by Anne Bishop
“And what duties might those be?”
“To anchor the magic that keeps Brightwood’s shining road open, of course. It’s the least you could do after cheating Dianna out of—”
“I cheated Dianna out of nothing,” Selena said sharply, feeling the heat rise inside her. “I ascended because I could meet the gift on its own terms, because I was what it needed. The witches who live in the Old Place that anchors your Clan’s territory are a family. I would have thought even the Fae could understand that bond. They have no desire to leave their home or their land, and if any of them did, she would go to a place of her own choosing. The Fae have no right to dictate what one of the Mother’s Daughters does or doesn’t do. You have no say except among your own people. And you obviously have no understanding of why the Huntress came into being.”
The old woman’s face reddened with anger. “And you’re going to tell us?”
“The Huntress is the Queen of the Witches because she is their protector. So if you think I’ll use my power to force a witch to live someplace against her will for your convenience, you’d better think again. And if you try to force a witch against her will, I won’t be going after her. I’ll be hunting you.”
Gwynith, who was sitting beside her, gasped.
The matriarchs muttered angrily under their breath. The one who faced Selena looked ready to explode. “It is because of creatures like you that we leave half-breed spawn in the human world.”
Selena burst out laughing. “You must have missed a few.”
Hearing Gwynith’s stifled moan, she tried to rein in her amusement, mostly because she could feel sharp bitterness and anger under the laughter. The dream came back, swelling her temper. She stood up abruptly, needing to get away from these people before she lashed out at them.
As she stepped away from the table, a man strode into the courtyard. Combined with his black hair and gray eyes, he had a face and body that would make a woman’s pulse jump under other circumstances. Now she just looked at him and wondered how many women he had seduced and how many half-breed spawns he had abandoned in the human world.
“Mother’s mercy,” Gwynith whispered.
One of the matriarch’s looked over and said with a note of triumph in her voice, “Lucian! Come meet the new Lady of the Moon.”
He strode over until he faced her, with barely an arm’s length between them.
“What sort of witch tricks did you use to steal my sister’s rightful place?” he demanded.
Her temper spiked, barely held in check now. “Be very careful, Fae Lord,” she said softly.
“Careful? A wiccanfae bitch usurps the power of one of the Fae, and you’re telling me to be careful? Do you know who I am?”
“I don’t really care as long as you get out of my way—and stay out of my way.”
“I am the Lord of the Sun, the Lord of Fire. I am the Lightbringer. And I lead the Fae.”
“Then I fail to see why my presence is such a terrible insult,” Selena snapped.
“The wiccanfae have no place among us—and they have no place in Tir Alainn.”
“Then you should leave.”
Lucian stared at her until her control frayed to the breaking point.
“I am Fae,” Selena said, “and I am a Daughter of the House of Gaian. So that would make me one of the wiccanfae. But if I am wiccanfae, Lord of Fire, what did you think you are?”
“What?”
“Fire is a branch of the Great Mother. It isn’t a Fae gift. The only way you could command fire is if you’re a descendant of at least one person who was from the House of Gaian.”
“You lie!” Lucian shouted. “I. Am. Fae!”
“Wiccanfae,” Selena shouted back. “You can’t be pure Fae and have the power you have. No Lord of Fire can have that power and be anything but wiccanfae. What did you think you were?” She shook her head and turned enough to look at Gwynith, feeling a pang of regret that she couldn’t ease into the truth as she’d intended when she’d asked the Ladies of the Moon, the bards, and storytellers to gather. “What did you think you were?”
Gwynith stared at her.
Selena pointed a finger at Gwynith. “Earth.” She pointed to the other Ladies of the Moon. “Water. Water. Air. Air. Earth. Water. Air.” She looked at Gwynith again. “Did you think I couldn’t feel what branch anchors you? That I wouldn’t be able to tell?”
“You’re bluffing,” Lucian snarled. “You’re just trying to justify taking Dianna’s place.”
She turned back to face him. “I don’t have to justify anything, Lightbringer. Least of all to you.”
