They reached the inn in Eniskillen in good time and Moira strictly charged Macreedy and Ignatius to keep everyone back and quiet while she registered.  Mother, the cat followed Moira into the lobby and leapt up on the front desk to watch the proceedings.

            “A cat, I see.”  The man behind the desk was rude about it.  “It will have to sleep out in your van.”  He spoke as he looked up their reservation.  He paused when he read it, and his attitude changed drastically.  “My apologies, your ladyship.  The jeans and with you driving and all.  I should have guessed right away.  Of course you may keep your cat with you.  Whatever you like.  Does he have a name?”  The man’s hand started in the cat’s direction.

            “Mother,” Moira said, content to watch the exchange.  Mother wanted no part of the man and slapped his hand as a warning.  Mother kindly did not extend her claws, but it was a warning well taken.  The man returned to business and turned the register for Moira’s signature.

            Moira wrote “Moira,” and then paused.  She had been raised an O’leary.  That had been her mother’s name, but she thought she ought to defer to her father, only she did not know his name, and for all of her pleading, the Little Ones would not tell her.  They were sworn to secrecy.  Still, she decided that she ought to write something more, so she wrote “Moira de Danna O’Leary,” and left it at that.

            The man looked at the signature before he handed her the keys.  “The reservation card says you live at Tara.  I know the ruins and all, but I was not aware of anyone living there.”  He made light of the situation.

            “Don’t believe everything you read,” Moira said.  “I am between places right now.  Where I will end up is yet to be determined.  Come along, Mother.”  And Mother followed as Moira took her troop up the stairs because she imagined the elevator would not hold the ogre.

            When it came time for supper it was the usual madhouse at the table.  Prickles could not get his steak rare enough.  Ignatius ordered the most expensive thing on the menu, just to be obnoxious.  Pumpkin would not eat, but at least Moira figured out that while she might be in her big size and look like a normal woman, she was really just a little fairy and so probably did not need much.  A glass of milk and a piece of bread or some greens really was sufficient.  “The fairy diet,” Moira called it.  Meanwhile, Ellean cut up Prickle’s food and tried to teach him to use a fork.  You can imagine.  And Macreedy showed discomfort with the whole enterprise, not only because he was stuck in the night with a hobgoblin for his companion, but because the alternative was to be stuck with Ellean, and that idea made him really uncomfortable.  His conversation that night consisted of a few, surly words.

            Moira found her own eyes shift more than once to a table of six very old men.  Two were in wheelchairs, two had walkers nearby and one had a cane.  She doubted that she ever saw a collection of wrinkles to match; but they sounded happy and carefree and clearly they liked each other and enjoyed each other’s company very much.  Moira’s table by contrast gave her a headache.  She cut the supper short, sent everyone to bed and claimed that she was anxious to see how Mother was making out with her bowl of milk.

            “But I’m not sleepy,” Pumpkin protested even as Prickles let out a big yawn.

            “So fly around the room for the night,” Ellean suggested and they smiled, but all Moira could picture was her own inability to sleep while she swatted at the biggest insect in history.

            When the girls got upstairs, Moira excused herself, went straight into the bathroom and ran the water for a bath.  It was not that she especially needed a bath, but she needed the privacy – a little time alone.  After that, she was not sure what happened.  One minute she was testing the water temperature and the next minute she was with her grandmother, downstairs, back in the dining room, facing the table of old men.  There were two chairs pulled up to an open space at the table which Moira did not notice before.  She wondered briefly if she honestly did not notice or if her grandmother made the places and made the men not notice.

            “Gentlemen.”  Danna spoke.  “This is currently my granddaughter, Moira.”  The men all nodded to say hello while Danna sat and pulled Moira into the other chair.  “Moira, this is the Ancient Order of Hibernians.”

            “Hello.”  Moira was polite but her grandmother was not finished.

            “Dana O’Neil was a dentist for years.”  Danna began to introduce them around.  “Michael “Mickey” Donnely was a plumber, John J. Kavanaugh, known as J. J., was a fine businessman., William “big Bill” Smith whom the others call the Englishman, was a traveling salesman, William “little Bill” Flynn worked several trades over the years, and John “Jack” Kennedy, retired from the army nearly forty years ago.”

            “Any relation to the former American President?”  Moira asked to make conversation.  Three of the men said, “Yes,” and “of course” and “absolutely.”

            Jack said, “No,” and shook his head, but he smiled.  “Not really.”

            “These gentlemen are members of the Ancient Order of Hibernians.”  Danna repeated herself.  “They also served together in the same company during the war.” 

            “Oh.”  Moira looked interested.

            “And they gather every February first to feast and celebrate the day of Saint Bridgid.”  Danna stood so Moira stood with her.  All at once, the men looked at them with different eyes as if a veil had been lifted so they could see clearly for the first time.  It was J. J. Kavenaugh who spoke up for them all.

            “Say, who are you, and how is it that you know all about us?”

            “Gentlemen.”  Danna smiled and the men were so taken by her beautiful smile they dared not interrupt.  “I just want to thank you for remembering my granddaughter.  Bridgid was one of the only people who ever lived that I allowed to call me Grandmother.  Now, Moira is another.”  With that, she took Moira’s arm and turned her toward the wall so Moira did not get to see it from the perspective of the men.  She did not see the mist rise up in the room or smell the heady smell of golden apples, or see the vision of the cliffs and the sea, or the fact that she and her grandmother glowed like angels and ever more brightly until the men had to close their eyes and look away before the brightness became like the flash of a camera and vanished so only the wall remained.  From Moira’s perspective, the wall itself appeared to part or perhaps become invisible, and in a step or two, she was standing on a grassy knoll overlooking those very cliffs and listening to the crash of the sea.

            Moira looked up.  The moon was up and the stars were extra bright now that the clouds had cleared off.  She could see well in any case.  She could see in the pitch dark if she wanted to.  It was one of the things that was different about her, and she knew it.  “Grandma.”  She had to talk.  “Who am I?”

