“She’s been here most of her life, as ya know.” Mary looked around the space to show us the small world Brigid has existed in. “And it was not always pleasant, ya see.”
“Did you work here back then? Did you know Brigid early on?” I wondered if Mary cared for Brigid. If they’d been here together for… a while.
“I knew her. We were sent to the laundries ’round the same time. We’ve been here together ever since.” She reached down to straighten her already-smooth apron.
My throat constricted making it impossible to speak. I attempted to swallow the tension only for it to get stuck and squeak as it moved down.
How could Mary be sent to the laundries? “Promiscuity” maybe. It was so unfair. Every girl had the same curiosities about intimacy as every boy, yet they were punished for it.
Paul jumped in. “I’m sure you’ve both got stories to last a lifetime.”
“Ach. We do. And then some.” She looked out to the kitchen garden. “But we have each other now. And a few of the other girls. The ones who couldn’t leave. Didn’t know how to or had no where to go.” She wrung her hands. “Sure, I’m most worried for Brigid. You know, for when they shut us down and drive us out of this place. Might sound funny, but it’s home to us.”
Mary reached for my arm and placed her hand on it.
“She’s out there in the garden waiting for ya. It’s best Paul stay in here for a fine cuppa tea. She’s not all that comfortable ’round men. Hasn’t seen many of ’em in her time here.”
I moved toward the door, looking back at Paul with my eyebrows pulled up in the middle with worry. He nodded for me to go.
“I’ll be here by the window if you need me. Just gimme a holler.” He smiled and turned his attention to Mary.
The two of them would chatter endlessly about Dublin and Bray for starters. Mary had a twinkle in her eye for him.
I walked out onto the main path in the garden and moved through the various sections of vegetables, flowers, and shrubbery. Past the simple topiaries, Brigid sat on a stone bench with her hands folded between her knees, rocking.
She glanced up at me and looked down again, avoiding my eyes.
“It’s okay, Brigid. I’m not surprised you reacted that way. It’s my fault. I said too much too fast. I’m sorry.”
She peered up again like a scolded child, as if making sure I wasn’t angry with her.
“Can I sit with you?” I asked.
She scooched over, leaving plenty of room for me on the bench.
We gazed out at the garden and back toward the house. Paul’s tall form filled the window and moved in animated conversation. I imagined Mary’s big smile and jolly laughs, absorbing every word.
“So, you wanted me to come back?”
I’d let her be the first to mention Grace this time.
“You scared me,” she whispered.
“I know. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to.” I angled my body toward her.
“I’ve seen the pirate queen.” She bit her lips with a small yelp and tightened her fists between her clenched knees.
“I know.” I’d figured that out from Donal’s stories of her visions.
Brigid’s entire body tensed and her head shook back and forth in small twitches. “You’ve seen her too?”
She looked up with one eye, waiting a safe distance for my reply.
“Yes. Many times.” I nodded. “It’s not pleasant. She frightens me.”
“Me too!” Her head picked up and she looked directly at me. “She scares me. Terribly.” Her volume grew louder with each word. “I can’t hide from her. I’m not even safe here. She’s going to get me, you know. She’s going to kill me.”
Her eyes darted around the garden as if Grace were lurking there.
“I thought that too, Brigid. For a long time.” My tone remained steady and calm. “But I think I’ve learned some things about her that will help stop her.”
My wide eyes begged her to believe me.
“Stop her? How?” Brigid’s hands worked the fabric of her pants like dough.
“She wants something. She’s been hunting for it through generations of O’Malley women. I think if I can return it to her, she’ll be able to rest and move out of the in-between.” My head nodded in hopeful acceptance.
Brigid’s brow scrunched together. “What are you talking about?”
“Her ring. The ring of the pirate queen. I think it has the power to reunite her with her lost love. And to stop all of this.” My eyes brightened.
Brigid straightened her spine and became rigid.
“That ring is cursed. I heard it was sent away. Lost forever. Cursed.” She pushed herself farther from me across the bench. “What do you know of the ring?”
“I want to confront her and stop her. With the ring.” I turned to face her. “Then she’ll leave us alone. So we can have normal lives.”
“But she’s not real.” She shook her head and squinted her eyes at me. “They told me she was just in my head. I made her up. And then they sent me away.”
She was teetering on the edge of the bench now, shimmying one inch at a time away from me.
“Why are you here?” Her voice reached a new high pitch.
“You didn’t make her up, Brigid. And you’re not the only O’Malley woman to be stalked by her.”
I thought of my mother and her visions. She never really told me much about them. She hid them, really. But they consumed her.
“She’s real. And you’re not alone.” I pressed my hands into the stone bench, feeling the rough surface grind into my fingertips. “I’ll stop her, okay? Everything will be better. I promise.”
“How?” Her short reply held a child-like tone as her posture curled to pouting. “How can you stop her?” Her head shook in denial. “She’ll kill you.”
I reached into my shirt and found the ring settled into my chest. I pulled it out by the chain and let is twirl freely in the open air.
“With her ring,” I stated.
Brigid jumped away like I’d pulled a venomous snake out and she fell off the bench. She kicked away from me as if being attacked.
