The Magic Rain

Chapter Eighteen: One Battle Down…

Within fifteen minutes of the battle with the three wizards, police were crawling over the area, along with ambulances and fire trucks. Soon the lookie-loos arrived and, finally, surprisingly late, the press.

I had expected Jo-Bri to take the lead here, but he was still in that shocked kind of mode, his gaze distant. I didn’t understand, but thankfully my parents stepped up, of course, and did the one thing I never would have expected. They told the truth.

It was like pouring gasoline on a fire.

The Sheriff, John Lawlor, arrived with apparently the entire police department in tow. Sheriff Lawlor was one of those men who never let a complete ignorance of the facts prevent him from taking charge and moving forward, which in this case was probably a blessing.

Sheriff Lawlor saw the chaos that was, including a dead boy, small forest fire, blown up car sitting in the middle of that fire a hundred yards off the road, two of the town’s most respected citizens, my parents, telling whoever asked that three eight-foot tall wizards from another world had attacked them with magic, and the Sheriff realized that even greater chaos lay in wait.

He arrested us on the spot.

Maybe there are seventeen-year-old girls out there who are used to being handcuffed and whisked away to the police station, but I’m not one of them. I was mortified, partly by being arrested, and partly by seeing that blank stare still on Jo-Bri’s face.

* * *

They put us in a large holding cell – I didn’t even know a town as small as ours had a jail with cells this big, but then I’d never been in jail before.

As soon as they had left us alone, my father spoke first. "I don’t think we should say anything – the cell might be wired," he said, and I almost giggled – it sounded like a bad spy movie, but then I thought of Scott lying dead on the side of the road and my laughter quickly died inside me, unspoken on my lips.

I glanced at Jo-Bri, who was on one of the cots in a corner, sitting apart from the rest of us.

I walked to his cot and knelt in front of him. I wanted to cry but knew that that wouldn’t help – crying might get a girl a lot of things, but I didn’t think weakness was what was needed right now.

"Jo-Bri," I said quietly.

Crickets. Not a sound or sign of recognition from him. He just sat there with his head hanging, not moving. My heart was breaking but, again, this wasn’t about me.

So I smacked him on the side of the head.

Now that got his attention. He stared at me wide-eyed, holding a hand to the side of his head.

"Jo-Bri," I said again, this time firmer, maybe even a little angry sounding, "we need you."

He took a deep breath. "I should never have –"

I swung again, though this time he easily caught my hand and I was reminded how big and strong this boy was, the boy that I had given my heart to. I also noticed how gentle he was in holding my hand, still careful not to hurt me.

We stared at each other. "We need you," I said again. "Not your self-pity, not your regrets or guilt. You."

He released my hand, still meeting my gaze and I could see a world of pain in those beautiful, deep, sexy, passionate, kind eyes of his.

I knew I was treading on extremely delicate ground. Jo-Bri had told me about the slaughter at his village, and I could only guess at the guilt it had caused him to leave his village, people and family behind to die while he fled the person who caused that slaughter. And now here I was asking him to –

"I know what I’m asking you," I said.

"Do you?" he countered.

I hesitated then nodded. "Yeah. I do, Jo-Bri. Remember, you opened yourself to me and I know the pain you felt. And I have my own pain here too, Baby."

He responded to my term of endearment. I saw him struggle past his own pain to see me and to consider my needs.

At that moment I heard a clanking sound and turned to see two deputies watching the jail cell door sliding open. The Deputies stood at the ready, their hands on their weapons and looking just a bit too frightened for my liking and I wondered how little provocation it would take for them to draw those weapons and maybe even fire them at us.

I turned back to Jo-Bri and saw that he was looking at the deputies, a look of concern on his beautiful face. “We have to change,” he said, and I knew he was speaking the words to me, not to the deputies.

“Change what?” I asked.

“Everything,” he replied.

"You’re coming with us," one of the deputies said, trying too hard to sound in control.

I felt a hand on my shoulder and looked up to see my father there, a grim expression on his face. I hesitated and stood. Jo-Bri stood as well, and I felt some hope that maybe he was coming back to us.

* * *

Sheriff Lawlor gathered us in one large room in the police station. We’d already been read our Miranda Rights and now sat all in a row facing Sheriff Lawlor and Deputy Tarsky.

Deputy Tarsky looked in no shape to be conducting an interrogation, but then who am I to say? Just some teen girl felon, apparently.

