“Mister Gunn, your marker is clear,” said Woad. “We will repair your arm and send

you home as promised.”

Ray nodded. There was a moment where he thought Woad would betray him and

keep him around. He had considered how many of the crowd he could take if that

happened.

Maybe he couldn’t take a lot of them, but he could see burning at least one to the

ground.

Blowing up Transition might have repercussions that he didn’t know about, but he

was willing to chance it.

“Mister McHenry,” said Woad. He turned his single eye on the boy. “The consensus

is to allow you back on Grimsmir. Buble will be detached from his house duties to

accompany you. A channel has been set up so Buble can translate Grimsmir coinage

to dollars so your parents can draw on the money when they need it. I will send

someone by to give them the paperwork. There are two conditions for this.”

Johnny Mac waited for the shoe to drop. He flexed one hand at his side.

“Other than the money going into your checking account, you are never allowed to

go home,” said Woad. “Do you understand?”

“I got it,” said Johnny Mac.

“The other condition is that sometimes I will need you to do something for me, or my

counterpart will need something,” said Woad. “We’re requiring you to handle it.”

“I guess I can do that,” said Johnny Mac. “I’ll have some leeway, right? You’re not

going to send me in to fight a dragon and tell me I only have a day to do it?”

“Whatever the problem is, we’re going to leave it up to you to handle it any way you

can,” said Woad.

The Duke nodded, smiling a bit.

“All right,” said Johnny Mac. “I like that.”

“Ishvar Adaire, the Witch of the Tower,” said Woad. He tapped the edge of the table

that held Grimsmir. “You plead for mercy for your sister. We’re willing to grant this,

but she can’t remain as she is now. She is too much of a threat to Grimsmir itself, and

reality as a whole. Do you understand?”

“Yes,” said Ishvar. She glanced at the glowing blue box on the floor.

“She can never be allowed to use magic again, or even learn it,” said Woad. “We’re

taking that from her. It will be up to you to keep her on the right path from this

moment on.”

“I have been asked to travel with John and the rabbit,” said Ishvar. “Will it be fine to

take my sister with us?”

Woad tapped the edge of the table in thought. A frown showed this was a

complication that he didn’t like.

“What do you think of this arrangement, Mister McHenry?,” he said.

“How much of her brain are you scooping out?,” asked Johnny Mac. “She’s not likely

to be fond of the guy who shot her.”

“That is a fair question,” said Woad. He turned to one of his aides. “Valeri?”

“I can take her talent and the memories associated with it,” said a gray haired woman

in a gleaming silver robe. “When I do that, her almost death will also be erased.”

“I know this will represent a fair chunk of her life,” said Woad. “You will have to

teach her some things, but she will never be able to learn magic again. Do we

understand each other?”

“Yes,” said Ishvar.

“We’ll keep her out of trouble,” said Johnny Mac. He gave the one eyed man a

thumb’s up.

Buble covered his face.

“Valeri?,” said Woad. He gestured at the box.

The woman walked to the box and bent down. She pulled open a hole and reached

into the Librarian’s brain. She pulled out a jet of flame. She closed her hand and

snuffed the fire out.

“She’ll never be able to learn magic again,” asked Ishvar. Her faceless armor hid her

expression, but her posture said she didn’t like what she had seen.

“Never,” said Woad. “I think our business is done.”

He pointed at their general direction. The four visitors burned away. He looked at the

map, nodding when the display told him they had landed in Barley.

“I think I shall take my leave too, old man,” said the Duke. “Are you sure they can

protect the world?”

“No,” said Woad. “But several champions are still on the field. Their powers were

never concerned with this problem, or secondary missions are being run. Your boy

might have a load of trouble on his hands in the future.”

“Johnny Mac can handle his business,” said the Duke. “That’s the one thing you don’t

have to worry about.”

“Thank you for your consideration,” said Woad.

“Thank you for yours,” said the Duke. He nodded at the others, before striding from

the room. The roar of an engine accompanied his leaving Transition.

“Shall we go, Mister Gunn?,” asked Woad. “As soon as we replace your arm, I will

send you back to Earth.”

“I do have one question,” said Ray. He waited for his creditor to lead the way out of

the map room. “Why didn’t you just fix the problem yourself? You seem to have the

ability.”

