“Weren’t you supposed to stay inside tonight?”  Moira asked, and she frowned, but only to keep from bursting out laughing for love of every one of the knuckleheads.

            Pumpkin quickly hid behind Ellean.  Prickles looked at his feet while Ignatius slapped him on the arm, not to say the ogre felt it.  “Yeah, you big dummy.  And just look at the mess you made.  Broken glass everywhere.”

            “Hey!”  Macreedy stepped up.  “Quit picking on the big guy.  He can’t help it.”

            “Oh, so now you’re the big defender?”

            Ellean pushed between the two.  “Stop it, this isn’t helping.”

            Pumpkin, now exposed, fluttered up to Mickey.  “Hi, my name is Pumpkin.”

            “I’m no defender.”  Macreedy turned red.  “You’re just deflecting your own disobedience on him because he just isn’t the sharpest knife.”

            “He isn’t even the sharpest spoon.”

            “Cut it out…”  Ellean pushed them both to separate them

            “Do you have a name?”

            “er, Mickey.”

            “Well, er, Mickey…”

            “Sorry about the window.”  Prickles finally caught up with the first thing that was said just before Moira shouted.

            “Quiet!”  She turned back to Mister Brannigan who did not believe what he was seeing, and who was apparently seeing more than just the glamour of humanity that surrounded the others.  Moira could not tell exactly what Mickey saw other than the fairy who zipped to Moira’s shoulder as soon as she shouted.  “Now, Mister Brannigan.”  Moira started to speak, but then she was not certain what she wanted to say, exactly.  She felt some pride in all she accomplished.  She used her powers, such as they were, and most were things that her grandmother never taught her, or not exactly.  She decided the only reason she got caught by the man’s first salvo was because it came so unexpectedly.  And the only reason she was afraid of the man was because she had never faced such power before.  And the only reason he surprised her with the cloud and managed to hover above her was because he had practical experience at this sort of confrontation which she did not.  Only now what was she going to do with the man?  Those were the exact words she heard behind her.

            “Now, what are you going to do with him?”

            Danna came up alongside Moira and Michaela ran to Mickey and hugged him like she was afraid she might lose him, or lose herself, and like maybe she would not mind being lost if only they could be lost together.  Moira turned to Danna and asked a simple question.  “Is there something you can do?”  The Little ones, meanwhile, were exceptionally quiet and rather tried to pretend they were not even there, except for Prickles, who would have been impossible to be inconspicuous and who had forgotten that he was out after hours in any case.

            “Do you want me to do something?”  Danna asked while she reached out and hugged her granddaughter.

            Moira responded, more willingly than ever.  “Please,” she said.

            “Alright.”  Danna reached out her hand.  “Let me see Mary.”

            “Mary?  Oh, yes.”  Moira reached into the purse which was still on her shoulder, opposite the fairy.  She pulled out the rock and handed it over, not knowing what to think.  Danna stepped apart from them all and rapped her knuckles on the rock three times.  There was smoke that came from the rock, and it slowly formed into the figure of an older woman, not as old as Madam Elizabeth, but nearly so.  The woman stretched as if confined in a tight space for a very long time, which she was, and then Mister Brannigan said something that should have been no surprise to those around him.

            “Mother?”

            “Brian?”  The Djin obviously knew the man.  “How did I get back in Ireland?”  She turned once in a circle and stopped to face Danna.  “And don’t call me Mary!”

            “Your chosen name.”  Danna smiled and waved her hand.  Moira’s bubble around Mister Brannigan melted and the man turned to the Djin with some pleading in his voice.

            “Mother.”  He repeated himself.  “Get me out of this.”

            The Djin paused and looked at her son.  She shook her head.  “There is no getting out of this.”  She pointed at Danna.  “I have a bad feeling about this, and I don’t mean a good-bad feeling.”

            “Why?”  Mister Brannigan protested.  “Who is this woman?”

            “THE goddess,” the Djin answered.

            “What?”

            “Hush,” Danna said, and the man could no longer speak or move.  There was no magic involved, no bubble, no sign of light, like his pink magic or Moira’s magic like the sun, or even the Djin’s darkness, there was no magic of any discernable kind at all and yet the man could neither move nor talk, though he could still see and hear and understand.  “Now, Mary, you have a choice.”