He raised his hand. “You need to learn who you’re dealing with.”
“I’m connected to the Mother in ways you will never be. So don’t play fire games with me unless you want to see Tir Alainn burn.”
Lucian paled, but his eyes still flashed with temper. “You’re not in your world anymore. There’s nothing you can do in Tir Alainn.”
“Really?”
She flung out one hand, giving earth the temper building inside her.
A moment later, a clap of thunder boomed overhead. The ground shook. The Clan house shook. Someone screamed.
The land ripped apart, zigzagging as if following a lightning bolt.
Selena poured more of her power into the land, holding it now, giving it strength to fight against the first lash of power she’d flung out.
The rip continued, speeding through the land, becoming narrower and narrower until it ended as a crack between Lucian’s and Selena’s feet.
It had happened, and ended, so quickly, the Fae hadn’t had time to get up from the table, let alone run.
“That is what I can do in Tir Alainn, Lightbringer,” Selena said quietly.
His arrogance was gone. Standing in front of her was a shaking, terrified man.
“You bards and storytellers,” Selena said, not taking her eyes off Lucian. “You Ladies of the Moon. Listen carefully. The House of Gaian made Tir Alainn out of dreams and will. It is our power that made the shining roads to anchor this place to the world and keep it alive. What we gave we can take back. Or destroy. I have no wish to harm those who have done no harm, but I will not leave an enemy at my back when all of Sylvalan is at risk. So I will give the Fae this choice: The rest of Sylvalan is going to war against the Inquisitors and the barons they control. You will either fight with us, and earn your place in the world, or you will stay here.”
Lucian brushed the sleeve of his coat with a shaking hand. “At least you’re being sensible about this.”
“You misunderstand, Lightbringer.” Selena waited until he looked at her. “If you choose to stay in Tir Alainn, then here is where you will stay. Forever. We will close the shining roads. Oh, we won’t destroy them as the Black Coats did when they slaughtered the witches. We will simply turn the shining roads into ropes. They will still anchor your Fair Land…but there isn’t any one of you who will be able to get down that rope to the human world. You will have your Tir Alainn—and that is all you will have. Forever.”
She looked back at the other Fae, sitting pale and silent, too frightened now to dare speak. “Send that message to all the Clans, and send it swiftly. You have until the full moon to decide. If you do not decide then, we will decide for you.”
“D-do no harm,” Lucian stammered. “That’s your creed. We’re the Fae, the Mother’s Children. You can’t harm us.”
At that moment, he looked more like a terrified child desperately seeking reassurance than a grown man.
“Please, take her. Please.”
Cold, cold eyes.
“My pets will tear her flesh and drink her blood…. And then they will devour her soul.”
“Lightbringer,” Selena said with terrible gentleness, “anyone who makes the mistake of trying to use our creed as a weapon against us does not understand the House of Gaian…or the ones who live in the Mother’s Hills.”
As she walked back into the Clan house to pack her saddl
ebags, she heard someone hurrying to catch up to her.
“Lady,” Gwynith said shakily. “Huntress? Oh, Selena, please listen!”
Selena stopped and waited. “Come up to my room. We can talk while I pack.”
Gwynith managed to keep silent until they’d reached Selena’s room and the door was closed. Then the words spilled out.
“Selena…Lady…if some of the Clans refuse to help, you won’t punish all of the Fae, will you? You won’t close all of Tir Alainn away from the world, will you?”
Selena removed her saddlebags from the wardrobe, walked around Gwynith, and put them on the bed. “You said you don’t live in Tir Alainn. Why would it matter?”
“I don’t live there. Most of the Clan only goes there a few days each season to rest. But our elders live there. The weather is milder and the work is easier. Don’t they deserve some ease in their autumn years? And…and anyone in the Clan who is seriously ill or injured is taken to Tir Alainn to heal. If you close off all the Clan territories, our elders will be alone.”
Selena retrieved her clothes from the wardrobe, folded them carefully, and filled one saddlebag. “Do the witches ever go to Tir Alainn?”
