“Darkness, Evil and Violence?” I asked, translating the Gaelic names.
“That’s right,” Tom said. “And together, the lovely family laid waste to Ireland. How I’ve heard the story told, they were a force to be reckoned with. It took four Tuatha Dé to put an end to their mayhem. The sons were eventually banished from Ireland, and Carman died of a broken heart. Our sire, King Bres is rumored to have buried her in Wexford among the oak trees. If the girl Deri has the slightest grasp on reality, Carman may not just have been real—”
“She may still be alive,” Cate interrupted, a little breathless. “Which means instead of being buried, she was actually imprisoned by Bres. But there’s no record of a daughter.”
“Assuming Deri is correct about this part of her history,” Tom said, “it stands to reason that one of Cailleach’s sons found Carman.”
“Why not release her then?” I asked. “If the man found his way in, surely he knew how to get out.”
Tom tapped a finger on his thigh in thought. “The man and their child perhaps, but not necessarily Carman. Since Bres created the prison, it might take his blood to open it for her.”
“Selah,” Cate said, grabbing my attention. “You mentioned a key. Did Deri give any more clues about what this could be?”
I bit my lip, trying to remember Deri’s exact words, how she had mocked me when I assumed it was an actual key. “Not so much, just that it was found deep in the heart. I thought she meant my heart at the time, but then she skipped off none too worried that the hound had come to kill me.”
Cate studied me intently. “Did she say or do anything else?”
With all eyes upon me, I examined the memory once more. The girl had laughed, then glanced over my shoulder in the direction of Henry’s voice before adding the cryptic part about the heart. This key is found deep in the heart...
I inhaled sharply. “Good gracious! I think she meant Henry.”
Henry started at my side. “You can’t be serious. How could I be the key to a prison set up by your first sire?”
Cate’s gaze never wavered. “Are you sure about this, Selah?”
I thought for a moment, then nodded. “It didn’t make sense at the time, but I’m positive she was speaking of Henry.” Who else was so deep in my heart?
Tom stared at Henry as though attempting to see straight inside his head. “The Fitzalans are an old English line. Any chance some Irish blood was mixed in along the way?”
“The duke told me that Henry’s great grandmother was Irish,” I interjected. “It’s a closely guarded secret. Henry didn’t even know until I told him last night.”
Cate and Tom exchanged a quick look. “How very interesting,” she said. “Did the duke happen to mention a surname?”
I opened my mouth, only to close it again. Yes, he did...the name sat on the tip of my tongue, refusing to budge farther. “O’ something or other,” I said, momentarily defeated by the memory lapse.
Cate laughed, sweet and soft. “The grandson of something or other,” she said. “Not the most distinguished surname, my lord.” She turned to Tom. “Fancy I’ll be paying a call to the duke tomorrow for further investigation. Could be something, or nothing at all.”
Henry’s arm tensed along my shoulder. “This is utter nonsense, as you shall discover once I’ve found the girl.”
Tom leaned forward, his elbows propped on his knees. “Leave her to us, lad. Until we’ve more information regarding your ancestry, you’d best stay as far away as possible from young Deri. She’s already proven a deadly adversary. No sense in letting her prove it yet again at your expense.”
Henry stiffened beside me. “I will do no such thing,” he said, meeting the blacksmith’s intimidating gaze. “The girl will answer for what she did to my footmen.”
Surprise marked Tom’s face. “What do you mean?”
“While we were with Jenny and her uncle, the wretch managed to touch one of my footmen under the guise of needing assistance. He was struck with madness, and shot another footman before turning the sword on himself. By all means, I have just as much claim to the girl as you do.”
“She may kill you,” Tom said, his tone even. “Key or not, she’s shown herself insane and unreliable.”
My hand tightened further on Henry’s knee. “I’ve no fear of a child,” he countered.
“All the same, you are not to be out alone,” Cate said. “If the girl doesn’t worry you, then the hounds you fought certainly should. To be sure, they were up again less than an hour after you struck them down. The wounds may seep for a day or two, but they will soon be back to their usual selves, just in much worse spirits.”