Once they reached the main floor, he didn’t need Edmund’s guidance. He turned toward his grandfather’s sitting room.
Lord Donnelly followed, but Griffin whirled around and stopped him. “Kindly leave our castle. The Heart of Brigid is not here. Don’t you have a cup or cauldron you needto find?”
Edmund paled and put a hand over his chest like it had suddenly tightened. He looked pained as he said, “Five years in a dank prison. Always chasing that cup. It’s as slippery as the salmon of knowledge. At least your heart is gained by love.”
“And a huge dose of luck,” Griffin said. “Lucky like the Irish.”
“Which is both bad and good.” Donnelly laughed. “Fare theewell, my friend.”
Still chuckling, he strode toward the front door. The doorman opened it for him, and he let himself out.
Griffin knocked on his grandfather’s door and entered to find him hearty and hale, sitting on a plush, leather chair near a bookcase.
“Tell me, my grandson. Did you restore Ireland today? Was the Heart of Brigid bright and shining on the bosom of yourbeloved? I saw it all in a dream.”
“Maybe so. It was all a dream.” He took the fake, quartz-version out of his pocket and placed it on the table.
His grandfather stared at it and shook his head sadly. “No luck like love?”
“No luck. Only faith.” He hugged his grandfather. “I need to recreate all my memories.”
“Me too, especially since Pierce has gone and taken all ofour annals and notebooks.”
“We won’t need them,” Griffin said. “All we need is love and faith. And a little woman named Clare. I know it.”
“I wish you luck.” Grandpa reached over to his bookcase and removed a box. It was a two-thousand-piece puzzle of a colorful fairy city on a craggy green seaside cliff. He gave it to Griffin and leaned back in his wing-backed chair.
“Youwant me to play with this puzzle?” Griffin asked, shaking the box.
“It’ll help you remember your true love. I had a woman once, too. Your dear sweet grandmother…” His voice trailed off. He closed his hand around the quartz replica of the Heart of Brigid. His eyes rolled down, and he breathed deeply. In a matter of seconds, a snore rolled from his throat.
“Sweet dreams, Grandpa,”Griffin said, blinking sadly at the older man cradling the fake treasure.
Taking the puzzle box, he let himself out and headed for his hole in the ground retreat. Before leaving the castle, he plugged the mobile phone into a charger.
It had something to do with Clare.
He knew it, and he believed it.
