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the table, although Ghost ignored it and just tucked in.
    “Thank you kindly for the food,” Gerry said, polite. He began to eat, his spoon ringing against the bowl.
    The Witch watched in open amusement while Gerry ate as if food had never crossed his lips, her hands wrapped around a mug of tea. Gerry sat up when it seemed he had taken the edge off his hunger, his muddy green eyes curious. He looked closer at the Witch, and Ghost could tell he was taking in the wise eyes and the slender fingers, the fine bones of her face under the screen of lank, gray hair. It was a clever fiction that she wore, Ghost knew. She was nowhere near the hag anyone thought her to be.
    “Nothing’s ever what it seems, lad,” the Witch said, as Gerry’s eyes widened. “Take you, for example. I do believe you’re usually brighter than to stumble over a sind’s hole, but you were doing what you’d learned to do so well. You were protecting your family.”
    “Mother told you what happened?” Gerry asked. “Conn screamed and I just ran to him. I wasn’t thinking.”
    “No, you weren’t. But oddly enough, that speaks well of you. It makes me think that you’d care for my little one here just as well.” The Witch chuckled. “You keep looking at him like you want to put him in your pocket. It doesn’t take a great deal of wit to figure things out. The fact that he’s not hiding in the drying shed says even more.”
    Ghost looked up from his porridge, aggrieved. “I don’t hide in the drying shed. And this is different.” He looked at Gerry. “It’s not all people that make me get quiet. Only the wrong ones.”
    “Like Conn,” the Witch replied, her voice thoughtful.
    He could see her making connections to things he had said the day before. Ghost huffed a little sigh of frustration. He hated when she used his own words that way, to pry more information from him. He had told her what he could, and there was nothing new to say. Ghost’s Sight did not always give him clear knowledge. It was a guessing game at times, a puzzle to be teased apart to find the prize.
    Ghost tried anyway. “I never said Conn was wrong.” He was about to say more when he heard the voices from outside. “They’re here.” He looked over at Gerry again.
    Gerry looked into Ghost’s eyes. “I will be back, I promise you.” He reached out to cup Ghost’s face as the Witch stood.
    “I’ll meet them while you say your farewells for now,” the Witch said. Gerry’s head turned toward her, but she smiled a little, shaking her head. “It’s yours to tell, lad. I’ll say nothing to Mother.” She left the kitchen, the door to the house squealing as she left.
    “I know you’ll be back,” Ghost said with quiet assurance. He tilted his face up, wanting to feel Gerry’s lips on his one more time before Gerry had to go.
    Gerry groaned a little as he captured Ghost’s mouth in a kiss. Ghost returned the kiss, not quite as clumsy as the night before, knowing what to expect now and wanting the caress.
    “Are you coming out with me?” Gerry asked. “You could say hello to Mother.”
    Ghost shook his head. It was so hard to explain, but for Gerry he tried. “It’s been just me and the Witch for so long. It’s hard to talk to other people. I never know what to say, and then the words get all tangled in my mouth.”
    “You can talk to me,” Gerry said, cupping Ghost’s cheek in his hand. “Oh, Moon shine on me, when you look at me like that, I want to devour you.”
    Ghost smiled. “I can talk to you because you’re different. You don’t care if I’m not like everyone else.” He ran his fingers across the light stubble on Gerry’s jaw. “I would let you devour me. I don’t feel afraid with you.”
    “I should go outside and see Mother.” Gerry still made no move to leave, his hand sliding into Ghost’s hair. “Wait for me. Promise.”
    Ghost smiled again. No one had ever asked for his promise before. The Witch never needed to ask because