Book One: Chapter 87

“So a powerful wizard then?” Mike asked.

“More than that. To accomplish such a spell would require Old Magic. The kind of magic that created me, and Naia. Humans, to my knowledge, are incapable of such a feat. But in my heart, I know that he was a human, or at least used to be.”

“What do you remember?” Mike asked.

“My family in Ireland. I was the spirit responsible for taking them to the afterlife. Every family had one, a gift from the spirits of the land to the people. Back in the old days, humans and the sidhe lived in harmony. With the spread of the Catholic Church, many of the old ways were lost to them, and the sidhe took back many of their gifts, but the banshees remained. We are tied to our family, for all time or until they cease to believe in us.”

“Is that what happened to your family?”

“No. The potato famine. There was a period of time where I came to their home every few days. The soul survivor of my family was a child who was taken in by the