“Start on this side,” he told Michael wearily. “Look low because whatever it is, it leads beneath the courtyard.”
The two of them began to look. It was tedious. They were both white with dust, sweating profusely despite the damp cold of the crypt.
Michael paused. “We need Aidan—he can help. He’s in as much trouble here as we are.”
And Devin? Where was Devin?
Rocky was surprised by the depth of the fear that gripped him. He pushed past Michael, finding the stairs to the pub directly above the crypt.
They were narrow, winding. The door above didn’t give. Locked.
But, no. He was certain it wasn’t going to be locked as it should have been.
He hefted his shoulder against the door and it opened.
He spilled out into the lights of the pub like a ghost risen from above.
His arrival was met by dozens of screams.
He ignored them, looking around the pub, then looking for Siobhan and Allen. He didn’t see Siobhan.
Allen was behind the bar, trying to calm people and still pour his perfect pints.
Rocky raced over to him. “Allen, where is Devin? Where did she go?”
“She raced after you,” he said.
“And Aidan—where’s my brother?” Michael asked.
Allen dead paused for a minute. “Are you crazy—they raced out after you! After that, I don’t know. Look at this place—does it appear that I could be watching people!”
They all froze after his words. A different cry suddenly filled the night.
It was lilting; it was high. It was mournful and truly beautiful.
The real banshee!
Rocky turned and gripped Michael by the shoulders. “Come on—come on, now! We’re finding where that escape is, and we’re finding it now!”
“But they didn’t come with us…how do we know…?” Michael stuttered.
“We don’t know where it lets out,” Rocky said. “We do know that it leads from the crypts. Let’s go—now! And we’ll find it—don’t you see, someone’s life depends upon it now!”
* * * *
Aidan could stride quickly when he chose.
The courtyard was quiet; no one was about.
Aidan didn’t seem to notice—he was on a mission.
Which meant that Devin was on a mission, too.
She was quickly running to keep up with him, running into the night. They passed the storytelling area by the pit and headed down toward the road to the village. She realized—huffing and puffing somewhat despite the fact that she was in pretty good shape—that they were heading to the center of the village.
To St. Patrick’s of the Village.
And the graveyard that surrounded it.
She gave up trying to hide the fact that she was following him. He had absolutely no interest in looking back.
The wind rose; it seemed to be pushing her forward. The air was damp and cool. The moon rose high over them, as if guiding them along. It shimmered over the massive Celtic crosses and small headstones and footstones, mausoleums and vault.
Aidan hopped the little stone fence.
Devin did the same, hurrying after him.
He made straight for the Karney family tomb. When he reached it, he pulled open the gate.
Still not locked!
She followed, slowing her gait. Aidan disappeared into the vault. She waited a second, catching her breath, and then she crept to the entry. She could see him deep in the vault.
Once again, he’d thought to bring a flashlight.
She crept in, pausing by the tombs of Brianna and Declan Karney, watching the light. He was heading deep into the back—deep into the hillock that covered the family vault.
She began to follow, moving along carefully. She left behind any semblance of the modern world, entering the tunnel where the sides were lined with shelves of the dead, ghostly in their decaying shrouds. Some shrouds were gone; one skull was turned toward her. The jaw had fallen off. The skull seemed to scream out a warning.
She kept going.
Aidan paused ahead; she feared that he was going to turn.
Wincing, Devin threw herself onto one of the shelves—by the looks of the gown, she was next to the bones of a deceased lady of the manor. The dust covered her; the bones seemed to rattle in anger at the disturbance. She nearly sneezed.
She caught herself, barely daring to breathe.
Aidan went on.
She crawled out of her hiding space and went after him, coming closer and closer behind him.
He paused suddenly and spun around. She didn’t move quickly enough; she froze in the glare of his light.
Aidan screamed. His flashlight fell.
“Jesus and the saints preserve us!” Aidan muttered, falling on his knees. “No, lady, I beg of you, I’m not even next in line!” he pleaded.
Stunned, Devin gathered herself together and headed for him. She picked up the flashlight. He was on his knees, still muttering prayers, crossing himself.
“Aidan! It’s me—Devin!” she said.
He went still and then looked up carefully, looking at her with only one eye open—as if that would help if she were a demon.
“Oh, my God!” he breathed. “You look like death itself!”
“I had a run-in with some bones,” she told him. “Aidan, what are you doing here?”
“I’m finding the bastard—or the banshee!” he told her.
“In here?”
He let out a soft sigh.
“Aye, in here! I think that there’s a tunnel—leads all the way back to the castle crypts. I was reading a history about the Battle of the Boyne. Men escaped this way after the battle. A priest helped them burrow through the back of the graveyard. I figured that the tunnel still had to exist. It was after the Battle of the Boyne, you know, that the Catholic populous was displaced—lest they bargained like the lords of Karney! But before their bargaining went on, they helped dozens escape to America.”
“Have you been all the way through here?”
“I wanted to—I came today. But I couldn’t make myself do it. Then we heard the sound again tonight at midnight and I wasn’t going to be a patsy—let them kill the others and come for me!”
“Ah!” Devin said softly. “Well, then, shouldn’t we go on?”
