Read Online Sign of the Throne: Book One in the Solas Beir Trilogy by Melissa Eskue Ousley - Free Book Online Page A

and wrapped it around Abby’s shoulders. “It’s okay, sweetie,” Cassandra whispered as she sat down next to Abby. “Everything’s okay.”
    At that, Abby began crying, and Cassandra wrapped her arm around her. They sat in silence until Riordan returned, carrying a tray with three steaming mugs. Abby mumbled her thanks as she took her mug. The warmth of the cup felt good in her hands, and the sweet drink was comforting.
    “Okay then. Can you tell us what happened, Abby?” Cassandra asked.
    “You won’t believe me,” Abby resisted.
    “I promise I’ll—we’ll both—keep an open mind about whatever you have to say. We’ll take it very seriously,” Cassandra said.
    Abby studied their faces. Cassandra’s eyes were kind, and Riordan looked worried, but ready to listen. She told them everything—the creature, the weird dreams about the shadows and David, and the white doe. “I don’t understand what it all means, but I am so…so scared. Your children are in danger. We might all be. I know that thing wanted to hurt me, and I don’t know why it didn’t,” she said.
    Neither Cassandra nor Riordan answered. From the thoughtful looks on their faces, both seemed to be considering the story. Abby hoped they believed her.
    “So…what do you think? Have I lost my mind?” she ventured.
    “Not necessarily,” Riordan said. “When I was doing research for my book, I read about something similar to this. There are stories in Scotland, and in Ireland too, folk stories about faeries and other creatures. In Iceland, they are called the huldufólk , ‘the hidden folk.’ There are lots of legends about magical tricksters who can change their appearance to fool humans, sometimes for their own protection, sometimes to hurt people, and sometimes just for their own amusement. A lot of these old stories were cautionary tales passed orally from generation to generation throughout the villages in the countryside as a warning to leave faery folk alone. Most of these creatures were considered beneficent, although some were evil. But some people disregarded the warnings—either because they didn’t believe in faery tales, or because they saw some reward in pursuing the creatures—rumors of treasure or having a wish granted. Either way, it didn’t usually end well. Or so the stories go.”
    “So, by tricksters, you mean leprechauns?” Abby asked. She felt calm now, her curiosity eclipsing her fear. In spite of the strangeness of the situation and the inherently irrational topic, Riordan’s rational approach and unruffled tone of voice were comforting, helping her disassociate from her nightmarish encounter.
    “Yes—and no,” Riordan answered. “Sure, leprechauns were part of the stories, and certainly are a popular icon in our society, what with St. Paddy’s Day, green beer, the pot o’ gold, Frosted Lucky Charms, and all that. And they did have a nasty reputation for being tricky. But no, I’m thinking of something else. There is a kind of hobgoblin called a phooka , which often appears in Irish folklore and is seen as a trickster—mostly a benevolent one, pulling harmless pranks, or even warning humans of impending danger. It seems to appear in a number of forms—as a shadow, smoke, or a variety of animals, all with black fur: cats, rabbits, goats, bulls…there even seem to be tales of similar shape-shifting creatures in South America that appear as jaguars. In many of the stories, like the ones about the talasam in Bulgaria, these creatures seem to prefer making homes in dark places where they are less likely to be disturbed: caves, attics, basements…” He smiled at Abby. “Perhaps they have even been the bogeyman in your closet or the dust bunny under your bed.”
    Abby found herself smiling back. She took another sip of hot chocolate. Riordan and Cassandra had already finished theirs.
    “The creatures definitely seem to have a dark side though, and in some cultures are considered evil spirits.”