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?