            “You are my granddaughter, Moira de Danna O’Leary.  I like that.  And you are a fine young woman, I think.”

            “Grandmother!”  Moira had accepted that much.  “You know what I mean.  Can’t you read my mind?”

            “I prefer not to,” Danna said honestly enough.  “Most did not do that in the past, despite the publicity to the contrary.  Life is much more interesting when you don’t have all the answers up front.”

            Moira said nothing, she simply lifted her arms and began to rise into the air.  She glowed like the moon.  When she was high enough to be over Danna’s head, she spoke again.  “But look at what I can do?  Isn’t it frightening?  And there are other things I can do, too.”

            Far from being frightened, Danna smiled broadly and floated up to hover beside her granddaughter.  “I am proud of you.  It isn’t frightening.  It is wonderful.  Why, I bet there are all sorts of things you can do that you don’t even know.”  She took Moira’s hand so they could fly together, and that night, under the moon, Danna taught her many things.

            Moira’s eyes popped open as the sun rose.  She was in her bed at the inn, lying in fetal position, as clean and warm and comfortable as if she had taken that bath.  Ellean made no sound at all when she slept, but Mrs. Pumpkin, her little self asleep on a pillow, her legs and arms splayed out and moving like she was making angels in the snow was breathing rapidly.  Moira imagined for a fairy that was the slow, deep breaths of sleep. 

            Mother the cat poked her head up from where she rested comfortably against Moira’s leg.  “Go to sleep.”  Moira whispered to the cat, and the cat responded with a soft purr while Moira snuggled down and shut her eyes for a little more sleep.

            That morning, they headed out for Nevan.  Moira had said that all of this was silly since they could have driven all the way from Derry to Tara on the first day; but Grandmother said they had reservations in Nevan, and she asked if Moira played poker.  She did not explain.

            The morning was drizzly, not exactly raining, but it was a cold October.  Moira stood, backpack ready, raincoat over all.  She stomped her feet and thought that running shoes were perhaps not the best choice, when she saw Ellean and her skinny boyfriend, Macreedy come over the little rise.  Moira drew her breath in sharply when she saw them, because what she had seen in a cloudy sort of way at the bar, and later sensed in her insides was now shown to her eyes as plain as day.  Ellean and Macreedy were not human.  Elf was the only word she could imagine that might describe them, and just before they arrived, and just before Moira said something silly about not believing in elves, a marvelous thing happened.  Mrs. Pumpkin came flying over the rise so fast, Moira could hardly keep her eyes on the fairy, and she zoomed right up to Moira, face to face, or rather, Moira’s face to Pumpkin’s whole body; and while Pumpkin still sounded like a grown-up woman, her contagious, child-like enthusiasm and excitement did make her sound a bit like a three year old. 

            “Good morning Moira.  Are you ready to go?  I am so glad you are going with us.  How far is Eniskillen?  You have a backpack.  Can I see what’s inside it?  I could ride in your backpack and watch the rear as long as I don’t have to look at Prickles.  Ignatius is pretty scary looking, too.  My Lady said I could ride on your shoulder, but I had to ask permission first.”

            “Ahem.”  Macreedy coughed and Pumpkin flew to hover beside Moira’s shoulder where she sat and watched and only tugged once on Moira’s long, red hair to get her balance.  Macreedy and Ellean both bowed since they were both in pants, like Moira who was in her jeans..

            “Elves.”  Moira said the word at last.

            “We are elves of the forest of South Park on the long march beyond the Castle of the Free,” Macreedy said, which meant nothing to Moira.  “But the first question must be, can you still see the glamour?”

            Moira almost shook her head because she could see no disguise at all, but at the last second she refrained and thought that it might be like an optical illusion.  She tried to look at the two before her in a different way, and all at once she saw a man, not quite so skinny, and a girl about her own age, or maybe a little younger, still dressed in the same dress she wore at the church.  “Yes, I think so,” she said.

            Macreedy took out a plain tin whistle and tooted a few quick notes.  Prickles and Ignatius came and Moira was glad she was still seeing the glamour.

            “What are they?”  Moira asked.

            “Ignatius is a hobgoblin, and a sorry excuse for his father’s son if you ask me.  Prickles is an ogre.”

            “But not a terrible bad person once you get to know him,” Pumpkin said in Moira’s ear, and that caused Moira’s head to turn and Pumpkin almost lost her seat.  “Sorry.”  Pumpkin was the first to apologize.

            Moira was startled for a second because the fairy looked like a parakeet.  “No, I’m sorry,” she said while they waited for Ignatius and Prickles to catch up.  Then Moira made them wait a bit longer while she looked at both of them without the glamour.  She shivered when she saw what Ignatius really looked like.  She screamed, but only briefly when she saw Prickles, and Prickles lifted his head in pride.

            “I like you,” Prickles assured her.  “Why, I can look at you and not even get hungry.”

            “Very reassuring.”  Ignatius spoke for Moira as Moira pulled herself together and asked a question.

            “So where is my grandmother?”

            “Ah, that is a bit of a story.”  Macreedy spoke right up.  “She says she will see you in the night while we are on this journey.”

            Pumpkin interrupted.  “But during the day, she said you have to be stuck with us.”  Pumpkin sounded pleased with the idea.

            “Stuck is right,” Ignatius mumbled.

            “I don’t know why she used the word stuck.”  Macreedy spoke more thoughtfully.

            “Hush.”  Ellean hushed them both.  “The Great Lady just wants her granddaughter to have a chance to get to know us, that’s all.”

            “Being with the Lady’s granddaughter is next best to being with the lady herself.”  Prickles spoke up.

            “What about the lady’s daughter?”  Pumpkin asked.

            “Hush.”  Ignatius used Ellean’s word.  “You’ll give him a headache.”  And Prickles did look like he was thinking about that one rather hard.

            “I still think it would be better if we went invisible,” Macreedy said, grumpily.

