The Banshee Cries

6. THE DEVIL'S LAIR

The Ó'Conchobhairs' chapel is a small church built within the rocks of a cliff falling to the sea. A ten-minute drive from campus.

I must be close because I see her once more, standing at the edge of the cliff barefoot. The banshee. She stares at me through her dishevelled hair which streams with the wind, and claps. Not celebratory claps. She stretches her arms and brings her hands in for one single clap which echoes in the emptiness. A few seconds later, she claps again. I think they are warning claps telling me of some danger but I can't be sure.

I look at Aiden in the driver's seat. At this point, I suspect everyone. He leans in closer to me and I jump. I realise later he just wants to reach for the glovebox. I don't know if Shiobban has a car but I find it unlikely she would have walked all this distance. And yet, I don't see a second parked car.

"You just happen to have a flashlight in your car?" I ask when Aiden takes it from the glove compartment.

"You don't?"

I don't think much of it. It's a perfectly normal thing to have in the car. I'm on edge because there is a killer on the loose and, I realise, I don't know this guy all that well. But I try to push my fear away because I'm a naturally scared person. If I end up dying, it's my damn fault for choosing the worst time to play hero!

He takes a crowbar out of the boot and I feel my legs almost giving out. I think of all the places where I can hit him to buy me some time to run.

"For protection," he tells me.

I don't want to state the obvious. Why would Shiobban need protection if she is inside praying and mourning her friend? But I swallow hard and nod.

The banshee is still clapping at me and I want to tell her to shut up already. Whatever justice she wants for Cara, I'm not going to get it without finding Shiobban first.

We walk inside the church and it is cold and damp. When I heard of the Ó'Conchobhairs' chapel, I imagined something richer and more refined. Not an old – maybe cultic – chapel made of stone. There's no light besides the daylight coming in through the arched glassless windows. It has a low domed ceiling and the altar is a short hallway with a few steps leading to an empty table in front of the window.

There is no one inside.

"Look, there is a passage," Aiden pulls my sleeve and points at the stairs that lead to some sort of underground. He opens the doors and I can see tunnels made of rock. Fear starts to cloud me. "Come on," he calls.

If Aiden really is the murder, I am letting him lead me into his trap, straight into his devil's lair.

I have a strange feeling about this. I feel as if there is something dark creeping in the cracks between the rocks. Some negative or evil energy if that was a real thing. Or maybe my brain is trying to tell me that following a murderer into his lair isn't my brightest of ideas. I make a list of all the common traits I have noticed in murderers on television.

"Why do you think she would be mourning in a place like this?" I ask.

"I don't know her very well. We only have a class together and she always seemed a little bit stuck up to me." Motive? Check. I walk slowly behind him and look for something I can use for protection. I spot a large enough rock and snatch it from the ground. He has a crowbar... It seems only fair. "And she has some nerve!" I detect a hint of anger and tighten my fingers around the rock.

"What do you mean?"

He hesitates. "It's nothing. We should keep moving."

"You realise we are risking our lives and coming to this place to make sure she's not in danger. I would at least like to know if she is worth it."

"It's really nothing. She was probably just being overprotective. In a possessive way though." Evasive? Check.

"Yes...?" I insist.

"She told me to stay away from you. She said your kind wasn't for the likes of me."

My kind? I feel confused for a second, thinking he might mean something entirely different and that my English is not as fluent as I thought it was. But I remember something else.

"When did she tell you that?" He keeps silent. "Aiden, when did she tell you that?"

"I may have lied about her not saying anything to me this morning. She had a total meltdown when she saw me and started yelling at me to stay away from you. I just didn't think it mattered."

Story doesn't check out? Check.

I raise the rock above his head and bring it down hard. He staggers forward a little but doesn't lose consciousness. "Melissa, what the..."

He turns to face me and I hit him again with. This time his eyes open wide before he falls to the floor. He's facing the ground and I can't see if he's awake but he doesn't move. There is a deep gash on the back of his head and I see blood spread through his hair.

A retching sound rises deep from my throat and I have to hold back a gag. My hands are shaking. I can't believe I've assaulted a person. I look at the rock in my hand and see the carmine stain sprinkled on the rough surface. I throw it back on the floor as if it electrocuted me.

My heart is racing. I reach down to pick up the flashlight and sprint.

"Shiobban?" I yell, hysterical panic edged into my voice. The only reply I get is silence.

My terror is taking over. I half walk, half run through the straight tunnel which seems endless. The beam of light keeps jumping up and down, and then sideways because I can't focus it on one single spot. I keep expecting to see a shadow come at me out of nowhere.

I turn around to make sure Aiden is not following me but I'm alone. I'm alone and unprotected.

"SHIOBBAN?"

There's a sound. It's low and unclear but rhythmic. I think maybe it's the banshee telling me where to find Shiobban, so I follow it. Even though it's the last thing I want to do. As the sound grows louder, my steps grow slower. I don't recognise it has a lament but as a melody. It's more humming than words but it's not the banshee's wail. It sounds human.

"Shiobban?" This time my voice is barely a whisper.

I've reached a gallery but it's too dark to identify anything. I point the flashlight around, until I see it.

There's a dark silhouette sitting on the floor. I almost missed it because its dark clothes and silk black hair falling on their back and face. Their outline is almost invisible in the shadows. The person is rocking back and forth, humming a lullaby and holding something in their arms.