Chapter 1

Chapter One

D arkness. It was beyond black. He couldn’t even see the hand in front of his face, and Byron James did try. He felt a coldness creep into his bones. He had to get out of wherever he was. He tried to find a wall, and when he did, he yanked his hand back immediately. The wall was cold, slimy, almost like the inside of some great beast, and he was sure he felt something touch him.

His heart raced as he turned in circles, trying to find a way out.

Up ahead, he saw light. He smiled as he continued moving. He found the way out of this nightmarish place. In a hurry to get to freedom, he suddenly ran into a webbing. Without warning, he was entangled among the spidery webbing with hundreds of spiders crawling all over him.

A scream startled him from his slumber, sitting up with his heart pounding in his chest.

Rubbing his hand over his face, he tossed the covers off and headed to the bathroom. Peering at himself in the mirror, he looked pale. His dark hair was askew, and his usually bright blue eyes were dull and red with weariness. His tall frame was slightly hunched over from no rest. He hadn’t been getting any sleep since his trip to Ireland.

He had been warned about the fairy rings and fairy trees. “Such a load of malarkey,” he said to the others. “There are no such things as fairies.” He laughed, took a stone from the fairy ring and stuck it in his pocket to prove it.

Yet, since then, he has had a run of bad luck to go with the nightmares that plagued him. First, his plane home was delayed due to engine problems, a flat tire, and a gas leak. His carryon had been stolen. When he finally made it to the United States, it took so long to clear immigration that he missed his connecting flight. He finally arrived home days later.

He hoped his bad luck would change if he sent the stone back to Ireland.

Byron’s nightmares varied each night. The first horrendous dream he’d had, he was still in Ireland.

“Thief!” He heard as he was running, feeling like something was chasing him. The dream had started with him standing by the fairy ring. Something whizzed by him, startling him. His adrenaline kicked in, and he knew he had to escape.

He ran as fast as possible but couldn’t get very far. He entered the woods only to find the exact fairy ring. “Thief!” He could hear heavy footsteps behind him with a slight fluttering sound he couldn’t quite place.

“Thief!”

He panicked further and kept running in circles. The footsteps seemed closer, yet he saw no one. The cry reverberated around him each time he came to the fairy ring.

“Thief!”

In a frantic terror, he awoke, his heart still racing, his skin clammy. Since sleep evaded him, he walked around his room until the sun rose and he could head to the airport to come home. If only he knew better, then. He would have returned the stone immediately .

His nightly torment continued each time he slept.

Maybe he should go back to Ireland and the fairy ring, after all, to beg their forgiveness, but he didn’t have the stone any longer and wasn’t sure where it was. A part of him still believed it was just a powerful suggestion about the fairy curse, but lack of sleep made him question his rationality.