“It’s okay, Brigid. It’s not going to hurt you.” My tone remained steady, though a shake was threatening it as my panic rose from her reaction.
“You!” She pointed a shaking finger at me. “It’s you!”
She scrambled to her feet and circled me in surveillance.
“I knew you’d come for me!” Her voice reached shrill.
“Brigid, it’s okay. There’s nothing to….”
“You! Demon! You are her.” Her face grimaced. “You’re her!” Her finger pointed at me, all over.
“What? Who? What are you talking about?”
“The lost daughter! Maeve Grace O’Malley. The lost daughter of the pirate queen. You’ve returned.”
Her shouting reached scream levels and the back of my mind heard the kitchen door burst open.
“You’re a witch! You tried to trick me! To make me join ya. Get out!” Her eyes flashed red with pressure and intensity as spit flew from her mouth. “Get out! Get out!”
Paul grabbed me and pulled me away. Mary wrapped her arms around Brigid and moved her through the garden toward the kitchen door, swinging her arm and pointing around the house for us to leave that way.
Paul held his arm tight around my shoulders and led me around the building, past the blessing hand of Jesus reaching out from the overgrown bushes and around to the front. We raced past the sacred baby grounds and into the safety of the car.
The darkness of night cloaked “the home” and only a few dim lights illuminated some of the windows. I was sure I heard the wailing of a thousand souls. Was it Brigid?
“What the hell was that?” Paul pulled the car around and sent gravel flying in his hasty acceleration.
“Holy crap!” I panted into my hands. “When I showed her the ring, she freaked. Accusing me. Calling me a witch. Trying to get her.” I shook my head to release the images of
her attack. I rubbed my temples. “She called me the lost daughter.”
Paul stopped the car, knocking me forward, then back in my seat, and turned to me.
“What did you say?”
“The lost daughter,” I repeated as I leaned in to watch his expression.
He stared ahead at the road, eyes narrowed as if confused.
“What?” I flinched, then crossed my arms.
I looked over my shoulder, back toward the House of Tears.
He cleared his throat.
“I’m not sure. I need to look into it more, but I’ve heard something about that.” He rubbed the back of his neck and kept his eyes forward.
I dropped my face into my hands and my mouth went dry. So many unanswered questions. Instead of answers, I was only left with more questions.
“Rockfleet. I need to go there.” I spoke through sweaty palms on my face.
Thoughts of Grace O’Malley’s castle loomed in my head. It was nearby and maybe, I don’t know, maybe Grace would be there. I could confront her. Maybe get some answers or somehow just end it all.
Urgency ran through my veins like adrenaline.
“What? Now?” His pitch rose as his body went rigid.
“We’re already halfway there.” The beg in my voice almost whined. “I don’t know. The things Brigid said. I feel like I can’t stop now. Can we just check it out? See if there’s anything there?”
“I don’t know. It’s late.” He glanced at the glowing numbers of the clock on his dash.
He was right. It was late.
But I couldn’t stop now. Brigid had said too much. Knew too much. My head shook in confusion from all her accusations.
My fingers tapped on my knees. “It doesn’t make sense to go home now. Not without answers.”
“Tell me what she said about the lost daughter.” He grew impatient from my scattered thoughts.
“She went nuts when she saw the ring, then she called me the lost daughter. Said I’d come back, like from the dead or something.” My voice went quiet and my head fell.
I leaned my head against the window and melted into the door as I watched the street lights fade in the distance and the dark expanse overtake the view.
“It’s like she thought I was a ghost.” I sank in my seat and closed my eyes, thinking of her insinuations.
She said I’d come for her. Like I was the evil one. Like I was part of her visions. My mind went numb and I focused on my breathing.
Paul’s voice shocked me back.
“There it is.”
He slowed the car and the sound of the gravel road under the tires filled my ears to full volume.
“Stop here,” I said in shock. Stunned we had arrived at all.
I gazed at the dark, brooding castle—a black hole cut in the evening canvas of hills and sea. Its stony walls rose high from its square foundation and the pointed top jabbed into the heavens.
“So you want to tell me why we’re here?” Paul’s voice oozed of impatience. “We’re not going in there, you know. Not in the dark anyway.”
His eyebrows rose as he stared at me and his lips pressed together.
I opened my door and stepped my left leg out. Paul’s hand held my shoulder back.
“Hey.” His hand held firm.
I reached my foot out farther and his grip tightened.
“Hey! What the hell are you doing? You’re not going in there.” His voice cracked as he lost hold of me.
I pulled myself out of the car and looked back at him.
“Okay. I just want to walk over there and look around.” I flashed innocent eyes at him.
Paul left the engine running and the headlights on as he jumped out of the car.
He mumbled under his breath, “Jazus Christ, flippin’ middle a nowhere, feckin’ middle a’ the night… just after gettin’ attacked by yer crazy cousin….”
He came around and took me by my shoulders.
“We can’t go puttin’ ourselves in danger. Ya can’t just go lookin’ fer trouble. We need to plan and use caution. Okay?”
“I know. I’m sorry. But those things she said. She knew things,” I mumbled as I moved closer to the fortress.
