Page 219 of Sigils & Spells

“See. Now they’re out here too.” Aoibhe gestured at the nuisance.

It was a small, gray moth. Nothing unusual in and of itself. “Huh. I wonder why there are so many.” All around them tiny moths flitted about. Not a large mass of them, but enough that other students were pointing at them and snapping pictures with their phones. “Weird.”

The moths lessened up as they walked to the cafeteria, where none seemed to be visible at all. It really did appear as though they had chosen to linger around that building alone. A sign of a haunting? “Do you think moths are an omen?” she asked as they ambled inside. Daniel waved at them from their preferred table near the windows. He hadn’t gotten his food yet.

“I mean, anything can be an omen if you’re superstitious enough.”

“What are you talking about?” Daniel asked as he stood and pulled out chairs for both ladies. Such a gentleman.

Ravyn took her seat and said, “There’s a bunch of moths around our building. I wondered if it was an omen. Maybe Dean Caelan would know.”

“I mean,” Daniel said as he rubbed his chin in mock speculation. “There is Mothman. I’m surprised we haven’t talked about him in class yet—maybe when we get to more modern stuff we will.” He shook himself, realizing he was getting off topic. “I was thinking about doing my report on him, but since a figure out of local lore back home is probably based off an Irish fairy who was also considered a death omen, I decided that would be more interesting.”

“Oh! Which one?” Aoibhe leaned forward in her chair, interest brightening her face. She always loved talking about Irish legends with them. “That’s right, you live in Sleepy Hollow. You must be talking about the Dullahan.”

Ravyn looked back and forth between them. “Mothman, I’ve heard of.” Who hadn’t heard of the infamous figure so many people saw before a tragic bridge collapse in Point Pleasant, West Virginia several decades ago? They even had movies about it. “What is a…Dullahan?”

Daniel flashed her a grin. “The Headless Horseman.”

She blinked at him. “The Headless Horseman from ‘The Legend of Sleepy Hollow’ is a fairy?” It had always been one of her favorite short stories. She watched the cartoon version every October.

Aoibhe, completely in her element, nodded. “An Unseelie, supposedly. We’ll probably learn more about those next week in class since we’re starting the chapter on Celtic folklore. But, the watered down version involves theTuatha Dé Danann,whichis a race of Fae that are divided into two classes: the light court and the dark court. Seelie, being light, and Unseelie, being dark.”

A chair scrapped back at the end of their six-top table and they looked up. Gabe took a seat at the end of the table, setting a tray down with a bacon cheeseburger and fries on it. He took a sip of whatever beverage he had in his paper cup and set that down too. “Do go on. If we’re having a study session, I’m crashing it.”

Everyone stared at him. Ravyn didn’t know what to say, and her stomach growled in response to his food, reminding her why they had come here to begin with. A glance at Aoibhe, however, showed her light up even more at the addition to their group.

“The Dullahan is a very mysterious fae,” the girl said. “Most believe he is Unseelie, others believe he is a cursed human who used to make sacrifices to an even older deity. One that predates all text and was eventually banished from our world entirely.”

Daniel opened up the Notes app on his phone, typing furiously. “I wasn’t prepared. I’ll have to cite you as a whole source on this paper.”

“So, who is this banished Irish deity?” Gabe asked.

Ravyn glanced from him to Aoibhe and back again. Had they been talking and becoming friends? How did she not see this coming?

Duh, you’ve been so focused on Daniel and school.

“Crom Dubh.”

Sounded ominous.

“Dubhmeans black, right?” Daniel said. “What doesCrommean?”

She grinned. “We covered that in my Gaelic class.Crommeans bent or crooked.”

“Crooked Black? They definitely painted that guy as a bucket of laughs,” Gabe added. “Or they were racist.”

“There’s not a lot written about Crom Dubh to give much indication of how he looked, but I don’t think it is a racial thing. He has an older name; Dubh was a nickname attributed to him later. I cannot recall what the original name was though. My family has always called him Crom Dubh when telling stories of Ireland.”

After the rest of them went to buy their food and came back, the topic didn’t seem to change. “So, Daniel, if you’re writing about the Headless Horseman, what are the rest of you writing about?” she asked them.

Aoibhe seemed a bit awkward and didn’t quite meet her gaze. “Since I’m Irish, it seemed obvious to do an Irish death omen. So, I picked the Banshee. I mean, naturally.” She laughed. “My Gaelic professor called that being,Bean Sidhe.” She then spelled it out.

“That will probably be way easier to research than mine,” Daniel mumbled. “What are you writing about, Ravyn?” He turned to her.

“I, uh…am not sure.” Did she dare tell them she was writing about what she was? Not like they would know—or believe her.

“We have to meet with the dean soon to get our topic approved,” Aoibhe reminded them. “Nothing at the top of your list?”

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