“I know what it means. It’s just… Well, I hadn’t heard that term used for a while. No matter. It was descriptive, conveyed a meaning, and that’s what language is supposed to do. Right?”

“Right ye are, Magistrate.”

“Why is everyone suddenly calling me Magistrate, again?”

“Do no’ know. Perhaps because the Court is upon us.”

My brilliant brounie looked up as we entered the workroom.

“Hello, Dolan. What masterpiece are you restoring today?” He stepped away to reveal a wooden figure in pieces on the table. It was easy to see from the colorful bits, that it had cobalt blue feathers that became red near the ends and tips of gilded gold. “Is this pretty, interesting, or magical?”

Dolan shrugged. “All those, I think.”

“What else do we know?”

He turned his laptop around and showed me a painted figure that could’ve been a match.

“Sharabha?” I asked, leaning down to read the description. Two heads. Two wings. Eight legs. Sharp claws and a long tail. Uh! Disqualified. This definitely does not have a thousand arms.”

“Oh. That computer thing,” Maggie said. “Almost ne’er gets a thing right.”

Standing up, I reached out to touch the tip of a wing. “Truer words were never spoken.”

Dolan reached out quick as a snake and grabbed my wrist before I touched the Sharabha, or whatever it might turn out to be. “I don’t know for sure what it is yet.”

I withdrew my hand, grateful that he was so protective of my more fragile human nature. “Is it safe to be, um…” I looked around. “In the store?”

“”Tis one thing about Dolan,” Maggie said. “He’s careful as they come.”

To Dolan, I said, “Are you using this photo as a guide for restoration?”I took his head waggle to mean more or less. “Very well. Carry on.”

On the way out, I said, “Expecting more traffic than usual for Samhain Court?”

“Oh, aye. ‘Tis always good for business. You certain you’re feelin’ your oats? You might be lookin’ a tad pekid.”

Maggie was so nurturing, it was easy to forget she was an ancient Irish banshee. She beamed when I gave her a side hug. “Right as rain, me girl,” I said.

She laughed. “Oh. Go on with ye. Girl I’ve no’ been since Methusaleh.”