            Ellean took Macreedy’s arm.  “Now, if we went invisible, how could we order lunch?”

            “I would like some lunch,” Prickles said.

            Moira rolled her eyes.  She imagined they would stay there all day talking if she let them.  “Come on.”  She turned and started to walk down the road, heedless of whether they followed or not.  Within the hour, the rain started to come down hard, and that dampened everyone’s spirits until a step van pulled over in front of them and the driver leaned out.

            “Need a ride?”  The driver shouted through the rain.  The whole group ran, and while they had to open the back doors to get Prickles inside, in short order they began to dry and feel much better.  Moira sat in the front with the driver and his cat that seemed content to stay curled up on the floor beneath the driver’s seat and who barely lifted an eyelid when the great crowd invaded the van.  “Mother.”  The driver called the cat, and the cat appeared to respond as if acknowledging her name.  “She goes with the van,” he said.  He pulled over to where a pub was lit up in the dreary day, beside the road.  “This is as far as I go.”

            “Oh.”  Moira was disappointed that it was not any further, but she prepared to get out when the driver stopped her.

            “No.  This is where I get out.  The lady who rented the van said she would see you in Eniskillen, and meanwhile she would not be far away.”  He smiled and slipped on his slicker.  He looked once at the crew in the back.  “I suppose you had better drive,” he said.  “Oh, and I almost forgot.  The Lady said you need to keep her purse.”

            “Eh?”  Moira took the big cloth and fringed bag which looked to her like some hippie bag and certainly not something she would carry.  She looked inside.  “But there’s only a rock in here.”

            “Aye,” the man said.  “The Lady called it Mary and said you should guard it because she was thinking of making it into a door knocker.”  He smiled again and hopped out.  He did not look back before he ducked into the pub.

            “The Lady is very thoughtful,” Ellean said.  The others all agreed.

            “Can I get little again?”  Pumpkin asked as soon as the man was out of sight.

            Moira paused and looked at her with strange thoughts going through her head.  “Why are you asking me?”

            “Because you are the Lady’s granddaughter,” Pumpkin said as if the answer was so obvious.

            “We can’t help it,” Macreedy explained.  “All of her Little Ones will defer to you.  It is sort of like breathing, you know, blood ties and all.  It makes you like a Princess of the realm.”

            “And for the sake of your father,” Ellean added.

            “I don’t know my father,” Moira said as she shifted into the driver’s seat.  The cat immediately jumped up into the passenger seat as if staking the claim before someone else came forward.  “Isn’t that right, Mother.”  Moira spoke to the cat, but the cat just licked her paw and said nothing.  “Alright, Pumpkin.  Just don’t fly around and distract me when I’m trying to drive this thing in the rain,” she said and started out on the road

            Lunch was a thing to behold.  Danna had stocked the van with sandwiches and a side of beef which kept Prickles happy even if he did start nibbling around ten.  Ignatius only wanted a flank steak, raw.

            “But I claim the bones,” Prickles said.  “I get all the bones.”

            “Fine, fine,” Ignatius agreed, but then Prickles would not let him cut his piece for fear that he would cut too much.  Macreedy finally had to draw out his knife and cut it, to which he said the hobgoblin owed him a plethora of divots, and Ellean giggled and Pumpkin asked how much was in a plethora, so Ellean had to explain while Ignatius kept repeating “Sim, Saladin,” and tipping his hat and Prickles was busy examining the beef to be sure no bones got cut, and that would have been fine except he was humming, and I don’t know if you have ever heard an ogre hum, but it isn’t comforting and it isn’t soft, and finally Moira had to yell.

            “Quiet!”  And there was quiet for a whole minute while she stuffed the turkey on whole wheat in her mouth as fast as she could.

            Moira came back to the table as soon as she was free, and as she sat, Danna gave her all her attention.

            “Tell me about you and Daniel,” she said, and that seemed to open things up.

            “We dated,” Moira said.  “I liked him.  Very much.  I don’t know how serious we were.  Now I’ll never know.”  And with that she cried, and Danna held her.

            “My mother died five years ago in just the same sort of… accident.”  Moira sniffed.  “I was just fourteen.  The sisters found me a good catholic home to live in, but as soon as I was old enough, I got my own room.  Oh, Grandma.”  She cried some more.  She was not exactly keening for the dead, but she did not have to 

###

            After they ate, Danna put Moira in the hands of Pumpkin and Ellean while she excused herself.  There was an old man at the bar she felt drawn to see.

            “I was wondering when you were going to get around to me,” The old man said as she took a seat.

            “So you know who I am, Matthew Mconough?”  Danna asked.

            The man shook his head without realizing that she certainly knew who he was.  “But when I first saw you, it was like a wee bell went off in my head.”

            “Ah,” Danna said.  She did not reveal anything in particular with that sound.  “And so here I am.  Now, what was the egg timer set for?”

            “Well.”  The man sat up straight and sipped his drink before he talked.  “I am a fisherman, you know.  I’ve worked all my life right near the docks where so many went to the Americas all those years ago, in case you’re a stranger to the facts.  From here I can go out to deep sea.”

            “You and many others.”  Danna nodded.

            The man shifted a little in his seat as if looking for a comfortable spot.  “Well, it’s like this.  I met a man once, only once mind you, only he wasn’t exactly a man.”  Mister Mconough leaned in close and spoke softly.  “He was big, and gray like a fish and green like the sea, and he had seaweed dripping for his clothes, and I was scared.  I don’t mind telling you that.  I was frightened half out of my mind.”

            “I don’t blame you.  He can be very frightening sometimes.”

            Matthew Mconough paused and let his eyes open plenty wide at her words.  He took a long draught of his beer.  “So you believe me then?”

            “Certainly,” Danna said.  “But I had the feeling that you have something to tell me.”