She was answered—but not by Aidan.
A voice rang out from the darkness beyond.
“You need go no further. Alas, my friends, you found what you’re seeking. Fools. Aidan, it was never going to get to you. Or Michael. You should have left well enough alone—you should have stayed in Dublin. And Devin! Sweet American beauty! Ghost-catcher agent! I’m so sorry. Alas, you had to come. Ah, well. You do love history. Now you can be part of it.”
A shot rang out.
Aidan screamed, but not because the shot hit him; it slammed into the rock at his knees, frightfully close.
Devin slammed the flashlight out and grabbed Aidan, wrenching him to his feet.
Another shot ran out and then another.
She ran some distance and then paused, making use of the dead again. She shoved Aidan into one of the shelves, thrusting the bones aside. She felt him shivering, urged him to silence. She fell to the ground as well, sliding into the lowest shelf. Her fingers curled around something.
A thighbone.
It was going to have to do.
She lay still, barely daring to breathe. She waited.
The killer spoke as he walked toward them.
The killer.
The storyteller.
The historian.
Gary the Ghost.
“Come out, come out!” he called. “Don’t you see, it’s only just and fair! I’m the one who knows Karney, knows the castle and the history. And I love Kelly, you see. I’ve loved her since she was just a child. Now, I’m not at all sure, family tales being family tales, but word is that my great-grandmother had an affair and a child was born, my grandmother. The affair, naturally, was
with a Karney. So, you see, I should be in line for the title and the castle as well. All I had to do was get rid of the old men—all seeped in the legends, thank the lord! Collum, such an easy mark. I substituted his digitalis with placebo pills, let out a fierce cry through a cheap, lousy speaker—and voila! All right, well, I do have a wee bit of the theater in me—I dressed up. Ach, so easy! Do it all and just leave nicely without a fuss through the tunnels. Because I know the place. Because it should be mine. And, of course, Kelly—lovely Kelly. She’d have been heartbroken, turning to me for comfort. There you have it. All right and just and…I will find you. I will find you!”
And he would. He was right by them.
He might go straight past them. Just a few more steps…
Aidan sneezed.
And Devin knew that Gary would shoot him without a thought—right where he lay, already in a crypt.
She took her thighbone and planning a careful strategy—she slammed it as hard as she could in the direction of his legs.
He let out a howl of pain and fell to his knees. The gun he held went flying. But he saw her.
In the dim light, he saw her. And his fingers wound around her throat.
She found another weapon…a rib?
Slashing as hard as she could, she turned it on him.
And then, she heard a sound. Footsteps—footsteps racing hard down the path. She saw around Gary, saw enough to realize that something huge and white and filled with vengeance and wraith was bearing down on them.
Rocky.
He ripped Gary from her, throwing him so hard against the opposite wall of shelving for the dead that bones clanked and fell.
Devin rolled from her slab and stumbled up, feeling along the floor for the gun. Her fingers fell upon it.
Just as a foot fell upon her hand.
She looked up.
Siobhan was there.
The woman kicked her hard then, in the face, and sent her rolling.
Rocky had hold of Gary—the storyteller was no match for the honed agent.
“Let him go,” Siobhan said. She triggered on a small light; the vault was illuminated. Devin could see the living and the shadows and the dead.
They were twisted, some covered, some not. Some down to bone. A few in tattered clothing still.
They heard Siobhan click the trigger of the gun.
“Let Gary go—now.”
Rocky did so. They all stared at one another.
“What in God’s name do you have to do with this?” Devin asked.
“What?” Siobhan seemed confused by the question. “Don’t be stupid. I’ll rule the castle—rather than work my buns off at it!”
“No, how could you? Gary means to marry Kelly,” Devin said.
“Don’t be ridiculous,” Siobhan said. “I’ve helped him along. I’ve been up at the pub, slipping down to him what he needed, telling him when it was safe, when it was not. Gary—tell them. It’s me you’ll be marrying when they’re all gone.”
“Of course,” Gary said.
“He’s lying,” Rocky said. “You’re a fool. He’s lying! You can tell.”
“He wouldn’t have lied to me when he intended to kill me,” Devin said flatly.
Siobhan pointed the gun at Gary.
“You’ve played me, man?”
“No!” Gary protested.
Devin felt a cold wind and then a shadow.
“She’s coming!” she said suddenly.
Siobhan turned the gun on her.
“Who’s coming?” she demanded.
“The sheriff is on his way and a host of county police and other agents,” Rocky said. Devin knew he was trying to force her to turn the gun on him.
“And the banshee,” Devin said.
“Don’t be daft, lass, I was the banshee!” Gary said.
“You were the fake banshee, but there’s a real banshee for the Karney family. She’s not evil—she helps with the transition,” Devin said. “And I feel her; she’s coming. She’s behind you—coming this way. Can’t you feel her?”
Gary turned to look back into the darkness.
“There is something, someone, something!” Gary cried. He turned back to Siobhan. “Shoot, shoot, shoot now! Shoot it!” he screamed.
Siobhan took aim. Her hand was starting to tremble.