I gazed at the castle, steadfast in its foundation. I shrank from it, feeling the strength and permanency of the pirate queen. The thought of her hunting me my entire life terrified me. And what about my own family some day? If I ever had a daughter, she would be doomed too.
“Brigid’s not right in her head. She’s been too long there. Institutionalized. Her mind’s had too much time to play tricks on her.” He shook his head and exhaled. “Terrible shame, really.”
“No. She knew stuff. She called me a demon. And a witch.” I looked to the ground and bit my lip. I walked closer to the castle and Paul stayed by my side. “And she said I was her, the lost daughter. What the hell does that mean?”
“Nothing. She’s delusional.” Paul slowed and reached for my arm. “Hang on.”
I stopped and listened with him.
“What?” My impatience made me fidget.
“This is just a bad idea. I have no idea how I let you talk me into–”
Whoosh! Bam!
A burst of air blasted us right off our feet and we fell back onto the road with a splat. My palms burned from the scratches left by jagged gravel. I rubbed them together and watched Paul pull himself up.
He moved in slow motion and shouted words of caution but his voice trailed off into the night air and morphed into a cool breeze. I watched the sound move across the green expanse and out to sea.
Dark greens, browns, and black swirled around the castle as sounds of an unknown language filled my skull. The language of the ancient Celts. I’d heard it before. Now it whispered to me.
“Méabh.” My name whirled around me and through me. “Méabh Gráinne Ní Mháille, Tá tú taisech. Ceart na héagóracha na céadta bliain.”
The words danced around me with sounds from centuries past. My head dropped back as they blanketed me. Every nerve in my body tingled and sent bolts of energy through me, creating an urge to take action.
I followed the sounds, absorbing them into the depths of my being and allowed them to shape me from within. My bones tightened and became stronger, holding me more solidly upright. My muscles lengthened and twitched as new energy moved through them. My thoughts sorted and a clarity settled my racing mind as my eyes opened wider than ever before.
I turned my head toward the pounding and throbbing. The melted scenery took on cleaner edges and the colors separated, forming defined shapes. The sounds moved from musical to choppy as my eyes focused on Paul.
“Maeve! Maeve! Let’s get out of here! Come on.”
He pulled me but I was stuck solid and couldn’t move with him.
I turned from his tug to look at my other hand. It was clasped around the heavy metal ring of the ominous black door of Rockfleet Castle. Pulled in both directions, my fingers clenched like a vice on the ring.
Words formed in my mouth and I spat them out.
“My hand is stuck!”
I yanked and pulled.
Paul pried each finger open until my hand released the ring.
We raced to the car, blinded by the beaming headlights. It was impossible to know what we were heading into, adding to my disorientation. Was someone there… or something—hiding in the brightness of the lights?
Paul pulled me to his door and shoved me in from his side. I wiggled over the shift and into my seat, peeking out my window expecting to see a ghoul staring in. His door slammed shut and gravel shot out in all directions as he left donuts carved in the dirt and clouds of dust in our wake.
“For the love o’ Christ!” His foot laid heavy on the gas. “God dammit!”
His anger had little effect on me. I knew I shouldn’t have gone there. I knew it was dangerous. But I couldn’t help it. I was drawn there. By something bigger than me.
And they spoke to me. Voices actually spoke to me.
“Something’s happening.” I studied my hands like they were new to my body.
The ancient words cloaked me in new skin.
Paul stared straight out at the road, jaw clenched.
“I’m changing.” I spoke into the night.
Maybe this was what enlightenment was.
My thoughts had moved past my personal identity and took on a higher level of thinking. Beyond myself. Like a floating dream, my mind traveled across the green expanse, searching for my people.
His foot lightened off the gas and the car returned to a steady speed. He turned to me.
“What are you talking about?” His voice carried a curt tone of annoyance.
“They spoke to me.”
He turned his gaze back to the road and floored it.
Chapter Five
Celtic Cross
I dropped down on my favorite bench at the Spanish Arch and searched for insomniac swans, particularly the black one people had been talking about. Paul hovered by the side of the bench, shifting his weight from one foot to the other.
“I just can’t go home yet,” I spoke into the crisp night air. “It’s like my whole world is changing in the span of one night. I feel different.”
It was like I had a new responsibility, not only to myself, but to every O’Malley and the land that was theirs. But I was still powerless in my heart. What authority did I have to do anything about any of this? My mind shifted back to the ring.
It always came back to the ring.
Paul sat down on the edge of the bench with his hands on his knees, looking out toward the water.
“I should get you home.”
My eyebrows pinched together as I looked sideways at him.
“I feel like I could sit here all night,” I prodded to get a reaction.
I watched him more closely. He hadn’t looked at me since the car. And his words trailed out anywhere but at me, as if he were detached or even asleep.
But I felt so awake, more than ever before.
My senses sharpened as I heard distant sounds of car engines, boat horns, and dishes clanging and was surrounded by a complex mixture of scents. I smelled my grandfather’s gardening jacket, my mother’s house sweater, and the inside of Paul’s car.
Inish Clare Page 5
