Autumn Calling (11 page)

“And how do I turn it off?” Summer
asked.

“No need. It will only respond to your voice
and words. It’s not like it will float about unmanned.”

“Well, one can never know for sure.”

“So very true, child, so very true,” Aunt
Myrtle said with a smile.

“I noticed a bicycle when I was in the barn.
Is that your flying machine?”

“It is indeed, though it hasn’t seen the
tops of the trees in a very long time. Will you be taking your bike
for a spin this evening?”

“Maybe. I’d like to get a platform mounted
to the back in case Sully wants to ride, but unless something comes
up, yeah. I think I will. Is there any advice you might give a
fledgling flyer?”

“Don’t come in too steep when you’re landing
or you’ll flip it. That is, until you get more experienced. And
stay close to home. If you do have an accident, at least you’ll be
close by and can walk home, or we can hear you holler for
help.”

“Good idea.”

“But most importantly,” she said
seriously.

“Yes?”

“Have fun, my dear. Have fun.”

* * *

The sun had set by the time she had found
bolts and a rather large crate she thought would fit him. Sully lay
on the grass nearby, lazily chewing on a log from a downed tree in
the woods behind the house. He occasionally gave Summer a glance to
see what she was tinkering with, but didn’t really pay much mind to
it.

“Are you ready, Sully?” she said to the
hellhound.

He looked at her sideways raising his ears
to show his interest.

She pulled the vial from her pocket and
uncorked it. “Here goes nothing,” she said. She poured the contents
down the slender frame and handle bars. The purple furry goo clung
to it and dripped its excess. Retrieving the scroll from her pocket
she said,

“Goddess of Air

Most just and fair

The gift of flight we do abet

Your munificence we’ll not forget

I’ll soar like an eagle through clouds up
high

Beholding a beauty that’s only seen by
sky

Then safely return from whence I came

Never again to be the same

Your loyal servant I’ll always be

Now mote it be and times it by three.”

The purple muck spit and smoked then a
shower of what looked like glitter shot from it like an explosion,
making Summer jump back in surprise. When nothing else happened she
decided it was time to try it out. She seated herself on the
squeaky yet large comfy seat than patted the wooden box behind
her.

“Want to go for a ride?” she asked
Sully.

His ears perked up and his tongue emerged
from his mouth as he panted in eagerness. She patted the inside of
the large crate again and he got to his feet, sniffed the wood,
looked at her again for confirmation and then leapt in.

“All righty then…Now what?” she said to
herself. Sully licked her cheek from behind.

“Any ideas?” she asked him, but he only
nudged her with his nose.

“Giddy up” she said. Nothing happened.

“Up!” she said. Again nothing happened.

“Gosh darn it. What do you suppose makes it
gooooooo,” she said as the trike took off like a bullet. “I guess
that’s the word, huh, Sully?”

He licked her and made a squeal as his jowls
flapped happily in the wind.

“Wooooo-hooooo! Auntie Myrtle… Look at us!”
she bellowed as she swooped down near her aunt’s bedroom window.
Summer waved at her when she beamed a wide smile from behind the
window pane holding onto the curtains. She waved back at the two
flying by.

“Look, Sully. There’s Morti. Shall we give
him a scare?” she said devilishly to the tickled-pink hellhound pup
behind her. He nudged her hard in the neck and licked her. “Here we
go,” she said steering the tricycle towards the unknowing cat. They
dive bombed the feline, making him screech and run. Sully barked
and barked as if laughing, saying “Again.”

Summer did follow Aunt Myrtle’s precautions
of staying over the property, and that was okay, because she still
didn’t feel super confident in maneuvering the trike and she was
worried Sully might fall out if she did anything too fast. They
flew over the tree tops, some tapping the cracked rubber of the
tires and the moon shone brightly to light their way. It was
magical in every sense of the word. The view was astonishingly
gorgeous, with the mountain’s darkening purple and the clouds still
reflecting the pink orange of the sleeping sun.