            The Djin squinted her eyes tight as if she expected Danna’s words to hurt in some way.  “Go ahead.  I figured the rock was only temporary.”

            “Not at all,” Danna said with a smile.  “It can be permanent if you like.  I think you will make a fine door knocker, and a real discouragement to anyone not welcomed in the halls of Tara.”

            “Where’s the choice?”

            “Well.”  Danna paused, dramatically.  “I could let you take your son home, but of course you and he would have to become fully human.  He has certainly tortured his neighbors enough for one lifetime.  Then again, he has amassed a bit of a fortune so you would not suffer any want in the rest of your days, but the choice is yours.”

            “Mother?”

            “Hush.  I’m thinking about it.”

            “Mother!  And what becomes of me if you decide to be a door knocker?”

            Danna said nothing..

            “I suppose we will have to go to church,” the Djinn said.

            “Oh, the way you like to torture people.  You will make a great church lady,” Danna said in a voice that suggested it should be no hardship.

            “And my son will have to get a job?”

            “Certainly he will want to do something, don’t you think?”

            “Something awful that he will hate?”

            “Mother!”  Now Mister Brannigan was really objecting, but Danna merely shrugged.

            “Alright, you convinced me,” the Djin said.  “It isn’t safe for me out here anymore with you hanging around and it beats being in that crampy old rock.”  The woman stretched.  Danna clapped her hands.  Apparently that was all there was to it.

            “Take good care of him, Mary,” Danna said, and she waved in her way and both the former Djin and her formerly half-Djin son vanished.

            “You don’t mess around,” Moira said.  “Did you know that was going to happen in advance?”

            “Not really.”  Danna spoke honestly enough.  “But if you hang around Little ones long enough you will discover that those sort of coincidences seem to come up all the time.”  Danna turned to the Little Ones and they shied away as if not paying attention.  “Go to bed,” she said and waved her hand, and the Little Ones all vanished to appear again in their rooms and in their beds.  Then she turned to Mickey and Michaela who were still holding tight to each other.  “Aren’t they a nice couple?”

            “She kind of towers over him.”  Moira pointed out the obvious.

            “Details.”  Danna dismissed Moira’s thought.  “Well?”

            “Well what?”  Mickey found his voice.

            “Go home and pack.  Both of you.  You and Moira and her friends have a long journey tomorrow.  And bring the money from the poker game.  That should be enough to get you a fine cottage.”

            “But we’re not married.”  Michaela pointed at herself and Mickey but did not let go.

            “Details,” Danna said, and she and Moira vanished from that place to appear on their hill top by the cliffs and the sea.

            Madam Elizabeth came around and began to rise, her eyes fire red with anger; but as she rose, Mother began to grow until she was no longer a house cat and more like a black panther; and one the size of a Siberian tiger.  Madam Elizabeth’s anger flashed toward Michaela for the briefest second before she was distracted by Mother’s nerve shattering roar.  Poor Michaela collapsed in the corner, hand to her mouth, tears of abject fear in her eyes but unable to shut those eyes against what was happening.

            “What are you?”  Madam Elizabeth demanded of the cat

            “A friend come to set you free,” the cat said as she transformed into the Danna, an inhumanly beautiful but nevertheless human looking person.  Nearly all of the lives of the Kairos are ordinary human and mortal.  That gave Danna an advantage of the other ancient gods when it came to appearing mortal; but to be sure, if Michaela had not been in the room, watching, Danna might have been tempted to let out a little of her true nature, and that might have simplified things.

            “Remarkable, as Mister Casey might say.”  Madam Elizabeth was taken aback by the transformation, but not startled.  “Now there is a real talent, and I would have it.”  The Madam began to chant and Michaela reacted.

            “Beware, Lady.” 

            Danna just stood there and waited.  When the chanting was done, thin tendrils of blue light snaked out from the woman and tried to wrap around Danna.  Michaela shrieked again before she saw the tendrils pass through and return to their mistress without touching Danna at all.

            “What is this?”  Madam Elizabeth complained.  “You are not without power.  I saw your transformation.  I should be filled and reveling in your power, but I am not.  Explain.”

            “I have no power,” Danna said calmly as if she was simply speaking over tea.

