The morning of the third day Sara went for a walk in the fields surrounding Connemara. She saw someone out of the corner of her eye and turned, saying "Hey, Danny, what's up?" but it wasn't Danny. It was a young woman that looked a lot like Sara but dressed in an outfit that refused to stay one color.
"Who are you?" croaked Sara, crossing her arms. She hadn't spoken in a while and she was rationing the water.
"I'm your granddaughter." The young woman replied.
"What? How? I'm not having kids!"
"I'm not supposed to tell you how - it's complicated anyway. I just wanted to tell you that I will be a wielder too. Because of you, I will exist. They want you to know about me because I'm finding peaceful ways to use the Witchblade. You probably won't believe this but your children will raise ambassadors." She smiled.
"You're right. I don't believe you." Children, plural, she would have kids?
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
By the afternoon Sara was ready for a shower, a meal and a real bed. She gathered up the things she had brought - coat, water bottles, Kleenex, and headed for the car.
Unfortunately there was a problem with the car. A dead guy was draped over the hood. This was sure going to mess up her plans for a shower. She pulled out the cell phone she had rented with the car and called the emergency number that came with it.
Ian was waiting at the intersection of the spur road that went to Connemara. He had been there for 3 days, waiting for Sara to leave her isolation. When he saw two cop cars and an ambulance turn into the access road he made fast work of getting within visual range of what was happening. He saw Sara talking to the Irish policemen and EMT's were looking at someone laid out on Sara's rental car. He decided that if Sara needed anything it was probably a lawyer - were they called barristers?
He went back to his car to get out of the way of the investigators and waited to follow them when they took her in. While he waited he called Irons.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
At the police station, it was deja vu all over again, but this time Sara was on the other side of the badge. Since she had called in the crime and waited for the police to come they didn't really consider her a suspect.
However she was a foreigner, claiming to be a member of a foreign police force, so they went by the book and kept her overnight to check her credentials.
"We will be checking with your superior in New York" one of the policemen said.
Sara couldn't help predicting "Better stand back from the phone, he's going to come unglued. On the other hand he'll probably laugh his head off."
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
In the morning, after a very basic breakfast, someone came to tell Sara she was being released. This detective introduced himself as Constable Mel Seanain. He said the arrangements for her release were made by Irons. Sara wasn't surprised.
As Constable Seanain walked her toward the front office he told her the conditions of the release. She was to stay in the country until cleared to leave. And she would keep them informed of her whereabouts.
Sara noticed a familiar figure up ahead at the end of the hallway. Nottingham. At the same time Constable Seanain was telling her the third condition of her release. She was to be watched over - by Nottingham!
Sara laughed. "This is too rich." She turned back to Constable Seanain, who had just noticed the fading bruises on Nottingham's face . . . and the scrapes on Sara's face. Seanain pulled her into a side office.
"Is Nottingham a threat to you? We can delay your release until you arrange for someone else to be with you."
Sara was amused at his concern. "That's OK, I'm as much a threat to Nottingham as he is to me." The irony of the situation was pretty damned funny. Seanain looked confounded.
In the front office Sara signed release papers and received her suitcase and an envelope of personal items. She tore it open and took out her wallet, the little metal box, Cathain's ring, and the Witchblade. Just as she took out the bracelet Constable Mel Seanain touched it and said "That is quite a unique bracelet you h . . ."
The moment he touched it Sara saw an elderly man talking to Seanain. He was saying "We are the guardians of Llan An Cailleach. That is our family responsibility. The Witch's Glove has been lost for centuries now but we must be ready to resume this duty when it is found. It will return."
Constable Seanain said quietly "I feel privileged to be here when Llan An Cailleach is returned to these shores."
"Well, it's only here for a visit. Then it's going back to New York!" Sara snapped. Someone else had a claim on the Witchblade?
Seanain spoke again for Sara's ears only. "Now that police business is finished, I'd like to invite you to my home for supper, a simple supper. If you are open to talking about the Witch's Glove?"
"I'm being watched over by Nottingham - he'd have to come too."
"How much does he know about the Glove?" Seanain asked.
"More than I do!" said Sara.
Ian had his rental car and drove her to the hotel he had picked. She registered, finding out that Ian had already reserved a room in her name, next to his. "Figures, won't let me out of his sight." Sara felt a little amused and cornered.
She said to Ian "Well, Nottingham, you've ruined my reputation in this town."
"When I made the reservation, Sara, I made it clear that I am your bodyguard, which is true enough." Ian was inscrutable as ever.
Not only was her room next to Ian's room, the two rooms had connecting doors. In a fit of perverseness she opened the door on her side and knocked on the other door, which sprang open - it was unlatched. Ian was sitting in a chair, still in coat and gloves, looking like he expected her.
"Hey, I need to work out. Got any idea where to go?"
"Yes, there is a gym near here. I will drive you."
"OK. Great. Meet you at the car." Sara went back in her room and closed and locked the connecting door. She grabbed clothes and shoes and went to the car.
At the gym Sara faced the quandary of what to do with the Witchblade. Gone were the days when she thought nothing of leaving it in a locker. She hesitated to ask Ian if he would hold it because she wasn't sure she'd get it back, but he promised. "Sara, I will return it to you today, when you leave the gym." She trusted his word and didn't see a way for him to reinterpret those words to keep the Witchblade so she handed it over to Ian.