            The man took another drink.  “I do, I do.”  He took a third drink to empty the pint and wiped his upper lip with the back of his hand.  “It’s just… It did not make sense when he said it… just.  Another!”  He pointed to his empty before he turned and spoke quickly.  “He said when I see you I should say, Please don’t worry and don’t get excited.  He will be going over to the other side, soon.  Very soon.”

            “Uh-huh.”  Danna smiled, nodded and sounded like she did not believe a word of it.  “He has said that before, you know.”

            Matthew Mconough swallowed and tapped the bar.  “Be quick now.”  He called for his drink.  He swallowed again before he spoke, and Danna watched the old adam’s apple bob up and down in the fisherman’s throat.  “Would I be wrong in assuming that the man I met was Mannanan, the Old God of the sea?”

            “Son of Lyr and Pendaron, but he calls me Mother,” Danna confirmed.

            The man’s eyes got a bit bigger.  “And that would make you?”

            “The Don?”  Danna said.  “Danna, D’Anu, Dannan.”  She was offering him choices.  Different people in different places and different times called her by all sorts of different names.

            “Nevermind.”  Matthew Mconough yelled at the bartender and tipped his hat to Danna as he staggered out of the bar as fast as he could go and remain upright.

            Danna just smiled and thought, what a sweet old man 

###

            The following day, Danna found Moira down by the docks and without a word, sat quietly on the park bench beside her.  Moira said nothing for a while.  She just watched the river and the boats that plied the waters.  When the sun began to drop, she spoke, but it was as much to herself as to Danna.

            “I love the water.”

            “I know.  And there is one who can teach you all about the wind and the waves.”

            “One of your children?” 

Danna nodded before she spoke.  “A most disobedient child.  You know he no longer belongs here, and neither do I.”

            “I was raised a catholic.”  Moira looked at Danna for the first time.

            Danna nodded again.  “What need have you for my children?”  It was a rhetorical question.

            Moira examined this woman in every way she could, her perfect lines and perfect skin and honestly, everything about her that was perfect, before she spoke again.  “Who are you, really?”

            “Danna, your grandmother.”  Danna smiled.  “But I suppose the simplest way to put it is to say that I was the mother of the gods of the Celts.  All of my children and grandchildren called me Mother, and even the people who once ruled this land called me Mother.  When the children of Mil came and conquered the people in this land, all that changed, but I remain the mother of the gods.  Does this surprise you?”

            Moira looked again at the water before she spoke again.  “A little,” she said, and then she fell silent to reflect on what that revelation might mean.  When she opened up, she explained why she was not more surprised.  “I can do things that are supposed to be impossible.”

            “I bet you can do all sorts of things, if you are willing to learn.”

            Moira did not answer at first.  She was still thinking.  “I couldn’t save Daniel, though.”

            Danna nodded for a third time and took Moira’s hand to offer her comfort as she spoke.  “The first thing you must learn is that for us there are twelve commandments.”  Moira looked up.  “Eleven is to remember that people die.  Twelve is that even the gods are not permitted to change number eleven.”

            “That sounds hard,” Moira said.

            “It is not cruel to leave such decisions in the hands of the source.”

            “You mean God, I mean, you are taking about the real God, aren’t you?”

            Danna nodded yet again.  “But in the spirit realm we do not refer to him in that way.  It is hard for the spirits that dwell upon the earth because while the human race has received grace, the spirits still live in uncertainty.  But yes, the source decides and we are not to interfere.  Even so, it is sometimes very hard.”  Danna dropped her eyes and Moira was surprised.  Moira had not thought of it that way, and she felt compelled in her own spirit to give her grandmother a real hug before she stood.

            “Time for work,” she said.  “But I am just going to say thank you and to quit.”

            “You have plans?”

            Moira paused to dig her toe into the dirt before she spoke.  “Would you take me to my father?  Is he far away?”

            “Four days.”  Danna nodded for the final time.  “But he may ask you to help him in his work.”

            “Family business?”

            “Not exactly, but rather important work.”

            “Maybe we could just see him first,” she said, and Danna stood to return the hug.

            “We will leave in the morning,” she said, and let the girl go to close up her affairs and get ready to travel.

            “Cead mile failte, I’m Moira.”  That was all the girl got out before she began to stare through her tear reddened eyes.  She looked at each person around the table, one by one, with her mouth partly open until at last she came to look down on Danna.  “It’s you,” she said, and she fell to her knees and cried on Danna’s thigh where Danna could gently brush Moira’s hair and speak soothing words that only Moira could hear. 

            A man came quickly from the bar, but Danna spoke up before the man could say anything.  “It’s alright Mister Moran, I’m her grandmother.”  The man paused, not noting the absurdity of the statement since Danna barely looked older than the girl at her feet.  “Just bring me some bangers and mash and a pint of your local.  Ignatius, you need to order for Prickles.  There there.”  She went back to soothing Moira’s hair.

            After a very short while longer, Moira looked up at the angelic face above her and quickly got up and into a chair that had magically appeared between Danna and a truly lovely woman who Moira thought was something else.  She could not think about that just then, though, because one word kept echoing through her head.  “Grandmother?”

            Danna smiled.  “On your father’s side,” she said.  “He is my son, or grandson, or great-grandson, but I would rather not figure it out.  He calls me Mother.  Most of the children do, but in your case, I think I would not mind if you called me grandmother.”

            “But that is crazy talk.”  Moira drew a bit closer to the woman.  “You can’t be much older than myself.”

            “You can’t always judge by appearances,” Danna said, and she drew Moira’s attention to look again around the table.  Moira looked at Macreedy and Ellean who smiled for her.  They liked the girl already.  She squinted when she came to Prickles and Ignatius, and she had to look away.

            “It’s alright.”  Pumpkin took the girl’s hand.  “I can’t look at them either, especially when they are eating.”

            “What are they?”  Moria closed her eyes altogether and turned her head back toward Danna, though she willingly held on to Pumpkin’s hand.

            Pumpkin whispered.  “Patterwig is a spooky hobgoblin and Prickles is an ogre, but I think he is really a nice person if you give him a chance.”

