“There were embarrassing things about the trial, certainly.” Joseph said. “It was embarrassing how a kindly old woman who only ever gave people herbal cures and advice was brought up on medieval charges. It was embarrassing how men who had much more important things to deal with had to give testimony to a jury full of yokels.”

“Then it must have been embarrassing for the little people. Biddy Early tied their name to a modern day witch hunt. But have the little people taken revenge against the old fraud? Have they raided her closet and pantry? No, of course not!”

“Bridget Early never claimed to have powers from the Fair Folk. People merely believed she did because of the effectiveness of her herbs and the usefulness of her advice.” Joseph said.

“What difference does that make?”

“It makes all the difference. She didn’t claim what was not hers. You, on the other hand, did. Intent matters both in human courts and inhuman courts.”

“Pfff! Ha! As if her intent wasn’t to cultivate an image as a sagacious fairy woman! Don’t be silly, she knew exactly what she was doing carrying around that blue bottle of hers!”

“She didn’t.” Joseph said. “She was a remarkably humble woman, and wise as well. Her sound advice and herbal remedies were confused for magic, but she never claimed that they were. And more importantly, she never once claimed to be able to bring back the dead from the domain of the faeries.”

“Ut ut ut!” Emma held up a protesting finger. “I never claimed I could bring back the dead. All I claim is that I can show the living the dead and transport little gifts to them. Don’t act like I’m some sort of spiritualist swindling old women out of their wills. I trade peace of mind for little cakes and bottles of honey and homemade cider.”

“You are such a saint.” Joseph said sarcastically.

“Oh, my clients think I’m wonderful.” Emma replied smugly. “They don’t think I’m a saint, but I come just under one in their eyes.”

“You probably won’t believe this, in fact, I know you want believe this given the kind of woman that you are, but the Fair Folk are actually quite fond of Mrs. Early, for she inadvertently gave them a good reputation among the common folk of Ireland. They believed the Fair Folk were good because she was good. You, on the other hand, call yourself a “fairy woman” and use your false reputation to swindle people, not help them. You claim to speak for the dead who persist under fairy authority, and that is something they cannot and will not abide. They will not abide your actions, do you understand?”

“I understand that under the same logic that makes them fond of Biddy Early they should be fond of me.”

“They are not.”

“But shouldn’t they?”

“Why on Earth do you think that?” Joseph asked the question as if he was talking to a small, annoying child.

“Because I give the little people a good reputation through my actions, as good a reputation as any Biddy Early ever gave them.”

“That is not what you do.” Joseph said, firmly accentuating “not.”

“What do I do, then? Really, what do I do?” Emma asked. “I find a poor, grieving mother, a mother who you can’t help, by the way, because of that policy of yours against summoning ghosts slumbering up in the Astral afterlives. I take her by hand, I take her into my house, I say “Ah, mother so-and-so, it was a terrible thing that happened to your son or daughter, please tell me all about it.” The little people should commend me just for doing that, you know.”

“If that was all you did, you would be.” Joseph said. “But that’s not all that you do.”

“No. I go even further in the comfort I give to the common people. I take them out to certain fields when it's twilight and my boyfriend and sister stand out in fields wearing cloaks and I say ”Look, mother so-and-so, there’s your child. I have pulled back the veil between here and the land of Fairy and now you see that they are fine and whole and in no way the sad, decrepit thing you put in the coffin. They still believe, out here away from the cities, that a ghost is a person’s mind. The academic distinction between soul and mind hasn’t quite reached all the way out here to Ireland yet, so they think I am showing them their actual children, fresh and restored. Now tell me, could you, with all your gaeite candles and manesological Operations, bring mother so-and-so anything like the comfort I have given her?”

Unauthorized duplication: this narrative has been taken without consent. Report sightings.

“It says a lot about the kind of person you are that you would rush to paint a moral veneer over your actions.” Joseph said. “You trade false hope for food. God, why did we even come here? You don’t feel any shame for your actions. We should leave you to your fate.”

“No, I don’t feel any shame.” Emma said. “Why should I?”

“Because shame is a general human feeling, assumed of any general woman.”

“Oh, such venom in your tongue, Dr. Morton! But have you considered that you three are entirely unwanted here in my community? I see you three are alone. I don’t see any of my clients with you. I don’t suppose any of them asked you to come here?”

“We wouldn’t let you know one way or the other.”

“That means no.”