Sheriff Lawlor stared at us with an air of exasperation. "Okay,’ he finally said, "Let’s go over what happened."

"Well," my mother said, "We were searching for Hodon’s three wizards –"

Sheriff Lawlor put up a hand. My mother stopped talking. The Sheriff rubbed his forehead, hesitated, and then turned to Deputy Tarsky. "Okay, Dave, tell me what happened."

Deputy Tarsky did his best to describe what he saw, but the problem was that he just hadn’t seen that much.

Sheriff Lawlor nodded, listening calmly, puckering his lips. When Deputy Tarsky was finished, Sheriff Lawlor paused a long moment. "So," he finally said, "you saw the suspects parked on the side of the highway, you stopped to find out what they were doing there, and then your car exploded, knocking you unconscious until you came to, at which time you saw one dead body, a small forest fire, and your car a hundred yards away, blown to pieces in a copse of burning trees."

"Yes sir."

I could feel Sheriff Lawlor resisting the temptation to bury his face in his hands.

Jo-Bri surprised us all then, by speaking -- we’d all seen the despair on his face and had not expected him to come back anytime soon.

"We could waste a lot of time here," he said quietly.

"Listen, son –" Sheriff Lawlor said firmly.

Jo-Bri levitated Deputy Tarsky three feet off the ground.

"What the hell!" Deputy Tarsky yelled.

Sheriff Lawlor was so startled that he actually stepped back and whipped his pistol out of his holster. Not only that, but he pointed the gun at Deputy Tarsky.

I was a good girl and didn’t laugh, but just barely.

Jo-Bri planted a quick thought in our minds, suggesting we not say anything.

So the two policemen stood there – actually that’s not true, only one of them stood there, the other floated three feet off the ground, his eyes bugged out, face crimson, arms and legs thrashing about in an attempt to force himself back to the ground.

Finally Sheriff Lawlor seemed to realize how silly he looked with his gun pointed at poor Deputy Lawlor, so the Sheriff instead turned his gun on us.

Jo-Bri sent us a calming thought and Maria immediately reinforced that thought with her unique ability to soothe the minds of those around her.

So we really had no trouble just sitting there staring down the barrel of Sheriff Lawlor’s ugly automatic pistol.

Debbie asked Jo-Bri if she should make the pistol disappear but he gently replied that we should just continue to wait.

"What did you do?" Sheriff Lawlor demanded, a little too loudly and nervously. He seemed to realize that he sounded panicked because he lowered his pistol a bit and stood straighter, trying to regain a semblance of dignity.

"What did you do?" he repeated, as if doing a second take for the cameras.

Jo-Bri stood up and Sheriff Lawlor raised his pistol again – quickly and suddenly. Just as suddenly, the weapon disappeared.

Sheriff Lawlor stared down at his empty hand, still shaped as if holding a gun. The Sheriff leapt back from Jo-Bri.

"Holy shit! Holy shit! Holy shit!" he yelled with amazing speed. This time I didn’t want to laugh, I actually felt sorry for the man. He was used to being in charge, and here he was completely lost and out of control.

"Sorry," Debbie said. "I thought he was going to shoot."

Jo-Bri raised a hand in brief acknowledgment and absolution and Maria again sent out a wave of calming thoughts.

"Sheriff," Jo-Bri said and took a step forward.

"Stay back!" the Sheriff shouted and actually pointed his empty hand at Jo-Bri as if he were still holding his pistol.

Jo-Bri took a long slow breath. "I’m sorry about the gun. We’ll buy you a new one if you want."

The Sheriff stared bug-eyed at Jo-Bri, then glanced at Deputy Tarsky who was swearing a blue streak from three feet in the air, his limbs still flailing.

"Shut up, Tarsky!" the Sheriff snapped and, amazingly, Deputy Tarsky shut up. The Deputy glanced at the Sheriff, his eyes still bugged out. For some reason this seemed to calm the Sheriff down and he lowered his weaponless hand and stood straighter again, taking a deep breath. He looked at Deputy Tarsky again.

"You’re flying, for Christ’s sakes, Tarsky," he suddenly said, "at least enjoy it!"

Deputy Tarsky’s eyes grew even wider if possible but he said nothing. Jo-Bri made a gesture and the Deputy slowly sank to the ground. His legs nearly buckled but he managed to hold himself upright. He hesitated, as if to make sure he wouldn’t be whisked back up into the air and then went for his gun.

