Inish Clare

by Jennifer Rose McMahon

  The immense size of it started my heart pounding. The gray stones of the back building were stacked one on top of the other, forming solid walls with no windows. I wondered how light could enter the structure.

  What could be inside? So much… or maybe so little.

  At the rear, I found a gothic, gray, wooden door, arched to a point at the top. I snuck a guilty look around to confirm I was alone and gave a half-smile to the garden of gravestones watching my every move.

  I took hold of the rusted handle in the center of the door and pulled for a second before noticing the inner hinges, then pushed.

  The wood squeaked against its solid stone casement. I threw my body weight into it and the door shoved open, throwing a reverberating echo of life through the vast interior.

  My footsteps bounced off the walls as light flooded the entry from the open door. I tiptoed into the hollow deep space, leaving the door open for whatever light it provided. Subtle rays shone through from the front of the abbey, showing me the way.

  Staying close to the side wall, in hopes of not being detected by whoever—or whatever—I noticed frescos of horses and mythical beasts dancing on the walls and the ceiling in the dusty beams of light. It was as if they were celebrating this rare opportunity of life and light in their usually dark and silent world.

  A chill shuddered through me from the cool, damp air inside and I rubbed my hands together. I followed the dusty yellow beams of light coming from the front section of the abbey, walking on the outer edges of my feet to remain silent.

  I held my breath as I stepped into the doorway leading into the front, brighter section of the church.

  As my eyes adjusted to the new level of light, they darted in all directions, straining to take in all the rich architectural detail and historic ornamentation. My wide eyes flew around the room, detecting hidden alcoves and mysterious corners shrouding secrets or protecting ghosts.

  It was like entering an ancient pyramid tomb, where you could tell it was beautiful at one time but now, after the ravages of time, it withered while its secrets became more powerful.

  A clang to my right startled me as I jumped back into the doorway, grabbing onto the edge with a vice-grip, and piqued my senses to full operation. My breath froze along with every muscle. I listened with my entire body and my skin awakened to feel the subtlest vibrations in the air as my eyes darted around the space.

  My head snapped to the right, following another sound before I’d even registered that I heard it. Movement, subtle motion, came from the far side, like someone, or something, was trying to hide.

  The sound of moving fabric and quiet steps filled my ears as I pictured a cloaked beast in my mind, guarding its abbey. My heartbeat rose up my neck and throbbed in my head as my breathing accelerated to near panting.

  My frantic thoughts made it impossible to plan my next move with any confidence. The back door to the outside might be reachable, if I ran fast enough. That was one option. Or I could investigate.

  Determining which option was smarter was proving more challenging than necessary as I remained in my frozen position without even a flinch. I pursed my lips and balled my fists in frustration with my terrified paralysis.

  My feet inched forward before my mind was made up and they carried me deeper into the ornate space. My hearing was muffled by the deafening pounding of my heart. I crept with each footstep barely touching the floor and moved to the edge of the concealed space where the sound had come from.

  I stopped and listened, breathing through pursed lips.

  A bird, I guessed, or hoped.

  Probably a bird trapped in these cold walls, unable to find its way back out a small open window at the top.

  Or a badger. Maybe a badger family called this place home.

  I leaned on the room-dividing wall and rolled my shoulders and head around the corner and peeked around it.

  No sound. Nothing startled.

  So I stepped into the hidden space for a better look and stopped short as a tall, dark form spun around to face me. I jumped back in shock and terror as it stood strong, shoulders squared.

  “Shit!”

  My hand flew to my mouth to stop the curse word from filling the abbey’s holy tranquility.

  I stumbled back to escape from the dark stranger and scrambled to run.

  Who the hell was that? And why was he here, hiding?

  Whatever it was or whoever it was, I would figure that out in the safety of the open air and daylight.

  I flew toward the door leading to the back building, keeping my eyes set on the light that poured in from the safe outdoors.