            “Don’t be absurd.  All power is derived from other sources.  I discovered my power in Egypt, in the ancient texts.  It is the power of Amonette herself, the very serpent of Egypt.  What can you compare to that?”

            “My mother was Egyptian,” Danna said brightly.  She sounded like a schoolgirl.  “My father was Greek and my husband was from the North, from Aesgard.  That was the agreement that gave my children the West.  But my mother was Egyptian.  She was Anu, the twin sister of Anubis, though in Egypt she was called by a different name.”  Madam Elizabeth looked up as if to ask that name.  Danna dropped her voice and stared down the old woman.  “Bast.”  She spoke her mother’s name.

            “A fanciful tale,” Madam Elizabeth said weakly as her eyes turned to the ground.

            “And I also have another name in Egypt.”  Danna took a single, powerful step forward.  “It is Amonette.  I am the serpent of Egypt.”

            Michaela laughed, but it was a soft, hysterical sort of laugh.

            “No.”  Madam Elizabeth spoke the word Moira had spoken, but in this case it was the word of a woman who was suddenly just old and frail and failing.

            “You see?  I have nothing that can be given or taken away.  I have no power.  I am power.  I am the embodiment of the power itself.  I am the one from whom the power is derived.  This is my authority and my responsibility and my burden from birth, and you are my responsibility as well.”  Danna paused to examine the woman inside-out.  “In this place, in the West, in my jurisdiction, I am the Danna, and my children whom I loved, kept their responsibilities well.  Now, alas, it falls to me once again.  Miss Eizabeth, what shall I do with you?”

            Madam Elizabeth collapsed in a chair, tears in her eyes, her head hung, her hands in her lap worried a handkerchief.  “Mercy,” she breathed.

            Danna waved her arm in her way and the demonic presences that swirled around the woman vanished.  They would never return.  Michaela sat up to see what she could, and she saw Madam Elizabeth raise her arms to the table, drop her head into her arms and weep. 

            “Go home, Miss Elizabeth.  Go to confession and make peace.  The day is gone and the time is short.”  Danna spoke softly before she stepped over to Michaela.

            Michaela was surprised that Danna smiled down at her and held out her hand.  Michaela never felt so much awe and fear in her life, but something inside her said that everything would be alright, so she took the hand and let the goddess lift her to her feet.

            “Shall we see how my granddaughter is making out?”  Danna asked with such a casual tone, Michaela was amazed.  The goddess was actually speaking to her!

            “De Danna.”  She breathed.  She remembered Moira using the words.

            “Yes, that one,” Danna said, and she let out the faintest laugh that was so sweet and perfect and lovely, Michaela almost stumbled from the beauty and joy of it.  Fortunately, Danna never let go of her hand.

###

            Moira got outside in time to see Mister Brannigan throw a net of pink force over Mickey so Mickey could not move.  Mister Brannigan spoke.  “I will drain your life from you, all but the last little bit so you can live as an old man and remember how you cheated me.”

            “You will not.”  Moira acted without thinking.  Her hand came up as it had inside and Mister Brannigan was knocked on his rump by a surge of light and fire.  Unlike Madam Elizabeth, however, Moira’s surge appeared to make the man mad.  He got up and let out his own surge of power, and Moira found herself equally deposited on her butt, and she said, “Ouch!”  Even as Pumpkin zoomed up to her.

            “Lady!”  She acknowledged Moira, but only briefly as she turned fairy fast and zoomed up to Mister Brannigan’s face where she shook her finger and spoke sternly.  “You leave my Lady alone you big, smelly breed!  You don’t know what you are doing.  You are going to make my Great Lady very angry!”  Mister Brannigan was fascinated.  He lifted his hand slowly as if testing the air around the hovering fairy and stared with open eyes and open mouth, but said nothing.  “I’ll get my friends and you will be sorry.”  Pumpkin rushed back into the inn so fast she appeared to vanish.  That gave Moira an idea.  She was not very good at it, but she thought she might do it if she concentrated, and sure enough, she vanished from sight.

            Moira moved quickly from where she had been sitting while Mister Brannigan looked around, finally turning in a complete circle.  “Over here.”  Moira’s voice sounded out behind the man and she moved quickly again as the man spun around.

