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back to the bookshelves. Grant certainly had eclectic tastes in reading matter.
     There were texts of ancient Greece and Rome, agricultural pamphlets, astronomy and chemistry,myths and legends, Elizabethan poetry and plays. French novels. All the same books he had kept in his library in Dublin.
    As she drew out one of those slim volumes, Caroline noticed a strange thing—a crack between two of the bookcases wider than
     usual. She peered closer, and cold air drifted over her face. The shelf stood out from the wall an inch or so.
    A secret door? There
were
mysteries on Muirin Inish, more every minute it seemed. Caroline grasped the edge of the shelf and carefully tugged. It was
     very heavy, but it did slide toward her a few inches. She pulled harder, putting all her strength into it, and with a rusty
     groan, it opened a full foot.
    “By Jove,” Caroline whispered as she peered into the inky darkness of a secret passageway. Cold, damp air washed over her,
     and she smelled the richness of wet earth.
    She had read of such things, of course. Priest holes ingeniously built into English manor houses and smuggler’s caves under
     coastal roads. When they were children, she and her sisters had explored Killinan Castle in search of just such a thing, but
     they never found it. Killinan was much newer than this place, with only one medieval tower remaining near the Palladian-style
     mansion that her grandfather built. They had been terribly disappointed.
    And now here was a secret passageway right before her eyes.
    She glanced back over her shoulder to the empty library. She had work to do—she should stay here where it was safe. But that
     old sense of adventure was so very tempting.
    “I’ll just go a little way,” Caroline said. Perhaps it wouldgive her some clue to where Grant had hidden
The Chronicle,
or if she was really lucky, lead her right to it.
    She took one of the lamps and carefully used a table to hold the door open. Then, drawing in a deep breath, she plunged into
     the unknown.



Chapter Six
    O h, what am I doing?” Caroline whispered as something skittered over the toe of her boot. The passage was narrow and dank,
     with stone walls that dripped with water and a dirt floor that was probably home to all manner of crawly little creatures.
     It smelled of earth and rottenness, and faintly of the salty tang of sea. She could see little beyond the circle of her lamplight,
     and what she could see was not promising.
    There were a few broken, empty crates piled along the walls, but no ancient Irish ruins or anything that could hide treasures
     and books. Nothing that could justify venturing into such a place. Caroline usually
read
about adventures. She didn’t often embark on them herself. Not since the terrible Rebellion of 1798, when she and her mother
     and sisters had to flee their home. She had seen enough adventure, bloodshed, and battle then to last her whole life. Battles
     in history books, tucked safely away at a distance of hundreds of years, were more her pastime now.
    But she felt a little thrill as she made her way along the secret passage. The whole world was turned upside-downever since she had decided to come to Muirin Inish. Finding a dark passageway and deciding to explore it, against every grain
     of prudent sense, just seemed to be an extension of all that impulse.
    Maybe she was a true Blacknall woman after all.
    Caroline laughed and walked faster along the corridor, suddenly very eager to see what happened next. Until a shrill scream
     pierced the darkness ahead of her. A black, winged demon-creature suddenly swooped out of the shadows and flew toward her
     head.
    She shrieked and dove to the ground. The lamp fell from her hand and rolled across the dirt as the bird flew away.
    “Don’t go out. Please don’t go out!” she whispered frantically, crawling toward the flickering light. She carefully set it
     upright and listened for the return of the screaming bird—and probably dozens of