The city at night is a dark and dangerous place. Revelers and ruffians vie for space. People die in dirty alleys while others walk past and laugh.
Inteachán could handle the city. She knew where to walk and when. Day. Night. It was all the same to her.
Inteachán turned right onto Charles Street Great. St Margaret’s Avenue was just up ahead. She stopped.
A large fox was rooting through a plastic bag full of rubbish.
The city was full of foxes and Inteachán knew she was perfectly safe.
Suddenly the fox stopped what it was doing and Inteachán saw it wince. Shaking its head from side to side the fox began to howl.
Inteachán crouched into the shadows and as she did so she could feel a pressure building in her ears.
‘Why Croke Park?’ asked Inteachán. ‘Isn’t that rather a strange place for the Summoning to be started?’
‘Not at all’, replied Mac. ‘As you know, Croke Park stands in Ballybough and Ballybough is one of the darkest parts of Dublin.’
Mac looked at Inteachán.
‘There is an old cemetery in Ballybough where the City’s undesirables used to be buried. Thieves, robbers, highwaymen and suicide victims, hence the name, the Suicide Plot.’
‘The worst thing of all,’ continued Mac, ‘was that each corpse had a stake driven through its heart so that they couldn’t further bother the residents.’