She wiped the disgusting thoughts from her mind. She was not the spawn of a rapist, or was she? Was everyone alivedescended from at least one murderer, one rapist, and one traitor?
If so, she had to put an end to this misery—the invasion which had driven the Tuatha Dé Danann down into the Otherworld.
She could do it.
Had she been transported back to the twelfth century? Was this why the bones looked so new? The skeleton so well-preserved?
There was only one thing to do.
Clare unpeeled the rest of the bedspread from the skeleton. She took the Heart of Brigid from the chain around the skeleton’s neck.
She had to save herself, but a part of her was curious. Would Brigid actually come back if she placed her heart inside her ribcage?
Gritting her teeth, she slipped the rough diamond between the ribs of the skeleton. Chills crept up her fingers from touchingthe dead bones, and she waited with bated breath.
Would Brigid rise up? If so, should she greet her or prostrate herself to worship the queen?
Seconds ticked by, but the silence was only broken by the pounding of Clare’s heart and the swish of her breath. Maybe the Heart of Brigid was not enough. Well, duh, they needed her flesh and blood.
Sticking her hand back into the ribcage,she took it back and reattached it to the chain. She might as well keep the powerful piece of magic, for now. It was useless anyway, since she wasn’t about to provide fresh blood to test the theory in the Green Notebook.
Since this magic, bunkum, or hooey wasn’t working, she might as well up her chances of survival. To do that, she had to distract the enemy and catch whoever would enterthe chamber next off guard.
She removed her veil and tiara and placed it on the skeleton’s skull.
Griffin got out of the rideshare and tapped Clare’s phone to pay. He glanced at the turrets of his castle. The lights were on in his room, but no servants greeted him or offered to carry his luggage.
The dark purplish sky was giving way in the east to the morning light, and the sky around the dewy castle was gray and still. No wind or rain. It was hearkening to be aclear first day of spring.
Was he too late? Dawn was around the corner, and the fact no one was at the gate meant all the servants were busy. Someone had used his Rolls Royce to kidnap Clare, and Pierce would have known about it since he knew everything.
Griffin had to assume Pierce was a traitor, so he grabbed Clare’s Morrigan costume and dashed around the castle to the side door.
Loud voices and shouting echoed through the servant’s entrance. Griffin ducked behind a butler’s pantry to let them pass.
Hulda, the security guard, barreled around the corner, barking at two kitchen maids. “I’m telling you, she had a seizure, and I had to lock her in the bedchamber. The boss isn’t going to like this. You two have to go in there and redo her makeup.”
“We’renot going anywhere near that tunnel,” one of the kitchen maids said. “She doesn’t have to look pretty, and the dress will be ruined anyway.”
“He’s only going to cut her heart out,” the other one said.
“I got off a shot, but she could be a bloody mess,” Hulda said. “You two have to go in there and clean her up. We don’t have much time before the sun rises. The bridegroom is on hisway to the bedchamber.”
“Who? That O’Fool character?” the first kitchen maid scoffed. “I’m still betting on Griffin getting back in time.”
“There’s no Griffin,” the second one said. “Pierce locked Duke Gallagher up in his room and said the young one is missing. Seamus is getting dressed and sharpening the knife.”
“Then it’s too late,” Hulda said. “Quick, we must get dressedfor the return to the twelfth century.”
The three sets of footsteps passed through the galley.
As soon as they were out of sight, Griffin dashed up the servant’s stairway toward his room. While the castle itself was laid out with multiple hallways and large corridors full of paintings, the servant’s passageways were the quickest, most direct way to get from one place to the other.
Griffin had explored the maze of tunnels and corridors to his heart’s content as a boy. Even though he barely remembered anything, he had to trust the knowledge would come to him, moment by moment.
He cut through one between two walls and ascended a set of spiral stairs, then opened a trapdoor behind the bookshelf and descended a ladder into the storerooms.
From there, he navigatedbetween rows of wine casks to a hidden doorway behind a blind alley.