Gwynith linked her fingers and twisted them so hard Selena expected to hear a bone snap at any second.
“Sometimes,” Gwynith said cautiously. “They need to rest from the labors of the world, too. And one time, when my cousin’s mother got lung fever during a bad winter, she stayed at the Clan house in Tir Alainn for a month to make sure she had recovered. The Clan matriarchs invite her to spend a turn of the moon with them in Tir Alainn every winter to help her stay strong and healthy.”
And that kindness is why your piece of Tir Alainn remains strong and healthy. A witch’s roots are in the real world. She would draw in the strength from the Mother’s branches and breathe it out again. As Tir Alainn gives her the peace to renew body and heart, she renews Tir Alainn.
Selena walked around Gwynith again to reach the dressing table. She could have asked Gwynith to move, since the woman had chosen to stand in the one spot in the room that put her in the way no matter what Selena was trying to reach, but Gwynith was so distressed right now, even a simple request might bring on a collapse.
“You said the western Clans are willing to defend Sylvalan?” Selena asked as she began packing her toiletries in the other saddlebag.
“They were gathering at the Hunter’s command when I left to come to this Old Place.”
The Hunter. Did the Fae remember who the Hunter was, or were the Crones in the Mother’s Hills the only ones who still knew the old stories and passed them down to be remembered?
“The Hunter is in the west?” Selena asked carefully. She went back to the dressing table for her comb and brush. She stayed there, moving her hand idly to look occupied while she watched Gwynith in the mirror.
“The Hunter is traveling east,” Gwynith said.
“With Lady Ashk?”
A hesitation. Too long a hesitation.
Selena liked Gwynith, but how much she trusted her now depended on this answer.
“Lady Ashk is the Hunter,” Gwynith said reluctantly. She glanced over, her eyes meeting Selena’s in the mirror.
Selena sat on the dressing table stool and turned to face Gwynith. “The Green Lord is a woman?”
“The Green Lady,” Gwynith said, bristling.
Quick to defend her, aren’t you? Selena thought. And proud of her—and wary of her as well. As you should be.
“I imagine that twisted the Fae’s tail in a knot when she ascended and took the old Lord’s place.”
“The Fae outside the west don’t know,” Gwynith said quickly. “If they had known, the Lords of the Woods outside the west would have refused to accept that she’d ascended and would have kept challenging her. And after she’d married Baron Padrick and was heavy with their first child, she couldn’t safely accept a challenge, could she? So she stayed in the west, and…the Clans in the west listen to Ashk.”
Selena held up a hand to stop Gwynith. “Wait. The Hunter is a woman who, somehow, hid the fact that she was a woman from the rest of the Fae because she married a gentry baron and had his child?”
“Children,” Gwynith said, sounding sulky. “They have two. And it’s not as strange as it sounds because Baron Padrick is also Fae.”
Selena laughed. She couldn’t help it. “I’m sorry,” she gasped between giggles. “I’m sorry. I don’t mean to offend, but…Mother’s tits, Gwynith, even a storyteller couldn’t come up with something like that and expect to be believed.”
Gwynith tried to look offended, but ended up smiling. “I know.”
Selena realized she no longer felt any heat beneath her skin. Good. The laughter had banked the last bit of temper. Now she could deal with the rest. “What happens to the Fae will be decided at the full moon. But I don’t think the western Clans need to worry. However, it might be in everyone’s best interest if the Hunter and I can meet before then.”
“I’m not sure if she was headed straight to Willowsbrook,” Gwynith said. “But one of the escorts may have been told her direction since she would want news about the Lady of the Moon. I could send an escort with a letter, asking her to meet you at Willowsbrook before the full moon, if that is acceptable to you.”
“That is acceptable.” Selena walked over to the bed, tucked her comb and brush in the saddlebag, and secured the straps. She reached to lift the saddlebags, then let her hand drop. “Didn’t the Fae in the west disapprove of the Hunter taking a gentry baron for a mate, even if he is Fae?”
