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smiled.
    “I’ll help you set him free.”

Chapter Three
     
    Ceum saor de clach
    Be Ye Biast air duine
    ’Tis Gaol dara slighe
    Ge Ye be mèinne
    Dh’oidche mur dh’là
    The words at first she thought were beautiful were now
giving her a pounding headache as she tried repeatedly to get them right.
Though Jasper worked diligently with her, she knew she tried his patience
because he disappeared several times for a matter of a second then reappeared at
her side. She guessed he needed a chance to gather his calm before continuing.
It had to be her Texas twang that kept twisting the enunciation and screwing it
up.
    It annoyed her to a degree that every time she questioned
him about contacting the spirit world, he redirected the conversation. She
decided that if she did as he asked and learned the verse then maybe he’d be
more cooperative with what she wanted to know in return. She spent endless
hours with Jasper trying to learn the Celtic verse she needed to recite at
sundown.
    Completely frustrated, Lynn snapped, “Why do you need me to
speak the words? Why can’t you do it?”
    Jasper sat back. Sadness darkened his gaze. “Because I no
longer live.”
    He disappeared and Lynn hated she’d asked him in such a
harsh manner. She concluded that a flesh-and-blood being had to speak the
anti-curse. When Jasper reappeared, she apologized.
    “It be all right, lass. Ye be tired and the verse be hard
for one with no background in Gaelic.”
    Lynn kept her voice even and polite as she asked another
question that had plagued her thoughts. “Why didn’t you have Travis speak it
when he found your cave? Why did you have him bring me here to meet you?”
    “In Padon’s case, the curse need be spoken from a woman’s
tongue.”
    “In Padon’s case, a woman’s tongue,” her brow pursed as she
questioned him, “what do you mean by that?”
    When her stomach growled loudly, it gave Jasper an excuse
not to explain and to change the subject. Jasper apologized profusely for being
an unforgivable host for not providing sustenance for his guest. He’d shown her
to the collection of knapsacks and assorted camping and spelunking equipment
he’d compiled scaring people out of the cave over the centuries. She plundered
through several of the more modern backpacks and acquired pre-packaged airtight
meal rations, a cup and a spoon.
    The food wasn’t the tastiest, but it was sufficient to stave
her hunger. Drinking water from the fresh underground stream helped wash down
the rations. Lynn sat quietly, soaking her feet in the cool water and staring
at the statue.
    Was he alive in there? Could he hear them? Did he know they
were there? These were questions she stored away to ask him once he was free
from his stone prison.
    Lynn shrugged off her shirt, stood and shimmied out of her
jeans. In her bra and panties, she rinsed the mud from her clothes then laid
them over a rock to dry. Though she’d washed up some earlier, she desperately
needed to cleanse away more of the grime from her fall. She hesitated when she
reached around to unhook her bra.
    “Jasper, if you can here me,” she called out, “I’m going to
take a bath.”
    His words whispered down to her. “Ye privacy I shall
respect.”
    A smile cracked her lips. He was the most polite man—umm,
ghost—she’d ever met. Even though she knew she wasn’t his type, he’d let her
know he wouldn’t peek. After removing her undergarments, rinsing them and
laying them to dry with her other clothing, she stepped into the water. Out of
the corner of her eye she spied something drifting down the stairs. Surprised,
she turned, thinking it was Jasper, but instead it was a towel, washcloth and a
bar of soap.
    “I found these in a pack and thought ye could use them.” His
voice floated to her ears as the items landed on the ground near the water.
    “Thank you,” she said, knowing he heard her without her
having to raise her voice. She scooped the soap and the washcloth into her