Daniel was reading an entry in the book over again. He'd barely even gotten into the various fairy tale monsters examined in the book he'd exchanged with Ava.

Banshees

You'd think it would be simple and clear cut; but no. The entire fey mythology of Ireland was full of contradictions. From what he had had read, either the farie population of Ireland were the lost souls of the dead or fallen angels or a race unto themselves.

The women of the barrow harolded deaths. It was uncleared what their wails meant though. In some legends they could prophosi who was doomed to die. In others, they only washed the clothes of those who had already perished. Most of the time they were tied to family lineages (O'Grandy, O'Neill, O'Brian) but sometimes it was just someone important. They didn't even have a common appearance. Washer women, a crow, a murdered woman, a weasel, or a hare. Daniel wondered a little how how the cry of so many animals happened to be associated with death.

Daniel rubbed his eyes. There was still a lot to read. Most of it didn't interest him much anyway but he read it anyway. There were still many entries before revenant and even more till vampire. Most was far too scholarly for him. The book referenced fairy tales he'd never heard of, or archetypes he'd never thought of, or Aarne-Thompson plot numbers he had no clue about. He was beginning to wish he'd bought one of the other books Ava had had in stock with numbered tales. The more he read the more he was sure he'd have to take up Ava on her offer to talk more.

Daniel set the book down and sighed. Nothing could ever be simple could it? In the world of the Lost, there was nothing but doubts and half guesses.