Silver Dew (17 page)

Sebastian’s smile was full of mischief as he shrugged. “We want to find answers here – so we will.”

I froze in my tracks. “That’s your big plan?”

“Its brilliance lies in its simplicity.”

“Sebastian,” I began, only half-trying to keep the exasperation from my voice.

“Just trust me, Gracelynn. Trust yourself.”

We began slowly moving towards the large glass doors of the airport’s exit, carried along by the crowd. Sebastian stood before me, holding the door open and inviting me to take a leap of faith.

I took a deep breath, sensing that this was an important moment. I tried to focus all of my energy and all of my wants as I boldly stepped forward and through the door.

“Let’s go.”

I flashed Sebastian a quick smile as I stepped past him, leading the way outside. It felt right to be doing so for after all, even if this was his country, this trip was more about me than him - if it were possible to untwine our lives and hearts enough to make the distinction.

I immediately noticed the difference in the air as we stepped outside. There was a slight dampness to it despite the sun’s warmth that carried faint hints of the scents of the land. The air tasted differently too, fresher and fuller than the dry, recirculated air of the plane and airport. The sun, though bright, carried only a lingering warmth to it as it was slowly sliding downwards to the distant horizon. I was glad I’d packed a sweater near the top of my backpack and was about to take it out when a taxi pulled up in front of us. Without thinking or questioning what I was doing, I reached for the back door and hopped inside, Sebastian was right behind me.

“Hi ya? Where to?” the cabbie asked, his strong accent and quick words flowing together so thickly I struggled to understand him.

I shrugged out of my backpack, waiting expectantly for Sebastian to answer. When I glanced at him though he was grinning, smiling just as expectantly at me.

“Well? What’ll it be? Where to?” the man demanded somewhat gruffly. I had a sudden sense that he might not like foreigners. I threw Sebastian a dark look for putting the pressure on me like this even though it was I who had jumped into the cab.

“Oh… umm…” I stalled nervously. The man tapped his thick, calloused fingers against the steering wheel impatiently. I couldn’t see why he was in such a rush – the meter was already running so really it was to his benefit that I was dawdling.

“Don’t ya know where you want t’go?”

His eyes met mine in the mirror and I was surprised by the warmth in their aqua shades, despite his harsh-sounding words.

“No, I don’t know,” I admitted honestly. Sebastian cocked his head to one side, watching me curiously and silently, that look of expectation still in his eyes. I tried my best to ignore him. “About two thousand years into the past should do,” I added a little testily, realizing the ridiculousness of our situation. Where were we going? What did we really expect to find? “Sorry for wasting your time. We’ll just wait for another taxi while we figure out–”

“Nah, I know exactly where t’take yous.” The driver put the car into gear as he spoke and began pulling away from the curb. “Only one place near Belfast that’s old enough for what you’re lookin’ for. The Giant’s Ring’s ‘bout five thousand years old and a mighty fine sight at sunset to boot. I won’t wait for ya while you walk round but if you have a phone, another cab’ll come get ya when you’re done. Tourists always want t’see The Giant’s Ring. Not the first time I’ve taken a Yank straight there from the airport.”

It took me a minute to fully process what he’d just said – or at least I thought I understood what he’d said. I was having a much harder time than I’d expected understanding his accent. What the heck was a Giant’s Ring? And had he just called me a Yank?

“I’m Canadian,” I corrected as politely as possible.

The man shrugged as he drove us away from the airport and into the city of Belfast.

“Ah, it’s all the same, ain’t it?”

“Not at all,” Sebastian disagreed, speaking up for the first time. “But I reckon ya know that.”

I looked at Sebastian, surprised by the sudden change in his voice. His typically light and pleasant accent was suddenly just as heavy and difficult to understand as the cabbie’s. For a split second, I’d almost thought he wasn’t speaking English.