  The figure followed with heavy steps that ground on the dirt and gravel as he tried to keep up with me. I peered over my shoulder for the stranger, expecting him to be on top of me any second.

  “Maeve!”

  The voice filled the abbey with a command that halted me in my tracks.

  I willed myself to continue my escape from the abbey but I froze, waiting for another word before turning around.

  “Maeve. It’s me.”

  Rory’s voice echoed off the walls and colored them with his lyrical cadence.

  My shoulders remained fixed to my ears.

  What the hell was he doing here?

  It could only be bad.

  My head shook to dispel my negative thoughts.

  But this could only mean he was conspiring against me, trying to derail me.

  My legs crept closer to the Gothic arched door leading outside, seeking safety as if by instinct. Getting outside and away from him was the priority.

  I shouldn’t have trusted Rory. I should have been more suspicious of him all along. He’d given me enough reason to be already, but somehow I’d always forgiven him.

  My teeth ground together as if I were chewing gravel.

  I’d trusted Paul too. And look where that got me. My instincts had misled me too many times, leaving me helpless in my decisions.

  I reached for the edge of the open door and pulled myself toward the lifesaving opening. As I threw myself into the doorway to my freedom, my first step to the outside was halted, mid-air, by a strong hold on my arm.

  I yanked with panic as I tried to break free from Rory’s grip.

  “Maeve. Stop. It’s me.” He loosened his hold. “Jazus. Ya’d think I was a monster or something.”

  I stumbled back in the doorway, feeling the fresh air at my back.

  “Why are you here?” Tears betrayed me and rolled from the outer corners of my eyes.

  My terror at his sudden appearance tore at my core. I’d been so cautious to tell no one I was coming.

  How did he know? He must be here to stop me or worse. There was no other explanation of his presence.

  He stepped back, giving me space to catch my breath.

  “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to frighten ya.” His eyes studied me with worry lines in his forehead. “Do ya think I’m here to harm you?” He tipped his head in disbelief.

  “I… I don’t know anymore.” I wiped at the annoying tears that continued to roll from my eyes.

  “Ah, fer Chrissake, Maeve. Haven’t ya figured out we’re lookin’ for the same damn things?”

  His tone held a slap of anger in it, as if he were insulted.

  He took my chin and made me look at him.

  “Lookin’ for answers, right?” He dropped his head to catch my eyes in his and gazed at me from the hypnotizing depths of his dark blue eyes.

  I exhaled and let my shoulders fall.

  Then embarrassment washed over me and pulled my eyes to the floor in shame.

  “You scared the crap out of me.” I brushed my foot along the stone floor. “I just wasn’t expecting to see anyone. And, well, shit, it’s creepy in here!”

  “No kidding. I wasn’t exactly expecting company either.” He pushed my shoulder. “Your reaction was a little insulting though, I must say. I never had anyone run from the sight of me like that before. I’m really not that bad-lookin’.”
He smirked and got me to smile. “Come on. I want to show you some of the stuff in there. It’s fascinatin’.”

  He held the door open like a well-seasoned host, inviting me to re-enter.

  I looked at the open sky and the safety of my freedom and then looked back into the darkness of the abbey.

  Rory’s inviting expression with raised eyebrows and schoolboy innocence pulled me back in.

  Chapter Fifteen

  Ghost Village

  I trailed behind him at first, through the dark backside of the abbey but once we entered the brighter front end, I broke away from him to inspect the carved features in the walls. Rory stood back, watching me, and leaned near a big front window with one foot lifted behind him.

  A rectangular plaque of carved stone stood out from its mounting in the wall. My fingers reached for it and ran down the face. The relief played every detail in my memory of the O’Maille plaque in Rockfleet Castle, over the grand fireplace in Grace’s chambers, though this one was much larger.

  The crest of the O’Maille Clan.

