Free Sign of the Throne: Book One in the Solas Beir Trilogy by Melissa Eskue Ousley Page B

alone. One story says that’s the way to capture a witch. She becomes so focused on counting, that she’ll do it all night, and you can capture her at first morning’s light. Of course, the same story says that the reason people have bed hair is that the old hag rides on your head all night long like a hobby horse.”
    Cassandra snorted, then laughed. “Not to make light of the situation, but yes, let’s try all those things, just to be safe, and see what happens. And we’ll all make a pact, among the three of us: anything weird that happens—no matter how unlikely or odd—we talk about it together. Consider it an experiment. We need as much data as possible. And Riordan, seriously, I know you love your aunt, but if I encounter that thing, I’m taking the kids to a hotel. I don’t want to leave our home, but I’m not staying here if I can’t protect my kids. Agreed?”
    “ Our kids,” Riordan corrected. “And yes, agreed.”
    “Deal,” Abby said.

 
     
     
     
     
     
     

    FAERY GODMOTHERS
     
     
    E xhausted from the terror of the previous evening, Abby slept deeply. Given that the shadow creature’s evil smile was burned into her memory, she had expected to have nightmares. To her relief, her dreams were peaceful.
    She found herself walking toward a towering ivory edifice, surrounded by the foliage of a large, primeval forest. The castle reminded her of exotic architecture she’d seen in books—a fortress with a distinctly Moroccan feel.
    A woman was approaching her, crossing a bridge leading from the castle’s gates. The woman was beautiful. In a sweeping white gown, she walked with such noble grace that she appeared to float toward Abby. Her raven-colored tresses fell to her waist in waves, and her skin was pale, almost the color of cream. Her eyes burned a brilliant blue, and Abby felt intimidated in her presence. To her surprise, the woman smiled at Abby, and her eyes were kind, with a hint of amusement, as though Abby were her conspirator in a private joke. As she passed by, the scene changed.
    Now Abby was on a stage in front of an audience of people she didn’t know. She shielded her eyes from the spotlight shining on her. She heard a voice: “David Corbin is looking at you, and you’re not even going to acknowledge him?” At this, she turned to her left, and near the stage, she saw him. This time , he wasn’t indifferent. He looked…intrigued. Yes, that was definitely a small, curious smile on his lips. Abby smiled back.
    She opened her eyes and looked around her bedroom. The morning light filtered through sheer curtains and eased any fears from the night before. For the first time, she appreciated the sheer normality of her life: no bogeymen in her closet, no nightmares creeping under her bed.
    She remembered something Cassandra had said as she was driving Abby home.
    “Does it surprise you?” she asked. “Does it surprise you that we’d stay in the house after all you told us?”
    Yes, Abby had admitted. If she had been Cassandra and thought her family was in danger, she would have left that very night. But then, Cassandra did not see what Abby saw.
    “It’s not that I’m not tempted to leave,” Cassandra said, “but we did make a promise to care for Moira. Even if we left, she would never leave, and if an old woman is okay with living in that house, I suppose we can tough it out. But it’s not just that. I like it there, and I want to stay. And, it’s probably a combination of hubris and morbid curiosity, but if something weird is going on, I want to know. Our family has a long history of encounters with the bizarre—you should have heard the ghost stories told by Riordan’s relatives when we were in Scotland. I know this sounds silly, and I don’t know how to explain it, but I think we’ll be okay. I just don’t think there is anything to worry about,” she insisted.
    Abby wasn’t so sure, but she’d wait it out. The experience had bonded her with the Buchans, and