Chapter 4: fin: free as the birds

"Foul morning," the young lad commented as he approached the edge of the cliff. Below, he could see the flutter of the police as they ushered the curious and horrified villagers away. It was a bitter dawn, but nothing deterred the gulls from croaking above their heads as they circled the coast. "How long's she been down there, you reckon?"

"Two days approximately," came the sombre response from the constable.

"Sad."

"Bit of a strange one though," the constable began to gossip, unable to help himself. After all, he'd been up here guarding the cottage alone all morning with only his thoughts and speculations for company. "Body ain't got no blood. Only been two days. Seems she inherited the old Geadais Cottage." He tilted his head back towards the direction of the abandoned house. He inhaled sharply through his nostrils as he stopped himself. The villager didn't need to know about the strange cellar and the empty coffin they'd discovered. No, the policeman thought, it's an open and shut case. She fell from the cliff, probably bled out on the rocks and the surf had washed it away.

He'd find out later that day that the coroner was puzzled by two small puncture wounds in her neck. Just like the ones that had been found on Maude MacNeill at the foot of that same cliff in 1932 before she'd been given a quick burial somewhere on the island and the then-police had been warned to forget about it. That warning had come directly from the Vatican.

You see, Uncle Francis Scott was led to Geadais Cottage by the stories of vampire sightings. His work as an archaeologist was merely a front for his dark, clandestine work as an exorcist. His true intention had been to purify the tiny island of the unholy energy that lingered from primeval sources and to do that, he needed to capture the demon known as baobhan sith.

He had succeeded, for some time, until now. Trusting his only surviving family member to follow in the family's traditions of religious devotion, he'd believed she would be sensible enough to leave the crypt well alone. Years in isolation had made the old man too trusting of his own estranged flesh and blood.

Unfortunately, in Maggie Scott's great desire for freedom, baobhan sith was also free once more.

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