Dead Moon Awakens: A tale of Cherokee myth and Celtic magic (Mystic Gates) Read Free

highness.”
    “For your information, my name does mean ‘great
queen’ in Gaelic.” Morrigan wrinkled her nose. “But, someone like you wouldn’t
know that, would you.”
    “More like prissy queen.”
    Aishling positioned herself next to him, blocking
his view. “Morrigan, this is Keri. Donny. Betty. Lucy. John. Mitch. Bill. And
Michelle.” With her left hand, she had directed Morrigan’s attention to each
one as she said their names. Skipping over Lance, she looked at Kelile. “Of
course, you already know who the rude, smart-mouth is.”
    “Oho! You got some spunk in your trunk, girl.”
Kelile motioned for her to sit next to him.
    Morrigan plopped next to Lance, leaving her no
choice. She sank into the chair.
    As the others began serving themselves, Kelile
whispered, “You know I’m right about her.”
    “No, I don’t.”
    “She’s trouble.”
    “If you feel that way, then stay away from her.”
    “I like trouble.”
    “Oh?”
    “I’m just messin’ with ya, girl.” He picked up a
serving bowl of mashed potatoes and lopped a spoonful on his plate. When he
passed the bowl to her, he winked.
    She caught Lance staring at her when she passed
the bowl to Morrigan. Another wave of déjà vu stunned her. She almost dropped
the bowl. What was going on? First Morrigan, then Kelile, and now Lance.
    While they ate dinner, Kelile told her he wasn’t
an orphan, but had been sent to Herald Home at the request of his stepfather.
    “Can he do that?” she asked.
    “He did. He thinks this place is gonna straighten
me out. Huh. The only thing that will straighten me out is gettin’ Mom and the
twins away from his sorry ass. This place is a joke. I’ll be gettin’ myself
outta here soon, you watch.” He winked again.
     
    After dinner and kitchen duty, Aishling and
Morrigan sat on their beds, talking.
    “You should have seen the look on that black guy’s
face when you called him ‘rude smart-mouth.’ How funny. I thought he would slap
you or something. I can’t believe he actually talked to you the whole time.”
Morrigan leaned against her headboard and sighed. “Lance is so cute. He’ll be
fourteen in June. He seems older. I guess because he’s quiet and serious, like
you. Doesn’t he have dreamy brown eyes? And his—”
    Aishling hadn’t noticed his eyes before tonight.
She hadn’t paid attention to him when he first arrived a couple of days ago.
Nor had she paid attention to Kelile when he came last week.
    “Hello, Earth to Aishling. Did you hear anything I
said?”
    She flinched. “I’m sorry.”
    “I swear. You’re like a wild horse. You’re so
skittish. Are you having a vision right now? You’ve got such a faraway look in
your eyes.”
    “No. Just thinking.”
    “Aishling. That’s a Gaelic name.”
    “How did you know that?”
    “Tell me what your name means.”
    “It means dream or dreamer .” She
sighed, and her thoughts wandered again.
    “What’s the matter?”
    “I just remembered something, that’s all.”
    “Tell me.”
    Aishling leaned over the edge of the bed and
stared at her sneakers. “Ma used to call me her raven dreamer.”
    “Raven?” Morrigan sat up, her eyebrows arched.
    “My middle name is Bran which means—”
    “ Raven ,” they both said.
    “But Bran is a boy’s name.” Morrigan gawked. “Why
would your mother pick that?”
    “She used part of my grandmother’s first name, Branwen.”
    “So did mine. My grandmother’s first name was
Shae. But, your mother didn’t use the whole name. Why?”
    Aishling shook her head, unable to answer.
    “So, do you have the gift of prophetic dreaming ?”
    “Yes—I mean I used to. How did you know?”
    Morrigan leaned against her headboard again. “Why
are you here?”
    The question hit Aishling with the force of a
baseball bat. She gasped for air and massaged her arms. “I was brought here
after the fire, when Ma vanished.”
    “She vanished? Oh, I thought …”
    Trying to ease the painful clawing