the aromas wafted toward the dais, and Clíodhna’s stomach told her it had been a very long time since she’d eaten.
How could she think of food? When her most dangerous enemy propped her up as a puppet leader, and she couldn’t do anything to stop it, and her body craved meat? How banal she had become, a slave to her base desires?
Still, she couldn’t deny her body’s craving.
The savory aromas of roasted food wafted up to her nose, making her mouth water. Glass goblets of exquisite grace and elegant design held potent mead. Had the Fae made these? Or were they artifacts from the human world? She rose, holding one glass up to the gathered Fae, and took a sip. They all cheered and drank from their own vessels.
The warmth of the mead didn’t feel like when she’d been human. Now it bristled and tingled each part, like tiny explosions throughout her body. She sat with care, unwilling to seem wobbly or uncertain. She glanced at Grimnaugh, but he would be no help.
Had the power shift changed her to a true Fae? Did it transform her human parts? A chill traveled down her spine at the idea. As a test, she pinched her skin, not knowing how that would prove anything at all. Adhna bled. She’d seen it and dressed his wounds. Some ancient tales told of mortals demanding someone prove they bled to determine they weren’t Fae. She let out a rueful chuckle. Such measures mustn’t be as foolproof as imagined.
She nibbled at the food, not as ravenous as she’d thought. The courtiers ate with cautious enthusiasm, each one sneaking a glance toward the dais. Bodach ate with gusto and fastidious manners. Clíodhna had imagined him with horrible manners, shoving food into his mouth like an animal. Instead, he sliced each slice of meat with his bronze leaf-shaped knife and placed it daintily in his mouth. He chewed and swallowed each morsel before cutting another off.
Noticing her regard, he turned. “Do you not find the offering to your taste, my dearest? I can call for something else, if you prefer.” He clapped twice. A young servant Fae appeared at his shoulder, all eager eyes and nervous anticipation.
“What would be your pleasure, my Queen? A delicacy from the mortal world, perhaps? Or something sweet and unusual? Ah, I know!” He whispered into the servant’s upswept ear and the youngster darted off.
Time passed, and Clíodhna returned to watching the courtiers and noting each reaction to Bodach and herself. She listened to the snippets of conversation that drifted into her hearing.
When the servant returned, they staggered under a huge platter. Atop the platter stood a miniature palace, almost like her own. It even had soaring archways of glittering white and blue, with living ivy entwined around the towers.
With an exclamation, Clíodhna realized the castle consisted of a sweet cake and some delicately constructed decorations. Even the ivy was edible. Her eyes grew wide with the wonder of it, and she didn’t want to ruin the incredible creation by eating it. Bodach laughed at her hesitation and sliced
