Heart of Darkness - Two

Two

The next morning, Quinn woke up to the sun streaming in through the window. Opening his eyes, he caught sight of something he hadn’t noticed the night before. Someone had painted a beautiful mural on the ceiling of the bedroom he’d been given. It was of an angel wrapping her wings around a small human boy. The angel was painted in the likeness of the late Mrs. Du Mont and the little boy was a shrunken version of Seamus himself. Quinn got out of bed and stood beside it, staring up at the mural with wide eyes. It was so beautiful. Whoever had painted it was incredibly talented.

“I painted that after my mom and dad died. If you look in the corner of the room, my dad’s face is behind a corner.” Seamus’ voice said from behind him.

Quinn turned around. “It’s beautiful. How did you get up there to do it?”

“Ladder. It took six months to finish but I like the end result.”

“That must have been hard work. I couldn’t have spent that much time on a ladder.”

“Scared of heights?” Seamus asked, a small smile on his face.

”Yeah, actually. My brother used to tease me about it.”

“I am too, to be honest. It was only because I really wanted to have a mural like this in every room that I persevered in doing it.”

“You’ve got one in every room?”

“There are two rooms that I’m not sure what to put in there. A room on the second floor and the master bedroom. I figure, if I ever fall in love, I’ll paint a mural of me and my significant other on that ceiling. Not sure what to do on the second floor ceiling. I’ll have to figure it out.”

“That’s awesome. Even I’m not that creative. Ronan, my older brother, was though. He was scarily talented with a paintbrush. It’s insane.”

Seamus cocked an eyebrow at him. “You had an older brother?”

“Ronan. He was three years older than me. Disappeared on his twenty-first birthday.”

“Was that part of the Bothwell Curse?”

They were walking downstairs now. “Yeah. Every Bothwell male dies on or just after his twenty-first birthday. Unless they’ve found love. It’s like something out of a freaking Disney movie.” Quinn said quietly.

“It’s a lot better than turning into a werewolf every night and not being able to stop yourself from hurting people. Which is my curse. I have no idea where it started or how it began, though.”

“I know two names. Ciaran Du Mont, one of your ancestors. My ancestor was named Desmond Bothwell. They were very close in life, I believe. I found a letter from Ciaran to Desmond and it sounded like they’d been close.”

“Desmond Bothwell, that does sound familiar. I wouldn’t know how they’d be linked, though.”

“Who cursed your ancestor?”

“My father did some research. He never would tell me much but I know that the woman’s name was Brigid De Luna and that she was a local girl from the village who’d been in love with Ciaran. Apparently, they’d had an affair and she didn’t like how it ended. But that’s all Father would tell me.”

Quinn took a cup down from the cabinet and poured himself a cup of coffee. “Would your library have any information?”

Seamus looked thoughtful. “Maybe but I wouldn’t know where to look.”

Quinn grinned. “Leave it to me. I’m pretty good at research.”

“I guess all hermits have to find something to occupy their time with.” Seamus said, a hint of laughter in his blue-green eyes.

Quinn nodded. “My brother used to call me the family geek. He liked running and working out better than he did reading.”

“You guys were home-schooled, weren’t you?”

Again, Quinn nodded. “Yeah. We went to school for a little bit but kids didn’t really like us all that much. We were rich and we stuck mostly to each other. Eventually dad pulled us out and started homeschooling us.”

“I went to the school for a while as well but Mother and Father pulled me out when I got old enough to start changing. They knew how difficult the rumors would become if they didn’t.”

“Yeah, there were a lot of rumors about your family. Werewolves, pranks, some people even called you guys freaks. I mostly stayed out of it, though I thought most of it was nonsense.”

“Even the werewolf bit?” Seamus asked, grinning.

Quinn smirked. “Well, after I realized that the Bothwell Curse was a real thing I began to lean towards you being a werewolf. I mean, it didn’t seem likely that you were housing a pack of rabid wolves.”

“Most people in the modern day don’t believe in werewolves, Quinn.” Seamus said.

Quinn raised an eyebrow. “I guess I’m not most people.”

Seamus gave a laugh. “I guess you aren’t. Come on, I’ll show you the library.”

Quinn followed Seamus upstairs to the library. The library was behind two massive white doors. Seamus pushed them open and followed Quinn inside. Inside, Quinn looked around. It was even more beautiful than he’d imagined it could be. It was painted in white and gold and was packed with books of every color and shape. It was a room that Quinn could very easily get lost in. Turning to him, Seamus grinned.

“It’s pretty big but I haven’t been in here in a long time. My dad was obsessed with it and I haven’t been in here since his death.” Seamus explained quietly.

“It’s beautiful.” Quinn breathed, looking around.

Seamus nodded. “It’s been this way for centuries. I’m sorry about the dust. I should have at least come and cleaned in here a few times but...”

“I’ll manage. It’s not that dusty.”

“There is a portrait the desk in back, though, that says Brigid’s name on the back of it. We were never sure if it was her or someone else, though. My father found it right before he died.”

“I’ll be able to tell you if it is. There’s a portrait of Brigid De Luna in my father’s study at Bothwell Manor. I’ve studied it enough times to know her face.”

“Are you certain?” Seamus asked, voice quiet.

“I’m certain. She has a very recognizable face.”

“I’ll show you the portrait. It was in a box of things that belonged to one of my ancestors. I’m not sure which and Father would never let me get too close to the portrait. I was little then, though.”

Seamus led Quinn to the back of the library towards a table where a couple of large boxes had been placed. He dug around in one of the boxes for a moment before he found what he was looking for. The portrait was a medium sized one and it was very well done. So well done, in fact, that t looked almost new. In the portrait stood a woman with long red hair piled high on her head. She had very intense gray eyes and light skin. It was most definitely the same woman from the portrait in Bothwell Manor. Quinn had found the link. They’d both known Brigid De Luna. She must have been the witch to cast the curse on the two families.

“This is her. It’s Brigid. She must be the link between the two families.” Quinn said.

“Why would the same witch curse both families? Are the curses connected in some way?” Seamus asked.

Quinn thought about that. “I think so. Both curses can only be broken when the cursed finds love, correct?”

“Right.”

“She was involved romantically with one of our ancestors and he jilted her.”

“You could be on to something. And now I’m really interested in this as well. Would you mind some help? I mean, I’m not sure how much help I’ll be but...”

Quinn grinned at him. “I’d love some help. It would be nice to have someone to bounce ideas off of and talk to once in a while.”

Seamus grinned at him. “Let’s get lunch and then we’ll come back and look through some of this old stuff again.”

“Good idea.”

Seamus led the way back down to the kitchen, Quinn on his heels. As he followed him, Quinn realized quite suddenly that he did not want to die. The idea of death was a very terrifying one now that he’d found someone he connected with. Evaluating the thought, he realized that death really did scare him. He hadn’t thought that death was scary before but now that he contemplated the idea of no longer existing, he realized that he was quite terrified by it. Sighing, he forced a smile on his face as they entered the kitchen. He could not let his fear come between him and the goal of solving this mystery. No matter how - or when - he died, he would get to the bottom of this curse.