Gwynith gave her an odd look. “No, we didn’t disapprove. But then, we know Ashk.”
The bards, storytellers, the Ladies of the Moon, and their escorts stood between Selena and the stables where Mistrunner pawed the ground. Any moment now, he would charge through the people to reach her.
“Easy,” she said.
His only response was an angry snort, but he stopped pawing the ground.
The three bards took a step forward, more pale and frightened than when she’d summoned the storm.
“Huntress,” one bard said, raising his hand in a plea. “You’re leaving Tir Alainn?”
“I am,” Selena replied.
“But…how will we let you know that the Clans have obeyed your command? How will we send word? And…when the huntsmen come down to the human world, where are they supposed to go?”
“And where is the Bard supposed to meet you?” another bard asked. “We’ve already sent word that you want to see him, but we couldn’t tell him where.”
Wondering how coherent a message three frightened bards could shape, Selena said, “He can find me at the Old Place closest to Willowsbrook. As for the huntsmen…” She thought a moment. There would be losses when the Inquisitors’ army marched across Sylvalan. Villages would burn. People would die. She wasn’t going to be able to prevent all of it. She wasn’t going to be able to prevent the deaths of any witches in the path of that army. But if she could block the Black Coats enough, she could force them onto a battleground that could not only be defended but could defend itself. There were reasons why no one with intent to do harm dared enter the Mother’s Hills. “The Fae hunts-men should gather at the northern and southern ends of the Mother’s Hills, blocking the way into the midlands. Hold those roads and we can keep them out.”
“Block the roads and it’s easy enough to go cross-country,” one of Gwynith’s escorts said.
“Easy for the Fae,” Selena agreed. “But the Inquisitors and the eastern barons will have a human army. They’ll use the roads. It’s too easy to get lost in unfamiliar land. And angry land can be quite dangerous to travel through,” she added softly.
She felt the tension crackle in the air as the people in front of her realized once again that the earth magic they’d thought of as useful but harmless could be deadly.
“The western coast is already being protected,” she continued, looking at Gwynith, who nodded. “The Clans near
est the midland coastline should be on guard for any ships that enter the harbors there. If the Inquisitors can’t come in by land, they may try to come in by sea.”
One of the other western Ladies lifted her hand. “I come from a Clan near the coast, almost at the border between the midlands and the west. Any ships trying to reach the west would have to pass between the mainland and Selkie Island. If the Lord of the Selkies was warned…Well, it’s been said that no ship passes Selkie Island unless it pleases Lord Murtagh to allow it to pass.”
“Will you send the message to him?” Selena asked.
“I will, Lady.”
“Huntress,” Gwynith’s escort said, “if the coast is blocked as well as the north and south…Well, I’d try to drive an army right through the center.”
“Exactly,” Selena agreed.
“But…the Mother’s Hills would be in the way.”
“Yes, the Mother’s Hills—and the House of Gaian—would be in the way.”
They all stared at her.
“You would send the Black Coats’ army against your own people?” Gwynith asked, sounding horrified.
Selena smiled. “They have to reach the Mother’s Hills first.”
“Roads,” Gwynith’s escort said.
Selena opened the branch of water, found the well near the stables, and called a thin stream of water to her. The water found its way up through the earth near her left foot. “Earth and water. Mud.” Calling air and earth, she circled her right hand until a swirling wind picked up some earth and rose waist high. “Earth and air.”
She wanted to laugh at the way they stared at her little dust whirl. When they were children, she and Rhyann used to make these little whirls and have races—until the day the dust whirls got away from them and collided with the laundry their mother had just hung out to dry.
She banked the connection with water so the water would remain in the well. She slowly banked the wind until the earth it had gathered once more rested with the rest of the land.
“You all have tasks to perform,” she said. “And so do I.”
Before Gwynith could join the other western Ladies, Selena touched her arm to indicate she wanted to speak to her and walked far enough away to keep the conversation private from the other Fae.
