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size of a hardball came whistling past him and hit the chief hound squarely between his eyes ripping the monster’s foul head clean from its shoulders. Sundog, his father’s faery friend had shown up in their hour of need.

The old man staggered to his feet, caught his breath and began whirling his remaining blade in a menacing arc around him. The foxfire comet continued launching itself at anything that would dare to approach the wounded wizard.

It seemed like a lifetime for the last of the red tinge to leave the surface of the full moon. It was approaching 1:00 am when the moonlight was clean again. A greasy fog covered the ground as Jon supported his father and limped back to the awaiting vehicles. Melanie was singing softly to little Gareth, who was feeding at her breast. James was burping Callum and quickly set him in his car seat and jumped to help them as they shuffled towards the four-by-four.

“Hey, guys, what happened?” James inquired. “It sounded like feeding time at the dog pound in there.”

“That sounds about right,” Jon quipped, “except something they tried to eat disagreed with them.”

“I feel like the chew toy from hell!” The old man chortled weakly. “I’m going to need to soak in salt water for a week to clean up this mess.”

“Did you get the witch responsible for the rift tonight?” Mel asked.

“Not for lack of trying, Sis.” Jon groaned. “but we were busier than a three headed fat boy in a candy store. He got away. Dad destroyed his altar and then they almost destroyed Dad. Sundog saved him.”

“Your dad’s not looking very good, Mel,” observed James.

The old man had slumped on the hood of the car and his skin looked unnaturally flushed. He was burning with a fever and soaking wet under his duster and hat.

“How do you feel, Jon?” Mel asked.

“Tired and sick, but I’ll make it,” he replied.

“You and James are going to have to carry him down to Kidron and cool him off in the stream.” Mel directed. “It would probably be wise if you sat and soaked with him when you get him in the water. The healing properties of that stream have resuscitated him from near death before. It can only help.”

They loaded old Storm into the hatch of the four-by-four and hauled him to the park north of the city. On the way, Melanie rubbed a stinging salve into their wounds from a jar in her purse and issued last minute instructions. They parked the vehicle in a cul-de-sac near the woods. Jon and James bundled the unconscious wizard down the trail to the stream. Melanie stayed in the car with the babies and prayed.

At the creek, they peeled off the duster and the hardware from the old man and sat him in a shallow, clay bottomed pool by a mossy bank. Jon stripped down to his jeans and eased in the pool with his father and cleaned the filth and gore from the both of them.

The first light of dawn was beginning to appear on the horizon when the old man regained consciousness.

“Whose idea was it to give me a cold bath in Kidron?” the old man demanded.

“Melanie said it was a sacred spring near Mother’s heart, and would heal you.” Jon replied.

“She’s a great choice for matriarch, don’t you think?” Father Storm smiled weakly, “and I was proud of you out there last night, son. I think the world will have another warrior mage worth his salt.”

“Just like my dad, huh?” Jon spread his arms to show all the wounds he had acquired last night.

“More than you know.” The old man coughed and smiled with a mischievous twinkle in his eyes. “So tell me, when someone asks you how you got those scars, what are you going to tell them?”

Jon grinned insanely at his father. So that was the reason for his off the wall explanations. From now on, this would be their private joke.

Imprint

Publication Date: 01-27-2010

All Rights Reserved

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