Sign of the Throne: Book One in the Solas Beir Trilogy (15 page)

“Duly noted,” Abby assured her.

“Good. Do you have a coin with you?”

Abby searched her pockets. “Um—all I have is a penny.”

“Is it shiny?”

Abby nodded. “Yes.”

“Excellent—she will like that,” Eulalia smiled. “Drop it into the pool. When she hears it hit the bottom, she will swim up the plumbing that connects the reflecting pool with this one.”

Abby did as she was told and waited. She watched the coin splash as it hit the water, drifting down to rest on the tile bottom of the pool. Then she heard the metallic rattle of the grate at the end of the pool and a noisy splash as something broke the surface of the water. Abby could see something orange streaking through the water toward them, and suddenly, there she was, standing beside Eulalia, shaking off a few drops of water and proudly holding up the penny.

“Got it!” the nixie exclaimed. “Shiny!” She happily admired her find.

Abby’s first impression of the water sprite was that she was a Kewpie doll come to life—she had a sweet baby face with round, rosy cheeks, bright amber eyes, full lips, and the body of a chubby cherub, including a little potbelly stomach sticking out. She stood about a foot high, bigger than she was as a fish. Her skin had an orange tinge, and her cropped hair, in varying shades of orange and yellow, resembled a dandelion fluff set aflame. She wore a simple, one-shouldered shift of a silky texture that made Abby think of water lilies. Around her neck was a collection of other treasures she had found—several lost keys, a metal teaspoon, and a ring with an oversized plastic jewel, most likely acquired from a gumball machine and lost by some curious child peeking through the estate’s gate. Her large golden eyes studied the penny, looking for a way to string it with the rest of her collection. She shrugged, apparently giving up, and placed it in some unseen pocket in her short, white dress.

Eulalia made the introductions. “Abby, this is my friend Nysa. Nysa, this is Abby, the c’aislingaer we have been waiting for.”

“I’m very pleased to meet you,” Abby said formally, unsure of the most appropriate way to greet a water sprite.

Nysa beamed. “Nice to meet you. Thanks for the shiny.” Her eyes grew unbelievably wider as she noticed Abby’s necklace. “Ooooh, pretty,” she cooed.

Abby touched the silver seashell. “The Sign of the Throne,” she explained. “It
is
beautiful, isn’t it?”

“Yes,” the nixie agreed. She pointed to the silver cross that rested against Abby’s skin beside the seashell. “That one, too.”

“My cross pendant? I like it, too—it’s always brought me comfort.”

Nysa smiled and nodded.

Abby chuckled—she understood how the nixie could be mistaken for a child. There was a sweet innocence about her, an aura of trust and goodwill. She looked from Eulalia to Nysa, noting the way they looked at each other with adoration, suddenly gaining insight. In spite of Eulalia’s admonition to Abby regarding the nixie’s age, the queen seemed to have adopted the water sprite as a surrogate child for the one she’d lost.

“Would you…would you like to have my cross pendant?” Abby offered. “It’s silver,” she added, looking to Eulalia, concerned that the nixie might find the precious metal offensive. Eulalia nodded her approval.

Nysa grinned with joy and clapped her hands, in no way containing her excitement. Abby unclasped the chain around her neck and removed the pendant, leaving the seashell centered on the chain. She presented the silver cross to the nixie, who eagerly added it to her collection, not at all concerned about the fact that it was silver. Maybe the thing with silver was like an allergy, and there were different degrees of sensitivity to it. Maybe the Shadows were more allergic than creatures of Light, who seemed to be able to touch it without difficulty. Abby thought about how Eulalia’s husband had been killed. Those in the Light only seemed to have a problem if silver entered the bloodstream, she concluded.

“The hour grows late,” Eulalia noted, nodding toward the windows.

The light had changed, and Abby realized that it was almost sunset. She had spent all afternoon here and had forgotten about her original mission of taking a walk on the beach. So much for clearing her head—her mind was buzzing with an overwhelming load of new things to think about, new questions to ask. But at least she had some answers now.

