Free The Rabbit and the Raven: Book Two in the Solas Beir Trilogy by Melissa Eskue Ousley Page A
Authors: Melissa Eskue Ousley
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
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