O’Shan froze, staring at her face, then at each of the men around her. He shook his head, then stilled, staring at her again.
“I am a mother, grandmother and great-grandmother. I am much older than you require. But not of that matters. My blood will not cure your death. John O’Shan you were not a good man. You were evil, torturing those who thought to fight you or go against your wishes.
“You followed what the priest told you to do because it felt right, it felt good. Your guards, so loyal to you, did as you asked until they themselves were sacrificed in the caves below. You are dead, John O’Shan,” she whispered.
“You are dead, John O’Shan,” said Grip.
“You are dead, John O’Shan,” said Eagle Feather.
“You are dead,” said Hezekiah.
“No,” he whispered. “I was good. I-I was good. The guards told me I was a good man.”
“Because if they did not, you would have killed them. They were loyal to you out of fear, not for any other reason,” said Joseph. Zulu lifted the veil off his head appearing as a dark floating head in the tower. John gasped, taking a step back.
“He is my husband,” said Gabi. “Stop this John. Let these people live in peace and move on, wherever that might be.”
Grip and Eagle Feather attempted to force him back into the seat. He tried to speak but nothing came out. His body was weak, feeble and falling to pieces, literally in front of them.
Stepping forward, he tried again to break free, then he stepped back attempting to take his seat again. But before he reached the cushion, his bones turned to dust, scattered across the tower floor.
They all stilled, staring at the dusty bones and then at one another.
“Is he gone?” whispered Gabi.
“He is gone,” said Eagle Feather. “For good.”
Gabi turned, launching herself into Zulu’s arms. He lifted her carrying her down the steps to security and safety. When they all walked through the outer gate, the others stared at them, waiting to hear what happened.
Julia looked at all of them, closing her eyes as her head tilted toward the tower. She took a deep breath and then exhaled.
“He’s gone. For good,” she said. “You did it.”
“We did it,” said Joseph. “Gabi was wonderful up there. All of you were.”
“What do we do with the gold in the room?” asked Zulu. “Does anyone own this place?”
“The historical society for Ireland owns it. They were never planning to touch it given the history but maybe now they will,” said Conor. “All those poor souls can now rest in peace. All these years, decades, centuries of suffering and pain and now they can move on and be with their families.”
“Michael was right. He didn’t remember his life and when he realized he was a horrible person long before the priest talked to him, he seemed to just give up,” said Gabi.
“Being slapped in the face with reality will do that to you,” said Rory.
Conor made the calls to the local authorities and to the government. When they arrived, he stood before them solemnly.
“I’m going to tell you a story and I need for you to hear me out,” he said.
More than two hours later the people around him stared in disbelief. At first they thought the head of the Laughlin family had finally gone mad himself. But when he showed them the tower room and the pile of dust, they nearly ran for their own lives.
Over the next few days, the journals, the maps, the drawings, everything was turned in for context and reference. Conor and Sean wanted no credit for what had been found. They wanted it to be credited to a mysterious security company that had investigated the murder of the American woman.
No names. No fanfare. No television or radio. Nothing. Just resolution.
“I wish you’d stay a bit longer,” said Conor. “I’ve enjoyed havin’ all the noise in the house once more.”
“Well, maybe it’s time Sean took a wife,” smiled Gabi. Sean laughed, clutching his heart.
“Oh, Gabi me dear, if you weren’t married I’d be runnin’ off with ‘ye today.”