“I must finish telling you about the Sign before the light is gone,” continued Eulalia. “Those who dwell in Darkness are always stronger at night.”

Abby grimaced.

“Do not fear. For now, the Sign, even half of it, is strong enough to keep you safe, and I will equip you with an escort of ravens for your walk home, just for your peace of mind.”

“Okay,” Abby responded, trying to sound brave, but unable to put the shadow boy out of her mind. Personally, she wasn’t sure her raven bodyguards would cut it, but she wasn’t about to share that thought out loud.

“The last piece of the story is about how we were able to get the other half of the sign to my son. It is really Fergal’s tale.”

“Mine too,” chimed Nysa, settling in comfortably at Abby’s feet.

“Yours too.” Eulalia smiled at the nixie, and then grew serious. “The ravens had known for some time where David was living. Secretly they watched over him, bringing me news. Once Fergal brought the Sign through the portal, we had to devise a way for him to get it to David undetected. We almost succeeded.

“I separated the pieces—we could not risk both halves falling into the wrong hands. With help from the ravens, Fergal would fly over the Corbin house, landing outside David’s second story window, which was open just enough for Fergal to squeeze through. Then, he could silently slip over to David and present him with the sigil of the Solas Beir.

“It had been many years since I lost my son, but I was confident that once he saw the Sign, his memory would be restored and he would come to me. With the element of stealth on our side, we hoped to avoid attention from the continual stream of stray cats that patrolled the Corbin property, Kruorumbrae preventing us from making contact with David—keeping him blind to the magic around him. It was a good plan, but we underestimated the Shadows and their power over him.

“One raven lifted Fergal into the sky, holding him under the arms. A second carried the sign, since it was too heavy for Fergal to carry such a distance. Instead, Fergal carried a silver sewing needle, as a precaution in case he should be discovered. Once on the roof, the pair of ravens kept watch while the tiny faery slipped in through the window.

“At first, things went smoothly. Fergal climbed down the curtain to the bedroom floor without being discovered. But then, the shadow cats sensed something, and they raised the alarm.

“A legion of Kruorumbrae began crawling up the walls of the house toward the ravens, and dozens entered the house, racing up the stairs and down the hall toward David’s room. Their combined darkness gained strength and gathered silently behind Fergal as they blended into one giant feline. The creature was as large as a panther and as dark and empty as a black hole, sucking the light from the room. Evil eyes glowed a dull red in the creature’s skull, and a set of needle-sharp teeth flashed white in contrast to the darkness of its hide.

“With an unearthly scream, it slammed into the window, shutting it with a loud crash, cutting off Fergal’s escape, even as he ascended the sheets to the foot of the bed. The ravens frantically beat against the window, trying to find a way inside to protect David and Fergal. Soon, they were too busy to help anyone—t
he shadow cats reached the rooftop and launched an attack, pouncing from every angle. The ravens took flight, circling just out of reach, helpless. They could only watch Fergal’s plight from a distance.

“Undeterred by the menacing growl of the creature stalking him, Fergal bravely ran the length of David’s limp, sleeping body to his head and slipped the sigil under David’s pillow before the monster could see it. Then he turned to face the shadow beast, brandishing the sewing needle like a sword. As the creature leapt onto the bed, Fergal jumped to the floor and slipped out of reach under the bed, running as fast as his little legs could carry him toward the door. The beast followed, circling the bed, trying to reach the door first to cut off Fergal’s escape.

“David started in his sleep, on the edge of waking. He moaned and opened his eyes, and then sat bolt upright in bed, staring at the shadow beast crouched low on the floor near the door, ready to pounce. A scream caught in his throat as the monster turned its glowing, blood-red eyes on him.

“Fergal came to a dead stop—he had to get the beast to follow him. He thrust the needle into the creature’s paw
, and it howled in agony, instantly fragmenting into many smaller felines. This cost Fergal valuable time, but the shadow cats were reminded that he was their original target; they forgot about David and the Sign of the Throne.