"Who are you?" croaked Sara, crossing her arms. She hadn't spoken in a while and she was rationing the water.
"I'm your granddaughter." The young woman replied.
"What? How? I'm not having kids!"
"I'm not supposed to tell you how - it's complicated anyway. I just wanted to tell you that I will be a wielder too. Because of you, I will exist. They want you to know about me because I'm finding peaceful ways to use the Witchblade. You probably won't believe this but your children will raise ambassadors." She smiled.
"You're right. I don't believe you." Children, plural, she would have kids?
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
By the afternoon Sara was ready for a shower, a meal and a real bed. She gathered up the things she had brought - coat, water bottles, Kleenex, and headed for the car.
Unfortunately there was a problem with the car. A dead guy was draped over the hood. This was sure going to mess up her plans for a shower. She pulled out the cell phone she had rented with the car and called the emergency number that came with it.
Ian was waiting at the intersection of the spur road that went to Connemara. He had been there for 3 days, waiting for Sara to leave her isolation. When he saw two cop cars and an ambulance turn into the access road he made fast work of getting within visual range of what was happening. He saw Sara talking to the Irish policemen and EMT's were looking at someone laid out on Sara's rental car. He decided that if Sara needed anything it was probably a lawyer - were they called barristers?
He went back to his car to get out of the way of the investigators and waited to follow them when they took her in. While he waited he called Irons.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
At the police station, it was deja vu all over again, but this time Sara was on the other side of the badge. Since she had called in the crime and waited for the police to come they didn't really consider her a suspect.
However she was a foreigner, claiming to be a member of a foreign police force, so they went by the book and kept her overnight to check her credentials.
"We will be checking with your superior in New York" one of the policemen said.
Sara couldn't help predicting "Better stand back from the phone, he's going to come unglued. On the other hand he'll probably laugh his head off."
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
In the morning, after a very basic breakfast, someone came to tell Sara she was being released. This detective introduced himself as Constable Mel Seanain. He said the arrangements for her release were made by Irons. Sara wasn't surprised.
As Constable Seanain walked her toward the front office he told her the conditions of the release. She was to stay in the country until cleared to leave. And she would keep them informed of her whereabouts.
Sara noticed a familiar figure up ahead at the end of the hallway. Nottingham. At the same time Constable Seanain was telling her the third condition of her release. She was to be watched over - by Nottingham!
Sara laughed. "This is too rich." She turned back to Constable Seanain, who had just noticed the fading bruises on Nottingham's face . . . and the scrapes on Sara's face. Seanain pulled her into a side office.
"Is Nottingham a threat to you? We can delay your release until you arrange for someone else to be with you."
Sara was amused at his concern. "That's OK, I'm as much a threat to Nottingham as he is to me." The irony of the situation was pretty damned funny. Seanain looked confounded.
In the front office Sara signed release papers and received her suitcase and an envelope of personal items. She tore it open and took out her wallet, the little metal box, Cathain's ring, and the Witchblade. Just as she took out the bracelet Constable Mel Seanain touched it and said "That is quite a unique bracelet you h . . ."
The moment he touched it Sara saw an elderly man talking to Seanain. He was saying "We are the guardians of Llan An Cailleach. That is our family responsibility. The Witch's Glove has been lost for centuries now but we must be ready to resume this duty when it is found. It will return."
Constable Seanain said quietly "I feel privileged to be here when Llan An Cailleach is returned to these shores."
"Well, it's only here for a visit. Then it's going back to New York!" Sara snapped. Someone else had a claim on the Witchblade?
Seanain spoke again for Sara's ears only. "Now that police business is finished, I'd like to invite you to my home for supper, a simple supper. If you are open to talking about the Witch's Glove?"
"I'm being watched over by Nottingham - he'd have to come too."
"How much does he know about the Glove?" Seanain asked.
"More than I do!" said Sara.
Ian had his rental car and drove her to the hotel he had picked. She registered, finding out that Ian had already reserved a room in her name, next to his. "Figures, won't let me out of his sight." Sara felt a little amused and cornered.
She said to Ian "Well, Nottingham, you've ruined my reputation in this town."
"When I made the reservation, Sara, I made it clear that I am your bodyguard, which is true enough." Ian was inscrutable as ever.
Not only was her room next to Ian's room, the two rooms had connecting doors. In a fit of perverseness she opened the door on her side and knocked on the other door, which sprang open - it was unlatched. Ian was sitting in a chair, still in coat and gloves, looking like he expected her.
"Hey, I need to work out. Got any idea where to go?"
"Yes, there is a gym near here. I will drive you."
"OK. Great. Meet you at the car." Sara went back in her room and closed and locked the connecting door. She grabbed clothes and shoes and went to the car.
At the gym Sara faced the quandary of what to do with the Witchblade. Gone were the days when she thought nothing of leaving it in a locker. She hesitated to ask Ian if he would hold it because she wasn't sure she'd get it back, but he promised. "Sara, I will return it to you today, when you leave the gym." She trusted his word and didn't see a way for him to reinterpret those words to keep the Witchblade so she handed it over to Ian.