"Are you ready Harry?"

"I am Grandda. Just like we planned. I'll make the farthings disappear into your pocket. We'll amaze the people at the fair."

Robbie O'Connor winked at his great-grandson. An impish smile spread over his face. The lad had hardly grown over the last three years. Now ten-years-old he still had the same charismatic smile, and brilliant green eyes. If you looked closer, you could see they were every shade of green and as variable as his moods. Today they were sharp lime in color. He recalled his single taste of the exotic fruit as he prepared his table.

"Shall I put the coin pot on the ground. I can keep it safe if we put it at the corner behind the pole."

Harry held the plain clay vessel they used to collect the pennies which patrons would drop in approval of their entertainment.

"Aye don't let it get too full. Thieves are common. Many are desperate."

"I'm glad I've learned to conserve my energy. Grammie's sweet tea is enough to sustain me now," Harry said.

"I see that you are better with each performance."

"Thank you, Grandda. I wonder if I will be able to use this skill for more someday?"

"As you get to know more of the magic family in the world they will come to rely on your services. You will become stronger, and your reach will extend across countries and continents."

Robbie smiled. Harry worked hard. His help during potato harvest was incredible. His sister Erin showed small glimmers of magic as well. Plants thrived. Her flowers were sought after by the English gentry who ruled Ireland.

The southern tip of Ireland escaped the direct consequences of the war raging on the European continent. The involvement of the Japanese brough a new phase of fighting for the Americans. D-day on the coast of France was a success and Hitler was retreating on all fronts.

"Will Papa come home?"

Harry's wistful question echoed his deep worry. Ronan was still a prisoner, four long years after he was captured. Hopefully, his skill for prediction wasn't known. The Nazi's were well known to kill anyone who didn't fit into their Third Reich utopia.

"Your Papa will come home. He was lucky. Captured as he was, and with his ability to see what is coming, he will be safe. He and anyone he might have close to him." Robbie sighed, a long low whisper of breath.

"Lucky? I suppose. At least he isn't getting shot at, or having horrible fumes to breathe. I want him home. Mama misses him."

Harry put the clay pot down beside the wooden pole which held the bright red canvas above their heads along with two others forming a triangle in the corner where two wings of the church met. Robbie loved the priest here. A practical man, Father Peter knew all work and no play made for very tired people. The fair and market at the church happened on the last Saturday of every month.

"Here come the boys. The ones who always try to cause trouble, Grandda."

"I see them. We're ready, aren't we?"

"We are. Same things as last month?"

Robbie nodded his head and started his patter.

"Watch the farthing, can you guess? Where will it go, where will it fly?"

>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>

"Auntie Ceili, is Uncle Tommy really home?

"He is."

Her aunt's face wasn't happy. What was wrong?

"What's wrong. And is he right, is my papa coming home too?" Gaia clutched herself in a hopeful hug.

"We haven't had word about Liam yet, child."

"You can't make me give up hope. I know Papa will come home. I can't wait to feel him hug me."

"Keep the faith, dear. I'm sure he will come home. Some of our men were captured, and escaping the prisons isn't an easy thing. Even if the war is over, there are still places where the fighting is fierce. Your Uncle Tommy has many a sad story to tell."

They were sitting in the kitchen of Murphy's pub. Cardamon was banging pots and pans as he grumbled about the state of the potatoes he was mashing. It surprised everyone when he took to cooking like a fish to water. His voice changed just last month, and still cracked to his higher boy's soprano every now and then.

"I feel the dead on him, Auntie."

Gaia dropped onto the stool beside the long counter where Cardamon started to chop vegetables and mushrooms for shepherd's pie.

"I think he carries them with him. It weighs on him," Ceili admitted.

"I'll tell them to go then. I can hear them when I close my eyes."

"I'm not sure he wants to let them go. He feels such a burden. I'm not sure I should even be talking to you about this. You shouldn't have to worry about this."

Gaia stood up and went to stand beside her aunt. Already as tall as her, she hugged her and laid her cheek next to Ceili's.

"They don't blame him. He's a soldier. It was his job," she whispered.

"Try to tell Tommy that."

"He has to let them go."

>>>>>>>>>>>>

Gaia peered out of her window into the misty morning dew. The green fields with their low stone wall dividers glimmered with diamond drops. Sheep grazed in the meadow next to their house, and dairy cattle were lowing as they walked toward the barn to be milked. A tall, loose- limbed man walked down the lane way. Where was he going?

Gaia stopped brushing her hair to take another look.

"Mama! Mama!"

"Quiet girl, you'll wake the dead."

"Mama, you have to look. I think Papa is coming home."

Gaia ran into her mother's room and tugged her by the hand. Pulling her down the stairs and out the door in the front yard. Squeezing Aine's fingers hard, she dropped them before sprinting out through the archway in the yew hedge.

"Papa, is it really you?"

Gaia stumbled to a halt in front of the man who looked like her Papa but not. He was skinny. Her own arm was thicker than his, with the muscles she toned working in the vegetable gardens and chasing sheep for the farmer across the fieldstone wall.

"Gaia?"

His voice was harsh, like he hadn't spoken in a very long time. Gaia's eyes filled and she trembled. She couldn't breathe and she gasped for air as her mother came up behind her. Her father's arms folded around her reaching for his wife and drew them into his hug. She felt them shaking, tears flowing as she reached up to brush her own off her cheeks.

"Papa, you're home."

Liam Murphy didn't speak another word, simply held her and her mother like he would never let go. The sun rose over the hedge touching the back of her arms before she wiggled out from between her parents. Papa brought the dead with him as well. Whispering souls who wanted to cross. She grabbed his hand and moved toward the house. Leading the way, she guided Liam and Aine up the stairs and into their room. When they settled on the mattress with their arms around each other, she backed away and closed the door.

Gaia ran out and down through the hedge racing across the next field she hopped up on the stone wall running along the top until she came to her Uncle Tommy's cottage. Cardamon was standing on the front stoop as she arrived.

"Cousin, you have to help them. They're so broken." She threw herself into his welcoming arms.

"I'll have to study them for a bit," Cardamon warned.

"Hurry please. The ghosts who came with them need to move to the other side."

"It takes time to heal a soul, Gaia."

She made a face at him when he released her.

"It doesn't mean I have to like it."