  I leaned in to inspect the details more closely in the diffused light and then saw it come together clearly. The boar, the galley, and three sets of bows with arrows. My fingers traced the letters of unknown words above the O’Maille name.

  “It’s the O’Malley crest.” My voice ricocheted around the abbey. “Did you see it?”

  I turned to Rory with my hand still on the plaque.

  “Strong by land and sea,” he said back to me, pushing himself from the wall.

  “What?” I cocked my head.

  “The O’Malley clan motto?” His condescending tone suggested this was something everyone knew. “Terra Marique Potens. Strong by land and sea.”

  I looked back at the letters and rubbed them with my fingers. “Oh. I didn’t know that.”

  “Bit o’ learnin’ ta be done, I’d say. Bein’ chieftain and all.” He smirked.

  I stepped back from the crest for a better look at its overall form.

  “So how’s it been for you, so far? Being chieftain.” I turned to him as he gazed at the O’Malley crest.

  His head tipped.

  “I don’t know. It’s a lot, you could say. Ya kinda feel responsible. Not just for the clan now. But for all the clan that came before ya.” He ran his hand through his purposefully messy black hair, brushing it off his forehead. “There’s somethin’ mystical to it, too. I’m still just learnin’ about that part.” He turned to me and his eyes focused in. “But, sure, you know all about that, don’t cha.”

  He eyeballed me with suspicion.

  “A bit.” I pulled my eyes away.

  “A bit? Jazus! You’ve tapped into something the elders only speculate about. Sure, Grace O’Malley herself visits ya. Nearly made me crap myself in Lynch’s, that did.” He laughed at his words but grew silent again as he looked around the ornate space. “And don’t think I’ve forgotten how she tried to kill me at the cliffs of Dun Aengus that time. Seems I’m not one of her favorites.”

  My jaw dropped. I had no idea he’d made the connection that his near-death experience at the cliffs had anything to do with Grace.

  “Ya know,” he continued, “your contact with her sure gives ya a leg up in all this. I mean, I got my clan to keep, and traitors like Fergal adding to my stress there… I could use a little visit from a past chieftain too, ya know. Ya shouldn’t take it so much for granted.” He chuffed.

  My eyebrows scrunched. I’d never considered it like that. He was jealous of my mystical connection to my clan.

  I bit my thumbnail and watched him step away from me.

  My eyes moved along his broad shoulders and down to his narrow waist. His jeans hung at his hip and, as my eyes moved lower, he turned to me. Blush burned my cheeks like I’d been caught in the middle of an illicit daydream.

  “Come see this.” He waved me over to a narrow alcove.

  I looked to the ground and moved toward him, annoyed at how easily he distracted me.

  A high archway with detailed carving all along its edge led into a small room with a thin double window. Old, broken iron railings attempted to close off the area, but they were rusted open.

  We stepped into the recess and our feet crunched on gravel from the crumbling walls.

  Rory broke the thick, still silence.

  “It’s an O’Malley crypt. They say it could be the final resting place of Grace herself.”

  My eyes widened and I wondered if we should even be standing in the sacred space.

  “I don’t know.” I looked around the small inlet of the abbey and lifted my face to the stillness. “It doesn’t feel like it.”

  I walked out of the crypt and back toward a decorative fixture on the wall near the O’Malley crest. Stone carvings framed an indentation in the wall. It was almost like a recessed bench space, maybe six feet wide, where one could sit but with no headroom.

  A dark shadow covered the would-be-seat area and ran up the sides and back by about two feet, as if something large, like a box, was stored there for a very long time and then moved, leaving the mark of its memory behind it.

  “What do you think this is?” I asked Rory as I inspected the fine detail framing the edge of the opening.

  The detailed stonework started at the outer edges of the space and curved into an ornate peak at the top. Circles were cut into the stone designs and repeating patterns of similar shapes ran along the bottom of the space.

  “It looks like something was kept in here.” My hand ran along the length of the depression on the wall.