            “Grrr.”  The man growled like a beast and he let the pink of his magic form a cloud which rapidly expanded around him.  “You cannot hide.  You and the little man owe me, and I will have my justice.”

            Moira was caught in the cloud before she could escape.  It stung her eyes and made her cough, and when it began to clear, she saw Mister Brannigan floating about four feet off the ground, hovering over her and grinning, wickedly.  Moira flew up to meet him and the man’s jaw dropped.  “You can’t do that!”  He shouted, before he shared his deeper thoughts.  “I see why you came out rather than Madam Elizabeth.”  Moira merely shrugged and began to circle him, and while she could not come anywhere near fairy speed, she was able to create enough wind to blow off the cloud.  Moira just smiled and waved at the man as she went invisible again. 

            “Not fair!”  The man shouted.  “You cheat at everything.”  Then he appeared to have a second thought and he floated down to where Mickey was still captive in his pink bubble.  “Show yourself or I will hurt him.  I swear it.”

            “You will not hurt him,” Moira said as she became visible a few feet away.  Brannigan quickly tried to place a bubble around Moira, but Moira merely waked through it and it dissipated like the smoke.  Brannigan tried his shot again.  He hoped to knock her down again, but Moira waved her hand and knocked the shot aside like it was barely there.  Then Moira tried something of her own and Brannigan found himself wrapped in a bubble, but one that was shone like sunlight and it was smaller than the one around Mickey as well so Brannigan could hardly move.  Then Moira reached out her finger and touched the pink bubble and it popped like a pin-popped balloon.  Mickey staggered a little, shook his head and yawned to pop his ears, but he looked unhurt.

            It was then that the big front glass window at the inn shattered and garnered all of their attention.  Pumpkin squirted out the inn door followed by Macreedy and Ellean with bows at the ready.  Prickles had chosen to go through the glass, and a reluctant looking hobgoblin followed the ogre, carefully.  “I’m coming!”  Prickles shouted in a kind of roar that made Mickey fall to his knees in prayer and made poor mister Brannigan soil himself.  When the Little ones arrived, though, Moira stood, hands on hips and tapped her foot.  They all stopped short.

###########

NOTE: To read this story from the beginning or to read any of the stories of the Traveler please click the tab “Traveler Tales” above.  You can read the stories on the right independently, or just the Vordan story on the left, or the whole work in order as written.  Your choice.  Enjoy. 

–Michael.

            Moira entered the back room where she saw the table set up with five chairs.  Michaela was in the corner to make sure there was plenty of coffee, hot tea and ice water along with an assortment of sweets.  Moira set Mother down as Michaela looked up and gave a little curtsey.

            “Mam.”

            Moira ignored the girl and thought she had better wait in case there was a different fifth person expected.  Moira knew her grandmother arranged this and so she knew she had one of the chairs, but she was still having trouble coming to grips with just who her grandmother was, exactly.  It was all too surreal for words.  Mother had no problem with the set-up, however.  She jumped straight to the table, laid down between two chairs and began to wash herself.

            Mickey Dolan was the first to enter.  He went straight to Michaela and hugged her with the words, “Wish me luck.”  Then he went for the chair beside Mother where his back was to the door.   “Miss O’Leary.”  He patted the chair beside him, but still Moira hesitated.

            Danny Casey came in next and Mickey made the man sit one over so he would be on Moira’s right hand.  Moira could handle that.  Both Mickey and the luckiest man in Ireland seemed harmless enough while the other two were scary.  Madam Elizabeth and Brian Brannigan sat across from her, the madam a little to her right and Mister Brannigan to her left on the other side of Mickey where he kept his head and eyes lowered and continued to glance nervously now and then toward the door.   Moira took her seat at last and Mickey started the introductions.

            “Mickey Dolan.”  He said and turned his head to wait.  The others followed.

            “Brian Brannigan, Esquire.”

            “Madam Elizabeth of Dublin.”

            “Danny Casey, the luckiest man in Ireland, and I’ll be apologizing in advance for taking all of your money.”

            Moira grinned at the man.  “Moira de Danna O’Leary,” she said, softly.

            “De Danna.”  Madam Elizabeth scrutinized her opponent.  “Cheeky name.”

