Witch Clan: Warriors!, John Stormm [books to read in your 20s female TXT] 📗

Shabriri replied. “I couldn’t say what was going through his troubled mind, but I wouldn’t be too quick to judge him as evil as he suffered a lot with the loss of his domain. Not withstanding that human society can have a very disconcerting effect on the Sidhe to begin with. Humans have never managed to cohabitate with anything higher than canines, felines, equines and bovines . Without all the old wounds to heal, I think you will be a far stronger man than your father was.”

“That makes one of us,” Johnny replied gloomily and then brightened in an instant. “Let’s go see how far we can take this gravity thing.”

Diving headfirst off the branch, he grabbed onto a lower branch that flexed and landed him gently on his feet where he made another mad dash at the wall, running to its top about twenty feet above ground level.

“Like his father, nothing short of death will ever stop him,” the Master said to no one in particular.
Crossover To Logres

It was a good thing that everyone didn’t have to take on assumed names and memorize a heavily fictitious world system. The Sidhe hosts had done everything to keep things simple and merely built the story on what was already in place in Emma’s life, but on a much more grandiose scale. The undergarments as supplied to everyone were of spun spider’s silk and as light and airy as could be imagined but couldn’t be torn or pierced with a knife. The exception being her own witch blade which she discreetly belted beneath a moderately ornate platinum weave apron. Her dress, jacket and blouse looked far more business-like but all resemblance to earthly weaves of cloth ended there. The materials were soft to the touch and bespelled in such a manner as to enhance her ability to carry herself as a queen. The emerald tiara was small enough that she could conceal it under a fine sun hat which she preferred when not acting in state. She could mix and match this ensemble to suit a wide range of demands her role might require of her.

Little Fox looked every bit a Chinese Imperial guard of some sort. The visor on his gleaming, gold helmet obscuring his blue eyes and the solar motif on his high collared silken jacket with the broadsword and military sidearm on a baldric bristling with knives and metal stars, gave him an air of brutal efficiency in spite of his small size. He clicked his heels and gave a courtly bow as he noted her entrance. A Sidhe woman was standing near at his arm. Emma knew that look and smiled to herself. He has made a very special friend.

Comparatively speaking, Johnny was a picture of understatement wearing a black turtleneck shirt, creased black slacks with an unusual belt buckle, gum soled black shoes and a faintly iridescent green trench coat. All he seemed to be missing is a Bogart style fedora and a cigarette to complete his look as he stood quietly with his hands in his pockets.

“So are we all private eyes now?” she asked her grandson.

“Nope,” he replied with a barely concealed grin. “We’re secret agents. This get-up has all the coolest gizmos too. The coat repels just about everything and my belt can almost allow me to leap over a tall building in a single bound.”

“Shades of Krypton!” John exclaimed in mock indignation. “All I got was impervious Chinese pajamas and a couple beans from Logres.”

“Beans?” Johnny asked.

Popping one in his mouth, John’s helmet looked like it was floating over an uninhabited set of clothes.

“Whoa!” Johnny admonished. “You used one up. If you only have two, you need to save those for the mission.”

“Relax sport,” John replied, spitting the bean back into his palm and reappearing. “You don’t swallow these unless you want to fade away for keeps. I just hope it’s warm where we are going because they don’t work so good wearing clothes.”

“Even naked,” Johnny replied, “you’ll be more than a match for most men. I’ll bet that’s why they saved those for you.”

“We retrieved the beans off the Logren soldiers the fae disabled at the shrine,” Elder Scylla explained. “We hoped they would give the impression that your skills and societies were about equal.”

“Thank you most kindly,” Emma returned. “However, Eldritch Siara, my niece and my good man at home have no such protections and advantages as we have here, so the price I may exact from you will be to do your utmost to keep them healthy in spite of the odds they may be facing.”

“Whatever you require, I will personally see to it, Emma Silverlock,” the Eldritch responded in kind.

* * *

Between Master Shabriri instructing him in Sidhe ways and John Little Fox drilling him in the martial arts, Johnny’s energy levels hummed like a high voltage power line. There was just so much to learn, so much to experience and all of it was endlessly fascinating that he felt he could stay awake forever to learn it all. When demonstrating his fae artifact, the Weight Belt, by raising and lowering his body weight, Little Fox seemed to recognize it as something that regulated a force called ’chi’ and suggested he use it in combination with several moves designed to move a lot of force in a specified direction. Little Fox also coached him that even nearly weightless, when in free fall from extended heights that he would likely still fall at thirty two feet per second per second and suggested he use his coat or an umbrella in combination with the belt to create wind resistance and affect a softer landing. Not surprisingly, it seemed the Mohawk warrior came with a bit of magick of his own and he was the beneficiary to this vast pool of diverse knowledge.

Grandma was busy practicing her craft by ordering herds of cattle to specific portions of field and birds to fly in precise formations as well as keeping sessions with Little Fox and Eldritch Siara . The days went by all too quickly and the time was coming to crossover into Logres and put all these things to practical use by defusing a very bad situation. The memory of what those wizards had done at the shrines had a sobering effect on him and his resolve hardened into crystalline sharpness. Johnny was not born a creature of half measures in anything he set himself to do.

* * *

The party gathered with the Sidhe at the Temple of the Moon where a contingent of Eldritch and Elders watched otherworldly reflections shimmering on the surface of the large circular pool. Instructions having been given and outfitting completed, it was decided that the party’s best chances would be to emerge within a few hundred yards of the Rift Wand’s last position in the Logren capital of the Ivory City. The image of a grandly robed wizard with thin lips and close set eyes seemed to be giving a speech to a crowd on the vast lawn of an impressive white building. A public entrance might well ensure that they would not be whisked off to disappear in some torture chamber somewhere. A circle of nine Sidhe Masters enclosed Emma, Johnny and Little Fox, raising their arms and humming an eerie harmony to effect the crossing. Unremarkably, the party ceased to exist in the center of the circle. In the Pool, the image of Logres turned to one of all hell breaking loose at the back of the crowd attending the speech.

Elocutus Interupti

The Ivory City is a sprawling metropolis and the picture perfect poster child for urban planning. Laid out in a symmetrical web pattern, all the main rays of the web join at the Pentacle, a vast building complex laid out in the form of a pentagram where each of the Logren military and police bureaus are headquartered within their own wings. Many of the city landmark buildings and parks are laid out according to some arcane or mystical symbol. The Capitol with its Ivory Tower, where the Grand Wizard resides being no exception to this rule, is a giant triangle, laid out in a circular park with the Ivory Tower springing up out if a courtyard in its center. At an expanse of pavement off the South Lawn at the southern base of the triangle, a grandstand was set up for the Grand Wizard and various dignitaries to deliver speeches against the splendid backdrop of the Capitol.

Mordred VII was just reaching his stride in his speech praising the public for their patriotism and resolve in dealing with the alien insurgents currently labeled “the Forest Devils” by the state controlled media, when a small riot broke out in the back of the crowd where the media vans were set up to air the event. He was considered one of the youngest Grand Wizards ever to serve with only a touch of gray at his temples to add a distinguished look to his wavy dark hair and pale, ice blue eyes. He could see from the elevated platform what appeared to