“Well? What are we waiting for? If we don’t move my feet will freeze to the sidewalk.”
With that we all trudged our way through howling wind and pelting snow to the back of Will’s grandmother’s old house where the large cellar doors resided. The angled doors lay hidden beneath a few inches of snow. It was creepy and cold and perfectly miserable as they set to work trying to pick the ancient, frozen lock. I was the lookout but found myself staring at the chipped doors. Below them laid a secret important enough that Mrs. Sayer had hidden it from her family. Shaking myself from the rambling images of spell books or some other ridiculous text, I nearly screamed when Will proclaimed their success.
“Got it!” The wind carried his voice away instantly, making me glad we’d chosen crappy weather to do this. Otherwise we’d have been found out before we made it to the lock.
“Cat, give me the flashlight and you follow behind me. Will, you bring up the rear and make sure you close those doors. It shouldn’t be as cold down here.” Zane took my proffered flashlight and descended the wooden stairs. I watched as the darkness swallowed up the limited light in front of us and held tight to Zane’s coat. Our collective breathing echoed through the small space of the stairwell, creating an eerie sort of anticipation. Will’s hand held fast to my coat, something I was more than happy for and the duffle bag he was carrying bounced on my leg with every other step. Being sandwiched between my best friend and boyfriend made my fear of the unknown a little less scary.
“Okay, I’m at the bottom. Just a few more steps you two and you’ll be here, too.” Zane moved the light across the cellar to see what we were working with. “Will, did you remember the camping lantern?”
“I have it. Hold on.” His search was short but yielded a lantern that lit up the space. I twirled around slowly; taking in the shelves that were likely once filled with miscellaneous items and spotted a small hole in the earthen wall.
“Hey, what’s this?” Without hesitation I walked to the hole, poking around the edges only to see them give way and create a bigger hole. “Okay, this is either some kind of animal hole or I might have accidentally found the hiding place.” Turning around, I motioned for Zane to bring the light closer. “Will, I think you should do the honors.”
His feet shuffled closer, the light from the lantern swaying with his steps. I moved to allow him room to investigate and gladly took the light from him. After a few more pokes he reached into his bag and took out a spade to dig in earnest. Not five minutes later, he had pulled a large metal box from the hole.
“This is it. She mentioned protecting it and I immediately thought of a lock box.” He passed his hands over the cold metal reverently. “Let’s sit down. I’m not sure I want to be standing if I find out I’m adopted or something. Not that it’s a bad thing to be adopted but knowing my family had lied to me for so long would suck.”
Zane and I nodded. Following Will we sat beside him while he opened the box and pulled the cloth wrapped book from the inside. Holding our breath, we watched him pull the green velvet from the face of the book. What lay beneath provoked a loud gasp from all of us. A large, blue, lapis lazuli S was set into a thick, brown leather cover that was bordered with a swirling vine pattern. In short, it was beautiful and exuded old age, just as my own family book did.
“Do you want to open it now or do you want to wait?” I asked.
“Now.” Will opened the cover, gently setting the book against his bent knees. There on the page laid the most vibrant illustration of a family tree. Its branches were labeled with name after name but one stuck out from the rest.
“Huh.” Will made a small noise and traced the name I’d noticed with his finger. On the opposite page of Will’s family laid a name I was all too familiar with: Zane Michael Laroche.
Caomhnóir: Keevnór…protector
Badbeh: Bahd-beh…soulless demons
Mo cara: Mo car-a…my friend
Without the unfailing support and love of my family, A Banshee’s Tale would not have been possible. Writing, while mostly a stationary dedication, is one of patience and solitude but when you have a family of three active daughters, as well as a traveling husband that task can seem insurmountable. Their ability to rise above and give me the time I needed was, without a doubt, the most amazing gift of my writing experience.
I would be remiss in not thanking the extras in my life who have offered support and more on my journey as well. My sister and muse, Cassie Woody, listened to some pretty crazy ideas and helped me flesh out the “who, what, when, and where”. She was by a trio of wonderful women and friends. Susan Lynn offered continued hand holding via long distance and made sure to keep me on the straight and narrow while also keeping me in stitches. Comedy is the cure to anything that ails and she did a fabulous job of keeping me sane. Brenda Whelan, my Irish connection, amazed me with her knowledge of Irish myth and proper pronunciation of all things Gaelic. I owe her my undying gratitude for bringing the ideas in my book to life for me. It made the experience all the more phenomenal. Finally, my thanks to Christina Lacy, who has been my impromptu grammar gal for ages and a fervent supporter of my story since I met her. She’s more than a little special.
My gratitude would not be complete without also mentioning my extended family. In particular, my mother, grandmother, and aunt. All three women have been driving forces in my life and this was no exception. Their passion for our ancestry was passed to me and this book is a direct reflection on my love for all things Celtic and Irish specifically. I hope they can be as proud of this as I am.
Last, but not least, my father and uncle deserve a well-earned pat on the back for simply being able to keep up with my crazy.
I’m extraordinarily thankful to have them all.
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