Jackson turned the volume down for the third time only to have his brother flick it back up.

“What’s got into you?”

“I thought I heard something.” Jackson turned the radio off. Using a pair of vice grips, he rolled down the truck’s rickety window. “Can’t you hear it?”

“Nope.” Robby braked on a sharp turn made slick after a recent rain shower. “Look at that.” His voice was breathy with wonder. “We’ve found the end of the rainbow.”

A kaleidoscope of colors sparkled under the Irish sun, turning the windshield into a giant prism, nearly blinding in its intensity. Jackson’s eyes widened in wonder.

“I guess it’s our lucky day.” Robby laughed. “But where’s the pot of gold?”

Jackson didn’t answer. Suddenly doubled over, he clutched his chest. Pain, grinding in its intensity, stole his breath.

Robby eased the truck off the road and leaned over to grip his younger brother’s shoulder. “What’s wrong, Jack?” The bones beneath Robby’s fingers felt far too fragile. Jackson may have been thirteen, but he resembled a weedy ten-year-old.

“Talk to me,” Robby said, trying to get a better look at the smaller boy’s face. The warm spattering of freckles that dotted his cheeks stood in stark relief as Jackson’s normal color continued to wash away. Robby’s gut twisted with concern.

Drawing in a shuddery breath, Jackson sat up. “It’s gone.”

“Gone?” Robby straightened. “What do you mean, it’s gone? You looked like you were going to puke your guts out.”

“Yeah, well, it wasn’t sick I was feeling.”

“Just gas, then, huh?” Robby tweaked Jackson’s nose, relieved but not wholly mollified.

“Shut up.” Jackson batted his brother’s hand away.

Settling back behind the wheel, Robby eyeballed a colorful encampment up ahead. “Well, look there, the Travellers are back in town. That’ll put a burr up the village council’s backsides.”

Jackson looked where Robby pointed. Several brightly-colored caravans, both new and old, filled the wide spot along the verge. From experience, Jackson knew that a small brook ran through the spinney that bordered the clearing, which was why the Travellers chose the site whenever they were in the area.

When he and his mum had come into town the week prior, the space had been empty. And yet, even over such a short period, it had become cluttered. Old propane tanks, wooden crates, discarded clothing, and a rusted-out washing machine were among the many things piled off to one side.

“Why do they transport that stuff only to throw it away? It makes no sense,” Robby mused.

A flicker of motion caught Jackson’s attention. He leaned forward in his seat as a gaggle of children burst from the woods, screaming in delight as they chased each other with wooden swords. Sporting flowered aprons tied around their necks, their make-believe capes billowed as they scampered about waving their weapons.

Jackson felt a pang of longing. They looked like they were having fun. Dragon farms tended to be rural. And since his three brothers had yet to marry, there weren’t any other kids for him to play with.

“Are you all right then, boyo?” Robby playfully tugged at one of Jackson’s coppery curls. “Do we need to head home? Or can you hang on long enough to pick up the dragon feed at the abattoir? You know they don’t like to hold the big orders overnight.”

“No, I’m fine. I don’t know what came over me.”

“Can you describe what it felt like?” Glancing over his shoulder, Robby pulled the truck back onto the blacktop. They didn’t have far to go.

“I thought I heard something, but it wasn’t like words. More like a feeling.”

“What kind of feeling?”

“Desperation.” Jackson rubbed his breastbone. “I couldn’t breathe.”

“Dang, that’s harsh. You sure you’re okay?”

“Yeah, I am.”

Ten minutes later, Robby signaled before pulling into the customer pick-up line at C & J Meat Packing, where three other trucks already waited.

“It looks like it’ll be a while.” Robby shut off the motor.

Most dragon trainers had their feed delivered, but a few, like McLoughlin Racing Stables, still preferred to pick up their orders.

“Guarantees it’s fresh and right off the line.” The brothers laughed as they simultaneously recited their da’s favorite dictum. It wasn’t like they went inside to retrieve the meat. It rolled out to the loading dock on a conveyor belt. Who knew how long it sat there before it finally ended up in the bed of their truck?

“Since we’re going to be here for a while, would you be okay with going to the mercantile by yourself?”

“Yeah.” Jackson opened the door.

“Wait. Have you got enough dosh?” Robby smiled, reaching for his wallet. “New boots don’t come cheap.”

“Mum gave me what she said I would need. ‘And not a pingin’ more.’” Jackson shook his finger at his brother, mimicking their mother.

Robby laughed at his brother’s impersonation. “Still, you sure you don’t want another ten quid, kiddo?”

“Nah.” They both knew they couldn’t afford the fifty pounds Jackson had tucked in the pocket of his jeans. But he’d been wrapping duct tape over the ever-widening holes in the soles of his boots for some time. Dragon urine was pretty caustic stuff.

“I’m going to stop by the Oxfam store first. You never know. I might find something that fits for a third of the price. Then I won’t have to buy new ones. If I get really lucky, they might have a set of Wellies without big cracks in the rubber.”

“If you didn’t wade around in the slurry pit, your boots would last longer.”

“Oh yeah? And who would be emptying the pits if I didn’t do it, Robby? You?” Jackson snorted as he slipped out of the cab and, with a big grin, flashed a rude gesture at his older brother.