“Fergal resumed his flight, leaping from the top step to the banister, zipping to the bottom of the stairs. The Kruorumbrae were close on his heels—he could feel hot breath on his back, stinking like sulfur and sour meat.

“Fergal sped toward the back door, sliding through the tiny crack between the door and the floor. The shadow cats burst through the door as if nothing were there, losing density in the mere second they passed through the wood, and becoming menacingly solid on the other side. On the rooftop, the shadow cats lost interest in the ravens and poured like toxic, black oil down the sides of the house, silky and evil. Fergal was surrounded. The shadows savored the moment, ready to strike, confident that their numbers would yield victory.

“As the Kruorumbrae closed in, the ravens dived from the roof in a dead drop. Rocketing down, the first raven, Brarn, dispersed the gang in an explosion of hissing and fur. His mate, Eithne, followed close behind and scooped up Fergal. Then, a shadow cat leapt up and collided with her, knocking her out of the sky. She lost her grasp on Fergal and dropped him. Fergal did not fall far, but he lost the needle as he tumbled down.

“The cats overpowered Eithne, sucking the energy from her body. Weaponless, Fergal stood frozen in horror as he saw the Light leave the raven’s eyes. There was a terrible void in the moment the bird’s spirit left and her body went still.

“The feeding frenzy provided a long enough distraction for Brarn to circle back and rescue Fergal from an identical fate. Unfortunately, Fergal did not escape unscathed. As the raven bore him upward, one of the shadow cats reared up and slashed at him, shredding his back to ribbons. By the time Brarn landed beside the reflecting pool, Fergal’s condition was serious, his breathing shallow and labored because of the pain. If not for Nysa, he would have surely succumbed to his injuries.”

“I helped Ferggie,” Nysa explained in a serious tone.

“Yes, you did,” continued Eulalia, nodding approvingly at the nixie. “Nysa carried Fergal in her arms and dove into the pool. She was small enough to slip through the tiny opening in the portal. Once through, she was able to get the attention of a guard for assistance in taking Fergal to the pool of healing. He made a full recovery, and he and Nysa gave a report to Cael and the council.

“Nysa then returned to me, and Fergal resumed his post delivering messages between worlds. We could not recover the fallen raven, and her mate mourned for many months, flying over the place where the Shadows took her. Even now, he searches for her, though she was lost long ago.”

“Brarn is still alive? I didn’t know ravens lived that long,” Abby mused.

“Yes. He is old, but he is still with us. He is the raven you rescued today.”

Abby pictured the raven she had held in her arms, who led her through the labyrinth. She had not realized that ravens mated for life, or that they were capable of such empathy—she could not imagine his grief. “Poor Brarn—how terrible for him. So then, what happened to David? Does he remember anything?”

“Unfortunately, no. Although he found the Sign of the Throne the next morning and instinctively kept it hidden and safe, his mind was too clouded to recognize it for what it was or to remember anything about our world. In a way, this has helped protect the sign. Because David did not recognize the sign as an object of power, the Kruorumbrae did not realize the significance of Fergal’s delivery. They assumed that the faery’s mission was to talk with David, and they were confident that he failed. They have been so successful at keeping David in a state of oblivion these many years that they have become arrogant and complacent. It is my hope that this will be their undoing.”

“And that’s where I come in, isn’t it?” Abby reasoned, gaining sudden insight into her role. “I’m just a regular, ordinary girl. They don’t see me as a threat at all.”

Eulalia smiled. “You are anything but ordinary, but yes. That is the plan. Their magic cannot bar you from accessing David, and yet, with luck, they will entirely underestimate you.”

Abby nodded, appreciating for the first time her position as a perpetual wallflower.

“A note of caution—you must be very, very careful whom you trust. The Darkness takes many forms—not everyone who appears to be a friend will be. Remember, the Blood Shadows have the ability to steal a human body and appear as that person. And as time grows short, they will get stronger and take more extreme measures.”

Abby felt a prickle as the hair on the back of her neck stood up. She nodded in understanding, contemplating the implications. “Got it.”