Tale of the Stone Stealer

Once upon a time… Dr. Harrison Walker cursed as he heard a squeak from the far corner of the room. He tried to ignore it and went back to studying the rock shavings under his microscope. Then came another squeak.

In the past two days, his makeshift laboratory had been infiltrated by a pack of rats, seemingly hellbent on annoying him into madness.

Hearing the enemy’s latest incursion, Walker rushed to the corner of the former greenhouse just in time to see the animal’s tail disappear through a crack in the floorboards.

“Damn it!” the Englishman cursed again.

He’d suffered enough of these distractions. I have work to do! Enough of these damn rodents!

Still grumbling, Walker headed down to the small nearby town in County Cork. When he returned, he was armed with several rattraps and enough poison to kill a horse.

“This’ll rid me of you vermin,” he said as he slid the first trap into the crack under the floorboards. The other traps were strategically placed. Satisfied that the lab was secure, he returned to his work. The examination had barely restarted when a loud knock at the door interrupted him.

“At least it’s not a rat this time,” Walker muttered. It wasn’t a rat, but as far as the Doctor was concerned, it was something just as annoying: an Irishman.

“Mr. Connor,” Walker said.

“Doctor,” the old man replied. He was clearly agitated. “I really have to put my foot down and ask you to stop this!” He pushed his way into the old greenhouse. Walker began to protest but bit his tongue. The building did belong to Connor, but he’d rented it to the Doctor. Surely that guaranteed him some privacy?

“I must state my uncomfortable feelings on this matter,” Connor said.

“And what matter is that?”

The old Irishman grunted and waved at the content of Walker’s worktable. Along with tools and notebooks, sat a number of grey stones. Each one the size of a clenched fist. At first glance, each appeared like any other rock, but Dr. Walker knew there was so much more to them.

The stones were a fascinating puzzle to unravel. Their composition was no different than any other stone found in any other field. They weren’t volcanic. They didn’t have any meaningful amount of iron. Yet they produced a shocking strong magnetic field.

It was this mystery that brought Dr. Walker out into the middle of rural Ireland. A circumstance he was hating more and more with each interruption.

“Don’t start with those damn superstitions again, Connor,” the Doctor said.

“You never cross the Fae Folk, sir!” Connor said. “Let alone steal from them. Let alone steal stones out of a Fairy Ring!”

Walker rolled his eyes.

“These are not the delightful sprites of children’s songs!” Connor continued. “These are far older, mysterious, and much more dangerous. Return the stones to their circle, and you may yet avoid disaster!”

“I don’t have time for your fairy tales, sir,” Walker said when the Irishman paused to catch his breath. “I’m here to do real work on real natural phenomena. These stones might teach us something that we…”

“Those fairy tales teach real things about our world, Dr. Walker,” the old man interjected. “Lessons about humility, and respecting the world we live in. Some places are meant to be left alone, and some things are not meant to be known.”

Dr. Walker’s frustration boiled over. “Mr. Connor, I have no time for your old Celt… bullshit! I’m a serious man, doing scientific work. Leave me to that work. Now!”

The outburst seemed to take Connor by surprise. He stepped back toward the door and held his hands up as if pleading.

“Fine, Dr. Walker,” the old man said. “I’ll leave, but I sincerely hope you listen to my warnings. I’m looking out for your safety. Fairy tales were not always lighthearted fantasy. They were the brutal teachings and terrifying warnings of a dangerous world. Remember that and, please, make the right decision.”

As Connor walked away, his words hung in the air. It wasn’t long, however, before Walker forgot them, and returned to his research.

He continued his initial study of samples scraped off the surface of the stones, but soon his curiosity became too much.

Enough surface samples, Walker concluded. Time to get to the heart of the matter.

He grabbed his hammer and chisel, and prepared to split the largest of the stones right in half. “Superstitious fools be damned,” he said before the first swing. A loud bang filled the lab. Walker wind up for the second swing when a pained squeak came from the floorboards.

“Ah!” the Doctor exclaimed. “I got one of you annoying bastards!” He could barely contain his pride as he marched over to the crack and reached a gloved hand inside. Sure enough, when he pulled out the trap, a dead rat was caught in it. “Good! One down!”

Basking in this triumph, Walker examined the creature. It was certainly dead, but there was something more to it. There was something on the rat’s back. A pile of twigs and flower petals, held in place by blades of grass.

The pile almost resembled a… a saddle.

“What…?” Dr. Walker whispered before the floorboard began to rattle loose. Soon the entire floor of the makeshift lab was violently shaking.

A horrific sound filled the air. As Walker covered his ears, he realized what it was: a scream, but not from anything human.

“What is this?” he shouted. No answer came.

The floorboards collapsed into the ancient soil below the greenhouse, and Dr. Walker felt himself pulled down, sinking into the dirt. The last thing he saw before going under was the Fairy Stones knock off their perch by… something. A thing that followed him and the stones into the opening ground.