“Here, at last, is the one whose curses have bridged the land of the living to shake our rest!”
Katherine trembled, her teeth chattering with terror as the spectral Craigs each stretched out their skeletal hands to grasp her, to tear at her, to pull the life from her.
A strange odor invaded her senses as the rank smell of death leaked from their decayed breaths. Frantically beating on the door, she screamed. Her shrill cry echoed throughout the chamber until she thought her head would burst. An acidic bile formed in her throat, and she gasped for air. Then the phantom clan drifted aside as they made way for their Chieftain, who advanced swinging his claymore, the double-edged blade moving ever closer to her.
* * *
The warmth of the sun teamed with total silence soon had May-Jewel nodding asleep. She had no idea how long she had been alone in the carriage when a voice suddenly awakened her.
“Why Mistress Belwood! What a surprise. Are you waiting for someone?”
It took a moment for May-Jewel to realize that it was the vicar who was speaking to her and to register his words. “I’m waiting for Katherine,” she replied, stifling a yawn. “She wanted to see the Craig family vault.”
David frowned. “But why didn’t she come first to the manse? We have papers and diagrams that we could have shown her to save her the trip to that dank and inhospitable place.”
May-Jewel shrugged, for she couldn’t explain her sister’s bold decision to go unescorted to the vault.
“Come then, we shouldn’t leave her there alone.” He aided May-Jewel down from the carriage and hastily led the way into the cemetery.
* * *
Garth spotted the carriage at the cemetery gates. No one was about. An uneasiness filled him as he approached the manse. He spoke abruptly to the old wizened minister, Earnan Macailean, who slowly answered his knock.
“I’m Garth Craig. I was led to believe that my sisters were here.” He was surprised how easily the word ‘sisters’ came out. “I see their carriage is at the cemetery gate.”
“I n’er seen anyone this day,” Earnan replied. “But have a look. People coom this way now an’ again, some ta pray an’ some ta search their kin.” He stood staring up at the stranger. “Ye be Garth Craig, ye say. I dunna recognize ye. Tis the truth that the Master be dead.” The old man squinted in the sun and walked out of the manse. He saw the anxiousness in the young man’s eyes and added, “No matter. Coom have a look, if ye will.”
The old man led the way through the church and, finding it empty, continued on into the grave yard.
“There be lasses here, ye say?”
“Yes.” Garth grew uncomfortable with the old vicar’s gaze upon him. He wished now that he hadn’t gone seeking Katherine, that he had simply waited for her to return to the manor.
“Oh,” Vicar Macailean replied, his eyes still on the younger man. “I guess I need na’ show ye the way to the vault.”
“No,” Garth answered gruffly, perturbed at the old man’s challenging tone.
The vicar nodded and followed Garth as they started their search of the cemetery grounds. As they neared the grave of Lady Edythe, Garth stopped and bowed his head briefly to pray. He then plucked a flower from a nearby rosebush and placed it on her grave. He stood for a moment longer, this time not to pray but to curse his father. How useless, Mother, a ‘dead’ man cursing a dead man. He looked up to see the vicar’s eyes upon him, so he didn’t linger any longer.
Walking around a row of bushes, the old vicar and Garth almost ran into David and May-Jewel.
“Oh, am I glad to see you,” May-Jewel said as Garth came into view. “We’ve been searching for Katherine. She said she was going to the family vault, but she hasn’t returned.”
Concern for Katherine grew. So, not waiting for introductions, Vicar Hawes rushed on ahead to the vault. He was surprised to see the door closed. If Katherine had indeed entered, wouldn’t she have left the door ajar?
“The door is closed. Perhaps we missed her, and she’s still in the cemetery,” he said as the others drew near.
“No,” May-Jewel insisted, “she said she was coming here and intended to go in.”
“But the door is closed,” Garth repeated.
Everyone became silent, each trying to discern what might have happened to Katherine.
“I don’t like this. Can we go in anyhow just to be sure?” May-Jewel pleaded.
David nodded and then tried to move the bolt, but it wouldn’t budge. “The door’s not sitting right. It seems to be crooked, and I can’t move the thing!”
“If the door be askew when shut,” Earnan offered, “’twill be a chore ta open her now.”
David scowled. “You’re right. We’ll need a lever!”
“Aye!” The old vicar hurried away and quickly returned with an iron rod gotten from the gardener’s shed. He handed it to David, who slid it into the crack under the door and pushed down hard. But the door didn’t move.
Without hesitation, Garth added his weight to the lever. Both men worked, trying to slip the door back into its slot. The grating sound that accompanied this action caused May-Jewel to cover her ears.
* * *
Fear pushed Katherine to the brink of unconsciousness, and she slid to the stone floor. With a pendulous movement, the Chieftain’s sword came closer and closer until the steel cut the very air in front of her.
“Death ta the one that curses the clan Mac na Creige!” The specter lunged as his sword hit just above her head.
The ring of steel against stone
