The Fire and the Earth: Glenncailty Castle, Book 2 (10 page)

“Once you pulled down the wall,” Sorcha said, voice low and trembling, “you tore at the brick. You didn’t stop until I went to help you, and told you that we’d take it down, that there wouldn’t be any more secrets.”

Séan didn’t know what to say.

“Then you said…the dead could not rest.”

Séan turned wide eyes on Sorcha. “I was possessed by the ghost.” The words were halting and tasted strange and bitter on his tongue. It couldn’t be true, could it?

Séan struggled to remember, but all he got were foggy impressions of emotion.

“The ghost?” Seamus came up to stand beside him, plasterboard cracking under his feet. “The question is really
which
ghost.”

At his words Séan’s battered hands curled into fists. He didn’t care about the pain as he turned to face Seamus.

“You fool. You know exactly how dangerous this place is, and still you risk their lives.” He motioned to Sorcha. “And for what?”

Seamus met his gaze. “I don’t take risks needlessly.”

“How can you say that? We’d come here today to tell you that you need to close Glenncailty.”

“You had?” Seamus looked to Sorcha, who nodded. “Interesting. I wonder if that’s what brought this on.”

“What are you on about?” Séan wanted to shake the other man. “I told you what I saw, and I’d seen that same tortured woman before, the night a young woman died, falling through this very floor.” Séan pointed at his feet but didn’t look down. He didn’t want the memory of the broken floorboards, the mangled, crushed body.

“If you have a problem with this place, then you’re welcome to leave.”

“I won’t leave until everyone else does.”

“Then we’re delighted to have you in our company.”

“You’re risking the lives of everyone here. Sorcha told me about how the girl, Caera, was almost strangled.”

“Caera is fine, and better than she would have been if the ghost hadn’t helped her understand what she was about to squander.”

“You think the ghosts are helping people,” Sorcha said, her voice tinged with realization. “What good is help when it comes by scaring, hurting and now possessing people?”

“Seamus, you have to close Glenncailty,” Séan said.

“I won’t.”

Séan hadn’t been this angry in a long time. It had also been a long time since he’d gone toe to toe with someone who wouldn’t listen to him. Like his father before him, Séan kept his counsel until he had something to say, and when he did say it, he expected people to listen.

“Mr. Donnovan, perhaps it would be best if you left Glenncailty.” Elizabeth was twisting her hair into a bun as she spoke. “It seems that you have something of an overactive imagination and a strong temper.”

Séan could only stare at her.

“Elizabeth, surely you’re not still pretending the ghosts aren’t real,” Seamus said.

“What happened here was one man losing his temper, going on a destruction spree, and in doing so damaging the wiring on this floor. That’s all it was.”

Sorcha’s hands tightened around Séan’s elbow. His anger melted away under his astonishment. Were they really denying the danger this place posed to everyone here?

“Elizabeth, the Donnovans have been a part of this glen as long as my own family, and Séan would no more destroy something in his anger than he would burn down a church.” Seamus’s tone was almost disgusted. Elizabeth stiffened. “But I won’t close Glenncailty.” He looked at Séan. “There is a time for all things.”

Seamus’s attention shifted to the wall and Séan looked at it too. He’d never seen it before—it had been overgrown with ivy the first time he’d been here, and by the grand opening it had been covered with the false wall that now lay in tatters under his feet. He knew there was a lost room—anyone could tell, just by looking at the maps they gave to guests, which showed a blank space where this room was.

“We will talk about this, later,” Séan told Seamus. “But if I truly was possessed, then I’d like to know why.”

The idea of losing control of himself to someone, or something, terrified him. What if the thing that possessed him hadn’t wanted to destroy an inanimate object, but to hurt someone? He could have done very serious damage. He looked down at Sorcha, whose skin was white in the harsh, bright light and deep shadows.

“You were yourself again after I said we’d take the wall down. So that’s what we’ll do.” Sorcha nodded hard. “We’ll take down the bricks and open the door.”

The lights clicked on.

They looked around at the sconces. The far end of the hall looked fine, as if nothing had happened. Midway down, a layer of plaster dust hinted at the destruction that surrounded them. Elizabeth turned off and started to box up the emergency lights.

“Keep those,” Seamus said. “We’ll need them.”

“You want to open it now?” Elizabeth gestured to the door.

“I think it’s best not to wait. I don’t want them thinking we were lying.”

Elizabeth pressed her lips together. “And by them, you mean…”

“I mean whichever ghost possessed Séan. From what I saw…” Seamus shook his head, then shrugged. “What he was saying and doing is not something I’ve encountered before.”

“So you don’t think it was the maid in chains?” Sorcha asked.

“No, I don’t.”

“How many ghosts are there? I thought I knew about them all.”

“There are more than I care to tell you,” Seamus said.

With that, he stepped up to the bricks and started pulling.

Whatever had possessed Séan must have given him super strength, because the bricks were hard to take out. Sorcha radioed Kristina and Liam, asking them to bring ice and tools respectively. She met them at the top of the stairs, not wanting to expose them to anything.

“Do you need help?” Liam asked.

“I don’t want either of you involved in this,” Sorcha said.

“It was a ghost, wasn’t it? A ghost had him,” Kristina said.

“We’ve made our peace with Glenncailty’s ghosts,” Liam added, kissing his wife’s temple. “We’ll help if you need it.”

“I’m sorry, I’d forgotten.” Liam and Kristina had a run-in of their own with a ghost—they’d been one of the first people to tell Sorcha tales of supernatural happenings. At the time, she’d thought it was a charming story fueled by champagne.

She looked between them, then said, “Kristina, I need you to keep the guests and staff calm. Tell them we’ve had an electrical problem on this floor and that we’re working on it.”