            “My mother was an O’Leary.”  Moira said nothing about her Father’s family.

            “Deal.”  Mister Brannigan insisted as Michaela brought each contestant an equal number of white, blue and red chips.  Moira knew they represented certain astronomical denominations, but she took comfort thinking of one, five and ten pennies.  She had played that game before.

            The first ten hands sped by without much change among the players.  Moira, like the others, won two, lost two and folded six times.  Mother sat quietly all that time, watching, and only occasionally batted a chip that was thrown or flipped in her direction.  Moira thought about her Little Ones upstairs.  She did not hear any screaming or yelling, so she supposed they were being good, all except Pumpkin who was hiding somewhere up on top of the china cabinet, watching.

            As the cards were dealt, Moira looked again at both Madam Elizabeth and Brian Brannigan.  She decided there was something wrong about both of them, though she could not pinpoint exactly what.  It was similar to what she felt about Mickey, only in Mickey it seemed benign.  In these other two it seemed wicked or twisted in some way.

            As the cards were picked up, Moira thought about how she was now able to look Prickles in the face for what he really was, and without screaming.  She felt proud about that and considered how her eyes were adjusting to going back and forth between seeing the glamour of humanity and the reality of their spiritual selves.  When she picked up her own cards, she looked again across the table and had to stifle her gasp.  She could see the cards the others were holding exactly as if they were pointed at her, but worse, she could see something of the nature of each contestant. 

            Mickey looked smaller, and in a way miserable.  It was something that could not be seen through his outward, perpetual smile.  Danny Casey still looked human, but he had a golden glow about him.  Moira could not discern the source.  The other two, though, were hard to look at. 

            Madam Elizabeth was surrounded by a demonic presence, or maybe presences.  They were limited in what they could do through their vessel, the Madam, but they were horrifying to perceive.  They were not so mundane to form into faces or figures but rather swirled around her like a patch of darkness that no light could penetrate, and given what Moira felt, she was glad she was practiced on stifling her screams. 

            Brian Brannigan was worse, in a way, as the man’s visage constantly changed between skeleton and grinning demonic faces and a ghost-like or smoke-like creature that would not be pinned down.  Every view was terrifying, and Moira was glad when Mickey nudged her.  It was her turn to decide if she was in or out.

            Moira could not avoid looking at the cards that the others held before she looked at her own cards.  She was in and raised the pot, but then she turned her vision back to normal and told herself that seeing their cards was cheating.  To be honest she was terrified by the other things she had seen.

            Ten more hands went by with only a slight difference shown.  Mister Brannigan and Madam Elizabeth were gaining at Moira’s expense.  Mickey and Mister Casey were holding their own, but barely.  After another ten hands, they were all gaining and Moira was losing, and by then it was getting late.  Michaela was in the corner yawning.

            At last, Mickey was to deal and he set the cards down for Moira to cut the deck.  Mother finally moved and placed a paw right on top of the deck.  Moira looked at the cat, and then looked around the table, and said, “I believe that will be fine as it is.”

            “Alright,” Mickey said, and he scooted the deck from beneath the cat’s paw and dealt.  Now, Moira had been taught to wait for all of the cards to be dealt before she picked up her hand, and she maintained that courtesy even if the others did not.  This time, though, when all of the cards were dealt, Mother rolled over in front of Moira and sat right on top of her cards.  What is more, the cat was not going to be moved, and let out a guttural sound and showed her claws to underline that fact.

            The betting went around the table with each person raising the pot, but none too much.  When it came to Moira, she felt she was just going to have to move the cat and look, but she was distracted by a sudden weight on her belt.  When she reached down, she found a leather purse just like the one her grandmother had given to her old boss back in Derry.  She did not have to look inside to know it contained gold coins.  Moira looked at the cat again who nonchalantly cleaned a paw, and she said, “I’m in.”  She pushed all of her chips to the center and then dumped the purse of gold coins on top.  “This should make up for wherever I may be short.

            Everyone else immediately looked at their own cards but one by one they pushed everything they had into the center and made up for wherever they were short with money from their own pockets.  Since no one took any cards, and since Danny Casey was the last, he laid down his cards first.  He had four tens.  Mickey had the Jacks, Madam Elizabeth the Queens, Mister Brannigan the Kings, and when Mother finally moved, it was to no one’s surprise that Moira had four aces under the cat.