It was cool, almost nippy and she was glad
her gigantic furry hellhound was behind her giving off a tremendous
amount of body heat. A swoop past the graveyard and Summer spied
her beautiful dark angel below waving at them. Sully barked as they
whooshed by the tree Morti had scurried up in his fearful retreat
from them previously, and he hissed as they went by once more. She
applied the brakes and angled the tricycle towards the cottage
bungalow she called her home where an impatient man waited for them
to land.

The seat squeaked as they touched down
without jarring and came to a complete stop. Sully jumped out of
his box and galloped to his new best bud, Daniel, for a rough ear
rubbing and loud belly pats before Sully rolled over so all fours
in the air, waiting for a good belly rub from Daniel.

“Well, look at you?” he said standing from
his crouched Sully-itching pose, wrapping a strong forearm around
Summer’s tiny waist and pulling her to him in one fell swoop,
planting a hungry yet tasteful kiss on her eager lips.

“Having fun?” he said when he pulled away
from her lips for a breather.

“I am. Finally I see magic for more than the
doom and gloom of war and defending myself. I can’t tell you how
grateful I am to Aunt Myrtle for doing this. I feel like a whole
new person. I really needed that.”

“You did and I’m grateful to her too. I
haven’t seen you smile like this in a long time. You’re as radiant
as the sunshine when you smile.”

She pulled him closer and put her head on
his warm chest.

“You’re shivering,” he said.

“Yeah. It’s a little cold up there,” she
admitted.

“Let’s get you in the house and warmed up,”
he said rubbing her arms and guiding her into the house. “I’ll
start a fire.”

It seemed to Summer this week was the week
for returns. Hunter would be flying in tomorrow with news from the
east, plus Dr. Stuart wrote and said he was heading back from
vacation the day after. She felt now that she had some magic under
her belt, she could maybe go back to work, part time at least. She
missed office life, and though it could be unpredictable, it also
had its consistencies. A little “same old, same old” would be a
godsend right about now.

She made sure the glass door had been
repaired, the building power-washed, and had the janitor come in
for a once-over on the inside. It would be good to see Dr. Stuart.
He was more like an uncle that Summer worked for than a boss, and
she had missed his antics and affable ways.

As for preparations for Hunter? Aunt Myrtle
was taking care of that. Maybe she missed Hunter as much as she had
missed Dr. Stuart. They had become good friends before he’d left
for Japan. Having Hunter back would also give Summer a welcome
reprieve from Morti’s crabbiness, as she assumed they would work
him back into the rotation of lessons.

Before he had left she had enjoyed her
history class with him. In school, history had been her least-liked
subject, after math, but somehow Hunter made it interesting. Maybe
it was because the history he was teaching was personal;
specifically related to witches, magic, and her new found family.
She wondered if he had missed his following and maybe should have
been a teacher of some sort. Not everyone can teach though. Some do
and probably shouldn’t, but there’s great patience and talent in
teaching and making it fun for those learning. Those were the
teachers Summer had enjoyed in school.

Some of the nuns had been thrown into
teaching by the church or the father who managed the church, but
not all liked teaching or the subject they were teaching, and it
showed.

Today had been combat magic with Morti, and
it was exhausting. Morti was like a drill sergeant in the ROTC.
Though his methods did discipline her techniques, it was tough on
her self-confidence. He never gave her a word of praise, and she
wondered if she had any talent whatsoever.

They had done some blood thurmagy this
afternoon, and the cut on her hand was bothering her. Thankfully
Aunt Myrtle had a poultice of some herbal concoction that took the
pain away and made it heal in record time. Surely Morti could have
offered something to her, unless he was trying to teach character
in pain.

Summer often relied on Aunt Myrtle’s take on
the lesson to determine if she had done well in Morti’s class. When
working with Myrtle she always knew whether she was doing well or
not; she was good at giving feedback. Aunt Myrtle often said, “I
fear Mortimer has been a cat so long he’s lost his people skills,
my dear.” How very true. That pretty much summed up Morti in one
sentence.