            “And if he doesn’t eat you.”  Ignatius leaned into the conversation, having heard despite the whisper.  Pumpkin took her hand back to shove the goblin face.

            Moira shook her head and looked up at Danna.  “I don’t understand.  How can you be my grandmother?  I never knew my father, so how can you be so sure.”

            “But I know you.”

            “But you’re not old enough.”

            “I am nearly ninety,” Danna confessed.  “And by the Storyteller’s estimate, I was born in 3266 BC.”

            Moira scoffed.  She looked around and expected the same reaction from the others but the others accepted what this woman said without the least trouble.  “But you can’t.  Who is this Storyteller?”

            Danna paused before she nodded.  “No time like the present,” she said, and she put her hand on the table while she grasped Ellean’s hand with her other hand.  “Take my hand,” she told Moira.  The girl did so readily enough.  “Now don’t let go no matter what.  It is tradition.”  Ellean quickly nodded.  Moira was a little slower, but she also promised.  Then Danna went away from that time and place, and Glen arrived to sit in that pub, a long, long way from the university woods.

            Moira shrieked and let go, but she could not scream because Ignatius had leaned over Pumpkin again and slapped his hand over Moira’s mouth.  He quickly took it back when the danger was passed, and meanwhile, Ellean squeezed Glen’s hand in a sign of welcome home.

            “This is really my lifetime,” Glen said.  “I’m in the University in America and I should be home studying my psychology textbook, only right now I’m lending a few of my days so Danna can be with you.”  As he finished speaking, a bar maid came up with their drinks and she could not help but speak as she set them down.

            “Decided to take the night off after all, I see,” the girl said.  Moira took Glen’s hand which was still laid out on the table, and she took it almost without thinking, even as Glen let go of Ellean’s hand.

            “No, that’s not it,” Moira started to protest.

            “I’m her grandmother.”  Glen looked up at the girl and smiled.

            “Cheek.”   The girl looked right back at him.  “And with Daniel laid to rest just this very day.  What would he say?”

            Glen answered.  “He would say mind your own business and stop meddling in things you know nothing about.”  He raised his hand.  He thought maybe he could do it.  Danna set the glamour, but they were his little ones too, and sure enough, the glamour that disguised them all and made them look human lifted with his arm.  The girl from the bar screamed, and all the louder when she saw the ogre and the hobgoblin, and she ran off even as Glen put his hand down to bring back the glamour.  He went away again to let Danna come back into her seat.

            “Nosey, isn’t she,” Danna whispered to Moira whom she was pleased to see had not gotten the least bit upset on seeing the gang for what they really were.  Instead, she stifled a giggle at the absurdity of what just happened.  Of course, by the time the barkeeper came over, all was back to normal.  “I don’t know what she is on about,” Danna said.  “But after all that Moira’s been through this day, I think she needs a little time with family, don’t you think?”  And of course, Danna touched something in the man’s soul so he did think that.

            “Of course, dear Moira.  You take all the time you want.”  He turned to the girl.  “And you leave them alone!”

            “These are not the droids you are looking for,” Moira said.  “I saw Star Wars.”

            “Something like that.”  Danna smiled again.  “And didn’t you ever wonder why you could do things and see things that ordinary people could not?”

            “All the time,” Moira said, but she was distracted.  “But mother always insisted I act normal, no matter what.”  She got up.  There was a commotion at the front door.  Ian and Annie Thompson, Daniel’s parents came in with two other men.

            “I was told he would be here.”  Annie shouted while her husband tried to calm her.

            “Mister and Missus Thompson.”  Moira ran up to the couple at the same time as the bartender.  He was the one who spoke.

            “Even if Paddy was here, I wouldn’t tell you.  I have a business to run and I will not have any of that in here.  It belongs outside.”  Unfortunately, at that very moment, the elderly Paddy O’Kane came in the door with a half-dozen younger followers.  Annie Thompson turned on him.

            “How could you!”  She accused.  “My Daniel never did anything.  He never took sides.”  The woman wept and the old man was taken aback, but only for a second.

            “Casualties of war,” he mumbled, and to be sure, he did not say it very loud.  Meanwhile his six followers crowded Ian Thompson and his two friends.

            “Not a very fair fight,” Danna said as she stood.  “Gentlemen.”  She called her little ones that and compelled them to come, not that Prickles needed to be compelled to get into a fight.  “Macreedy, how is your fisticuffs?”  She asked.

            “I’m better at chess,” he admitted.

            “Don’t start anything.  Just don’t start anything.”  Moira yelled.

            “What do you expect to do here but make trouble.  You are all nothing but trouble.”  The bar maid from earlier stuck her nose into the middle of it and in her own way, egged them on.

            “Erin Megan O’Riley.”  Danna got the bar girl’s full attention.  “You need to stop speaking, and I think that should be for the rest of the night.  You can have your voice back in the morning.”

            Erin O’Riley wrinkled her nose, found her most snide expression, placed her hands on her hips and opened her mouth, but nothing came out.  Danna had already turned away from her and she had something more to say.

            “Paddy O’Kane, sit!”  The man immediately sat at the nearest table.  His eyes got big.  “Annie and Ian, as I said earlier, I am very sorry, but Annie, there are no answers here.”  She reached out and hugged the woman.  “Go home.  Please.”  She urged, and Annie began to weep in earnest as Ian caught her and moved her toward the door.  His friends tried to follow, but several of Paddy’s boys moved to block them.

            “Gentlemen.”  Danna remained calm as Moira became occupied with the Thompson’s for the moment.  “If anyone starts anything, I will end it.”

            The two with the Thompsons looked at each other like they did not like the odds, but one big man, the biggest of the lot stepped forward, like he was going to make their exit difficult whether this woman said to or not.

            “Er, Mike.”  Mister O’kane tried to get the big man’s attention, but the big man was determined to be stupid.

            “Have it your way.”  Danna shrugged.  “Prickles, don’t hurt him.”

