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would you have d-d-done ha-had I said I wanted to, uh, would k-kill them?”

“I would have worked with you until I was convinced that you saw how wrong that would be.”

Cian shook his head. “Y-you don’t be-believe that.”

The man’s eyes widened and his head jerked back a fraction. “Well! I suppose you’re right. But as much as I think Letitia Pettijohn should receive the ultimate punishment, I would not want you to carry out the sentence. Murder is murder, Cian, and if you were to take their lives, the law would require yours, or at the very least, considering the extent of the provocation, put you away for most or all of the rest of it.”

Cian frowned at yet another odd term. “P-put me, where wo-would they put me?”

“In prison, son. Where else?”

“Oh.” I really am stupid, aren’t I.

“You know what I think?” The doctor stood and smiled. “I think we still have a lot of work to do. But at least we made a break-through, and that usually takes weeks. You’ve been holding so much pain inside, it didn’t take much for it to come out.”

Cian nodded. Makes sense. And after all this, he wanted nothing but to be alone to think and then, if possible, sleep.

TWENTY

 

Connecticut – Present Day

 

The shock was wearing off; Niall had settled himself on the loveseat next to Katie which he didn’t mind at all, but was glad his wife was elsewhere at the moment. He stared across at Celeste, admiring her delicate Irish looks while at the same time unable to ignore the attractiveness of her mother. Mrs. Kelly had one arm around her daughter, keeping her close.

“Before he starts again,” Donal said, staring at Niall through narrowed eyes, “how is it you know English at all? I mean, if you’re from the 6th Century, well, I don’t believe English was even a language yet.”

“Not as ye know it, no. But since me job involves dragging various and sundry all over the Hub from one time to another, or welcoming people from different times and places, I was required to learn as many languages as I could. And let me tell you,” he added, shaking his head, “English was by far the hardest. I don’t much care for it, to tell you the truth.”

Mr. Kelly sighed, puffing out his cheeks. “I still can’t get my mind around the idea that you’re from another century and was summoned by a harper by way of some magical music into my home in Connecticut. But I also can’t deny your presence or how you seem to have gotten here.” He looked at Cian. “Furthermore, I’ve been unable to find any discrepancies between Mr. Croghan’s story and Cian’s, which certainly would have occurred at least once had all of this been fabricated.” He put up his hands and rubbed his temples. “All right. Let’s let the boy continue his tale.”

Cian, who had been silent during this strange intermission, sat forward and continued.

 

*******

 

“I believe I was saying how we’d gotten to Georgia,” he started. “I’m pretty sure no one saw us come out of the stones – I learned these Georgia Guide Stones are an attraction of some sort and people came from all over to see them. I have no idea why. In any event, all we got were a few stares, probably because we hadn’t been there one moment, and the next we were. Not to mention the Brehon’s outrageous beard. So – you can yell at me later, Niall – we went down the slight rise and walked until we came to a street where a lot of cars were parked, including a line of yellow ones. I recognized them from other trips as taxicabs, and knew that you paid the driver to take you where you wanted to go. In our case, it was Atlanta.

“Niall kept a leather bag slung across his chest in which were numbered pockets where he collected coins and bills from the different places he’d been, so he’d always have whatever currency we’d need to pay for things. He also had a section with gold and gems that he would use to trade for money if he happened to be in a place or time he’d not visited before.

“I slept for most of the taxi ride, mainly because these motor vehicles still scared me. I’d closed my eyes to avoid seeing how fast we were going and dozed off. It was hard to shake the belief that these machines were somehow magical, even though on our last visit in the previous century, a kind gentleman had drawn me diagrams and explained how they worked.

“When my mother woke me, we were in Atlanta, the first big, modern city I’d been in thus far. The driver said we were at the requested address on North Druid Hills Road. Later, I asked about the street name, and whether or not it had anything to do with us, and Niall told me that it did, that there had to be some way to find the Servant Helpers in each time period, especially one like this when there were so many more people and buildings than when and where we came from.

“Every Door we’d entered had brought us closer to this one, and in each place a Servant Helper would meet us with a change of clothing appropriate for the location and time period. We normally didn’t appear in a place where others would be likely to see us, but since we had just come from only a few decades earlier, we didn’t have to change our outfits this time.

The building, which we entered through a kind of courtyard, was not one of the tall ones, having only two floors, I think. It was sort of whitish, uh, cement? Concrete? Anyhow, we went in through a glass door under a big brown sign that told us it was the Georgia... Georgia Center for…”

“The Georgia Center for Resources and Support,” Croghan supplied.