“Ah! I thought you looked t’be an Irish lad,” the driver declared with a pleased grin. “A Northerner too, I’ll bet. Been travellin’ have ya? Found somethin’ you wanted t’bring home to show your folks, then?” He laughed heartily at his own joke, completely ignoring me now that he realized I was the only foreigner in his cab.

“And did your parents teach ya how to speak proper Irish then, lad? Or have you been traveling with your pretty Yank too long to remember?”

I strained to understand what the man was saying as his accent appeared to thicken even more and his rapidly flowing words somehow increased in pace. One word stood out easily enough though.

“I’m Canadian,” I repeated, annoyed at how quickly I’d been forgotten. Sebastian laughed, his eyes quickly meeting mine over his smile.

Sebastian and the driver began to banter back and forth, both grinning and laughing and obviously thoroughly enjoying their conversation. I could barely understand a word of it. It actually took me several minutes to realize that they weren’t even speaking English anymore though I couldn’t honestly say at what point they had switched to Gaelic. It didn’t surprise me at all that Sebastian spoke the language with such obvious ease and fluency.

I ignored their chatter and turned my attention to the sights we were passing out the window. I only had a few hours of daylight to enjoy the sights of Ireland and I was determined to absorb as much of it as I could in my limited time. Of course, we might have time in the morning still – if we didn’t find the answers we needed tonight, if the Others hadn’t caught up to us yet, if we were still alive… I pushed the morbid thoughts away, knowing that if I spent too much time allowing myself to fully realize the depths of our situation, I would become too hopeless and terrified by despair to move forward. And we had to move forward – it was our only choice.

As we drove further away from the airport and into the city of Belfast, I examined everything we passed with great interest. The city itself was an intriguing combination of old Victorian-style buildings and renovated, modern storefronts. Here and there were hints of the damage that the city had suffered during the recent “Troubles” and conflicts between the Catholic nationalists and Protestant unionists. There had been a lot of violence and even bombings in the city, and we still passed the occasional sight of Loyalist graffiti or Protestant flag.

As we traveled down one street, I caught a glimpse of the two giant cranes, nicknamed Samson and Goliath, that loomed high over the city’s busy harbor. We traveled away from the ocean and in land through the south-west of the city towards the more residential streets. I gazed out at the small, brick homes we passed in wonder, idly imagining Sebastian and I marrying and moving to Ireland together to live in one of those quaint and cozy-looking houses. As we traveled further west and out of the city, I stared in wonder at the curious murals we passed on the sides of some of the buildings.

I was about to ask Sebastian about them, but just then he caught my eye and gave a quick yet subtle shake of his head before launching into another loud and laughter-filled debate with our driver. The murals must have something to do with “The Troubles” then, I guessed. Sebastian had warned me about the precarious political situation in the city and how even though the worst of the conflict and turmoil had passed, it was still recent enough in everyone’s minds that just the smallest spark could ignite another raging fire.

The Giant’s Ring turned out to be just outside of the city in a rural part of Ballynahatty. It didn’t take long at all for us to drive there, barely thirty minutes. The driver pulled into a parking lot just off the road. The lot was surrounded by surprisingly thick and tall trees, and though it was obvious they thinned ahead, it was impossible to see just exactly what the trees were hiding.

“Out you go then!” the man declared cheerfully, abruptly switching back to English. “Show yer pretty Yank around The Giant’s Ring and then get on home. I’m sure yer Mam’ll be itchin’ to meet ‘er.”

Sebastian and the man shared a grin. Sebastian thanked him heartily and shook his hand before climbing out of the cab. I remained in the backseat, digging through my wallet for the correct amount of fare.

“Nah, nah! Put that away,” the man instructed as he saw what I was doing. He shook his head adamantly. “I’ve already told your lad that I won’t be chargin’ ya - this time. Welcome to Ireland,” he added in a rough voice but with a smile.

“Thank you – that’s very generous of you. Thank you very much.”

“My pleasure. Now get out.”