            Mister Brannigan jumped up.  “Cheaters!”  He yelled and pointed at Moira and Mickey.  “You two have been working together all night.”

            Michaela shrieked.  It was not because of the game.  Pumpkin leaned over a bit too far to get a good look at what was going on and Michaela saw her, and so she shrieked, but Mickey took that as a warning and he raced from the room, Mister Brannigan hard on his heels.

            Moira stood as Madam Elizabeth stood.  The Madam stared at her as if studying her, or perhaps to hear what the demons had to tell her before she spoke.  Danny Casey spoke into the silence, but it was only one word.

            “Remarkable.”

            “That was quite a trick.”  Madam Elizabeth spoke at last.  “And I did not even see the magic, and that is remarkable Mister Casey.”  Madam Elizabeth grinned a grin that Moira could only call witch-like in the extreme.  “That is a power I shall have, but first I think you need taking down a bit.”  With that, the Madam’s hands flew up and something like electricity shot across the table.  Moira was stunned for a second because it was like a taser or like she put her finger in an electrical socket, but the feeing only lasted a second as something rose up inside of her.

            “No.”  Moira found her own hands fly up as if by their own volition, and a strong light, bright as the sun streamed from her hands and struck the witch square in the chest.  The old woman slammed back against the wall as surely as if flicked by Prickles, and then the old body slumped to the floor, dazed and just barely conscious.  Moira was mortified at what she had done, and looked at her hands as if they were not her own.  She ran from the room and only Mister Casey spoke.

            “Remarkable,” he said.  “Remarkable.”  He repeated himself because Pumpkin fluttered past his face in pursuit of Moira.  Danny Casey got up and followed.  He was not about to miss any of this.  That left only the Madam and Michaela in the room, and Mother the cat who jumped down from the table only to stop in the doorway.

            When they arrived in Nevan, everyone was quiet, and while that worried Moira, she could not help take advantage of that for a little while.  Her grandmother had taught her many things in the night and she needed time to process it all, and some of it she just had to practice.  It was not all easy and natural, like breathing.  When they went into the inn for supper, Moira finally asked the Little ones what was wrong.

            “Nothing wrong, Lady,” Macreedy answered.  “It’s just your grandmother said we had to stay in our rooms tonight.”

            “That’s not so bad for me and Macreedy, and maybe Pumpkin as long as we can find her some cartoons to watch,” Ellean said.  “But it may be hard on Ignatius and Prickles.  Ogres and Hobgoblins rather like the night.”

            “Not as bad as if it was a troll and a true goblin,” Macreedy countered.

            “But Prickles is positively dragging.”  Moira pointed at the ogre who yawned.

            “Ah!”  Ignatius had been listening in.  “That is because ogres have a very slow digestion, and this one has been eating a lot lately.  Ogres don’t always get three square meals.”

            “True,” Prickles confirmed.

            “So they eat a lot when they can, except they kind of fill up after a while and then they hibernate while their system works it all off.”

            “When the ogre is fed you are safe in your bed.”  Pumpkin repeated the old rhyme, and smiled.  Moira thought of something else.

            “Why would grandmother tell you to stay in tonight?”

            Macreedy shrugged.  “She said there was a game you had to play tonight.”

            “And I like games.”  Pumpkin looked ready to pout, now that she was thinking about it.

            “I do too,” Ellean agreed.  “But she said stay in, and so I will.”

            “She did say you need to keep Mary with you,” Macreedy added.

            “Mary?  Oh, yes, the rock.”

            “So, where is our waitress?”  Ignatius was impatient.  Moira looked around in time to see a young man enter and walk right up to a waitress at the work station where they kept all of the silverware and glasses.  He looked like a fine young man, only he was barely five feet high, while the waitress, who looked and pointed at them was at least five-six, a full head taller than the poor fellow.  The waitress whispered in the young man’s ears and he followed her to the table.  He stayed a couple of steps back to watch.

            “Hello.”  The waitress kept her eyes on Moira as if there was some comfort there.  “My name is Michaela, have you decided what you would like this evening?”

