Niamh knelt at the very edge of the land surrounding the little cottage she shared with Brishen, punching violently at the earth as she turned it, making it ready to receive herbs she could not put off planting any longer. She was unnerved by last night's encounter, dealing with her jittery feelings the only way she knew how.
She had risen late, which in itself was a worrying sign. Usually the first up in the house, and in the dead of winter that meant several hours before dawn, today Niamh had slept through almost to midday, waking up groggy and aching after her exertions from the night before. She would never forget the relief that heated her blood upon opening her eyes ot find Brishen still lying beside her. Long though her sleep had been, it had been haunted by the mocking voice of that elusive female, promising to visit him in his dreams.
The first thing she had done, despite Brishen's ever-present concern over her even attempting to tap her new-found power, was to check that the wards surrounding both their home and Lilli's - wards forged from Fire and Air and the Goddess' wisdom - were still intact, that no one had managed to breach them as she slept.
The second was to centre herself as best she could. Reassured that his dark-haired lover was not ailing from their encounter with the unknown the night before, Brishen stood back and let her get on with it, knowing there were some things you did not interfere with. Especially when Niamh was determined. A bath was run, hot enough to burn, and sea salt added to the water to cleanse and purify as she bathed. And in the thick, sweating quiet of the bathroom, she remembered and analysed and understood what had happened less than a score-and-four hours ago.
It had been a confused muddled of thoughts and feelings she had had to sort through. The anger was easiest to define, more difficult to set aside. Its source was several - one, that any being would dare to threaten her family. Lilli had told them, finally, that she had strengthened her wards following an encounter with two 'beasties' who had seen fit to insist that she move on or give up her land to them. The fiery-haired witch had not given way, and the beings had retreated, but Lilli was certain they would be back.
Two - that any woman alive or dead could have the audacity to try and lure Brishen from her under her very nose. This anger was rooted in fear, too; fear that he might have fallen under that spell, and left her alone to fight with a broken heart. But it was a needless fear. He had shown last night that his innate magic sense kept him from falling so easily, and - her skin flushed further in the privacy of the bathroom - had gone out of his way to convince her of his faithfulness once they were back within the warding of their home.
Three - that she was going to be told off soundly by both Brishen and Lilli once they were absolutely certain she was well, simply for tapping into the power within her. It wasn't exactly her fault she had done it, but the resentment had been brewing for a while. She understood their concerns, of course she did. But that didn't stop her from resenting the fact that while they could use their power as they saw fit, she had to rein it in and behave herself.
Then there was the fear. To her shock, she discovered during her ritual that the fear which gripped hardest was not that of losing her family, nor of being attacked herself. It was a fear of herself, of the potential within her to harm or even kill. Last night had been an experience she would rather not repeat, and yet she was deathly afraid that having brought the attention of that creature down upon her, she would have no choice but to repeat it.
Never before had she lost control of the swirling power within her, never before had she displayed such raw talent in the element of her mother's gifting. One of the Great Five, Air had come to her fingertips, surged through her blood, feeding off her fear and anger until she almost could not recognise herself. And yet, in the midst of all that out of control magic, there had been a moment of clarity, a moment in which she had directed and used the power, when she had struck out in anger. That was what frightened her.
Though no one was hurt, she had been left shaken, needing Brishen's aid even to stand straight as the power left her grasp once again. But she'd felt the power, oh yes. So much, it seemed to rise up and overwhelm her. And yet the little she had grasped of it in the Inn had truly been a drop in an ocean. Silently, she cursed her mother's blood in her veins, the unfairness of her heritage. Why couldn't her mother have been normal, why did she have to be a Queen of the Sidhe?
But she could not hide away in the bathtub forever, and so Niamh had moved onto her third task. Out here, in the cold, foggy rain, she had fallen to her knees and decimated her herb garden, before pacing out the outer boundary of their land, the edge of the warding that held it. Every three feet, she placed a herb for planting, until the cottage was surrounded.
