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right to it, doesn’t she! “I care a lot about her,” he answered honestly.

“Uh-huh. In the century you came from, how old were people usually when they got married?”

He frowned – why was she asking about marriage? “Married? I’m not really sure. I was only eight when I left, but I think maybe, um, well, my parents were pretty young, or at least that’s the impression I get when I look back. . .I’d guess about my age now, seventeen or so.”

“That’s what I thought.” She gnawed on her lower lip for a second or two. “You do realize that in today’s culture, seventeen or so is way too young to be getting serious with a member of the opposite sex, much less contemplating marriage.”

Cian put his head to one side, starting to understand what she was getting at. “Are you suggesting that I’m going to run off and marry Celeste sometime soon?”

“I don’t know – you tell me.”

He laughed, relieved that this was all she was worried about. “Of course not! Mrs. Kelly, I’ve only now started figuring out who I am and why I’m here. The last thing I need is the responsibility of being a husband! This isn’t my century, so I don’t even know what kind of work I could do to support a wife and family, and I’ll not be getting married until I can offer my future wife a house, an income, and the ability to keep both.”

Eileen visibly relaxed, but only a bit. “That’s good to hear. But what about Celeste? Do you want to go out with her?”

This was, he suspected, another of those this-century phrases. “Um, go out where?”

Her first impulse was that he was being a smart-mouth, but then she remembered his origins, and how sheltered he’d been during the six years in that foster home, and almost laughed. “No, hon, it’s an expression that means ‘date.’ Do you want to date her?”

Now he was totally confused. “Do I want to guess her age?”

This time, Eileen couldn’t contain herself, and burst out laughing, but it wasn’t a mean sound, and she apologized through the gales of hilarity.

Cian sat quietly, waiting for her to regain control. He decided then that he would stop trying to answer her expressions, and instead wait until she said something he did understand.

“Oh, I am so sorry,” she said again, wiping her eyes. “Look, let me see if – okay, you say you care very much about Celeste, right?”

He nodded.

“Well, that probably means you’d like to spend more – a whole lot more – time with her, correct?”

He nodded again.

“Well, in our culture, when a boy spends a lot of time with one particular girl, it’s called ‘dating.’ Do you understand?”

His expression cleared and he smiled. “Oh, you mean courting!”

She heaved a sigh of relief, trying to ignore the way her heart had started fluttering when he’d smiled like that. “Exactly. Because her father and I don’t think she’s old enough for, for courting. Now, if you want to go out to the movies or supper or something with her and a group of her friends, that’s fine. But you can’t be alone with her for any length of time, at least not until she’s eighteen.” Had he not been so isolated from society for the previous six and a half years, she would have felt confident he knew exactly what she meant by “alone,” but before she could make sure, they were interrupted.

“Mother!” Celeste stomped into the room wearing a pair of black slacks and a white mohair sweater with iridescent sequins around the collar and cuffs. “Good grief, would you please stop!” In her hands, Celeste carried a fistful of bobby-pins, her hair spilling down her back and over her shoulders.

Cian stopped breathing.

“Celeste,” Eileen said, her tone of warning unmistakable. “You know the rules in this house.”

“Yeah, but don’t make him think it’s like that in general. I mean, most of the kids I know started going out with each other in the fifth grade!” She looked at Cian, to see his reaction to that bit of information. “Uh, Cian?” He was staring at her in a way that made her blush furiously.

He blinked and looked away. “Sorry,” he mumbled. “I never saw you with your hair . . .like that.” He swallowed hard.

“Ha!” Mrs. Kelly exclaimed. “That’s what I’m talking about! It’s obvious you’re totally taken by her. Not that I blame you, of course. She’s absolutely beautiful – ”

“Mom!”

“Mrs. Kelly, let me explain something to you.” He stood up and started pacing. “The first time I ever even saw a girl my age who wasn’t Retta – my, uh, foster-sister – was in a celebrity magazine. After that, I was institutionalized – wait, that sounds wrong. My being put in the Marcus Institute had nothing to do with the magazine, okay? What I’m trying to say is that, uh, why are you both laughing?”

“I think I understand what you’re trying to say,” Eileen managed, leaning weakly against the counter, holding her side. “Girls are something new to you, right?”

“Mom, it really isn’t fu-funny.” Celeste went hysterical again.

Looking stricken, the boy sat down once more, turned his back on them, elbows on the table, and buried his head in his hands.

And he’d thought a battle with Moloch was going to be the roughest thing he’d be facing! “T t? glan as do mheabhair,” he muttered to himself quietly.

“Did you just curse in Irish?” Mrs. Kelly asked, beginning to experience a touch of guilt.

