The Bardic Academy (A Bard Without a Star, Book 3) Read Online Free

said, turning back into a stallion. “But
perhaps you’ll get the better of me.”
    “The only
one I know of who did that was Brian Boru,” Fidgen said. “And I’m sure that I
will not best you the way he did. He bridled you with three hairs from your
own tail, didn’t he?”
    “That he
did, and a wild ride we had,” the Pooka said. “He won from me the promise not
to kill anyone outright.”
    “That’s not
very comforting,” Fidgen said.
    “Maybe, but
it has made the game much more interesting for me.”
    “I’m sure,”
Fidgen said. “So what do you want from me?”
    “I thought
I might show you a wonder,” the Pooka said.
    “And why
would you do that?”
    “Because
you intrigue me. Isn’t that enough?”
    Fidgen
shook his head. “I don’t think so. Give me a hair of your tail, and I will
consider it.”
    The Pooka
snorted. “One won’t do you any good, you know.”
    “No, but it
is a third of the way to something, and more than that, it is an act of good
faith on your part.”
    “Fair
enough.” The Pooka stretched his neck back and very carefully took one strand
of his tail in his teeth. With a great whipping motion, he pulled it free, and
dropped it in Fidgen’s lap. “There you go,” he said. “Now will you come with
me?”
    “How far do
we need to go?”
    “Can you shape
shift?”
    “Yes,”
Fidgen said after a moment’s hesitation.
    “Then
transform into a horse, and follow me!”
    Fidgen
tried to become a black stallion much like the Pooka, but ended up with a more
silvery coat instead. The Pooka had already raced ahead, and Fidgen leapt into
a gallop, trying to catch him.
    The Pooka
led him across the plains, and Fidgen was grateful for a full moon. As it was,
the Pooka was so dark that Fidgen almost lost sight of him several times, only
finding him again when he whinnied or turned his head so that Fidgen could see
his shining yellow eyes.
    The Pooka
led him to some rocky hills, where his hooves struck sparks with every
footfall. Fidgen expected him to slow, but he kept his breakneck speed,
forcing Fidgen to transform into a raven to keep up. The Pooka just laughed at
his frustrated cry.
    They
finally stopped in a bowl shaped valley with a low mound in the center. Fidgen
shifted back to human form and sank to his knees, breathing hard. The Pooka
nudged him and said, “You’re going to want to watch that mound.”
    As he
caught his breath, Fidgen could feel the power in the valley. “Where are we?”
he said.
    “Just
watch,” the Pooka said.
    Fidgen
sighed and stared at the mound. The moonlight and the shadows made it hard to
see clearly. He rubbed his eyes, trying to make them focus, and looked up
again just in time to see the mound being split by a line of light.
    The side of
the mound opened like a door, and a column came out, marching in stately
procession in their direction. First came several ranks of warriors dressed in
vivid colors, holding weapons that shone in the moonlight. Behind them, riders
on silvery steeds talked and chatted like they were out on a summer stroll, not
a midnight ride. Their robes flowed in gossamer waves off their shoulders,
radiating light from within. Behind the riders, musicians walked and played
various instruments, some of which Fidgen had never seen. The music, wild and
rollicking, filled the valley.
    The Pooka’s
lips tickled his ear. “Stay very still, or else they will notice you.”
    Fidgen
nodded, not taking his eyes off the riders. Two in particular caught his eye,
a man and a woman who rode side by side, each with a simple crown on their
head. They talked easily with those around them, but the look they gave each
other shut out all the worlds. “Who are they?” Fidgen asked.
    “This is
the Fairie Procession,” the Pooka said. “That is King Oengus and Queen
Fionnuala, who are your distant relatives. Would you like to meet them?”
    “What do
you mean?” Fidgen said. In reply he felt a quick shove in the middle of his
back,