“We’re not allowed,” said Woad. He led the way down to Aldur’s workshop. “It’s a

contract we have with the other forces that move about Reality. No one of us is

allowed to manifest his full power on the fields we oversee. There would be too much

suspicion and paranoia of our motives from the others. So we pick champions to carry

out our missions.”

Ray wondered how many wars had started because one god wanted a latte.

“Here we are,” said Woad. “Thank you for your help.”

“Not a problem,” said Ray.

They walked into the workshop. Aldur smiled when he saw the two of them.

“How did it go?,” said the blacksmith.

“Your lamp worked like a charm,” said Ray. “It handled everything that was thrown

at us.”

“I thought it would,” said Aldur. “Not bad for a rush job. If I had two more days, I

could have done a lot more with it.”

“It was perfect,” said Ray. “Can you put my regular arm back on?”

“Sure,” said Aldur. “I’ll put this one in storage in case you need it again.”

He touched the metal construct. It came apart in his hand and dropped in a drawer in

a nearby shelf. Ray winced at the sudden pain shooting through his shoulder.

“You didn’t kill the lamp, did you?,” said Ray. “It was alive.”

“It was synthetic,” said Aldur. He fetched an arm from a cooler. He began working

to attach the human arm back in place. “I asked it to go to sleep until it could be used

again.”

“What if it’s never used again,” said Ray.

“Then it will sleep forever,” said Aldur. “Why do you care? It’s just a tiny computer

in a lens.”

“I guess I got attached,” said Ray. “It saved the day.”

“I know,” said Aldur. He inspected his work and made some adjustments. “People are

sentimental about their machines. I think it’s because they project their own

personalities on the things.”

“Do you really think so?,” asked Ray. He tried to hold still as he watched his arm

being put back on.

“Do it myself,” said Aldur. “Everything I make has a name.”

“What was the lamp’s name?,” asked Ray.

“Fido,” said Aldur. He smiled as he stepped back. “Work the fingers. It might take a

while, but you’ll be able to use your arm as naturally as if it was never replaced at

all.”

Ray looked at his hand. He closed his hands in a fist. He moved the hand as if typing

and nodded on how smoothly it worked, but it felt weak. He wouldn’t trust it to hold

a sandwich.

“Looks okay,” said Aldur. “Exercise it and it should do okay for you.”

“Thanks,” said Ray.

“I think our business is done,” said Woad. “Thank you for your help, Mister Gunn.”

“What about Johnny Mac and Ishvar?,” asked Ray. “Are they going to be all right?”

“They will do wonders,” said Woad. “But you will never know. Goodbye, Mister

Gunn.”

The room flared white. Ray blinked his eyes. He rubbed his face with both hands.

What happened to him? He looked around. Where was he?

He had an envelope in his hand. He looked at the addresses around him, trying to

match them to the letter in his hand. He saw the place he was looking for a few yards

down. He walked down the sidewalk until he reached the driveway leading up to the

house. He walked down the driveway. He had to step on the grass to walk around the

pick up with the big tires in his way. He paused at the door.

Should he really be doing this? He had made a promise. It didn’t seem right to just

put the thing in the mail box and walk away.

Ray rang the doorbell. He waited for the light to fade on the button before ringing

again. He was about to push the doorbell again when the door opened. The lady

looked at him with a small amount of puzzlement and irritation on her face.

“Yes?,” she said. She was a heavy woman who looked quick to anger, but also quick

to laugh. She wore a t-shirt with a dog on it and loose pants covered in flowers.

“Mrs. McHenry?,” asked Ray.

“Yes,” said the woman. “What do you want?”

“Your son asked me to give you this,” said Ray. He held out the letter in his hand.

“Johnny Mac said you should have it since his job wanted him to hurry it up.”

“He got a job?,” said Mrs. McHenry. She took the letter and opened the envelope. She

quickly read the contents as Ray turned to go. He started down the driveway. “He

gave you this?”

Ray paused. He didn’t quite remember everything, but he was sure of that.

“He said you should have it,” he said. “His job didn’t want to cut him enough slack

to come home and tell you in person. That’s all I know. His boss told him someone

would come by to talk to you, but he wanted you to hear it from him first.”

Ray waved as he walked away. He had to figure out why he was in North Carolina

and get a ticket home.

He had to call Barbara and let her know he was alive and coming home.

Affirmative.