The House Of Gaian

cried out, “The shining road is fading!” Another cried, “The mist!”
    Dianna twisted in the saddle. The mist was creeping across the land, a wall more formidable than any wall of stone could be. She twisted back around and stood in the stirrups to look at the road. It was flickering now, fading. When it vanished, the mist would consume everything. Everyone.
    “ No !” She threw herself out of the saddle, heedless of the pain the movement caused in her arm, equally unaware that she’d shoved the woman with the babe to the ground in her haste. They would never find the bridges in all that mist, even if the bridges still existed. The shining road had to stay open long enough for them to escape.
    Escape where? To a fast death rather than a slow one?
    She didn’t know, didn’t care. She flung herself at the shining road, closing her left hand over that flickering shimmer.
     
    Power flooded out of her, making her gasp. Down her arm, through her hand, flowing into the flickering golden air enclosed by her hand. Down, down, racing down until it touched something old, something that was still strong. The golden air stopped flickering as power flowed back up to her hand, her arm.
    Not filling her, not giving back as much as it took, but completing a circle.
    More power flowed out of her, draining her strength before the circle of power sent it back. Different somehow when it came back. She could almost smell earth, almost hear the ominous rolls of thunder, almost feel the lash of rain that gave the land more nourishment than just water. Power, soaking back into the land, flowing back up to that bit of shining road to anchor Tir Alainn.
    Gasping, weeping, she felt someone’s arm around her shoulders, felt a hand close around her left wrist.
    “That’s enough now, Dianna. That’s enough. You did well, darling girl. You did well.”
    With effort, she opened her hand. Watched it shake as she held it above a shining rope no more than three fingers wide. A Fae whose other form was a tiny whoo-it owl might be able to walk down that rope to the human world, but nothing else would be able to escape.
    “You did well, Dianna,” Sorcha said again. “You’ve given us a chance to survive.”
    Dianna just stared at the shining rope.
    “Sorcha!” a man yelled. “The mist has stopped moving forward!”
    She felt Sorcha’s forehead rest on her shoulder for a moment.
    “What do we do now?” a woman asked.
    Sorcha slowly got to her feet. “We survive. That’s what we do.”
    “ How ?” someone wailed.
    Sorcha huffed. “We turn over some of the flower gardens and plant more vegetables. We turn the earth on some of the open land and plant grain, which will hopefully be able to feed the horses we keep. The cock and hens that were recently acquired in the human world for the cookpot will be kept for eggs, and if the cock does his duty, we’ll get chicks from some of those eggs, and when they grow, we’ll have more food. It will be hard for all of us, and it’s going to be some time before any of us goes to bed with a full belly. But thanks to Dianna’s gift, we still have an anchor to the human world—enough to keep our piece of Tir Alainn. If there are witches with the power to close a road, then they must also have the power to open one.”
    “How long will that take?” someone asked fearfully. “When will the Huntress come and free us?”
    Sorcha shook her head. “The Huntress and the Hunter and all the Fae who are joining them to fight must defeat the armies the Black Coats have set against Sylvalan. They must drive the Black Coats and their followers out of the land. Until that is done, they cannot spare thought or strength for anything else. So we will wait until the shining road is opened again—and we will survive.”
    “The new Huntress is very powerful. She’ll defeat the Black Coats.”
    “With the Hunter joining the fight, it won’t take long to rid Sylvalan of these creatures.”
    “The shining road will be open again before the season changes.”
    Voices swirled around her. Hopeful. Fearful. It made no difference. Dianna stared at the shining rope.

    She heard Sorcha giving orders to take the wounded man to the Clan house, heard someone else say it was fortunate the Clan’s healer hadn’t gone down to the human world.
    Voices swirled around her as the Fae slowly returned to the Clan house, still not realizing how much their lives had changed. It made no difference. She just stared at the