The rain was falling really hard now as a spiteful darkness descended upon Inis Mór.

Phones, torches and naked flames spiked the night.

A gasp from the family beside her caused Inteachán to turn her head. A fleet of old ambulances was pushing its way slowly through the crowd.

‘George Petrie called this place the most barbaric monument in Europe,’ whispered Mac.

‘How could he have even begun to know?’

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