            Prickles, a much bigger man than the big man stepped forward, and Mike almost had second thoughts, but at the last second he threw a punch.  It was a good swing, fast and it landed right on Prickles’ jaw.  Of course, the ogre did not even flinch, and in fact Mike pulled back his hand like maybe he busted it slamming it against a rock. 

            Prickles grinned and flicked his finger into the man’s chest.  That man flew backwards with such force, he took two others with him, and two slammed into the wall while the one on the end flew right out the door and just missed the Thompsons on the way.  Paddy’s other men scattered and took the big man and his compatriot with them.  The two friends of the Thompsons looked like they would rather not stick around, and left quickly.  Paddy also looked ready to leave, but Danna interrupted him.

            “Stay!”  She commanded, and the man found his seat glued to the chair and the chair glued to the floor.  While Ignatius and Macreedy escorted a very disappointed ogre back to his seat, and Erin the barmaid kept trying to talk, and the barkeeper examined his dented wall and Moira walked out with the Thompsons, Danna took a seat and stared at the man.  The man found he could not look this woman in the eyes, and he not only had to look away, but in fact he covered his own eyes and trembled. 

            “Every innocent life will be laid not only on your head, but on the head of your descendants even to the tenth generation,” she said.

            “Are you threatening me?”  The man asked without looking up.

            “No.  I am just reminding you of what you already know,” Danna said and she got up and walked back to her own table without looking back.  By the time an angry bartender came up to the table, Danna had reached into her purse and pulled out a small bag.  She partially dumped it on the table.  It was full of gold coins.  While the bartender watched, she scooped the coins up and put them back in the bag and handed the whole thing to the bartender.  “Open an inn or something.  Maybe a dozen rooms or so would be nice, only right now, we are a bit hungry if you don’t mind.”

            The man took the bag.  “Of course,” he said.  “Erin!”  He turned and walked back the way he came.

            On Sunday morning, Danna dressed her crew in their Sunday best and blinked them all to Londonderry.  Prickles was dressed in a glamour to look like a big man, albeit a very big man.  He still appearing nearly seven feet tall and with a build that would make a weightlifter jealous, but he looked like a man even if he tugged at his shirt and nearly tore the jacket, which is impossible to do with fairy weave.  Danna left off the tie. 

            Macreedy and Ellean looked like a happy couple.  Macreedy was still skinny, but not terminally so, and Ellean spent plenty of time in front of the mirror because she did not wear dresses very often. 

            Pumpkin, of course, needed no help, except to make her dress a bit longer and color it with a soft pastel and flower print.  Pumpkin could be big sized all on her own, and she was beautiful as fairies are, but she otherwise looked human enough.  She would not draw too many stares; at least not the kind that would question her humanity.  The trouble with Pumpkin was it was difficult for fairies to stay in their big size for long periods of time, so Danna would have to watch that. 

            Ignatius, last of all, looked like a grumpy fellow, which he was the minute he got a look at himself in the mirror.  “I look like a moron,” he said.

            “Mortal,” Pumpkin corrected.

            “Same thing,” Ignatius responded.

            Naturally, no one let Prickles see himself in the mirror for fear that he might think the glamour was real; so they arrived outside the church in full human appearance and went straight in to the service without incident.  Danna sat quietly and listened.  Prickles looked around and fidgeted some, but mostly tried to understand what was going on.  Ignatius kept his eyes closed and his fingers in his ears because he did not want to know what was going on.  Macreedy and Ellean became absorbed in each other and so missed everything for other reasons.  Surprisingly, Pumpkin sat quiet,  paid close attention an even sang the hymns – she had a sweet voice – and lowered her head during the prayers.

            “Of course,” she whispered to Danna.  “I went to Mass all the time with Michael Henry.”

            “First of all, this isn’t Mass.  This is a protestant service.  And second of all, Casidy did not go to church all the time.”  Danna whispered back.

            “True.”  Pumpkin grinned, slightly.  “But I went often enough to know what to do.” 

            Danna said no more.  After the service, she went up to a woman, a complete stranger, and she gave the woman a hug.  “I’m so sorry,” she said.  Then she hugged the man who stood beside the woman and repeated herself.  “I’m so sorry.”  Lastly, she came to the young woman with the red hair and green eyes and hugged her as well, and especially hard, but with different words.  “Be strong, my daughter.  I will see you later.”  And without any explanation or introducing any member of the group with her, she turned and walked away.  The others followed her to a pub where they had a fine lunch, once Danna got the cook to manage several steaks tartar. 

            Macreedy was the one who finally broke the ice with his question.  “So who were those people and what was that all about?”

            “A ritual repeated far too often these days in this hard and intolerant place,” Danna responded as she pushed her salad around.

            “So who was that woman?”  Ellean tried her luck.

            “Annie.  One of thousands who cry in the night and have no answers.”  Danna responded.

            There was silence for a minute before Pumpkin spoke.  “So who was the girl?  I like her.  She seems nice, but sad.”

            “Red hair and green eyes,” Danna said with a slight smile.  The Fee were very empathic, sometimes to their detriment.  “A good combination for a good Catholic girl.”

            “Oh!”  Pumpkin pulled in her breath.  “Then she should have been at Mass, no?”

            “Special occasion.”  Danna let out her smile, but then she said no more.

            After another time of silence, Ignatius spoke up.  “I’ll bite.  My turn.  So you sensed this all the way across the earth when you first filled the Lord’s place.  Right?”

            “This and other things.”  Danna responded.  “Did you think Gwyn looked better when we left?”  She asked a question of her own.

            “Oh, yes.”  Everyone agreed, but it was really a matter of opinion.  Finally, everyone looked at Prickles, something they normally could not have done while he was eating, but Danna had been careful to cover up Prickles with a strong glamour just for the occasion.  Prickles stopped in mid-bite, not to say he ate anything much in pieces, and he looked at face after face before he spoke. 

