“Indeed, lass, aye, of course!” the priest said. He was a man in his mid-forties, Rocky thought, lean and tall, with sparkling blue eyes and sandy hair. His smile seemed sincere—as did his expression as his smile faded and he said, “I’m so sorry you’ve come at troubled times for the family, but, glad indeed that you’re here for them at such a time.” He turned to Rocky. “And, you, sir, are Mr. Craig Rockwell, husband to our Devin.”
“I am,” Rocky said.
“Truly, we’re so pleased that you’re both here,” Father Flannery said.
“It’s a loving family,” Devin said. “I’m glad to be here.”
“What do you think, Father Flannery?” Rocky asked. “There’s talk of banshees coming for all the Karney family.”
“I’m a priest, young man. What do you think I think?” Flannery asked him, shaking his head. “I’m from County Cork and believe me, we have our tales there as well. We’ve created some of the world’s finest writers and storytellers—all because it’s nearly impossible here to grow up without learning about the Little People and our races of giants and, of course—our banshees.”
“So—”
“I think poor Collum was taken at the time our great Father above decreed, and that’s the way of life,” Father Flannery said.
“A heart attack—plain and simple?” Rocky said dryly.
Father Flannery sighed. “Brendan is just not convinced his brother died of natural causes. They were friends as well as brothers. Imagine a family where those not first in line for an inheritance don’t seem to give a whit—and just help out? Brendan can’t deal with the loss, and I’ve done my best to counsel him. That’s a reason many of us are so glad that you’re here—some American reason into the mix!”
“Well, thank you,” Rocky told him.
“Have you visited your uncle’s grave?” Flannery asked Devin.
She glanced at Rocky before answering. Collum hadn’t really been her uncle.
“No, I haven’t,” Devin said.
“Come, I’ll take you out,” Flannery told them.
They left the church by a rear door, heading along a stone path into the vast field of tombs and gravestones.
There were modern markers in bronze and granite, ancient stone cairns, mausoleums and vaults. Rocky realized that Devin did know where they were going and that they were headed through the maze of memorials of the dead toward the far, westward edge and a vault built into a rise of rolling land.
A chain of keys dangled from a belt at his robe and he opened the massive iron gate to allow them entry into the vault.
Rocky wasn’t sure what he was expecting—perhaps shrouded corpses decaying upon dust-laden shelves.
But that wasn’t the case. Fine marble covered all the graves. There were two large sarcophagi in the center of the tomb. Rocky quickly saw that they belonged to the Karney couple of myth and legend, Brianna and her beloved husband Declan, he who had throne himself at the enemy Sir Barry Martin in order to see that he died as his wife had.
“Collum is here,” Father Flannery said quietly, pointing to the side of the vault.
Cement covered the grave; a tombstone bearing his name had not yet been installed. But flowers strew the floor on the ground there and filled many vases set there as well. As he watched, Devin made the sign of the cross and lowered her head as if saying a little prayer for her uncle.
Devin had grown up Catholic—but she’d also spent a great deal of time with her beloved Wiccan aunt in Salem. She was a spiritual person, a believer—they all were, more or less, in the Krewe. But he knew that she believed in one true tenet, and that was the fact that in her mind, all good men and women believed in decency and kindness and that religion didn’t matter. Yet, here, of course, she honored her uncle as he should have traditionally been honored.
He lowered his own head. Father Flannery softly murmured a prayer.
Something caused Rocky to look up—to look over at his wife.
Her head was no longer bowed in prayer. She was staring wide-eyed and frowning at the back of the vault. She stood frozen and straight, and he was certain that she saw something there.
Something that did not belong.
He strained to see through the shadows.
“Ah, and as the sayin’ goes, Collum,” Father Flannery murmured, “‘may ye have been in Heaven a half hour afore the Devil ever knew ye were dead!’ I know that to be true, for you were a fine man, my friend!”
“Sorry, I am a man of God. But I am from County Cork,” Flannery added, perhaps believing that Rocky’s curious expression was for him.
Devin spun around. “Of course. He was a very fine man,” she said.
She turned and walked out of the vault.
Rocky stared into the darkness at the far reaches of the large family tomb. But all he saw was darkness. He followed his wife into the light of the day.
Chapter 6
They were heading out of the cemetery and up the great slope that led to the castle walls, with Father Flannery far behind them, when Rocky asked Devin, “What happened back there.”
“Rocky, I don’t know!” Devin told him, her beautiful blue eyes meeting his with concern. “There was something there—some kind of a presence.”