The Rabbit and the Raven: Book Two in the Solas Beir Trilogy (9 page)

Gorman had told him a story about
gryphons—those proud eagles with the bodies of lions. They were symbolic of nobility, strength, and protection, and renowned for being judicious. No one would mistake them for being cuddly. David thought Erela might be like that, only a different species of predator. The word “valkyrie” came to mind, but even that didn’t seem to be the correct classification for her. He didn’t know
what
she was, or how she had come to serve on his council. He was certain, however, that it was better that she be for him than against him.

Whereas Erela was unemotional, Fergal was warm and engaging, showering his students with passionate praise. Cael recruited the tiny aquatic faery to teach fencing. His enthusiasm was incorrigible—David and his fellow trainees couldn’t help but enjoy the dance of the sword with him cheering them on.

Fergal
was not to be underestimated. The stories of how he had valiantly assisted in the Solas Beir’s return made him a living legend, and with his lightning quick swordplay, they were not tales anyone would doubt. Fergal was fearless, and above all else, held himself to the highest standards of honor. He had the soul of a true knight, even though he was the smallest soldier in the kingdom and resembled an amphibian—Fergal’s skin was a mottled green and his hands and feet were webbed.

Exhausted from their latest whirlwind sparring session, Fergal and his students lay on their backs in the grass, gazing up into the
gnarled branches of an ancient tree. Sunlight filtered through leaves that gently turned on the breeze, dotting their faces with dancing, botanical shadows.

“Fergal,” David said, tucking his hands behind his head, “when you shape-shift, you become a frog, right?”

“Yes, Your Majesty. So I do,” Fergal replied.

“How does that work?” David questioned.

“I beg your pardon, Sire, but that is a strange question,” Fergal remarked. He propped himself up on his elbows. “I never gave it much thought. It seems perfectly natural—I will myself to change and I do. Simple as that.”

“Can you show us?” Abby asked. She sat up and crossed her legs, staring at the faery expectantly.

“Of course,” the small faery nodded. Standing up, he straightened his periwinkle waistcoat, plucking a stray blade of grass from the jacquard silk. He blinked his large, gold-ringed black eyes and shivered slightly. His faery form melted away instantly, lingering as ash in the air, leaving a tiny, chirping frog. Abby held out her hand and he hopped into her palm. Then he blinked his eyes again, his body quivered slightly, and the process reversed, leaving Fergal standing in the frog’s place.

“Brilliant!” Jon exclaimed.

Marisol applauded, a look of childlike delight lighting up her face.

Fergal took a dignified bow. “Thank you.” He leapt gracefully from Abby’s palm to return to his place under the tree.

“That was amazing!” Abby said. “So, I’ve been meaning to ask you, Fergal…Eulalia becomes a white doe, and I know that white symbolizes royalty here. Is her doe white because she’s a noble?”

“A keen observation,” Fergal smiled. “The answer is yes. Eulalia is of noble heritage, and all the members of her family have had white totems.”

“But what about Eulalia’s sister, Lucia?” Marisol asked. “Isn’t her panther black?”

Fergal nodded gravely. “
Indeed. But this was not always so. Lucia once had the ability to become a powerful white panther. After she feasted with Tierney, she grew in strength and power, but her totem changed,” he answered. “This is not to say, however, that all the black-colored animals you find in Cai Terenmare belong to the Darkness. The ravens of Caislucis, as you know, are creatures of the Light.” Fergal turned to David. “As heir to the throne, your father was born to nobility as well, of course. Your father’s spirit bear was white, and your form, whatever that may be, will be white also.”

“So the last Solas Beir became a polar bear?” Jon asked.

“No, not a polar bear,” Abby answered. “A spirit bear—it’s a type of black bear with white fur that was revered by the indigenous people of Canada.”

“Know-it-all,” Jon smirked.
“And how do you know this?”

“My fellow
know-it-all Ciaran told me about it,” Abby said to Jon. She turned to Marisol. “He’s five and he
really
likes animals.”

Fergal chuckled, nodding in agreement. It was no secret he was very fond of the Buchan children. “I too have heard a few of Ciaran’s animal stories,” he smiled. “They are quite informative.”

“Oh, all right—I take it back,” Jon said. “Ciaran is not a know-it-all.”

Abby ignored Jon and continued. “Anyway, Ciaran’s dad is into legends and culture. Riordan told me that across the mythology of our world, white animals are often considered sacred, and it’s supposed to be good luck to see one.”

“I concur,” Fergal said. “Although not every white animal in your world is one of us disguised in spirit form. Often, white animals in your world simply lack pigment. Just as not every black cat is evil, contrary to human superstition. Not that the superstition is not at times grounded in truth, as you all have witnessed from your own encounters with the Kruorumbrae.”

“But then, most of you shift into something that looks like the regular, naturally colored form of an animal, like your frog?” David
asked.

“Correct. All the better to blend in, no?” Fergal gave David a sly wink.

“Very clever, my friend. You just want to keep us on our toes,” David smiled.

Fergal grinned and leapt to his feet, brandishing his sword. “It is all part of my secret plan to make better swordsmen of you. En garde, Solas Beir.”