            “These shoes are comfortable,” he said.  He was not wearing any shoes, but he saw the glamour and thought he was, and he was rather proud of that fact, never having worn shoes before.

            After lunch, they all trooped back to the church.  It was 2:30 and time for the funeral.  The man and woman that Danna had hugged were in the front row, and the girl was right there with them.  The girl cried a little.  The woman never really stopped crying.  Everyone who got up to speak said what a fine young man Daniel was and how he never meant ill to anyone.  They said that he deserved better than he got and how the violence had to stop.  They said that only the innocent were suffering and the guilty needed to be caught and punished.  Some of the speakers sounded militant about it, and Danna could only imagine going to the Catholic church in a week for another funeral.  She shook her head.

            Moira, the girl with the red hair and the green eyes noticed them sitting in the back, but she stayed with the couple and went with them to the cemetery while Danna led her troop to the waterfront.  There was a place there where they could get three rooms.  Macreedy and Ignatius got one room with twin double beds and the threat that if they did not get along the offending party would have to sleep with Prickles.  Prickles got the center room, and they pushed the two double beds together to make one big bed for the monster.  Danna, Ellean and Pumpkin got the third room which also had two double beds, but Danna knew that Pumpkin would get little again as soon as she had a chance and would only need a pillow for the night.  In fact, Danna took them up to see the rooms specifically so Pumpkin could have some time fluttering about, while she wrote and posted a letter to a friend of hers on the continent.  Then she sat out on a bench that overlooked the river and minded her own business until the others finally came to find her.

            “I’m hungry.”  Prickles summed things up nicely, and so Danna led them to Iona House, a fine place that was right on the water.  She knew exactly where to seat them, in the corner in the back, and she knew exactly what they needed to entertain them so they would not get into trouble.  She also made sure Moira was their waitress.

            “Where are we?”  Pumpkin asked.  She sat on Danna’s shoulder and played with Danna’s hair as she looked around.  Wherever they were, it was dark, not like six in the evening, but more like midnight.

            “The old homestead,” Danna said.  She looked around at the scattered hills which were actually mounds built up over a long period of time.  “Sorry.  I have Casidy on the mind.  We are at Cathair Crothind; or Cathair na Ri to be more precise, or Temhair-an-ri as they might say these days.”

            “Where?”  Ellean looked around as well, but this was all new territory to her.

            “Tara.  In Ireland”  Ignatius spoke before Macreedy could explain.

            “Ireland,” Macreedy said with a hard stare at the hobgoblin.  “This is the ancient home of the Celtic Gods.”

            “The grass is nice and soft,” Prickles said, not wanting to be left out.

            “But what are we doing here?”  Pumpkin was just full of questions.

            “Visiting an old friend.  My grandson.”  Or great-grandson, or something like that, Danna thought.  She waved her hand and a door tall enough for a giant appeared in the mist of the night.  “Now be good and doff your hats,” she instructed, and they followed her inside.

            “Gwyn!”  Danna called out immediately as they came into a grand entrance hall.  She ran her fingers across a marble table and felt the dust.  Macreedy’s daughters, the sisters of the only son of Macreedy were gone, the last passing away when Danna lived as Michelle Marie and tried to bring peace and save lives during the madness they called the French Revolution.  “That was two hundred and ten years ago, or more.”  She mumbled and looked at the son of, son of, son of Macreedy who had Ellean by the arm and was looking around like a tourist at the Louvre.  “Gwyn!”  Danna called again and thought the poor man had been all alone those two hundred years.

            “Shall we look for him?”  Ignatius asked, and after a moment of thought, Danna nodded.

            “Macreedy and Ellean, would you search the rooms of arrival where the labyrinths bring my little ones.  They may be closed off, since that mode of travel is not used much these days, since the Isle of the Apples and some others of the innumerable Isles have been cut off from access to this place.  Pumpkin, do you remember where the docks are?”

            “Yes, Lady,” Pumpkin responded, but she had to scrunch up her face to remember, exactly.

            “You might check there and tell Lord Gwyn his mother wishes to see him.”

            “Yes, Lady.”  Pumpkin fluttered off down one of the five halls that lead off the foyer room.

            “Ignatius Patterwig.”  Danna looked at the hobgoblin for a moment while Ignatius licked his lips with a tongue that was too snake-like for words.  “Can you search the visitors halls and the great hall without getting into trouble.

            Ignatius pretended offence.  “Lady, I am yours to command.”

            “Perhaps,” Danna said.  “Just don’t think that out of sight is out of mind.”  She dismissed the hobgoblin and turned to the ogre.

            “Prickles, you had better stay with me.  All of my Little Ones are traditionally welcome here, including ogres, trolls and the like, but I don’t want anything untoward to happen in case you should startle him.”

            “I should stay with you.”  The ogre grasped that much.

            “Be a good boy and I will get you something to eat,” Danna said, and the ogre grinned at the thought of eating, and it was a grin that was so horrific, Danna herself could hardly hold on to her stomach.  “Gwyn!”  She called again to distract herself and started down the hall to the living quarters.

            Danna found Gwyn in the library where the walls were filled with thousands of books and there was a great, roaring fire in the fireplace to provide heat against the October chill.  Gwyn was dressed in a rich red dressing gown, his feet in slippers, and he sat in high backed, plush armed comfy chair that was red velvet, the same color as his robe.  “Hush.”  She quieted the ogre, because Gwyn was asleep, and as she stepped quietly to him a precious tear formed in the corner of her eye.  Gwyn’s blond hair that once shone like the very brightness of the sun was gray and scraggily.  His gray beard was far too long and fell to his protruding belly, a sure sign of a man who had let himself go.

            Danna bent down to tenderly brush that hair out of Gwyn’s eyes, and Gwyn stirred.  He pulled the little bit of drool back in and sat up straight while he tried to get his eyes opened and focused.

            “Mother?”  He spoke in a voice that was dry.