  “Yeah. Like a coffin.” He blurted out exactly what I was thinking.

  I glared at him as if he were being disrespectful and said, “Come on. Let’s look around outside, in the graveyard.”

  We left the sanctuary of the abbey and I pulled the door tight behind us, knowing in my heart it wouldn’t be my last time exploring it.

  I was tempted to actually crawl into the coffin space and lie there, as creepy as that sounds, but not in front of Rory. Maybe if I had been with Michelle. She’d probably try to jump in first. I chuckled at the thought.

  I walked straight to the monolith.

  Something about it drew me in. It was powerful and knowing, yet held its secrets close—offering no information but the single unknown symbol.

  Was it a guidepost? Or maybe a grave marker.

  “Hey!” Rory’s voice went through me like lightening and I jumped. “There’s supposed to be a ghost village on the other side of the island. Want to find it?”

  His playful tone made me forget why I’d even come.

  I pulled my eyes from the monolith and looked back at Rory.

  His boyish grin was eager for an adventure.

  My eyes widened in response to the temptation and I returned his mischievous smile.

  ***

  We rambled along the lonely road that swung around the outer part of the island. A lone farmer off in the hills or a small pack of sheep added to the postcard-worthy view of rolling green hills that poured into the sparkling navy blue sea.

  “Water?” Rory handed his water bottle to me after taking a big gulp.

  I took it and looked at the opening, knowing his mouth had been on it, and felt like it might be wrong or something. I brought it up to my lips and took a sip as Rory watched me.

  “Thanks.” I wiped the wetness from my bottom lip and looked away.

  As we made our climb over the final rise, the barren, skeletal stone structures came into view. Where the hills met the sea, a line of stony foundations marked the coast. The roofs were gone, along with any furnishings or possessions, leaving only stone walls with open windows and door frames.

  A true ghost town.

  The loneliness was palpable. Where had everyone gone?

  The ancient mystery likely enticed archaeologists to browse the site regularly, searching for clues, always hoping to be the one to make the big discovery.

  We approached the ghost village in silence and p
assed one lonely house at a time, eighty to a hundred of them. Remains of an earlier time, another realm, closed off from the 21st century and all the centuries before that.

  “It’s like its own world. These people knew this place only,” I whispered as we walked through the ruins.

  “Farmers and fishermen, I’d say. A tough life.” Rory’s voice was low and solemn.

  His serious tone brought me back to my original mission. It was time for me to focus again.

  “What are you hoping to find here, Rory?” I stood in my spot. “… exactly?” My head tilted as I watched him develop his response.

  He stepped closer to me, causing my heart rate to increase. Heat filled my cheeks as he entered my personal space.

  “Now, I thought that was quite obvious.” He tipped his head and looked into my eyes.

  His hand reached up and stroked my cheek. He leaned closer and his breath warmed my face and sent shivers through me.

  I froze in the thrill of his closeness. Paul flashed in my mind and I pushed him out. He’d allowed this to happen, forced it even, and now look.

  I imagined Rory’s warm, soft lips moving across my jaw and brushing over my mouth. The wetness on his lips awakening something in me that raged to be set free. My mind swam with the excitement of being so close to him. Being with him would be so easy.

  Then, I jolted back to reality, as if being slapped across the face. I pushed Rory away from me with a hard shove.

  Paul.

  My clan.

  They were my focus and everything I had to fight for.

  Rory’s clever cunning nearly derailed me, and rage coursed through my veins in response. He knew my weakness and went for it, ruthlessly.

  “Keep away from me, Rory. I’m warning you.” I held my hand out to stop him.

  He flashed his sad puppy-dog eyes at me.

  “I’m sorry, Maeve. I can’t help m’self. You make me nuts.”

  He stared at my mouth as he bit his lower lip. He stepped away, running his fingers through his hair in exasperation.

  “It’s just your way of getting to me. To win. For your clan.” I shot dagger eyes at him.