Come Midnight Read Free

... all of it.
    Crionna's reaction had been passing odd. True, she had cautioned Caitlin not to assume 'twas evil, just as she always had. But then she'd said she needed time to "think what to do." She had also said Caitlin was to tell her if the dream came again.
    That had been over a fortnight ago, and in the meantime she'd had the dream of Crionna dying. They'd spoken no more words about the other. The third occurrence had come only last night, and what with Crionna's state, Caitlin hadn't mentioned it.
    But Caitlin had had plenty of time to think the matter through. And try as she might, she couldn't help feeling the dream was a portent of evil, if not evil in itself. She'd spent a great deal of time praying, as Father O'Malley had urged so long ago. Indeed, after last night's recurrence, she'd spent the hours till dawn on her knees. Twas what she longed to do now as well.
    With a brief glance at Crionna, Caitlin made the sign of the cross. "Hail, Mary, full of grace," she whispered ....
    A gust of wind slammed the cottage door shut. Caitlin gave an involuntary cry. All the lamps and candles had been snuffed, throwing the room into darkness. The only light came from the embers on the hearth.
    Quelling a shudder, Caitlin made herself rise and quickly set about relighting the lamps. She was building up the fire when a moan drew her to the bed.
    "Are ... are ye there, child?" Crionna's voice was weaker than before, a faded whisper. "I must—"
    "Save yer strength, Crionna. Here ... I'll brew us some fresh tea."
    The old woman waved her back as she rose to fetch the ketde. "No time ... must... prepare ye."
    Caitlin started to argue. A look from the bhean uasal stopped her cold.
    "Ye've ... had the dream again ... haven't ye, lass." It was a statement, not a question.
    Caitlin nodded. "Only last night, though."
    "Good ... means we've ... some time."
    "Time? Time t' do wh—"
    "Listen t' me, lass!" There was no brooking the command, thin and raspy though it was. Crionna had been formidable and impossible to thwart in her time; Caitlin heard the power of her will even now.
    "Three times...," the old woman went on, "means a warnin' ... a warnin' ye ... cannot ignore. Ye must heed this dream, Caitlin! T' do itherwise... 'twill mean the difference 'twixt joy and misery in yer life, macushla. Perhaps even ... life or death. Ach, I might as well say it. 'Tis yer very soul's at risk, lass! Yer own ... and that of anither."
    Her soul. Sweet Mary, Mother of God! Then, Father O'Malley was right! Only, Crionna wanted her to—
    "I know what ye're thinkin', child, but ye mustn't. The priest... the priest sees only his side of it. He—"
    Crionna fell into a paroxysm of coughing that shook the bed. Quickly, Caitlin did what she could. Again, she elevated the pillow, but to no avail. She offered water the healing tea she'd learned to brew from Crionna herself. Useless. She'd been trained by the bhean uasal in the use of herbs and simples to heal the sick; yet Crionna's affliction was beyond remedy, and she knew it. In the end she was forced to stand by helplessly and watch. Tears were streaming down her face when it was over.
    The old woman's eyes peered out of sockets that were sunken hollows in a bloodless face. She trained them on Caitlin's, forced herself to go on. "Time ... time fer but ... one thing, lass. 'Tis a protection ye'll ... ye'll need. A charm ... and 'tis in the auld tongue, so .. listen carefully. And ... and ye must repeat it ... after me ... with yer eyes open, d'ye hear? Open! There's ... good reason fer this. 'Tis necessary because ..."
    In halting phrases, the old woman told Caitlin about the protective chant. Told her that to work, it must be spoken with the eyes closed. That it was so powerful, it should be used only twice at the most. Crionna wasn't certain—she'd never heard of it being done—but she suspected a third time would kill the user.
    "This I promise ye ... Caitlin," the bhean uasal finished in a voice