            “I am here,” Danna said softly while the man pulled himself together.  All of her children, grandchildren, great-grands and on called her mother, and that was always fine with her since great-great-great grandmother made her feel so old.  She wanted to say so much to Gwyn, but she just smiled for him, and that was enough.

            “I see you brought one of your Little Ones with you.”  Gwyn looked up at the big ogre who was trying to fathom what all the things were that were stacked so neatly in shelves along the wall.  He wondered if they might be edible.

            “I brought several,” Danna said.  “You remember Pumpkin, don’t you?”

            “Yes.”  Gwyn brightened for a second before he scowled.  “That little thing was always flittering about.”  Then he smiled again.  “But she was good company.”

            Danna also smiled and watched Gwyn rock in the chair in the attempt to get to his feet before she finally helped him up.  “And Macreedy.”

            “Not.”

            “No, son of, son of, and so on.”

            “Of course.”  Gwyn walked slowly to the mantle over the fireplace where he had a pipe.  “I remember Macreedy walking with Pwyll over to the other side with those three men.”

            “My old master, Pelenor and his two friends.  Yes, I was Gerraint in those days.”

            “I remember,” Gwyn said, and he stuck the pipe in his teeth, but only to chew on it.  He did not light it.  “And who are you now?”  He asked.

            “Glen,” Danna said.  “But he will have to wait a little longer before he can rest from his very busy day.  I have work to do.”  She swatted the back of the red velvet chair and caused a dust storm.  “I have much work to do.”  She looked at the old man.

            Gwyn broke free of his memories to meet her eyes.  “Me?”  He shook his head.  “I am fine.  I just feel so tired all the time, that’s all.”  He lit his pipe and Danna stepped to a table to see what books were open there.

            “I was thinking of a young woman,” she said.  “She should be nearly twenty now.”

            “Moira?”  Gwyn asked.  “It was just a fling.  That’s all.”  He spoke offhandedly and tried to show a devil-may-care attitude.

            “I believe you called it one last fling,” Danna said.

            “Mother.”  Gwyn still smiled for one brief moment before his countenance dropped.  “None of us could ever hide anything from you.”

            “Hmm.”  Danna let some quiet thoughts pass through her mind before she clapped her hands.  “Everyone here.”  She spoke, and Macreedy and Ellean, Ignatius and Pumpkin appeared altogether.  Pumpkin shot immediately into Danna’s hair.

            “Who is that old man?”  Pumpkin asked.

            “Gwyn,” Danna said the word and Gwyn looked sad for a second before he made himself visibly brighten. 

            “Dear Flutterbug.  Good to see you again.”

            Pumpkin gasped and fluttered right up to Gwyn’s face.  “But you’re so oldy,” she said.

            “Young enough to know a flutterbug when I see one.  But I thought you were in big trouble.  Has it been a hundred years already?”

            Pumpkin said no more.  She just flew up to the old man and gave his cheek a little fairy kiss, and tried not to cry.

            “Ignatius Patterwig.”  Danna got their attention.  “Please take Prickles to the kitchens and see what there is to eat.  Prickles, do not eat the hobgoblin.  Ellean, would you see if there is any food for the rest of us.”  Ellean bowed slightly.  “Oh, and Prickles, don’t eat the elf either.”

            “Don’t eat the people.”  Prickles nodded.  “I know that.  I remember what you said, you said don’t eat people.”

            “Very good.”  Danna reached up and scratched the ogre under the chin where the mold gets bad and his big, hammy hands cannot reach.  The ogre responded like a puppy and slapped his foot against the floor a couple of times.  “Go on,” she said.

            Gwyn spoke after they were gone.  “Patterwig, son of Coriander Patterwig?”  Danna and Macreedy nodded.  “I admired the father.  Too bad it was a hopeless cause trying to bring order and discipline to a bunch of ornery hobgobs.  I’ll say, though, we could have used him back…”  Gwyn stopped cold.  “Here, I am even sounding like an old man.  I’m sorry.”

            “Me too,” Pumpkin said softly.

            “Macreedy, how’s your chess?”  Danna changed the subject.

            “Quite good, actually”

            “I guessed,” Danna said, and she waved her hand after her fashion.  The books on the table went back to their places on the shelf and a chessboard appeared on the table, set and ready to go.

            “But I haven’t played almost since Pwyll.”  Gwyn did not finish his thought.

            “It’s like riding a bicycle,” Macreedy encouraged him.  “Once you learn, you never really forget.”

            “And what are we going to do?”  Pumpkin asked.

            “We are going to stay the night, and tomorrow we are going to spring clean.”

            “But, isn’t it fall?”

            “Then we will fall clean tomorrow, but Sunday we have to go to church early in the morning.”  Danna did not have to see to know the little fairy nose was turned up at the idea of going to church.  “We will be gone a week or so.  You will be here when we get back, won’t you?”

            “Eh?”  Gwyn looked up.  “Yes, Mother.  I think I still have a few good years in me.  I am not in any hurry.”  He looked back down at the board.  It was his move.

            “Mrs. Kettleblack.”  Danna called and clapped her hands like before.  A very elderly dwarfish-gnomish-impish sort of woman appeared, and after getting her bearings, she bowed as well as her old frame allowed.  Mrs. Kettleblack cooked for the Castle of the Kairos for nearly five hundred years before she retired.  “Mrs. Kettleblack.  I hate to pull you from a well earned rest, but I was wondering if you would mind watching my son while I am away.  He needs three squares, and good food, no more fast food.”

            “Lady, it would be my pleasure.  I was getting antsy in my rocker with no one to cook for.” 

            Danna just smiled because she knew that already, and she also knew that old Mrs Kettleblack could be good company for an old man.  “Thank you,” she said and as Mrs. Kettleblack wandered down the halls toward the kitchens, Danna sat in the dusty chair and thought about how Glen really needed a good night’s sleep.  Pumpkin yawned in her ear, but Danna herself would just have to wait and sleep tomorrow.