“Sorry, some things haven’t stayed too well in my memory, probably because so much happened between then and now. But... never mind. We – ”

Cian’s narrative was interrupted by the sound of his cell phone going off in his back pocket. At first, the faint chiming confused him, but then he remembered the device, stood up, and took it out.

It was the mall’s Maintenance Office. He muttered a word only Mrs. Kelly and Katie didn’t understand and pressed the Talk button. “Hello?”

“Ah, you’re alive!”

“I am so sorry, Mr. Halloran. I completely forgot to call you. I mean, I did remember earlier, but then things got... involved again, and – ”

“Never mind, Cian. I had a feeling from the way you lit out of here that I probably wouldn’t be seeing you for the rest of the day, so I got Matt to cover your shift. Please tell me you’re okay and I’ll be fine with it.”

“I am, sir, thank you.”

“Uh-huh. And things are okay at the foster home?”

“The – oh! Yes, that’s not even a part of it, well, not really. But no – I mean yes, everything’s okay there. In fact,” he added, disgusted with himself for not taking this into consideration, “I’m going to call them as soon as I get done speaking with you, sir.”

“Okay. But listen, when you come back on Monday evening, will you at least give me an idea what all of this was about? I normally don’t like it when my employees rush off like you did, with no explanation or anything, but because you’ve been reliable so far I’m letting it slide. Just give me some kind of reason, okay?”

“I will, Mr. Halloran. I promise. And thank you for being so understanding.”

“No problem. Take care, Cian – see you Monday.”

“Yes, sir.” He hung up, gave everyone a sheepish grin, and said, “Uh, one more call.” He sat down again and called Mr. Geller’s cell.

“Geller.”

“This is Cian, sir.”

“I know - is everything okay?”

“Yes, but I’m not at work.”

“Really? What happened? You weren’t fired were you?” The man’s voice had risen.

“No, nothing like that, sir. I just, uh, had to take care of something important and needed to go to a classmate’s house.”

“Why?”

“Why?” Cian repeated, at a loss. How was he supposed to answer that? “I – uh, I – it’s really hard to explain – ” Before he could continue, Niall got up quickly and took the phone.

“Niall Breslin here. I’m a friend of the lad’s family from Ireland.”

Because Niall was holding the device nearly half an inch from his ear, Cian could make out Geller’s words. “Are you? Cian never mentioned you before.”

“Ah, now, I’m not surprised to hear that. It’s been over six years since I saw the lad. In fact, last time I was with him he was bein’ dropped off at this great big house in Georgia where some people were supposed to be takin’ care of him.” He kept going up and down on his toes as he spoke, the hand not holding the phone jammed into his rope belt.

“I see,” Mr. Geller said, “but what does that have to do with one of his classmates?”

“Well it seems that this classmate hired a harp teacher, who also happens to be an old friend of mine. I’m guessin’ the boy found out I was here and he was hopin’ I’d have news of his family back in Ireland.”

A few seconds of silence ensued. Then, “I thought Cian’s parents were dead.”

“Wh-they are – they are indeed. I said his family, sir, not his parents.”

“Uh-huh. I didn’t know he had any family left.”

“Oh, he does, very distant relatives, however, but still I’m knowin’ them, and like anyone who’s been away from their native land for any amount of time, the boy probably was anxious to hear how things were goin’ there, see?”

“Not really. May I speak with him, please?”

Cian didn’t like the way Mr. Geller sounded, and suspected he didn’t believe any of it. Neither he nor the Georgia Department of Families and Children had ever said anything at all about distant relatives in Ireland or a Mr. Breslin.

Hoping to keep this from becoming a big problem, Cian took the phone back. “Mr. Geller?”

“So Cian, what’s this I’m hearing about distant relatives? I thought you were completely alone in the world.”

“Are you angry, sir?”

“Let’s say I’m perturbed.”

Cian thought about this for a few seconds. “Sir, if you look at my records, you’ll find a Mr. Breslin listed as the one who contacted the Center in Atlanta where we met my first foster parents. Two people, relatives with the same last name as me, accompanied him. He’s not lying, sir, and neither am I.” Somewhere along the pathways in the Hub was a Door, behind which his parents would still, in fact, be alive, and Niall had the ability to see them. No lie there.

“Hold on.” There was a light clunk, the sound of a drawer being opened, followed by the rustling of papers.

Another minute passed, during which Niall explained to the Kellys and Katie that the person Cian was speaking with didn’t seem convinced about what he’d been told.

Cian lowered his phone. “And I’m still in foster care, by the way. I was placed in a group home for teens

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