Herbs for protection, bound at the root with a strand of her hair. It was Old Magic, magic she had learned from her mother when she had believed such things to be ritual and nothing more. Yet more and more, the longer she lived in RhyDin, she was finding that those old stories and warnings were serving her good purpose.
Comfrey, rosemary, St John's Wort, all spaced evenly about the boundary of their land, worked into the soil with her bare hands and bound with a single strand of her hair. And hyssop, to grant passage through those wards to Lilliana's lover, whose draconian nature should be touched with welcome by that herb's potency.
One more task, and it was one she needed only to finish as the light faded from the little clearing altogether. The old rowan tree that stood between Lilli's land and their own - it would make a good link for safe passage between kin. Taking another risk she was certain to be berated for, Niamh gathered an armful of bramble and ivy, and stepped from the safety of the wards to seek out the old rowan.
Feeling all the while as though eyes were on her, she worked quickly, planting bramble and ivy at the base of the tree, and winding them up and about the trunk and branches. The bramble was teased to then begin its slow creep back towards the cottage ... the ivy towards Lilli's caravan. Niamh laid her hands against the rowan's trunk, heedless of the rash rising from the ivy, and the numerous cuts from bramblethorn.
Reaching deep within herself, she turned her thoughts to the Goddess to whom her life had been dedicated at her birth, murmuring the greeting, the summoning, offering her blood against the greenery beneath her hands in payment for what she was about to ask. Her fingers wrapped about the outlying strands of ivy and bramble as she knelt, offering up her request.
"Stretch them, twist them, help them grow
Like a river, let them flow
Three times three the speed to spin
Safe passage here from kith to kin ..."
She did not need to stay to see the spell take hold. As she hurried back towards the cottage, she could hear the greenery creak and rustle as the Goddess answered her plea. Through the night, bramble and ivy would twist and stretch, and create a warded, safe passage between the warded holdings of Garridan and McClae.
Back across the boundary of the warding, and Niamh slumped down to her knees. She had exhausted herself once again, bent over the freshly turned earth as she fought for breath, her blood seeping into the soil from the cuts on her hands and arms. One thing was for sure ... Lilli and Brishen were going to have a field day with her day's work.
She had risen late, which in itself was a worrying sign. Usually the first up in the house, and in the dead of winter that meant several hours before dawn, today Niamh had slept through almost to midday, waking up groggy and aching after her exertions from the night before. She would never forget the relief that heated her blood upon opening her eyes ot find Brishen still lying beside her. Long though her sleep had been, it had been haunted by the mocking voice of that elusive female, promising to visit him in his dreams.
The first thing she had done, despite Brishen's ever-present concern over her even attempting to tap her new-found power, was to check that the wards surrounding both their home and Lilli's - wards forged from Fire and Air and the Goddess' wisdom - were still intact, that no one had managed to breach them as she slept.
The second was to centre herself as best she could. Reassured that his dark-haired lover was not ailing from their encounter with the unknown the night before, Brishen stood back and let her get on with it, knowing there were some things you did not interfere with. Especially when Niamh was determined. A bath was run, hot enough to burn, and sea salt added to the water to cleanse and purify as she bathed. And in the thick, sweating quiet of the bathroom, she remembered and analysed and understood what had happened less than a score-and-four hours ago.
It had been a confused muddled of thoughts and feelings she had had to sort through. The anger was easiest to define, more difficult to set aside. Its source was several - one, that any being would dare to threaten her family. Lilli had told them, finally, that she had strengthened her wards following an encounter with two 'beasties' who had seen fit to insist that she move on or give up her land to them. The fiery-haired witch had not given way, and the beings had retreated, but Lilli was certain they would be back.
Two - that any woman alive or dead could have the audacity to try and lure Brishen from her under her very nose. This anger was rooted in fear, too; fear that he might have fallen under that spell, and left her alone to fight with a broken heart. But it was a needless fear. He had shown last night that his innate magic sense kept him from falling so easily, and - her skin flushed further in the privacy of the bathroom - had gone out of his way to convince her of his faithfulness once they were back within the warding of their home.
