Her father stood up, and smiled down at her a little sadly.
“I think it’s time you rescued Oliver from the washing up. Bring him and your mom out here. I have something to show you all.”
When Clare walked into the kitchen, Oliver could tell by her relieved expression that she’d had the conversation with her dad. He’d been getting on splendidly with her mom. Laura Doyle had a sparkly sense of fun, and the same thick curls as her daughter. If you had to have a mom-in-law, which he guessed it would come to eventually, he’d do okay with Laura, he was sure.
“Guys, Dad wants to show us something in the graveyard,” Clare said.
He looked at her, perplexed.
Her mom sighed. “Your dad probably has another hare-brained plan for improvements. I keep telling him there’s notmuch improvement to a graveyard except to add another soul.” She winked at Oliver. “Not a problem you have to face, Oliver.”
“True,” Oliver laughed ruefully.
Clare came over and folded her hand into his and led him outside and through the graves, her mom following.
Ben Doyle was standing by a small corner plot, head bent as if he were praying.
When they stopped beside him, Ben pointed to a small memorial stone, recently uncovered by the look of the earth dug around it.
A familiar vibration started in Oliver’s finger. The magick was at work. He rotated his ring, glancing down at it. What on earth was this about?
“Please, look at the inscription on the stone, Oliver,” Ben said quietly.
Oliver bent down and read the words in the dying light.
In memorial
Here lie the hallowed remains of
Abraham Hale, his wife Katharine and daughter Effie.
Who perished at the hands of humans
On October 31st
48,356
May they rest in peace
And may their legacy bring harmony to
All sentient beings in these blessed
Valley Lands
Tears spiked the back of his eyes. The Hale ring was fully alive now, the heat of it almost searing his skin.
He groped for Clare’s hand as she crouched down next to him, and heard a little sniffle. He knew she too was weeping.
They stayed like this for several minutes, heads bowed, Clare’s parents standing quietly behind them.
Finally, Oliver asked, “How long have you known about this memorial, Ben?”
“Only a few weeks. I was digging the other day, clearing to make more land available, and there it was. I believe my parents would have buried your family’s ashes here after the great staking, hidden from view but safe and consecrated.”
“I owe your family a deep debt of gratitude,” Oliver said softly.
“I used to sit here as a little girl,” Clare mused, “right in this corner of the graveyard, talking to the dead. I had no idea this headstone was under the briar bushes, but maybe, who knows, my darling, maybe your family were talking to me, guiding me.”