“Woman, you’re an idiot!” Gary raged, turning to come for her.
But, just as he did, Siobhan managed to fire. She caught Gary dead center in the chest.
The explosion seemed to rattle the bones…
Of the living and the dead.
Gary went down. He stared at Siobhan in disbelief and fell to his knees.
“No!” Siobhan screamed.
Devin saw the darkness coming behind Gary.
Deirdre was there. Her arms went around Gary as he fell the rest of the way to the earth.
“Ah, lad, too greedy, too cruel, and now, you must answer to your Maker,” Deirdre said.
In her beautiful black mourning, she was on her knees, holding Gary. She looked over at Devin. “I knew one of them was leaving this earth tonight; I did not know which—ah, sadly, aye—he is of Karney blood!” she said.
And then, it seemed she was gone.
Rocky instantly rushed Siobhan, wrenching the gun from her. There were more footsteps pounding toward them.
Michael reached them first. “My brother, my brother!” he shouted.
Devin managed to point to the slab where Aidan lay—silent and still.
Michael fell to his knees by the slab. “Oh, Aidan!”
Before he could burst fully into tears, Devin touched his shoulders. “Michael, he’s fine. He just passed out. He’ll be all right.”
Sheriff Murphy and more men were coming.
Devin looked over at Rocky.
He was as covered in tomb dust as she was. She didn’t care. She went into his arms.
He held her there, and then he took her hand, and they walked out into the graveyard and the night.
There might be a darkness come St. Patrick’s Day night, but the Karney family would be alive in good number and for the moment, the moon cast down a magnificent light.
“Idiot, I was terrified that I’d lost you!” Rocky said, shaking.
“I’m pretty dangerous with a thighbone,” she told him.
“You went off alone. You can’t do that. Not because you’re my wife or a woman, but because we all know to call for backup,” he told her.
“I thought it was Aidan. I was afraid I was going to lose him.”
“I was afraid I was going to lose you!”
“But you didn’t and…I’m sorry. I truly have no excuse. But, we found the truth. We’re both here and…did you see her, Rocky? Did you see her—the banshee?”
“I did,” he told her. “She was beautiful.” He smiled. “And I could use a cold one. I don’t think Allen is too busy anymore. I think we cleared the place out, coming up from the crypt and looking like this. But, if he is, I can pour my own. Sheriff Murphy isn’t a bad fellow at all. He has this handled. Shall we?”
Hand in hand, looking as if they were ghosts risen from their graves, they left the graveyard behind.
They didn’t mind the walk.
The moonlight was upon them, like a gentle beacon.
And while they might appear to be part of the realm of the dead, they were alive.
Very much alive.
Epilogue
Nothing stopped St. Patrick’s Day in Ireland.
And so it was that the church service came first, and then the church parade, with Father Flannery bearing the relic said to contain a fragment of the saint’s bone. Then there was music and dancing and a fine flow of spirits and delicious food.
Devin and Rocky found themselves part of the “fool’s” parade that followed, carried in chairs of honor by costumed performers playing the giants of Ireland’s legends.
Kat—who had discovered that Collum’s body bore no trace of the medication he should have been taking
—was pleased to be there simply on vacation.
Will was thrilled to have downtime with the woman he loved.
Brendan had come to during the night—Kelly had told Devin that it was exactly at midnight, when the clock at the castle would have chimed.
When Gary Duffy had set off his “banshee” wail—and made his demon-banshee surprise appearance, wielding a great sword. Brendan would have battled him, he swore fiercely, if his mind hadn’t played tricks. If he hadn’t...fallen to the false banshee. The thing had come at him waving an old battle-ax; he’d gone for his own weapons, felt the wind of the banshees battle ax—swirled and fallen and hit his head, felt a seizure in his chest...
And seen stars.
If they hadn’t come, he was certain, his brother’s killer would not have counted on another heart attack; he would have done Brendan in with the battle-ax. They’d arrived back in just the nick of time.
Brendan was allowed to leave the hospital for an hour of the festivities—time to hear the cheers of love he received from the crowd gathered for St. Patrick’s Day.
And from his family, of course.
He was whisked back, and Kelly, begging their forgiveness, went back with him and her father.
Michael and Aidan played hosts. Aidan explained that his credit card had been stolen in Dublin. Gary had most probably gotten it—and used it quickly to cast suspicion on him when the time was right.
“If he meant for them to die and then he wanted to marry Kelly, he was going to need a scapegoat,” Aidan said.
Devin agreed.
Siobhan wasn’t talking. She had lawyered up.
It was suggested, though, that she was going to use insanity. All she’d done since she’d been arrested was mutter about the banshee that had come for Gary.
Somehow, the day was everything it should have been. Proud, just, and filled with love for Ireland. That night, many people gathered outside the castle walls by the cliff.
Devin stood, smiling, feeling the wind in her hair.
Castle Karney was magnificent.
She could hear Aidan—he was telling visitors about the castle.
It was impossible to attack by sea. The rocks below where they stood were as treacherous and lethal as bullets. The castle itself sat up on a high tor at the edge of the water—landside, attackers could be seen from the parapets before they so much as neared the stone bastion of the outer walls.