“The sea king’s daughter, Nerine, saw Cael safely home,” Eulalia added.
“Because of her kindness and her loyalty to the kingdom, I recommend her for the post left vacant by the demise of the former Western Oracle,” Cael suggested. “Nerine attended David’s coronation and, politically, it cannot hurt his cause to have one of his own in a powerful position.”
“I agree,” David replied. “Is this something I need to run past the court council?”
“If you wish, I can speak to them on your behalf,” Cael said. “I am sure they will agree, and we can then send word to Nerine regarding the nomination. If she accepts, she will gain power over the seas stretching from the beaches below our castle to the cliffs along the Eastern Sea, where the Eastern Oracle holds court in his city.”
“Thank you, Cael,” David said. “I can think of no one better than Nerine for that role, and I appreciate your recommendation to me and your offer to speak about it to the council. Please move forward on that.”
Cael bowed his head respectfully. “Yes, Solas Beir.”
“I am concerned about the loyalty of the Eastern Oracle,” Eulalia divulged. “It is rumored that those in the Light and those of the Shadows dwell side by side in his city. I do not understand how that can be possible.”
The realm of the Eastern Oracle was located far from the western coast, and it was a stark contrast to the pastoral communities surrounding Caislucis. Separated from Caislucis by an enormous desert, not as vast as the Wasteland, but just as barren—and actually referred to as the Barren by locals—the city of the Eastern Oracle would be difficult to travel to. David’s father had closed all the portals within Cai Terenmare, as well as those leading to the human world, and communication had been limited. Eulalia had never met the current Eastern Oracle. As a general rule, only the Solas Beir met with oracles, and the Eastern Oracle was a pious traditionalist.
“Even with the extraordinary circumstances of the assassination of David’s father, the Eastern Oracle was not willing to meet with me or any of the ambassadors I had hoped to send, because I am a woman. There has been almost no communication with the east since Ardal’s death,” Eulalia explained. She looked at David. “I am worried that David will have great difficulty winning his loyalty, even though he holds the crown.”
“Perhaps if David gained the support of the Southern Oracle first, that would influence the Eastern Oracle to join our cause,” Cael mused.
“Perhaps,” Eulalia replied. The Southern Oracle was more of a wild card. Like the Western Oracle, he was rumored to be narcissistic and loyal to no one. “He seems unwilling to engage in the political conflict between those in the Light and the Shadows. Like the Northern Oracle, the Southern Oracle and his people are isolated, but not by distance and harsh, frozen terrain. He lives in the center of a thick rainforest, one with sprawling foliage that will make the journey treacherous, if not deadly, since many of the plants guarding his village are poisonous, carnivorous, or both. Legends describe horrific beasts and phantoms lurking in that dark forest, and as is often the case in this world, such stories have a nasty tendency to be true.”
“Great,” David muttered. “Well, I guess I’m up for a challenge.”
Abby squeezed his hand. “Me too.”
Cael glanced at Abby’s mother, who looked horrified. “Fear not,” he assured her. “I will travel with the Solas Beir and your daughter to ensure their safety.”
Bethany Brown nodded, but did not look any less worried. She gave Abby a stern look that said they would be having a discussion later.
Cael found he could not blame her for worrying, considering Abby had almost died once already.
“I visited the Southern Oracle’s village many years ago, when Ardal was still alive,” Eulalia said. “Traveling by portal, we avoided the dangers of the rainforest. I enjoyed the warm hospitality of his people, who embrace the dangers of their forest, revere them even, and in doing so, value their lives more. I remember the Southern Oracle as charismatic and full of life, and I suspect that he holds the same philosophy as his people. Perhaps that is why he seems loath to get involved in politics.”
“Indeed.” Cael nodded in agreement. “Choosing sides comes with serious consequences. But if David can win his loyalty, it will be a great victory for the Light.”
As David prepared for his journeys to the oracles and waited for word from Nerine, he began his training in earnest. As the new Solas Beir, and with the magical powers that came with his heritage, he had already gained experience with his abilities to fly and heal, but needed to learn about politics and combat. Eventually David would be able to weaken his enemies sufficiently so that he could end them by simply speaking a word, though this would take much time and dedication to his training.