“You can assume whatever you like.”

“I assume only what’s obvious. No one is with you three because no one will speak out against me. Do you know why? Because I do good work, and the commoners, if not the little people, recognize it. Do you happen to recall Mary Doheny?”

“We remember her.”

“Everything I’m doing, she already did years ago. She was the one I actually got the idea from. Do you remember when the authorities took Mary Doheny to court and not a single person testified against her? Did you know that? Not a single one, Dr. Morton!”

“And the Crown still got their conviction.”

“Barely. They nearly didn’t. Do you remember when they asked that policeman, Reeves I think his name was, whether Mary Doheny showed him his deceased father-in-law or not and he swore up and down that she did, in fact, show him his father-in-law. He wanted to see the old man, and so he did see the old man. I’m just showing them what they want to see, Dr. Morton, if they didn’t have that want gnawing away inside them, none of my tricks would work. I’m just giving the people what they want, how can anyone fault me for that, be they human or fairy?”

“You show people what they want and fatten your larder in the process.” Joseph said.

“They’d think something was wrong if I didn’t ask for food.” Emma said. “They expect that I need food to give to their children. It’s an old, old folk belief.”

“It’s older than you know.” Martin said. “It’s a tradition older than Ireland itself. It goes back to Persephone. If one does not eat of the food of the afterlife, one is not fully gone.”

“Well, I don’t know about all that, but I do know they expect food to go to their loved ones. And well, one can only keep food for so long, you know.”

“Poor you, having your pick of victuals.” Joseph said.

“It’s all just a simple transaction. Good feelings for good food. Why, you treat me like I’m one of those Blackwall seance girls who rap on tables to swindle wealthy widows out of their insurance claims. It’s just some eggs, butter, tea, albeit very good tea. I’m shocked you three don’t have anything more important to do than bothering me. Why--”

Emma suddenly smiled. Then she raised her chin in a haughty manner. “Oh, I see what this is all about now. Yes, I see. The little people actually approve of what I’m doing, don’t they? They like me better than they like you three, don’t they?”

“What?” Martin squinted sharply at Emma. “What are you talking about?”

“Ms. Quinn.” Joseph raised his voice sharply. “Be wary of what you say. They have ears all around the world. They hear everything. They may very well be listening to you right now.”

Emma chuckled. “Oh, let them listen! I’m right, aren’t I?” In fact, I’m sure of it! It’s why I’ve gotten away with this swindle for so long. It’s why you’re here trying to intimidate me and instead of taking me to court. The little people like what I’m doing, don’t they? They can’t go to people and show them the ghosts under their care because like you, they have rules about Earth and the afterlives interacting. For all their power, they can’t do that even for the most humble shepherd who dutifully remembers every little fairy fort and fairy path. But I can. And while I get the food, they get the praise. They like what I’m doing. Oh, I bet that makes you mad!”

Martin’s face turned pale. His mouth hung open. He slowly moved his head from side to side as if answering “no” to some question. “Oh, you poor woman.” he said. “You don’t know what you’re saying…you simply do not know…”

“Ms. Quinn, Dr. Glass is right.” Joseph said. “You have not the slightest idea of the size of the hole you are digging for yourself! It was bad enough that you attacked their honor through your charlatanry, but now you’re claiming that they favor you. They don’t like that, Ms. Quinn. They may actually make you one of their favorites because of what you just said.”

Emma smiled. “What would be so bad about that?”

Martin grabbed Emma’s shoulders. “You have to take back what you said! Say that you take it back! Now!”

“Take your hands off me before I call the police.” Emma said coolly.

“You need to take back what you just said. You don’t understand what you’re saying, because if you did you wouldn’t be saying it at all, but you are challenging them with your words and they always rise to a challenge.”

“Perhaps you aren’t hearing me well in your hysteria, Dr. Glass. I told you to take your hands off me. Now.”

“Martin.” Matthew Ernst said. It was the first thing he had said since sitting down. “Let her go.”

Martin took his hands away from Emma’s shoulders. “You poor girl.” he muttered. “You don’t know, you don’t know…”

Matthew stood up. “May God help you, Emma Quinn, because nothing on this Earth can now.”

His friends stood up and followed Matthew to the door of the tavern.

Joseph turned one final time before he was out the door.

“Do not come to us when they come for you, Ms. Quinn.” he said. “For there will be nothing, absolutely nothing, we can do to help you.”