Twenty-Eight

F

inn wanted to walk me back to my hostel, and he wrapped his arm around my shoulder as we strolled. We came to a bridge over the river Liffey, and I got momentarily lost in the sight of it. I was in Ireland! Bronze seahorses reared under the bridge lampposts. The city lights glowed on the river’s flat, wide surface like gold wax dripping into the water. I gawked and swiveled my head, relishing the sights of Dublin at night, disbelieving that I was actually there.

The journal in my bag waited like a bomb, ticking off the minutes. I was eager to get back to the small room, crawl into bed, and read it. Was it too much to hope that it might lead me to my mother?

Faye’s words about people wanting to find someone like me played over and over in my mind. So did the strange man’s yearning eyes and haunting threats. His white aura had already hooked mine, and I never wanted to experience that again. I hoped the journal would tell me more about myself, tell me about people with white auras, maybe how to protect myself so I didn’t become one of the vanished.

As soon as we crossed the bridge, something familiar caught my eye. “That’s the church where my parents were married.”

“No shite?”

“I recognize it from the postcard in my mother’s things. C’mon,” I said, slipping my hand from his. I started for the intersection. A horn blared. Finn reeled me back by my elbow.

“Mind your step. You were looking the wrong way, luv. We drive on the opposite side of the road here.” We crossed the street and descended the stone steps leading to the front of Christ Church. A bush with bright yellow flowers glowed in the moonlight in front of the large Gothic structure.

“This place is like something out of a storybook,” I said, craning my head to see the peaked roofs, medieval turrets, and arched windows of the ancient gray stone building.

“It’s a grand old place,” Finn said. “One of the oldest buildings in Dublin, I reckon.”

“I’ve got to see inside,” I said, pulling on the handles of the huge wooden door, overcome with the need to see the place where my parents vowed to love each other until death claimed them.

The door didn’t budge. “Past hours, I’m sure. Tell you what, we’ll come back. I’ve got to work all day tomorrow. I tried to get out of it, but Clancy needs me to mind the pub while he looks into a new distillery.”

“No problem. I’m a big girl. I can do a little sightseeing on my own. I briefly saw something in my mother’s notes about Newgrange. I still can’t believe I’ll get to see it with my own eyes. I’ve dreamed forever about going there.”

“It’s impressive,” Finn said. “And not far from my house. No one knows for sure who built it. There’s much mystery and speculation about the place, makes me curious about your mum’s interest with it.”

“She seemed to have a lot of interesting ideas.” I’d told him that she was researching something here in Ireland, that she was worried about me and my dad, that she disappeared, but I stopped short of the absolute truth.

“Ideas such as?” he asked. “And are you saying she disappeared because of whatever she was researching?”

I chewed on the tip of my thumb, trying to decide how to answer. “She thought she was on the verge of discovering something about humanity, something that would upset what we think we know about ourselves. Something that someone wanted to keep a secret.”

His head jerked up. “That’s a mighty notion, all right.”

“I know. What could be so important that she’d keep looking into it even if she knew she was in danger?”

Finn blew out a big breath and wrapped his arm around my shoulder again. His apparent uneasiness fueled my own. “Makes me worried for you. She disappeared, luv. You said her parents did, too? That’s not a coincidence. Maybe her work is something you ought not to be poking around in. Maybe,” he said, gazing skyward and blowing out a big breath, “if it means your safety, then some secrets are better left buried.”

“I have to poke around. I need to know what happened to her.” I found myself thinking of Giovanni losing both his parents as a young boy and wondered how old my mom was when her parents disappeared. “Who’d want to hurt my mom to hide whatever truth she was uncovering?”

“Depends entirely on what that truth was. Conspiracies against knowledge…,” muttered Finn. “It’s ridiculous. I guess it’s easy to speak of keeping secrets buried forever when it’s you I’m worried about. Easier to think of someone anonymous, somewhere out there in the world, doing the uncovering.” He paused, deep in thought. “There’s something very brave about people like your mother and”—he touched my face—“like you, Cora. I mean, how can mankind evolve if we aren’t searchers of truth?”

“My dad would actually like you right now if he heard you say that,” I teased. My aura flashed with infinite love toward him. He thought my mother was brave. He thought I was brave.

Finn walked with a purposeful gait, his eyes focused on the sidewalk in front of him. I continued talking out my theories.

“The world is full of powerful organizations, religions, that all need us to swallow their existing beliefs about humanity in order to keep their machines running. I don’t think they’d let go of that power lightly. Look at how the church threatened Galileo after he suggested that the sun, not the earth, was the center of our solar system.”

Finn said nothing. I wondered if he’d even heard me. His aura, which was usually so generous, was reined in tight to his body. I slipped my hand over his on my shoulder. “You okay?”

“Aye. Just thinking maybe the world would be a more beautiful place if we didn’t have so many secrets. If we could share the truth of who we are with each other.” He smiled apologetically.

“You’ve got a beautiful soul, Finn Doyle.” I wished I could tell him how beautiful. His aura expanded around him a bit, puffing up with the compliment. But I noticed he still held a ball of quivering yellow in front of his solar plexus, and I wished I could peel back the layers and know what he protected. I laid my hand on his arm. “Really, Finn, is something wrong?”

“Can’t you wait to go to Brú na Bóinne until I can go with you?” he asked, concern pursing his full lips into a thin line.

“I don’t know how many days I’ll have before my dad comes looking for me. He could be on his way now. I don’t want to waste a day.”

“Right, but be careful. At least let me pick you up after. I’ll be at the visitor center around five? We’ll get a bite?”

“Deal. And don’t worry. I’ll be okay. It’s a big tourist attraction with lots of people, and I befriended a fellow traveler who wants to go, too. I’m sure we’ll be fine.”