"When is Papa coming home? Harry asked.

Sorcha sighed. The same question at the same time everyday since she hear Ronan had been captured. At least he was alive, but the stories of the Stalags prison camps were horrifying. Harry, with his impish attitude and miniature stature, was his father's double in a twisted sort of way.

His black wavy hair was his crowning glory and she let it grow longer than it should. His emerald green eyes gleamed mischief, yet he did his chores faithfully. Erin never complained that he missed any eggs in the hen house, and the rows of potatoes she planted in their kitchen garden were weed free. Harry's tiny hands never seemed to tire. At seven, he was only three feet tall. A dwarf as his father declared at his birth.

"Your father will be back when the Allies defeat Hitler and his Gestapo devils."

"You say that every day, Mama."

"Because it's the truth. Papa is a prisoner in Germany."

"I'll find a way to rescue him then," Harry declared as he did every time they had this conversation.

"Now, it's time to gather the eggs. I hope we have enough to sell at the market this week."

Harry grabbed the deep basket from the stool beside the door. He was gone in a flash his short legs flashing as he ran. The weather was holding warm this fall and she hoped the peat she had would last the winter.

"Mama!"

"What Erin?"

"I know how Harry is getting those eggs. He's using magic."

"Don't be telling me a fib, Erin. He's too young to be showing signs yet."

"Really, Mama. Come with me, you can watch too. He stands in the middle of the chicken house and the eggs appear in the basket without him ever touching the hens." Erin tugged at her hand and she followed her daughter.

The door to the coop was ajar, and she peered around the corner to watch. Eggs were piling up in Harry's basket exactly as his sister said.

"I'll have to write your Grandda, Erin. You were right to tell me. He's using his powers as easily as he breathes, but there is much to learn."

"It's not fair. Those chickens peck me, and the rooster chases me. Harry just walks in and they sit there and let him steal their eggs. I'm never doing the eggs again, Mama!" Erin's voice was shrill with her annoyance and the rooster responded by crowing and running at the wire mesh fence attached to the corner of the coop.

Erin jumped back, and the door squeaked as she bumped into it, setting off a cackling cacophony of upset brooding hens.

"Hush, child. You don't have to do the eggs anymore. Or the weeding, as I expect Harry is using his magic to do the job there as well. It explains how tired he is afterward." Sorcha shook her head. How had she missed the signs?

She didn't have a drop of magic in her, but she knew more than one who did. And she knew enough to keep their secret safe. Now her tiny son was showing a burgeoning ability at only seven years of age. Usually it didn't happen until puberty and with the boys when their voice broke.

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

"Grandda, what makes me so tired? I always want to sleep after I use my magic."

Harry looked across the table as the white haired man he loved so much. He barely remembered his father, but Grandda was always there. He was small like him, except his limbs were awkwardly bent and thick where he was just small. Tiny in fact.

Robbie O'Connor scratched his head.

"Harry, there is a concept called conservation of energy. Something you will learn about in your later years in school. Magic requires energy which is why you are tired. The bigger the spell, or ability, the more energy. It will come easier as you grow older, and with some of the things I will teach you."

Harry's mouth turned down.

"More lessons? I don't like school. The teacher doesn't like me. He says I belong in a circus side show. He thinks I'm stupid."

The quiver in the child's voice broke Robbie's heart. This talented amazing boy was already learning one of the hardest lessons in life.

"But these lessons will be with me. Will you come home with me? For only a few weeks?"

Robbie wanted the answer from Harry. Getting help for Sorcha to replace him on her small vegetable farm was secondary. He had more than one descendant who would step in.

"Will I still be able to read my books from school? I'm way ahead of where Master O'Keefe says. He's boring."

"Bring them with you. I have someone in mind who will come to us to tutor you."

"What about Mama? I can't leave her. The hens will be so angry. Erin will be hurt. They will peck her, and the rooster is so horrible."

Harry's heart is in the right place. His concern is admirable.

Robbie nodded his head.

"One of your many cousins will come to help. In fact, perhaps two. I will arrange it. You're only problem is to decide whether or not you want to come to learn with me."

A smile bloomed on Harry's off kilter face, lighting it with joy. His right cheek bone considerably lower than left and gave him a gargoyle like visage. His emerald green eyes gleamed.

"I am not a freak anymore?"

"No, Harry. Your teacher is the freak. You never were."

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

"How is it she can draw like this when I can't see it in our lessons?"

Aine smiled quietly before she answered the artist who worked for the Garda. Gaia's drawings had found more than one on their list of missing and lost.

"She's a rare one. The gift is Goddess given. When she finishes a picture, she sleeps for most of a day. When she isn't in a trance, she can't draw any better than any other child her age."

She watched his face as the expressions flitted across it. Disbelief was probably chief among them, but the proof was in the village chief's filing cabinet. Seven found since Maeve. The cost to Gaia was brutal.

"I see you question my sanity." Aine shook her head.

The artist nodded.

"Have you had contact with the Fae before? Our Chief considers Gaia a treasure."

"I'm sorry, ma'am. I do to. I'm just trying to wrap my head around her abilities. I hope she can continue."

"That's my hope as well," Aine agreed. "Will you keep her secret?"

"Along with the rest of this village, of course. You are lucky to live in such a wonderful place. Gaia needs to be protected. I'll make sure to do my part. Your Chief was quite clear. He just wanted me to confirm it is her magical ability to speak to the dead at work here."

Aine groaned. She would have it out with Chief O'Reilly. He should have warned her. Grinding her teeth, she wondered if she should bite her tongue and decided it would be best.

"Before you go and yell at Chief O'Reilly, it had to be this way. Warning you would make the results of my little test useless. Chief told me he would hide Gaia from the world as best he can. I hope she lives a long and wonderful life."

Aine nodded.

"You caught me thought. Perceptive, aren't you?" Thanks for explaining."

She stood and pushed her chair back from the kitchen table. Gaia's stick figure drawings were laying between her and the puzzled man.

"You have allies, Aine Murphy. We'll do our best to keep her safe."

He rose to head for the kitchen door.

"Thank you! You're welcome at Murphy's pub."

"I'll remember that."