Three - that she was going to be told off soundly by both Brishen and Lilli once they were absolutely certain she was well, simply for tapping into the power within her. It wasn't exactly her fault she had done it, but the resentment had been brewing for a while. She understood their concerns, of course she did. But that didn't stop her from resenting the fact that while they could use their power as they saw fit, she had to rein it in and behave herself.
Then there was the fear. To her shock, she discovered during her ritual that the fear which gripped hardest was not that of losing her family, nor of being attacked herself. It was a fear of herself, of the potential within her to harm or even kill. Last night had been an experience she would rather not repeat, and yet she was deathly afraid that having brought the attention of that creature down upon her, she would have no choice but to repeat it.
Never before had she lost control of the swirling power within her, never before had she displayed such raw talent in the element of her mother's gifting. One of the Great Five, Air had come to her fingertips, surged through her blood, feeding off her fear and anger until she almost could not recognise herself. And yet, in the midst of all that out of control magic, there had been a moment of clarity, a moment in which she had directed and used the power, when she had struck out in anger. That was what frightened her.
Though no one was hurt, she had been left shaken, needing Brishen's aid even to stand straight as the power left her grasp once again. But she'd felt the power, oh yes. So much, it seemed to rise up and overwhelm her. And yet the little she had grasped of it in the Inn had truly been a drop in an ocean. Silently, she cursed her mother's blood in her veins, the unfairness of her heritage. Why couldn't her mother have been normal, why did she have to be a Queen of the Sidhe?
But she could not hide away in the bathtub forever, and so Niamh had moved onto her third task. Out here, in the cold, foggy rain, she had fallen to her knees and decimated her herb garden, before pacing out the outer boundary of their land, the edge of the warding that held it. Every three feet, she placed a herb for planting, until the cottage was surrounded.
Herbs for protection, bound at the root with a strand of her hair. It was Old Magic, magic she had learned from her mother when she had believed such things to be ritual and nothing more. Yet more and more, the longer she lived in RhyDin, she was finding that those old stories and warnings were serving her good purpose.
Comfrey, rosemary, St John's Wort, all spaced evenly about the boundary of their land, worked into the soil with her bare hands and bound with a single strand of her hair. And hyssop, to grant passage through those wards to Lilliana's lover, whose draconian nature should be touched with welcome by that herb's potency.
One more task, and it was one she needed only to finish as the light faded from the little clearing altogether. The old rowan tree that stood between Lilli's land and their own - it would make a good link for safe passage between kin. Taking another risk she was certain to be berated for, Niamh gathered an armful of bramble and ivy, and stepped from the safety of the wards to seek out the old rowan.
Feeling all the while as though eyes were on her, she worked quickly, planting bramble and ivy at the base of the tree, and winding them up and about the trunk and branches. The bramble was teased to then begin its slow creep back towards the cottage ... the ivy towards Lilli's caravan. Niamh laid her hands against the rowan's trunk, heedless of the rash rising from the ivy, and the numerous cuts from bramblethorn.
Reaching deep within herself, she turned her thoughts to the Goddess to whom her life had been dedicated at her birth, murmuring the greeting, the summoning, offering her blood against the greenery beneath her hands in payment for what she was about to ask. Her fingers wrapped about the outlying strands of ivy and bramble as she knelt, offering up her request.
"Stretch them, twist them, help them grow
Like a river, let them flow
Three times three the speed to spin
Safe passage here from kith to kin ..."
She did not need to stay to see the spell take hold. As she hurried back towards the cottage, she could hear the greenery creak and rustle as the Goddess answered her plea. Through the night, bramble and ivy would twist and stretch, and create a warded, safe passage between the warded holdings of Garridan and McClae.
Back across the boundary of the warding, and Niamh slumped down to her knees. She had exhausted herself once again, bent over the freshly turned earth as she fought for breath, her blood seeping into the soil from the cuts on her hands and arms. One thing was for sure ... Lilli and Brishen were going to have a field day with her day's work.