“I can’t make sense of it. I feel like Fecky the Ninth.” I stared glumly out the window.
“Dead end?” Katie asked.
“Beyond the far wack, is more like it,” I mumbled. “Even if we’re able to locate Hy-Brasil, there’s a multitude of complications to consider.”
“Is a multitude more or less than a shit ton?” Orin quipped, coming out of his self-reflection.
Ignoring him, I sighed. “For openers, we don’t even know if it’s still inhabited.”
“How could a vanishing island be inhabited?” Katie asked.
“Well, for that matter, how could a vanishing island vanish at all?” I countered. “All these magical elements defy logical analysis.”
Katie said “Suppose it is inhabited? Who’d be there?”
I shook my head. “People? Druids? Wild beasts? Would they be helpful? Hostile? We have no way of telling.”
“Fair point,” Keegan said. “But, if this missing gizmo is so valuable, makes sense they’d fight us for it.”
“Aaach, you’d fight over a plastic spork, let alone the Bone Knife,” Orin chuckled.
“And if it’s not inhabited,” I went on, “Then where do we begin to look? How big is this mysterious island?”
“Must be a good size, if it has four cities,” Orin opined.
“That’s a shit ton of ground to cover,” Katie pointed out. “Do we split up, or stick together?”
Orin let out a low grumble. “I stick with the Princess. Period.”
I turned to look at Keira, sleeping soundly on Weylyn’s shoulder. I cringed at the thought of putting her in such a peril. “Furthermore,” I went on, “this place is ancient. The power of the raw, primeval magic on Hy-Brasil is unfathomable. Inconceivable we could waltz right in and not be in danger.”
“I heard a story that it’s full of giant black rabbits, and is inhabited by a Druid who lives in a castle,” Keegan said with all seriousness.
“Keegan, you’re an idiot,” Katie scoffed. “It’s the home of the gods, not some animal sanctuary for stray Pookahs.”
“I’m just saying. Well, why not? Everything we’ve learned is from myths or legends.” Keegan said as he sipped his water. “Why take the word of one story over another?”
“I’d put more stock in the written record,” I said.
Orin added “Whereas, Keegan does all his learning in the pub.”
“I’m not claiming there is a whole rake of giant rabbits,” Keegan insisted. “But I don’t rule out the possibility.”
Unlikely as it is, Keegan was right about one thing. Everything that’s happened in our ‘reality’ is the stuff of nightmares and legends. When the impossible is possible, it’s all in rag order. Nothing is what it seems. “Maybe you’re right,” I stated plainly, earning me dirty looks from Orin and Katie.
“You can’t be serious, Brann,” Katie said.
Orin piped in. “You’re supposed to be the level headed one.”
“Keegan’s on to something, though. Have you ever stopped to think there could be truths behind these stories we’ve been told?”
“Hmph. Lost Island of the Pookahs it is, then.” Katie huffed.
“Well, people over-analyze stories—” I tried, but Orin cut in.
“You for example, Brann. You’d over-analyze a bowl of Cheerios.”
“My point is this. Logic may lead us away from the truth, not toward it, but what if we assume they are true?” I said, surprised at my own revelation. “For argument’s sake, that is.”
Orin and Keegan mulled that over, but Katie turned back to me. “I can’t believe I’m saying this, but... look, there are millions of people who don’t believe a word of this stuff.”
“Amen!” Orin blurted. “They’re bang on.”
“Are they? People don’t believe in Fairies, either,” Katie countered. “Or Shape shifters. Sorcerers. Leprechauns.”
“Or Pookahs!” Keegan chimes in cheerfully.
We were about an hour out of Bantry when Patrick called to tell us he had forwarded some more research for us, and secured accommodations at an ‘adequate’ Bed and Breakfast. I soon wished I’d asked him to define ‘adequate’.
◆◆◆
We walked into the B&B and dumped our bags on the worn carpet. Keira rang the bell for service. A few moments later, an ancient man tottered out, sporting a worn-out shirt and shabby slacks. He was not much taller than the counter, and he looked old enough to be the same innkeeper who turned away Mary and Joseph. But when he saw us, he smiled. “You must be the Morrigan group?”
“We are,” Keira said with a smile.
“Welcome. My name is Fionn.” He slapped three keys on the counter. “I have three rooms all set up for you, two of them adjoining.”
“Perfect, thank you,” Keira said, as I picked up the keys.
“How much will it be?” Katie asked, casting a glance around that implied one dollar might be overcharging.
“All taken care off, it is. Mr. McDonough’s paid in advance. I took the liberty of putting the requested books up in the larger room. If you need anything, let me know. Take the stairs up to the second floor, your rooms are the last three.”
Before we could say anything else, Fionn shuffled back into the kitchen. The whole herd of us tramped up the narrow stairs, and made our way to our rooms. Keira threw the door open and we all piled in, jockeying for a look.
“Well, Patrick was exaggerating when he said it was ‘adequate’,” Keira groused, as she walked around.
The room was plain. A king size bed decorated in grandma’s favorite floral print, old worn furniture, and dodgy stains on the carpet. “You think that’s chocolate?” Katie asked as she poked a dark brown stain with her shoe.
“I hope so,” Keegan said, as he tried to tug the window open.
“We’re not on holiday,” Orin said, opening the door to the adjoining room. “Twin beds”.
“Perfect for twins,” Weylyn snapped, shouldering past his brother to claim the best bed for himself.
Katie quickly snatched the third key. “Fine. You oafs can snore and fart the room up. Keira and I get the third room.” Then added “For privacy, of course.”
“That means we get the king!” Keegan chucked me on the shoulder. “Dibbs!” he yelled, and threw himself on the mattress, taking the side by the window.
Keira shook her head, and followed after Katie to their room. I dumped
