Ireland 1536
Killian glanced uncertainly toward his companion as they neared the churchyard. Although he was not one given to fearfulness or dread upon entering a graveyard after dark, as many people were inclined to be, he had to admit the way the long shadows fell upon the many broken and uneven grave markers this night, left his heart racing. The wind seemed to howl unnaturally through the nearby grove where they’d tethered the horses. The cemetery was overgrown and nearly concealed by the huge oaks. Though he’d lived in the area for over a decade, he’d not even been aware of its existence. As he pushed open what remained of the large, decrepitly twisted gate, it creaked loudly and added to the eeriness of the situation. He attempted to ignore the fact the hairs on his neck were standing on end.
Danhoul appeared unaffected and intent in keeping his eyes focused on the young spirit woman ahead of them. They had lost sight of her may times as she appeared and disappeared at will. At present she was but a hazy specter, barely visible in the limited moonlight. They had been following her for what seemed to be hours. Killian had considered more than once that perhaps she was taking them on a fool’s chase, but he clutched tightly to the sprig of thyme within his hand. Old Morag had instructed the spirit to give this to him as a sign of assurance she could be trusted. He needed to believe it to be truth even though he was well aware Morag’s body was not buried here in this churchyard.
“Why would she lead us here when Morag does not lie at rest in this location?” he whispered, finally voicing his dubiousness.
“Sure I cannot answer that as of yet, but there is most certainly a reason why she has ensured we are here,” Danhoul replied.
“And your abilities of second sight cannot assist you in this?” Killian whispered once more.
“As you may have observed in instances with your wife, clairvoyance is not always precise, especially when dealing with supernatural beings.”
Killian smiled and thought how odd it was that they were discussing this subject as though it were as commonplace as speaking of the weather.
Finally they heard a bemused feminine voice before them as the female specter spoke. “Why is it the two of you grown men whisper here within the gravestones, ’tis not as though you’ll waken anyone who rests here!”
“Could you explain to us why we are here in this long forgotten churchyard when ’tis not anywhere near Morag’s grave?” Killian asked ignoring her humorous comment.
The young woman’s silhouette began to take solid form again now that they were not moving. As Killian looked at her, he once more noted her unusual blue eyes and how similar they were to Alainn’s distinctly beautiful eyes. His heart felt heavy with concern for his new bride, with not knowing if she was truly being protected after being taken away by the Celtic goddess, Aine.
“My mother would see no harm come to your wife, Killian O’Brien! Sure, it is best she is not here at this time.”
Nodding to the spirit woman, his face registered his doubts on that count.
“It would appear I am at a disadvantage, being the only one who does not lay claim to the gift of hearing people’s thoughts.” Killian’s sarcasm was evident.
“Why did you bring us here?” Danhoul asked this time, since the spirit had yet to answer Killian’s previous query. “Why are we not at the old healer’s grave if she has employed you to take us to her?”
“The portal to the spirit world nearest Morag’s grave is watched closely by dark entities. They are preventing her from making contact with Alainn. They will use all methods of evil to make certain Morag is silenced. Anyone, human or spirit, who attempts to assist her will be in grave peril, I fear! ’Tis why I searched for such a lengthy time to find an abandoned churchyard, one no longer remembered or frequented by humans from this world for perhaps two centuries or more.”
“Are you not in danger as well, then?” Killian dared to ask the spirit woman.
“Aye, it could be so, but I am not as vulnerable as many for I have carried my magical abilities with me to the beyond. You are a chivalrous sort to fear for me, young O’Brien.” She smiled at his concern for her.
“So, we are to enter the spirit world then?” Killian continued without acknowledging her comment.
“Nay, ’tis not advised, but as a last resort it may be so.” The spirit spoke on, “Morag has made many attempts to return to the world of the living. She was set upon being present at your recent marriage; she managed to materialize for mere moments, but the dark spirits would not allow her to draw near to Alainn. I will attempt to summon Morag, for perhaps she can make contact with us now that your new wife is no longer in this realm.”
The young spirit woman moved to the center of the graveyard, floating wispily just above the ground. Her long flowing skirts skimmed lightly over the toppled grave markers and she stopped before a particular stone. She spoke in a language Killian did not recognize in a voice that unnerved him. His green eyes filled with wonder as the stone began to move. His eyes grew wider and he glanced at Danhoul, again in hopes the other man would offer some explanation of what was transpiring.
“ ’Tis the grave of Morag’s ancient ancestor, one unknown even to the old healer herself until after her death. Perhaps she will be capable of appearing here or sending her message through another spirit at this location.” The spectral woman informed them.
Both men watched on with trepidation as the stone moved, the ground rumbled, and the remnants of what surely was once a wooden coffin were cast aside. They waited to see what form of creature might spring forth from the open grave. Ainna, the spectral woman who was Alainn’s maternal grandmother stood watching as well. Killian crossed himself and prayed it would be the old healer who would reveal herself to them. They all appeared taken aback when, instead of the skeletal wraith they might have expected to emerge from the grave, the large imposing figure of the recently murdered Ramla, loomed before them. His life had been ended while attempting to assist Alainn. He now appeared as he did in life, wearing the same garments as when he’d been killed, still stained with his blood.
“The old healer cannot come to you at this time—she is imprisoned by those with dark alliances. She has sent me with a warning for you to stay distanced from all portals to the spirit world, for you would surely meet much harm. You must leave now and make haste!”
“Sure there must be something more we can do!” Killian insisted. “Can Morag not simply inform you of the important message she had hoped to convey to us, regarding the proof of Alainn’s paternity?”
“There is no time; you must leave this place at once!” Ramla’s voice grew louder and more insistent.
“But...” Killian stopped his protest mid-sentence and stared around him. He saw that Danhoul was doing the same. Soon all the grave markers began to shake and become unturned. Many of the stones and large crosses toppled against others and crumbled as they loudly smashed together. Ainna, the spirit woman’s regretful expression was quickly replaced by one of fear as she began to turn to mist.
“If and when I am permitted, I shall return to assist you,” she whispered to the two men as she faded away before their eyes.
“Go now!” Ramla warned once more. “Before you are unable.”
Danhoul roughly grabbed Killian’s arm and pushed him toward the gate as nearby the horses whinnied and reared wildly. Wolf, the Irish wolfhound who was with them, had stopped short and refused to enter the churchyard, but now he howled in a ghastly unnatural tone.
Danhoul’s eyes grew wider and filled with unhidden fear as he glanced back at where they’d been standing. The ground had opened up and swallowed the entire graveyard. The grave markers, the earth, grass, bushes, and trees all fell into the depths. Killian and Danhoul made it through the gate just as it was being dragged beneath the ground as well. Wolf barked and snarled, baring his teeth at what Killian could not see. The sounds behind them were clearly not human and likened to the sounds he’d heard when entering the fairy realm when passing through the Unseelie Court. He could only imagine what demons, devils, and unsettled spirits were at their heels.
They reached the horses as the wind grew stronger and the rain began to fall. They mounted looking back. Killian was relieved to see Wolf racing alongside them. He was almost certain he could feel ghostly fingers clawing at his back. By the grimace on Danhoul’s face, it appeared he was experiencing the same unearthly sensation. They did not need to coax the horses to plunge forward at an unusual speed for, they, too, seemed well aware they were running for their lives.