“I did ask, my lady. He said it’s locked in a chest at St. Olcan’s, along with all the most precious manuscripts in the collection. This particular document is written in a strange tongue and will be difficult to translate. Master Flannan is not sure of the meaning. But he said it does seem to relate to the tower.”

What could she say? Senach knew her mind. If she ordered Master Flannan’s immediate removal from Bann, he would ensure it happened, one way or another. If she required that the removal be permanent, that too would be attended to without question. She could not ask her folk to steal and destroy the document; it was in the possession of the monastery. Young Lily, Lily-before, might have believed the Christian God stretched a hand over the brethren, shielding them from harm. Geiléis put no credence in gods of any kind. But Father Tomas had been kind to her. He had been generous, and she had come to rely on him, as she had on his predecessors. If not for their protection, she’d likely have been thrown off her land long ago, one way or another. It would make choice pickings for the Tirconnell chieftains.

And it wasn’t only that. Blackthorn was astute. If Blackthorn got suspicious—and what more likely to arouse suspicion than a raid on the monastery and the disappearance of the very document they all wanted to know about?—then Geiléis might lose her chance to break the curse. Likewise, Blackthorn would most certainly ask questions if her friend the scholar suddenly vanished on the brink of sharing his great find.

“I’ll come and speak to them,” she said. “I’ll need you to be present, Senach. Watch them closely. I cannot imagine what this document is. Perhaps it is harmless. Perhaps Master Flannan is wrong about its contents. I do not see how a written record could exist. Nobody knows. Except for us, and the little folk . . . Could they have told? Would they dare?”

“That seems unlikely, my lady. They are bound by the curse, as we are.”

“Even so . . . it may be necessary to remind them. I will speak to Onchú. In the unlikely event that Master Flannan is right about the document, we must keep its contents from Blackthorn. Should she learn the full story before midsummer, our precious chance is lost. That cannot be allowed to happen.”

“I understand, my lady.”

24

Blackthorn

Dusk had fallen before we got back to Geiléis’s house. Overall, the outing had been a success. Onchú and Rian had escorted me to a spot that was just as Geiléis had described it: level, grassy and well sheltered yet allowing a good view of the tower. It might not be perfect for a ritual, but it would serve well enough. The two guards had offered to take me out to the nearest settlement tomorrow to spread the word, if I was up to another ride. Between the throbbing headache and the aching back I suspected I’d be fit for nothing but lying in bed feeling sorry for myself, but I said yes anyway. If these folk had anything useful to say, I needed to hear it as soon as possible.