Sanctum of Death

You wake up to early morning sunlight, your pillow soaked with sweat. The nightmare has left a foul taste in your mouth.

A couple of days pass. The weather gets steadily hotter as Midsummer's Day approaches. There is a dry, thundery taste to the air, like a crackle of electricity on the tongue. Every day, the sky above the Wicklow hills is the same vivid shade of blue, and every day brings the same haze of heat. Misty, Aunt Maire's sheepdog, seems to be driven near insane by the weather: she is constantly howling or whimpering. She often shakes uncontrollably and dashes through the Wolf's Head looking for a hiding place, as though pursued by invisible enemies.

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