Until he gained that level of mastery, however, it was time for school—and not just for David. Abby had much to learn about being a c’aislingaer, slang for cai aislingstraid—one who walks in dreams. And since she, Jon, and Marisol were not about to be left behind when David traveled to the outer realms of his kingdom, they too had work to do. They met with Gorman to learn about the history and politics of the kingdom, and David and Abby each had individual sessions with Eulalia to learn more about their abilities. David met often with Obelia and the other six council members, learning on the job, as it were.
At the large, round table in the room adjacent to the Great Hall, David met with the council to discuss the latest news of the realm.
Obelia scanned a piece of parchment before addressing the Solas Beir, Cael, and her fellow council members. “Solas Beir, reports have been coming in about several villages in the Great Plains being ravaged by Shadows. With rumors of Tierney’s escape, those in Darkness are growing bold again.”
David sighed. “It seems there’s no rest for the weary.”
Fedor of the Great Plains spoke up. “Your Majesty, I believe it is imperative that you meet with the plainspeople soon if you hope to win their trust.”
David looked at Cael. “What do you think, Cael?”
“I agree,” he responded, “but I would be hesitant to have you put yourself at risk again without combat training.”
As Solas Beir, David didn’t need Cael’s approval. He could have gone anyway, but he trusted Cael’s judgment and submitted to his guidance.
“All right,” David said. “When can we start?”
The more Marisol came to know Cael, the more she admired him. Cael supervised the combat training himself and coached her, David, Abby, and Jon on military strategies. He was pleased with their progress, and praised them often. Cael seemed to understand that while David could easily break the class curve by virtue of being Solas Beir, Marisol and his other human students also needed encouragement. He had high expectations, but he was fair. He recognized hard work, and that his pupils understood what was at stake.
For a girl who had shied away from conflict her whole life, Marisol found that she was quite adept at the logic involved with strategies for battle, and not too shabby with the hand-to-hand stuff either.
When she knocked Jon flat on the training lawn—again—Marisol apologized. “Sorry! It’s only because I took mixed martial arts when I was a kid.” He was sprawled on the ground, trying to catch his breath after getting the wind knocked out of him. “My mom was a little paranoid about the paparazzi,” she explained.
“No—don’t be sorry,” Jon said, looking up at her and rubbing his jaw. “My aching pride and swollen face aside, it’s kinda hot to have a girlfriend who kicks butt.”
“Am I?” she asked, extending her arm to help him up.
Jon brushed himself off. “Hot? Two words—last one’s ‘yes.’”
Marisol laughed. “No, you ginormous dork. Your girlfriend.”
“Uh,” he faltered. “I actually thought we’d already established that, considering the, um, quality time we’ve been spending together. Sorry—I assumed…”
“Well, you never actually asked me,” she pointe
d out, putting her hands on her hips.
“Oh. Easy enough,” Jon countered. “Will you be my girlfriend? Don’t leave me hanging—please say yes.” He flashed his big, brown, pleading-puppy eyes.
Marisol grinned. “Two words—last one’s ‘yes.’”
David was surprised to learn that aerial combat might come into play. He had been rather pleased with himself when he learned to fly on his first official day as Solas Beir, but he had assumed that the purpose of that power was simply transportation. Fighting while in flight seemed a bit more complicated. Erela, the tall, enigmatic councilwoman with billowing, white wings, volunteered to train him.
David had thought of Cael as stoic, but working with Erela brought new meaning to the concept. Cael would never be mistaken for a joker, and he was not known for his winning smile (although David was seeing a few more smiles these days, thanks to the time Cael was spending with Eulalia). Nevertheless, Cael was capable of emotion—he had just been trained to keep it in check. David wasn’t so sure about Erela. She was intelligent, but seemed to have a strong moral compass that lacked in compassion. She noted when he did well in his exercises, but there was an emotional flatness to her feedback—you couldn’t exactly call it praise. It was simply information.
Her response to his failings was more difficult to discern. It was almost like there was a dark undercurrent there, but whatever it was, it was secured under lock and key. Her grey eyes were those of a cold, calculating killer—not because she was cruel, but because she was a predator.
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
Abby 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.”
The Rabbit And The Raven Page 6