            Moira passed the buck, so Ellean ordered, followed by Macreedy.  Michaela wrote it all down and looked at her writing the whole time.  She refused to look up at the couple.  Then it was Prickles’ turn, but he just tried to wake up and tried to figure out what was going on, so at last Michaela had to look up.

            “And for the O, the-o, O,” she stuttered.

            “The big fellow will have the biggest steak you’ve got, and just as rare as you can make it.  Raw if possible.”  Ignatius spoke up.  Maybe Prickles was half asleep, but there was a little drool that dripped from the corner of his mouth all the same.  Michaela gladly turned her head, but then she decided that this person was not any easier to look at.  She returned to her writing.  “Now, I’ll have the filet, but you better make it well done.  Burnt would be fine.”  Ignatius turned to the group.  “Best way to keep the ogre’s fingers off it,” he confided.  “And you better bring a baked potato.  I had chips last night, but I like them American style, with plenty of ketchup, and Prickles kept grabbing them, thinking that the ketchup was blood.”  Michaela shrieked and the young man took a step closer, just in case.

            “That was mean.”  Pumpkin scolded the hobgoblin and turned to the waitress. She ordered a small house salad and a glass of milk.  “Mother might have to help with the milk if I can’t drink it all.”

            “I am sure that would be fine,” Moira said as she petted the cat that was currently in her lap.  She looked up at the waitress then and the waitress looked furtively around the room before she offered a little curtsey. 

            “And for you, Mam?” 

            “But—.“  Moira did not quite know what to say.

            “Yes, m’lady.”

            Moira shook her head.  “You have to call me Moira.”

            The waitress stopped trembling for a second.  “Moira,” she said, and she honestly tried to smile.

            “You have the sight, don’t you?”  Macreedy interrupted.

            “Yes, er, sir.”  Michaela responded with a quick look which just as quickly returned to Moira.  “People say I have my grandmother’s eyes.”

            Moira nodded.  “Then you should know that these are my friends and they won’t hurt you.”

            “Yes, Mam.  If you say they are friends, I believe you.”

            Moira frowned and ordered, but when she was done, Ignatius had to get in one more word.

            “And believe it or not, even I am a nice fellow, most of the time.”

            “Sir.”  Michaela acknowledged that she heard, but after another brief curtsey for Moira, she ran off to the bar, the young man following her.

            “Are we really your friends?”  Pumpkin asked.  There was such hope in her voice, everyone was drawn to look in her direction.  After a second, they all looked at Moira because clearly that was the question in their minds as well.  Moira took the time to look around the table and even looked at the ogre and the hobgoblin for what they really were; something she could not have done just a day ago.

            “Yes,” she said.  “All of you are, and I can’t imagine feeling any other way.”  It was true.  Even after such a short time with these creatures—people, even if they weren’t human people, she honestly and clearly cared deeply about them.  She looked at Pumpkin and wondered if anyone could be anything but friends with a fairy.

            “Gee.”  Prickles spoke up.  “I never had a friend before.”  He turned red and Moira smiled for him.

            “You said Michaela had the sight?”  Moira turned to Macreedy for an explanation.

            “She could see us for what we really are,” Ellean answered.  “Maybe not exactly.”

            “Probably not exactly,” Macreedy interrupted.  “But near enough to know we are not exactly human.”

            “If she is a true seer, she might even catch glimpses of tomorrow,” Ellean concluded.

            “Or the game tonight,” Ignatius added.  The poor Hobgoblin had a small tear in one eye, still thinking about friendship in his own twisted way.

            “Yes.”  Pumpkin found her pout again.  “What kind of game is it, anyway?”

            “Poker,” Moira said.  She figured out that much.

            After supper, Mother stretched and dug a claw straight into Moira’s leg.  “Ouch!  Mother!”  Moira scolded the cat, but as she reached to grab the cat, the cat jumped to the floor and began to move through the tables.  The Little Ones watched, not thinking anything of it, but Moira knew it would not be good to have people complain about cat hair in their food, so she got up to retrieve the beast.  Mother went straight for the bar, leapt up right between Michaela and the young man and startled them.  Michaela was immediately drawn to pet the cat while Mother settled down and began to wash herself.

            “Oh, be careful,” The young man said.  “This beastie is not one for playing around, I think.”

