‘She is,’ said the Clurichaun. ‘Her and the other lad are on their way right now, just as you said they would do.’

The Pooka smiled and clapped his hands together, ‘Very well done indeed!’

‘Thank you, sir,’ said the Clurichaun, bowing and scraping before the creature, the relief in his voice evident. ‘Eh, if there’s nothing else …?’

‘Not as yet. Will I be seeing you at the Revels later? It’s sure to be a party none of us will ever forget.’

The Clurichaun shook his head. ‘Not tonight, I’m afraid. I, um … I don’t do well in crowds.’

‘Pity.’

The Clurichaun took this as a sign he was dismissed. He spotted a stray dog, sniffing around the groups of children below, hoping for a treat from their trick-or-treating stash. He whistled and the dog trotted toward him.

‘If there isn’t anything else you need from me …?” He said, as he hopped on the stray’s scruffy back. Without waiting for an answer, he tapped the dog on the behind and sped off toward the bushes.

The Clurichaun hadn’t meant to get caught up in one of old devil’s schemes, but the blasted creature had sought him out the night before and plied him with drink until he made an unwise promise he dared not break.

‘Make sure the girl and her companion head for the Green Rath,’ the Pooka had said. ‘I’ll take care of the rest.’

What’s done is done, thought the Clurichaun. I told the children all they need to know. I only hope they’re smarter than they look.

The Pooka waited until the Clurichaun had disappeared into the night and pursed his lips thoughtfully.

‘He told them more than he let on,’ said the magpie as he glided down from his perch on a treetop high overhead and settled onto the Pooka’s shoulder.

‘Oh, you can be sure of that!’ said the Pooka.

‘This doesn’t anger you?’

‘Quite the opposite – I was counting on it.’

The magpie sniffed, unconvinced. ‘Can’t say I understand your schemes. What happens now?’ he asked.

‘Didn’t you hear the Clurichaun? There are two poor, young souls walking all alone down a dark, winding road. It would be a terrible shame if they were to run into someone who wishes them ill.’

The magpie cawed. ‘It is Samhain, Master Pooka. There are many creatures abroad tonight who might wish the children ill.’

‘Then we had best keep an eye on them.’

With that, the creature threw his arms wide and the magpie gave an indignant squawk as he was dislodged. The bird flew to the branch of a nearby tree and watched as the long, thin form of the Pooka began to shrink and change. The fur that covered his haunches sleekened into feathers and his long, crooked nose sharpened into a pointed beak. When the transformation was complete, the magpie found himself staring into the face of his twin, but where the magpie’s own eyes were black, the creature’s remained a vivid red.