I grinned back at the man, suddenly liking him a lot more as I put my wallet away and climbed out of the car. As soon as the door closed behind me he pulled away, one hand thrust out the window in a quick wave as he drove back down the straight and narrow street, past the country homes and fields and back towards the city that rose up on the north-eastern skyline.

“So what were you two so busy talking about?” I asked Sebastian curiously. He smiled in his most charming way as he linked his fingers through mine and we slowly started walking towards a path at the edge of the parking lot that led through the tall, gently swaying trees. The path led into the long shadows as the sun had nearly set on the day and a cool, evening breeze was picking up that stirred the branches above us and swept my hair back from my face.

“Just idle chit-chat,” Sebastian assured me. “Apparently, I reminded him of one of his sons. He shared some tales of his youngest’s debauchery that I wouldn’t want to translate. They’d make you blush.”

“Oh, please. I’m not that innocent,” I objected. Sebastian wisely chose not to answer. The corners of his mouth twitched though as if he were fighting a smile. I felt my cheeks warm – only from annoyance, I assured myself.

“Where are we?” I brusquely changed the subject.

“The Giant’s Ring, a mysterious and sacred site that surrounds a five thousand year old henge. And it’s also a popular tourist attraction and great place to walk the dog,” he added with a grin as a couple were approaching us further down the path with a little Scottish terrier trotting along beside them.

“Have you been here before?”

“Yes, a long, long time ago. I traveled here after… after Caoilinn passed away. It was one of the first places she had wanted to come to after we left the temple but of course, we never made it this far together…” He frowned, the lines in his face deepening with the shadows in his eyes. We fell into silence as we passed the elderly couple and their dog, exchanging polite smiles and nods.

It was cooler in the shade of the trees and I let go of Sebastian’s hand to zip up my hoodie; he barely seemed to notice. The woods were thinning ahead and I could now see the green meadow we were approaching, the tall grasses swaying ahead of us and ripples running across the sea of grass like waves in the wind. Leaves and branches crunched beneath my feet and a sudden cool gust of wind whipped my breath away from me and made the tall, old trees above us groan. All I could see was the sea of bright green grass ahead and the flowing dip and roll to the land. A strange sensation was beginning to tingle over my scalp, trickling down my spine and chasing over my skin in a magnetic, electric current. I could feel it in my heart too and in my soul, and I knew that this was a powerful place, the magic of it hung heavily in the very air. I fought the urge to run ahead, to charge out into the large open area we were approaching.

“I feel like I’ve been here before,” I whispered as we emerged from the shade of the trees and out into the fading evening sun. My breathy words were swept away with the wind and out over the knee-high grasses.

Sebastian didn’t look at me as he answered. We both stared out at the beautiful sight before us as it filled our vision and overwhelmed us in so many ways.

“Caoilinn told me of this place. She wanted to come here, it was important to her but she never told me why. She described it as if she had been here herself, though I’m not sure if she truly understood the nature of it.”

“No,” I agreed, the words coming to me without thought. “The magic here is wild, unharnessed. I can feel it in the earth and the air, in the stones. What is it?”

My hair stood on end as I waited for him to answer. The power in the air so undeniable I found myself looking around almost nervously, as if expecting lightning to suddenly strike from the clear and cloudless sky that arched endlessly above us from horizon to horizon.

We stood near the edge of “The Ring” on the brim of a massive bowl in the earth. The steep banks were built up at least 15 meters high all around and sloped down to the flat centre. It formed a huge, perfectly round ring in the earth that looked to be about 200 meters wide. I could see the path led all the way around the ring, there was a solitary man walking opposite us on the far side. Down in the center of the ring, there was a gathering of several large stones, piled up and balanced on top of one another somewhat precariously. Two teenaged boys tossed a ball back and forth just beside the stones, the everyday activity seeming unnatural and out-of-place in this strange, enchanting place.

“The Druids used this place but even Caoilinn didn’t know exactly what it was they did here. Even in our time, the stones had already stood for thousands of years. The ring holds centuries of secrets within it.”