Chapter Four

C’AISLINGAER

A
bby was dreaming. She had always had vivid dreams, but in Cai Terenmare, her dreams had taken on a quality that made it difficult to know the difference between her visions and reality.

In her dream, she was running from something dark, but she felt so small, like she was running on tiny legs. As fast as she might be, she could never outrun the gathering darkness that loomed over her like a storm. Her vision was blurred as if there were a dark fog around her, and she began to cough as thick black smoke filled her lungs. She was suffocating on some kind of evil vapor. Then, out of the darkness came a shape filled with light, and the smoke began to clear. It was a white lion. “David,” she said, and woke up.

In his room, David was also dreaming. “Abby,” he whispered, and reached for her in his sleep.

Sitting up, Abby looked around her room. Her nightmare had been terrifying, but the image that stayed with her was the lion—she had felt such a sense of peace about him, that he was powerful and good.
Could it be him?
she thought. She didn’t know for sure if the lion was David’s totem, but something about the way the lion moved reminded her of David’s presence and the peace she felt when he was near.

Her thought was interrupted by something rustling. It startled her at first, but then, more curious than afraid, she got out of bed to investigate. The sound seemed to be coming from her balcony.

As Abby passed under the ivory arch into the crisp night air, she could smell the ocean in the breeze. Perched on the carved marble railing of her balcony was a black shape. Two eyes rimmed in gold peered at her from the darkness.

“Brarn,” she whispered.

The raven nodded as if in acknowledgment and flew to her outstretched hands. She stroked his feathers affectionately and brought him into her room. “How did you get here?” Abby asked, thinking he wouldn’t answer, but asking just the same.

The raven cocked his head at her and she laughed.

“Never mind,” Abby said. “Oh sorry, I mean, ‘nevermore.’ If I put you down on my chair, will you still be here when I wake up in the morning?”

He answered with another cock of his head, so she put him down on the wooden-spindled chair beside her bed. “All right. Good night, Brarn. See you in the morning.”

“Morning,” Brarn croaked in his raspy voice. “Good night.”

“Exactly,” Abby murmured sleepily, pulling the warm blankets back up to her shoulders.

He was still there when she woke several hours later, and she brought him downstairs to the banquet room to show the others.

Eulalia, Nysa, and Fergal seemed especially happy to see him. “I am glad he has come home,” Eulalia said. “I was worried about him staying in your world.”

“Me too,” Abby replied. “How
did
he get here?”

“Ravens have always had the uncanny ability to transcend the boundaries of our worlds, so long as a portal is open,” Eulalia explained.

“So now that we restored one, he’s back in business,” Abby concluded.

“It appears so,” Eulalia agreed, smiling.

Brarn had joined Fergal and Nysa in sitting on top of the breakfast table. They communed as old friends, sharing the meal without needing to say anything at all.

“I think I had a dream about you last night,” David said.

Abby and David were sitting on an ornately carved wooden bench outside Eulalia’s chambers, waiting to meet with her for a discussion o
n dreamwalking. Eulalia thought it would be helpful for them to practice walking in their dreams together, in preparation for their upcoming journeys.

“I don’t remember all of it,” David began, “but it seemed like you were very frightened of something—you were running—and then I reached for you and told you everything would be okay.”

“That was what I dreamed about too! Well, it was something very similar...do you think we made a connection?” Abby asked.

“Could be,” he said, slipping his arm around her. “Do you remember any more of your dream?”

She nodded. “There was this black darkness that was coming for me, and it was all around me, like smoke. I was trying to run from it, but it was choking me.”

“Ugh—sounds horrible,” David grimaced.

“It was,” Abby confirmed. “But then everything was okay because you came to me and pushed the darkness away. Well, I
think
it was you—it felt like your spirit—I think I saw you in your animal form.”

“Really? That’s awesome!” David’s face lit up with excitement. “Tell me I was
something fierce, and not pathetic—like a tiny mouse. Or a hamster.”

Abby smiled slyly. “Something fierce, huh?”

“Yes, please.” He had a hopeful look in his eyes.

“Well, I’m very sorry to disappoint you, but you were a…” She paused for effect.

“What? What was I?” David asked. He looked worried.

“You were a weasel.”

“What?!” His mouth dropped open in surprise, and then he frowned. “That’s not cool.”

Abby shrugged. “Sorry, kid, I don’t write the future, I just see and say.” She patted his hand sympathetically. “On the bright side, weasels
are
pretty fierce, aren’t they? Or is that wolverines? You were definitely weasel-
ish
though—very, very tiny and rodentlike. Actually, now that I think about it, maybe you were a ferret. I saw one in a pet store once. It seemed friendly.”

David stared at her. “You have
got
to be kidding me.”

Abby grinned. “Totally am.”

“Really?” The hopeful look returned to his eyes.

“Really,” she said, nodding. “I saw a white lion.”

“Now
that
is wicked cool.” David smiled to himself.

Abby laughed and playfully punched his arm. “Yeah, dude. That’s
wicked
fierce.”

“You little tease.” David reached for her, and she slid away from him, giggling. “And then you make fun of me?” He scooted toward her and she tried to escape, but she was laughing too hard. He caught her and pulled her back to his side of the bench, then scooped her onto his lap, pinning her against his chest. “There. That’s better. Now, to think of a punishment for your impudence…”