Emerald Islands

Oilill, Cupid, the Cloudmare, and Sidheag stood on a circle of flat, smooth gray stone near a replica of the heel stone at Stonehenge. A little yellow sun danced around an amber sky. Light ran from a large shadowy spiraling hole overhead and a deep gray speck appeared low in the sky. Miniscule gray rays from the tiny speck enhanced the Cloudmare’s image. When the quartet stepped off the circle of gray stone, the stone circle disappeared. The four looked all around and did not see the Dreamraider. Oilill pondered, “Where is she? Where are we?” Cupid stated, “That didn’t hurt at all. Passing through the bluestone usually stings a lot. Her spell helped. I do some bartering on this Emerald Island, but it’s a rather rough place. I’m not sure my contacts here would welcome us.” Oilill looked around at the lush green foliage and commented, “This looks just like home. I see bracken, bilberry, bell heather, and ling heather. Look! There’s a wood white. I think they’re the prettiest moths in all the Emerald Island. Uh, our Emerald Island that is. Are you sure we aren’t near Blarney Castle?” The Kelpie’s servitude didn’t prohibit speaking her mind and Sidheag tauntingly said, “Look at the sky nimrod. Is the sky above Lough Neagh amber? Does the sun dance around a hole in the sky?” Sean the púca continued, “Trust me, Oilill. We are not home. You won’t find the friendly confines of Kilkenny Tavern over the hill. It’s true plants, animals, and bugs are similar. Come to think of it, I’ve also never seen a snake on this island. Mind you, I don’t look for snakes. Listen up! To get back home, we’ll return to this place. The heel stone’s twin serves as focal point. I touch the false heel stone thirteen times; go to a point thirteen paces from the stone, and sprinkle a bit of Oilill’s sand. The gray circle then reappears under my feet. Next thing I know I’m standing in the middle of the Uragh Stone Circle. Going back hurts more.” Oilill nervously checked the Water Stone (SSW) that adhered by unseen and unfelt forces to his doughy tummy. The Wind Stone (SSA) rested in his wondrous Bag of Holding. The shoemaker didn’t understand why he didn’t have to maintain contact with the latter artifact. Perhaps, the Cloudmare Shyrra wasn’t as nefarious as the Kelpie Sidheag. Only rarely had the lovely misty equine sent a thought to the cobbler, but now Oilill heard her silent message, “I’ve read the púca’s thoughts. He doesn’t really know a lot about the area around us. If you get in trouble, he’ll likely barter to save himself. Perhaps I should scout the area. I fly silently.”