Giant’s causeway
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Clochán an Aifir - the giant’s
causeway
~~~~~
The witch-light glowed as it floated
gently above the palm of his right hand. His left held the head of his cane.
The rocks of the giant’s causeway were slippery and treacherous and he needed
the cane for stability. The last thing he needed was to fall and let the light
go out.
It took much concentration to maintain
the magic light for such an extended time. The night was passing quickly and he
had to finish this before the dawn.
His familiar flew overhead in her
preferred bird form. The kite’s eyes were better than his.
He strode over the hexagonal basalt
columns looking for one in particular; an octagonal one. Using an artificial
light like a lamp or a flaming torch would not help; the stone would show only
under a magic flame. A kind of test of your ability. If you couldn’t even find
the stone, you could not gain entry.
And that was what he wanted.
He was searching for what lay under the
giant's causeway. He was searching for Finn MacCool, the man who made the
causeway according to legend. He wasn’t actually a giant; the stories had that
wrong. Perhaps his size had grown as his reputation did. But he did have
supernatural abilities and as the world changed, he had retreated to the world
of the fae. The octagonal block marked the entrance like a door handle.
A whistle from the kite and he saw it.
A blink at the edge of his vision.
The kite swooped down and landed on his
shoulder.
“Ready?” he asked her.
~~~~
© AM Gray 2014
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