"You know this…this child? By name?" Baine questions me sharply. This must be the first level of a horrible voice she metes out to those that displease her. And I was the receiving end this time, let alone my initial response earlier in the day of that it should have been dealt with at the time of the ”birth”. "Then he cannot be Ciara's baby! What has happened here? What has become of her little one? Stop babbling with him and tell us!" I stand uncomfortable under Baine’s harsh glowering. I didn’t mean for Ciara to have come so close to a state of madness. I want to say I say didn’t meant it, but my mouth at times works faster than my head.

“I didn’t mean…” I start quietly. Should I tell them it’s not a child either? That this fae creature was brought here to die, that Ciara’s true child was probably under the care in one the Veils and this changeling was centuries of centuries old? Covering my face a growl from deep in my chest burns, ”Thrice curse the courts! This is no fault of mine! Nor hers!” I point at the brokenhearted Ciara before crossing my arms and using my own glare at the changeling, “Meddling faeries…”

“Courts? What courts? Go get Ciara’s baby then! You’re Sidhe,” growls Baine from Ciara’s side. She’s started a worried hiccupping and looks more than bewildered. Coldly I look at Baine drawing myself up to all my short stature will allow. I take the few steps it takes to get to the other two women without taking my eyes from Baine. When I reach the two I switch my gaze to Ciara, penetrating those scared, white rimmed, blue eyes. “Stop it! What are you doing!?” Ciara closes her eyes. Her breath slows down, the hiccupping tapers off and some blood returns to her features.

“It’s not that easy,” I reply barely over a dangerous whisper. I cut Baine’s next volley of accusatory questions with a flick of my wrist. “She’s only sleeping. I’ve done her no harm as was promised by Aedan.” Silently we stand there. Baine’s fists clench and unclench. Her eyes dart from me to the changeling. I can feel the anger of not understanding radiating off her like a raging summer bonfire. Dark ghostly wings seem to come from around her person as a warning to me. Does she know of this dark gift of hers? “I don’t which Veil he’s from or the age of his Court…,” I reach into my pouch and offer the changeling a biscuit snatched from Becuma’s hearth. “He’s near starving though, which doesn’t bode well for Ciara’s,” I say sadly letting my own fire die down. Baine wasn’t really angry with me, just the situation. Situations like these are hard for capable women.

The changeling greedily snatches the biscuit. ”Ner! Ner!” I look again to Baine as the changeling demands more food.

”I' firimar laito nauva kuila,” I ask the changeling. He shrugs as I reach for the bread on Ciara’s hearth. My heart aches for this women. I feel ashamed. This situation was more complicated than a strange birth. There would no answers for her even if the babe could be recovered. No wonder the folk of this clan were so Sidhe shy. A fertile and beautiful place with a weak spot in the Veil somewhere near here. I was away from my own home and needed to find a mortal babe in a realm where magics were often times needed for mere survival. Mine was weak at best, but I had other skills of survival. Sighing I find a seat and try to explain to Baine how some of the switches were handled in these older courts of the Unseelie.

“We…Ciara has to kindly take care of this thing until it dies!?” I give a noncommittal nod-shrug to Baine’s heated, but quiet question as to not wake the distraught mother. I feel my ears even beginning to droop down like my shoulders as I tend the old fae, but not out of his little cage.

”It doesn’t…She must have had a beautiful baby…” I had begun to say that it may not even matter how well the changeling is treated. They might not bring the babe back at all. I look pleadingly at Baine. Imbolc would be the only chance I’d have to try to slip into this local Veil. “I can try at Imbolc…Tell Ciara what you wish or try to make her think this was all a dream…He needs real food, not breast. The howling should stop anyway with real foods. If they give him a pipe or whistle, he might play…I’ll take him, when we go to the Imbolc rites…and, hopefully bring back Conall…”

Forlornly I rise from my seat. Toad seems to chirp something comforting. I leave Baine to deal with the fluttering eyelids of Ciara in peace. I’d be lucky if Aedan didn’t come for my blood when he gets back to his Ciara, possibly Baine if I’m really cursed this day. Maybe it would be best to tell my husband of this and hope there would be comfort in his arms and not more scolding…