He lowered his hands and stared at the wall. “No, I told myself I was crazy.”

“Uh, Mom, Mr. C. is going to be here any minute, so, uh, could you braid my hair and put it up, please?” Celeste’s own guilt was fighting with her sense of humor, but she could see it was making Cian feel bad, so she decided to get serious and drop the whole subject of her relationship with him – and hoped her mother would do the same.

“Yeah, sure.” She took a hairbrush from the drawer on the other side of the kitchen and told Celeste to sit at the table.

While her hair was being done, Celeste, who had taken the chair at the head of the table, studied the boy’s profile as he forced himself not to look at her. It had occurred to her during this weird conversation that of all the boys she knew, Cian was probably the safest to be with. For one thing, he’d shown himself ready to defend her, and after seeing him in combat with the Archangel, knew he was certainly strong and capable enough. Not only that, but she’d never known any guy who’d displayed so much respect. And she sensed that if her father told him he could go out with her but couldn’t, like, touch her or anything other than a quick goodnight kiss, he’d honor his wishes. Now, if she could only convince her mother of all that –

When Croghan arrived, Celeste’s hair was pinned up, Cian had recovered most of his composure, and Mrs. Kelly had decided to drop the subject of dating – at least for the time being.

“Are we ready?” he asked briskly the moment he entered the front hall.

“Yup.” Celeste had already pulled her coat from the closet, and Cian hadn’t bothered to take his – Mr. Kelly’s, actually – off the whole time he’d been there.

“Where’s Katie?”

“She had to go home first. Is it okay if we pick her up on the way?” Celeste opened the door. “Her Mom never lets her come over here right after school – something about making sure she’s got her homework planned out.” She shrugged.

“No worries.” Croghan gave her a smile and they started out the door.

“When did you say you’d have them back?” Eileen asked casually.

“Oh, in about a year and an hour,” he replied, giving her a lopsided grin.

“A year!” the two teens exclaimed at the same time.

“Oh, no,” Eileen groaned. “You two are starting to sound like you and Katie.”

“Yeah, Katie says we’ve been doing that a lot lately,” Celeste admitted, looking shyly up at Cian.

Eileen tapped her foot for a second, arms crossed. “I think I need an aspirin,” she told them, and headed back toward the kitchen. “No later than five!” she called over her shoulder as they headed out.

SEVEN

 

Mrs. Grandol had given Katie almost the identical command. Without actually lying, Katie had implied that she and Celeste were still working on the same school project she believed they had been doing the first time Croghan had taken them to the Hub. But school work or not, Katie had to be home for supper, no arguments allowed.

Getting into the museum this time was both easier and harder than before. Because the seaport was open to tourists at this hour, they were able to go in with no explanations – although Croghan did have to pay the parking and admission fees. The hard part came when they were inside the building itself.

With crowds of school children wandering in and out of every room, there was little opportunity to open the trap door without being seen.

Finally, feeling somewhat desperate, Croghan took off his coat, handed it to Cian, and told him and the girls to go wait by the far left wall where no one could see them from the doorway of the room. Then he stood blocking the entrance, faced an approaching class and announced, “Sorry, folks, this room is temporarily closed; someone may have seen some rats, and we’ve called an exterminator.”

There were the expected shrieks from the girls and the teacher quickly ushered her charges to a room at the far end of the hall.

Croghan watched until the last student had disappeared, then hastened to the trap door, all but flung it open, and then the four of them went as swiftly as they could down the wooden steps without making any noise, closing the trap door securely overhead.

When they reached the Hub, Celesta and Michael were already there, standing close and talking earnestly to each other. Upon the approach of the Keeper and the teens, the two angels turned, their expressions disturbingly serious. The greetings were as warm and sincere as before, but a lot shorter.

“We have much to do,” Michael told them, beckoning them to sit on the grass, “and much to say. Cian, have you retained your new knowledge of the Laws?”

“I have,” he said immediately.

“Good. Celeste, do you remember all the Songs and all the words?”

“Yes, sir.”

“And Katie, have you retained enough of their knowledge to help either one – especially Celeste – if they stumble?”

“I have. It’s almost all I’ve been thinking about.”

“Excellent.” Michael turned to Celesta. “I think we are ready. I will take the boy and start teaching him about the Words, while you explain to the other two what is going to happen, when, and where.”

Celesta nodded and sat down on her stone, removing the Harp from its cloth and placing it in Celeste’s hands. “I want you to play while I talk. What I am going to tell you must remain a secret, and above the music, nothing except the two of you will be able hear me.”

Celeste rested the instrument back against her shoulder and began to stroke the strings, carefully avoiding the silver one,

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