When Hunter arrived the next day, there were
hugs all around. Aunt Myrtle was giddy as a school girl and all
aflutter with questions of his journeys. He could barely answer the
first question before she was asking another, but Hunter took it in
stride in his calm, cool, and collected manner. He just smiled at
Myrtle’s enthusiasm. When Summer and he got some alone time, he
took her hand and asked, “And how about you, Summer. How are you
doing?”

“Good, I guess. I’ve missed you, obviously,”
she answered hugging him again.

“I’m sorry about Jackson. I know you two
were on the cusp of something before we went on our trip and
now…Well, with him staying, I hope you’re not too
disappointed.”

“No. I mean I was disappointed before he
decided to stay.”

“Come again?”

“He didn’t really stay in contact with me
while you were gone, so I think it all just faded away awhile back.
Though hearing it outright does bring up some disappointment.”

“I see. So you’ve moved on then?”

“I have,” she said with an embarrassed
smile.

“Good for you. He’s a lucky guy.”

“I like to think so, but I think I’m the
lucky one.”

“I hope to meet him soon.”

“You will.”

“So, how have lessons been?”

“Good, I guess. I think we’ve found I’m best
with the element of air, though I’ve not explored much yet in the
earth element. Fire is definitely not my forte.”

“I see Morti’s got you using blood magic?”
He pointed to the poultice wrap on her palm.

“Yes, but only just.”

“Next time take the blade to you forearm.
You need your hands strong when battling, not in pain the whole
time.”

“Good tip. Wish Morti had mentioned it
earlier.”

“He likes you to figure things out for
yourself. But I imagine with all this magic being crammed down your
throat, you probably can barely think straight, let alone work out
all the ins and outs of it.”

“Exactly.”

“What about potions and spells?”

“Love it. I’ve really enjoyed using my
knowledge of plants to make things.”

“Great.”

“Though I have realized gypsy magic is not
my cup of tea. I just don’t seem to get it.”

“Very few do. In fact if you were to ask
most witches, they’d tell you gypsy magic isn’t technically real
magic. After all, look how abused it’s been over the centuries with
all the charlatans that have duped the weak and unknowing. The few
who are gifted with it are worth their weight in gold, I can tell
you.”

“Really. Tori was quite deft at gypsy magic.
Turns out she has gypsy blood.”

“How intriguing. How is Tori?”

“I’m not sure.”

“No? I thought you two were joined at the
hip.”

“Not so much these days. We’ve had a bit of
a falling out.”

“Oh?”

“At least that’s what she thinks.”

“Okay. I’m confused.”

Summer went into the details of the accident
the Macabres inflicted on Tori and the demand Nick insisted
upon.

“So you instigated a squabble to keep Tori
safe and Nick off your back.”

“In a nutshell.”

“Things have been eventful since I’ve been
gone.”

“Sure have. Speaking of that, are you going
to tell us your news?”

“I was tomorrow when the three of us were
together again, but I suppose I can give you the highlights. Our
investigations pulled up the existence of another dragon.”

“But how can that be? You said all dragons
were connected and could feel the presence of one another.”

“True and it’s this very reason I believe
that this dragon is much older than I am, and very possibly a
female.”

“Really,” she said with a smile.

“Knock that off. This dragon could be my
grandmother in terms of years.”

“The way you explained it, she may be that
in age, but not necessarily in body. I mean look at you, you’re
what, over fifteen hundred years old, and you look like a
twenty-one-year-old.”

“That’s sixteen hundred and thirty-five, but
who’s counting. It’s true. Dragons don’t age like other
beings.”

“So there’s still promise for your species,
right?”

“That is the hope, though just because we’re
the last ones on the planet doesn’t mean we’ll like one
another.”

“I guess that could be true, but tell me
what makes you think she’s a she and that she’s so much older.”

“Because I can’t sense her. Females are
better at hiding this sense from others to protect their nests, and
I expect her age because she hides so incredibly well, it appears
she’s mastered the art.”

“I get it. So do you have any idea where she
is?”

“Last known sighting was in Scotland about
five years ago.”