Eileen said a half hour later as she slid into a seat at the pedestal table in the kitchen, “all of the old myths and legends about Faeries are so far-off what Culhane and Quinn talk about, it’s funny.”“Big surprise,” Bezel quipped from his post on a stool at the counter. He shifted position on his wide feet, then waved his long, skeletal fingers, producing a white china platter with magic. “Humans getting something wrong. Wow. Alert the media.”Why she’d been so eager to get home, Maggie couldn’t remember. Used to be, she’d walk into the house where she and Nora were raised and instantly feel soothed, comforted. Especially this room. The only room in the house where her grandfather hadn’t been allowed to “tinker” with anything.Grandpa had been a man who liked to keep busy, so he’d whiled away his retirement by turning the Donovan family home into a mini-Winchester Mystery House. There were doors that opened onto nothing. And a front door that had been paneled over on the inside.
