Date Published: February 2, 2021
Publisher: Magic Cat Books
An ancient Irish goddess appears to thirteen-year-old Colin Caulfield and delivers a fateful warning. Later that night, his sister is almost kidnapped by goblins. His world is rocked even further when his mother and a family friend reveal that he is the reincarnation of Ireland’s greatest hero, CuChulainn, and destined to help the Irish gods return to their seat of power.
First, he needs to be properly trained, and there is no one better for that job than Scathach, the woman who trained the original CuChulainn. He arrives on her island, Alba, in the Otherworld, and joins her host of trainees. There, he meets Breccan and Alaynna, who become two of his best friends. He also meets Niall, who is somewhat hostile to him at first, but then agrees to help train him.
Colin faces a number of threats and challenges while on Alba, some of which are tied to a dark force that wants to stop him from fulfilling his destiny. Unfortunately, Colin’s greatest enemy just might be himself as a deep-seated personal issue triggers a warp-spasm, a type of berserker rage that the original CuChulainn suffered from as well. With the help of his friends, Colin must learn to control the warp-spasms if he is to become the hero both Earth and the Otherworld need him to be.
He had better hurry though, because the dark force that wants to stop Colin, that found him on Earth and tried to use his sister to get to him, discover he is on Alba, and who knows how far they are willing to go to stop Colin this time.
“It is time, Colin Caulfield,” a familiar voice said.
Ma’s office went all hazy around the edges, like the library did for me earlier that day. It grew too, became massive. And yep, there they were, the Morrigan, all three of them, a triple goddess, representing all stages of womanhood at once. Maiden. Mother. Crone. It was the Maiden who’d spoken first.
“Follow us, Colin Caulfield,” said the Mother.
“We shall lead the way,” said the Crone.
Ma and Sean both looked at me then in the direction I was staring then back again.
“You can’t see them?” I asked.
“See who?” asked Ma.
“They’re here?” Sean sounded in awe. “You can see them?”
“They were in the library. That’s why I rushed out like I did.”
Sean smiled. “This is a good sign. The Morrigan are the patrons of heroes. They appeared before the original CuChulainn.”
“Yeah, and he was too stupid to take their help,” I reminded him.
Sean rested his hand on my shoulder. “Hopefully, you won’t repeat his mistake.”
I answered with a tight smile. The Morrigan stood there, waiting for me. At least they were allowing me time to say goodbye to Ma and Jenny.
“You come back to me,” said Ma, trying really hard not to cry. “No matter what.”
I promised I would. Jenny gave me a thumbs-up.
“You’ve got this,” she said.
What did she mean? Got what? Little weirdo. I grinned and tousled her hair.
The Morrigan turned in unison and started walking. I followed. A mist rose out of nowhere. It kept getting thicker and thicker.
I stopped short when water brushed against my shoes. I squinted through the mist. All I could see was water, in every direction. The Morrigan were still walking ahead of me. I could buy that they could walk on water. But could I? Only one way to find out.
I took one step then another and chuckled in disbelief. I was walking on water. So weird, the way it shimmied beneath my feet. I sent out ripples with each step I made. I kept walking. The mist grew thick again, surrounding me. The Morrigan were nowhere in sight.
“Hello?” I called out. “Anyone out there?”
I took a couple more steps before finally stopping on what felt like dry, solid ground. That was when the mist started to clear. I was standing in a stone courtyard. There were cottages and larger buildings all around. The whole place was surrounded by huge stone walls.
Ma’s office, the Fenian, the world I knew — was gone.
Was this Scathach’s Island? Alba?
A man stood there like he’d been waiting for me. He wore a cloak with the hood pulled completely over his head. He tossed something to me. It clanged and clattered as it slid across the stones then landed near my feet. It was an ancient Irish war sword, one-handed with a short thick blade. I’d seen pictures of them in books. This one looked almost brand-new.
“Pick it up,” the man in the hood growled.
About The Author
Dan currently resides near Chandler, Arizona but spends most of his time exploring new worlds and associating with unique characters. When not engaging in fulfilling flights of fancy, he teaches elementary and junior high students, hoping to inspire within them a love of reading and writing (The trick is to get them while they are young.).
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