“I didn’t want to show up at her door with my face covered in dried blood, so I walked down the side trail to wash myself. I had come here many times in my life when I was troubled. It was a favorite place of mine, and was sacred to women from ages long forgotten. There was a crumbling stone altar to an unknown goddess next to the spring and a more recent cross dedicated to our founder Brigid. I was pleased to see that someone had been here recently and placed a wreath of bright spring flowers o...n the altar and another on the cross. The well wasn’t often visited anymore, and it pained me to see it in neglect. I took off my robe and knelt by the water, splashing it on my face and scrubbing the dried blood from my mouth. I felt so foolish for having a fight with Eithne in the middle of all that was going on. Kevin was right. There was no time for petty conflicts when a murderer was on the loose. Kneeling there before the altar and cross, I closed my eyes and prayed: “Holy saint or goddess, whoever you might be, please help me find the man who is killing my friends.MoreLessRead More Read Less
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