“Yes, Ms. Kerrigan.” She handed Sorcha a bag of ice.

When Kristina disappeared, she waved Liam up. He whistled when he saw the destruction. “Well, you’ve made a fine mess.”

Sorcha laughed, grateful for the moment of levity. “That we have.”

“Where do you need my help?”

Before Sorcha could answer, Seamus did. “We’re taking down these bricks.”

Liam stiffened.

“Liam, we don’t expect you to help with this,” Sorcha said quickly. She didn’t care that she was countermanding an order from the owner—she was terrified of what they’d find behind that door and wouldn’t force Liam to be a part of it. “If you pass us tools and then maybe clear away the worst of the debris, that would be wonderful.”

Liam looked at her, then at Elizabeth, nodding his hello. “I’ll help. Some secrets shouldn’t remain hidden.”

“Thank you.”

Sorcha took the bag of ice to Séan. They’d opened one of the hotel rooms, and Séan was seated on the bed inside. His hands rested on a towel on his lap.

“The ice will help.” She knelt beside him, folding the towel over his hands and then putting the bag of ice on top. He grimaced, but thanked her.

Sorcha wracked her brain for something to say, something that would lighten the mood, but she was strangely empty. They sat in silence, listening to the clack and thunk of the demolition.

“Did I hurt you?” Séan’s voice was low, rough.

“What?”

“When I was…possessed. Did I hurt you?”

“No.”

He closed his eyes, letting out a relieved breath. Sorcha rose to sit beside him.

“You didn’t hurt me. I’m only sorry I couldn’t bring you out of it earlier.”

“I’m trying to remember, but when I think about it, I just feel this rage.” He looked at her. “The one thing I do remember is you—talking to you.”

“There was a moment when I thought you’d come out of it, but then the lights all went out and you said something…”

“What?”

She repositioned the ice on his hands. “You said ‘I’ll bury my dead.’ At least that’s what I thought you said. I was scared and it made it hard to translate.”

“Translate? I was speaking Irish?”

“Yes. Why?”

“I have terrible Irish.”

“Well, then whoever possessed you had good Irish.”

He gave her a half smile. “Did I say anything else?”

“You warned me not to stop you and then, when Elizabeth spoke to you, you asked if she was English and if she’d come to torture you and your family.”

Surprisingly, talking about it made it easier. Now that she was no longer strung out on adrenaline, she could think about what had happened. There were many questions, but few answers.

Séan must have been thinking the same things as her, because he said, “So whatever ghost possessed me suffered at the hands of someone English?”

“That hardly narrows it down.”

“True. And Seamus doesn’t think it was the maid in chains. I wonder why?”

“I’m not saying that women don’t get angry, but you were…enraged. From what I’ve seen and heard, she’s more sad than anything.”

“I’d think she’d be plenty angry at what happened to her, but you’re right, she’s not enraged.” Séan’s brows furrowed. “And the last time I saw her, she warned me away. She didn’t want me in the castle.”

They looked at each other.

“Séan, do you think she was warning you about—”

“We’ve the door clear!”

Sorcha blew out a breath, the fear that had dissipated while they talked returning. “I don’t want to open that door,” she whispered as she took the towel off his hands.

“Neither do I.”

“We’re coming,” Sorcha yelled out. She’d washed Séan’s hands, which were swollen and probably needed stitches. He’d refused to go have them looked at until they were done here. She took the cases off the pillows and used them as makeshift bandages. That and the ice would do for now.

“That will protect them. It’s not much, but…” She tucked the end into a fold, securing the bandage in place.

“Thank you.”

“You’re welcome.”

“Sorcha.” He reached up to touch her face, but with a wince lowered his hand. “Thank you, for making sure I came back.”

A sob caught in her throat. For a few dark moments, Séan had been gone, lost. Not wanting to face her feelings about that, she leaned down and kissed him.

“Sorcha, Séan?” Seamus called.

Sorcha pulled back and Séan stood. Together they made their way out into the hall, ready to look inside Glenncailty’s lost room.

Chapter Six

Of Bones and Blood

Elizabeth and Liam had cleared away much of the debris and stacked the bricks in a neat cube. Elizabeth had taken off her jacket, but her hair was firmly back in its bun. Sorcha could only marvel at her poise.

With the bricks gone, the door was clearly visible. The recess for the door was arch-shaped, as were many of the original doorways, as the arch helped support the weight of the stone. A flat piece of wood had been cut to fit into the top of the arch, making the space the door filled a rectangle. It was a normal enough wood door, though the wood was dark with age and spotted by bits of mortar.

Seamus reached up and brushed the lintel with his fingers, revealing a carved pattern under the dust.

“This door isn’t original. It’s from a later period of the castle,” Seamus said.

“So the door wasn’t walled over five hundred years ago.” Sorcha had always assumed that the door had been covered back before there were any records about the castle. But if the door was from a later period, then it would have been covered over even after that.

“Yes, this is more recent,” Seamus laid his hand on the door. Under the knob was a large keyhole.

“Seamus, do you know what’s back there?”

Elizabeth’s question startled all of them, and they looked from her to Seamus and back again. The master of Glenncailty was full of secrets, but it had never occurred to her that he would know what was there and yet still have covered it over rather than dealing with it during the remodeling. Somehow that was more frightening than thinking that the room was a complete mystery.

“No, I don’t know. I trusted that whoever did this had just cause, and respected their decision.”

“Not to be trouble, but we don’t have a key.” Liam motioned to the door. “How should we get this open?”

Seamus pulled a ring of old keys from his pocket. “I’m hoping it’s one of these. There have always been some keys with no matching locks.” He looked at the lock, then at the ring of keys.