Firebrand Read Free

enough available acreage for what my employer has in mind.”
    “A little farther. ’Tis worth the wait.”
    Sean followed the road inland and soon the vista gave way to a flatter landscape of moorland, purple with heather. Abundant lush pastures, the result of plentiful rainfall, seemed to stroll near a forest. The rounded peaks of the Mountains of Mourne now rose behind them.
    Sean brought the car to a stop. “From here we go on foot.”
    Marcus could hear the calls of rooks and wheatear as they flew from tree to tree-seeking worms and flies common in the grasslands. Meadow vetchling with its clusters of paled yellow flowers climbed up tall grasses and purple Marsh Thistle marked the wet spots but nothing substantial on which to build.
    “Which way?” he said, hoisting up his backpack shoulders.
    “There, through the rock wall.”
    They hiked in silence through the tall grass, the occasional scampering of a normally nocturnal pine marten startling Marcus. In the distance a corncrake rose, disturbed by the movement of the two men nearing her nest and a red deer ducked into the safety of a small clump of trees. The pathway suddenly split and Marcus began to head down the left fork.
    “No laddie not that way, there’s nothing there but the Dolmens. Not a place for your hotel. The Portal Tombs go back to 2000 BC. I won’t be having American graffiti on those megaliths. We go this way.” With a toss of his chin, he started down the right path.
    They walked until the sky began to darken in twilight and came to dense hedges with seemingly nothing beyond. Marcus pushed through the last thicket and ran out of land. Sean grabbed the back of his coat as he teetered on the edge of a limestone cliff. Below, slowly flowing clear blue water divided the ridge from a magnificent tree-lined meadow with hedgerows scoring it like a patchwork quilt.
    “Easy, laddie,” Sean cautioned pulling Marcus away from the edge, “Lest ya fall into the Boyne Lough.”
    Marcus could not move. He had never seen anything like it. It was perfect. He could see Eden.
    Sean ringed an area on the ridge with rocks and built a fire inside. It soon drew flickering fireflies and fluttering moths. He spooned some stew onto his plate. “Are you sure you di’na want some?”
    “No thanks.” Marcus watched the moths and fireflies dance around the undulating flames.
    “It is said that these fireflies are really fairies spying on us,” Sean quipped. “Me, I do believe it. Me grandmother told tales about these woods. About how they are filled with magic.” He held out a chipped mug. “Here, this tea’ll set ya to rights.”
    A chill had crept up his body, so Marcus welcomed the cup. After taking a sip, he pulled it away from his lips and furrowed his dark brows.
    Sean winked at him. “Just a nip of good Old Irish Johnny I added. To take the chill off.”
    Marcus grinned and took another drink. Warmth slid down his throat to his belly and soon warmed even his toes. He set the blue enamelware cup on a nearby rock. “I think the magic is in the whiskey.”
    Sean leaned closer and whispered. “And more. Me grandfather told us that his great grandfather saw one once.”
    “One what?”
    “A fairy. A beautiful one.”
    Marcus smiled. “I’m sure she was. Tall, slim with white hair and impossibly large eyes, the color of this forest.”
    “How’d ya know?” Sean leaned forward.
    “Because she lives in every fairy tale book ever written.”
    “Perhaps you are right, but he swears that he saw her just the same.”
    “More Irish Johnny perhaps.” Marcus slapped his knees with the palms of his hands and rose. “I think it’s time for a little nature walk. I’d like to get down to that meadow while I still have the light of the full moon.” He smiled. “Maybe I’ll even find one of those fairies for myself.”
    Sean settled back. “Every tale has its own bit of the truth laddie, ye best never forget that. Now if ye don’t mind I’ll be