            The bartender picked up a rag to snap at the cat to get her off his bar.  As he snapped the rag disappeared.  He thought he dropped it, but when he did not see it right away, he picked up another.  This one disappeared in his hands, and he saw it.  He was frightened.  He looked at the cat and shouted out his fear.  “Hey!”  But then no other words came out despite all of his efforts so he decided a quick retreat to the back room was in order.

            “My apologies,” Moira said as she came close.

            Michaela looked up.  “Lady.”  She curtsied and went about her duties.

            “Mother.”  Moira reached for the cat, but the young man stopped her with a word.

            “Your familiar?”

            “Eh?”  Moira knew what a familiar was.  “No, just a stray I adopted,” she said.  She reached out but Mother slapped Moira’s hand with her paw and let out a little growl.  Moira raised her brows and looked again at the cat.  “All right, Mother,” she said.  “You adopted me.”  She scooped up the cat and snuggled.

            “Acts like a familiar,” the young man said.  Moira shook her head and prepared to turn and go back to her table, but she stopped when the man spoke again.  “So you’re not here for the game?”

            “Poker?”  Moira asked.

            The man nodded his head and stuck out his hand.  “Mickey Dolan.”

            “Moira O’Leary,” Moira responded.  She shifted Mother enough to give the man’s hand a half shake.

            Mickey raised a brow of his own.  “Moira de Danna O’Leary?  I thought you would be older.”  He said that as if he knew her.  “They say you never lost a tournament.”

            Moira paused and thought back.  She remembered the games she used to play with some of the girls back in her Catholic High School.  It was true that they soon stopped playing with her because she never lost.  But that was the only poker she ever played, and it was strictly penny ante.  “So what makes this game so special?”  Moira decided to cut straight to the point.

            “Ah!”  Mickey sat back, took a sip of his drink and allowed for a long pause.  “It’s a struggle for position, you might say.  First, there is you who never lost, and me, and I’m thinking I may have a few tricks you haven’t seen.  Then there is Danny Casey there.”  He pointed and the man waved in a very friendly manner before he took another long swig of his beer.  “Mister Casey calls himself the luckiest man in Ireland and he figures to put that to the test.  Then there is Madam Elizabeth.”  He pointed in a different direction toward an old lady in a shawl who appeared to be working on a crossword puzzle and ignoring them.  “They say she is a witch and can make the cards do her bidding, if you believe in that sort of thing.  And finally, there is Brian Brannigan.”  Mickey pointed to a man who sat alone with his back to the wall.  He appeared to be looking all around, furtively, as if he expected some enemy to show up at any minute.  “He is a mysterious character from down in County Cork.  They say he is a terror to his neighbors with his mischief, mayhem and magic, if, as I said, you believe in that sort of thing.”

            “And what about you, Mickey Dolan?  What does Michaela say?”

            Mickey paused again before he answered, but this time it was not for dramatic purposes.  Instead, he had something on his mind.  “She says there is no way I can win against you; not if I had all the money in the world and sat at the table forever.  She is usually right about things, you know.”

            “And so does that mean you will be dropping out?”

            Mickey shook his head.  “Not a chance.  That means I am more curious than ever to see how it all turns out, even if it costs me the price of admission.”

            Moira cradled Mother and the cat let out a little meow which prompted Moira to stroke the cat’s luxurious fur.   “You really like Michaela, don’t you?”

            Mickey did not hesitate to nod.  “Since the first time I saw her, but she says I am only half a man and she won’t be satisfied until she meets the other half.”  Mickey looked at his shoes as he confessed himself.  “The trouble is I have never known my father so there isn’t anyone to meet.”

            “It seems to be going around.”  Mickey looked up briefly before he returned to gaze at his shoes.  Moira spoke.  “I’ve never known my father either, but my friends are taking me to him, so don’t give up hope.  Maybe someday some friends will take you to yours as well.”  Mickey shook his poor, sad head, but his eyes never lifted which prompted Moira to ask a question.  “You wouldn’t be a cobbler by chance, would you?”

            Mickey lifted his head and grinned a little at that.  “No.  Why?”

            “Just a thought.”  Moira said as she turned to go back and sit with her new friends for a little while longer.