Pogue’s nostrils flared, side-eying me.
“Actually that’s not a bad idea.” Lochlainn pointedly turned to Pogue. “You’re a Shadowsayer. She’s a Soulsayer. They’re basically in the same family! You could help her—which in turn, helps us figure out who’s behind all this.”
Shadowsayer.
I’d heard of it, but vaguely—someone who could speak to shadows.
When I was a teen, David and Wyatt didn’t have the easiest time teaching me about the Ferie Realm. I mostly ignored the boring histories, only wanting to know the fun stuff like:Are there Unicorns? Leprechauns? Santa’s elves? Why are the Cherubs obsessed with chocolate, and where do they get it from?
Luckily, better listening ears came with age.
As it was explained, most people didn’t have gifts or abilities beyond their natural physical traits. Those who did were rare. The most powerful abilities were typically seen in those with royal blood, though non-royals could still possess lesser—yet still potentially lethal—gifts.
No one understood how the abilities came to be, but it was believed they were granted from the lands themselves.
Loveland’s power stemmed from love, emotion, and healing of what was broken.Poetic, I know.As a kid, anytime David told the story, I put a finger in my mouth, gagging.
Hallow Land drew from darkness—of night, of death, of souls.
Eostre Land’s came from life, fertility, and growth.
Luckland’s from fortuity and nature.
And Vinterland’s from light, magnanimity, and resilience.
In Hallow Land, there were lower gifts and higher gifts.
Lower abilities included the Soothsayers, seers with various forms of sight, such as glimpsing object memories for a short time frame. The Shadowsayers, Soulsayers, and Beastsayers—those who could speak to shadows, souls, and beasts, coaxing them to cooperate. And those who practiced the Craft, which were Ferie’s version of witches and warlocks.
Higher gifts were rare. Some said to be so powerful and uncommon, they existed only in legend. These included the Soothseers, insanely powerful oracles who could see through time and space, believed to have died out. And the Wielders—Soul Wielders, Shadow Wielders, and Beast Wielders—who could command absolute control.
The carriage started to slow, disheveling my thoughts.
I couldn’t help staring at Pogue. I’d never met a being from Hallow Land—or anyone with a similar gift to mine. It made me feel homesick in some weird way.
Any time I pictured Hallow Land as a kid, I imagined some extraordinary Halloween world made of eternal autumn, spooky cemeteries, eccentric costumes, and the ultimate trick-or-treat neighborhoods.
Obviously that bubble quickly popped once I learned about its history and barbaric line of rulers. The humans definitely got the cutesy part wrong. But maybe some of the horror films got parts of it right.
Of course, the first person I met from my homeland would be a complete jerk.Just my luck.
But I shouldn’t have been surprised. If anything, I was annoyed with myself that I didn’t see it sooner. Looking at him now, it was almost obvious in the way he dressed, the way he carried himself.
Lucklanders were all about fineries and glitzy style. Although tough, they at least had a sense of humor.
Pogue looked like a walking threat. His style was dark and deliberate, obviously meant to unsettle. Even the gold embellished suspenders felt like a lazy attempt to blend in.
His attitude alone should have been a red flag that he wasn’t from around here, along with the lack of brogue in his voice.
And yet, there was something about him. His energy pulled me in somehow.
Maybe it was a Hallow Land thing.
I grilled Lochlainn.
“Absolutely not. Like I said—hard pass.”
Don’t push it, my eyes said.
