The Great Fury Read Online Free

world.
    â€œWhat time are we heading back?” Oengus asked, growing bored and cold.
    â€œThere’s something I need to show you,” John said, stirring himself.
    Oengus shrugged, there did not seem to be much else to see.
    â€œFollow me,” John said, dusting himself down and leading off around the rear of the ruined cottage. Oengus quickly packed his backpack, making sure to leave no rubbish, and hurried to follow his uncle.
    As they left Uncle John picked up a hand sized rounded stone. Oengus wondered was John taking a souvenir but he said nothing, as he did not want to volunteer to carry it in his small backpack.
    There was no pathway and it was difficult under foot. John struggled but Oengus was well used to walking rough boggy terrain. Surefooted he followed his uncle, enjoying the walk and had anyone asked him he would have said, ‘boring.’ But to his surprise he was enjoying the outing.
    â€œNear the blackthorns,” John said pointing while he stopped to gather his strength.
    They could see the top of a Clochan and the makings of a circle in stones.
    â€œIt is very overgrown,” Oengus remarked and led the way towards the small building.
    A small round building sometimes called ‘beehives,’ the Clochan was a superb example of the ancient’s skillful use of stone. It was built in circular layers each a slightly smaller diameter than the one below and roofed with a single capstone.
    â€œInside,” John instructed when he caught up.
    The entrance was narrow and it seemed very small and dark inside and Oengus hesitated, wondering how the two of them would fit and what on earth was the point of all this.
    John pushed and Oengus entered reluctantly.
    â€œI wouldn’t go there,” a voice said in an English accent.
    Oengus nearly collapsed in shock, unable to see in the dark.
    â€œWho said that?” he spluttered turning back towards John, who was squeezing in through the narrow entrance. The sound did not appear to have come from John and it was not an Americanized accent either.
    â€œDid you hear that Uncle John?” Oengus asked.
    â€œSure.”
    It was crowded and Oengus saw John lift the stone he had brought from the ruined cottage and raise it above his head. Instinctively Oengus raised his arms to protect his own head. John grabbed Oengus’s arm and pushed, simultaneously bringing the rock down with his right hand.
    Oengus ducked, but then realized John was not aiming at him.
    John swiveled having pushed Oengus out of his way, and turning he brought the rock down hard on the stone at the entrance portal.
    â€œOuch! Ouch! Ouch! The entrance stone said, changing color and sprouting legs and a head. A head with a bump on it.
    John shouted,
    â€œTo enter the Otherworld
    We say a magic word
    shin a bhuil!”
    At least that was the last thing Oengus heard as he fell. It seemed like the floor had opened into a well. He hoped it was a well as he fell, followed by his uncle down a dark perpendicular tunnel, because there’d be water at the end of a well.
    But it wasn’t a well. He hit some sort of soft turf mound and bounced. He rolled immediately, conscious that his large uncle was just behind him. John landed with a grunt and the rock that he had hit landed on Oengus’s head.
    â€œSorry,” the rock said as Oengus lost consciousness.

Chapter Three
    Oengus awoke with a headache. He was in a bed. Briefly as he awoke he’d a moment where he thought he was at home in his own bed, but he swiftly realized that he was not. He touched and discovered that he had a bandage around his head. He sat up. His head throbbed.
    He looked around to see there were four beds in the room.
    â€œHe’s awake!” someone said in a soft excited female voice.
    â€œIs this a hospital?” Oengus asked.
    The woman who came to his bed was not dressed as a nurse. She wore a green tunic and moved so smoothly she seemed to float rather than