To Ride A Púca by Heather McCorkle Read Free Book Online Page A

yer power late or because ye don’t know how to use it. It sounds like yer parents didn’t want ye to know how. But ye’re a warrior druid for sure. I can feel it,” he said.
    The fervent tone of his voice made her look over at him. Conviction shone in his eyes and her heart lifted. Maybe she wasn’t useless as a druid after all.
    “Ye really think so?”
    “I know it.”
    Neala’s insecurities fled in a rush of excitement. “Teach me,” she said. With the Danes knocking on their back door this was exactly what she needed. There was a chance she could use her power to protect her family and her land. She wasn’t going to pass that up.
    Worry darkened Bren’s eyes. “Won’t yer parents be mad?” he asked.
    “No, because we won’t tell them. We can meet and train in secret,” she said. The thrill that idea sent through her was more than worth her parents’ wrath.
    Gaze returning to the forest before them, Bren chewed on his bottom lip. She had to convince him. For a moment she again considered telling him about the Danes. But no matter how angry she was with her da, she didn’t want to disobey him outright on that, not yet at least.
    “Come on, it’s obvious I’m not safe,” she pressed.
    He let out a long sigh and gave her a defeated look that barely covered his excitement.
    “When can ye sneak away?”
     

 
    5
     
    The next day Neala finished her chores in a flash, leaving her entire afternoon free. The dishes from lunch were still drying when she grabbed a muffin from the basket on the kitchen table and started for the door. The tedium of daily activities was driving her crazy now that she knew there was a fight brewing.
    “Where are ye off to?” her ma asked from her seat by the fire where she was crocheting.
    How her ma could stand such a task right now was beyond her. But then, her people were used to living with the threat of invasion and had conditioned themselves to believe it wouldn’t reach them. A part of Neala wanted to tear the yarn from her ma’s hands and shake some sense into her. The way she saw it, fear wasn’t always a bad thing, not when it was warranted.
    Hand on the doorknob; Neala hesitated as she struggled to pick the least suspicious sounding excuse she could come up with.
    “To check on the flock in the high pasture. Unless there’s anythin’ else ye need me to do. Ye said it was safe after all,” she said.
    Her ma’s rigid posture relaxed and she gave Neala a small smile. “No, go ahead. Have a nice ride. But do be careful,” she said.
    What, did she think Neala had been about to dash off to battle? Surely her ma didn’t think she was that daft.
    “I will,” Neala called back as she slipped out the door and ran for the barn.
    A day ago she would have felt horrible for lying to her ma but now that she knew her parents had lied to her, it didn’t matter. If they could do it so easily so could she. Besides, her lie wasn’t nearly as hurtful as theirs. It wasn’t like she was lying to them about what they were capable of.
    Dubh nickered at her as she came in the barn. Grabbing his bridle, she stepped into his stall and found he wasn’t alone. Two fairies floated in the air near his mane, weaving his black hair into delicate braids. He stood very still, head drooped as if he didn’t want to mess them up. Both of the fairies were female and wore a gossamer type of fabric that covered less than their long blond hair did. One had wings the color of the bluebell flowers that grew in the pasture. The other’s wings reminded Neala of the purple wisteria that clung to the roof of Bren’s house.
    “Ah, thank ye ladies for doing such a fine job of groomin’ him.”
    The blue winged fairy dropped the locks of Dubh’s mane and turned to Neala. She smiled and floated over to her. Those impossibly tiny hands picked up Neala’s long brown hair and started to weave it expertly.
    “Not today Flora. I have somewhere to go,” Neala said.
    The fairy’s shoulders sagged