I quickly twisted the numbers and the Deputy’s hand closed on an empty holster. "Sorry," I said.

Jo-Bri sent Maria a quick thought and she sent calming waves at both policemen.

"We’ll pay for that gun too if you wish," Jo-Bri said.

The Sheriff nodded, watching us guardedly. Then suddenly he started laughing.

"Well I’ll be a son of a bitch," he said. "You’re aliens, aren’t you? I knew the day would come."

Jo-Bri briefly cocked his head. "Sheriff, you know these kids, and the Professors. How could they be aliens?"

The Sheriff nodded slowly at that. "Maybe," he conceded, "but I don’t know you."

Jo-Bri smiled.

"You got me. I am an alien."

"Jesus Christ," Deputy Tarsky said, staring wide-eyed.

"No," Jo-Bri replied and laughed. "Not that alien."

I laughed then too, partly out of nervousness, though that was being mostly controlled with Maria‘s help, but also out of relief. I felt my love for Jo-Bri well again in me, now that I knew he was back among us and taking charge again. Until that moment, my love for him had taken the shape of worry, but now it was just a pure outpouring of my loving feelings for this strange boy-wizard.

Jo-Bri sensed my feelings and sent me a quick little jolt of love in return that sent thrills through me, though I couldn’t help also sensing a grimness in him. I then felt him send my parents a little thought that I couldn’t quite catch.

My mother and father stood, slowly so as not to further spook the policemen.

"Sheriff," my father said calmly, and I remembered how much I loved these two people, but also that now they weren’t my only family. All these crazy wizards-in-training were my family in the very real sense of that word. "We don’t mean you any harm," my father continued.

The Sheriff nodded, seeming relieved to be dealing with someone his own age and, presumably, his own species, since Jo-Bri had now admitted to being "alien."

"Okay," the Sheriff said, speaking slowly as if that would help him remain calm. "So why don’t we begin with you telling me how you floated Tarsky over there?"

"Magic," Jo-Bri said, without any sarcasm to his voice.

The Sheriff stared at Jo-Bri for a long moment, and then glanced Tarsky.

"Okay," he finally said to Jo-Bri, surprising me, "I could argue with you, but I saw it with my own eyes."

"That’s why we did it," my mother said and I could feel Maria pumping out calming waves that washed over the policemen.

"That," Deputy Tarsky finally said, and I realized that Maria had finally brought him back from the edge of panic "was amazing."

Jo-Bri nodded.

"We didn’t mean to scare you, but there are important things you need to know, and you can’t begin to understand them unless you begin with the assumption that magic is not just possible, but a reality."

"Okay," the Sheriff said, and seemed to relax even more. "Tarsky?"

The Deputy hesitated, and then nodded, and he too relaxed.

"Good magic and bad magic," I heard myself say, surprising myself as I felt myself walk forward, joining the discussion. I realized that Jo-Bri had prompted me to speak up, that he wanted me – all of us -- to be part of the discussion.

"What about the dead boy?" the Deputy asked.

I felt Jo-Bri battling a wave of sudden despair but it was Maria I glanced at, and tears were falling down her smooth, lovely young cheeks – far too young to be experiencing this kind of grief. I sent her all the love I could. "He was one of us," I said, buying Jo-Bri some time.

"There are others like us," my father said.

"They practice the bad magic," my mother added.

Both policemen tensed again, not so much against us but against the thought of someone wielding this "bad magic."

"Three evil wizards crossed over from another, parallel world," Jo-Bri said, and I was thankful that he had not again slipped into that place.

"We killed them," Mike said, stepping forward now too, and suddenly I felt that this was what Jo-Bri had meant when he said we had to change

"And they killed Scott," Maria said. She wailed – though not in a way that the Sheriff and Deputy could hear, and I kept sending her my love, while battling my own pain.

The policemen glanced at each other. The Sheriff squared his shoulders and took a deep breath, and I gently felt his mind, sensing a whirlwind of emotions – and also felt Maria‘s calming influence.

"Are there more of these… ‘Evil wizards?’" the Sheriff asked.

Jo-Bri nodded. "Yes. There are."

The Sheriff nodded slowly. "And they’re coming here."

Jo-Bri nodded again.

The Sheriff took a deep breath.

"Sooooo… normally if I thought that a bunch of bad guys were coming to town, I would call up reinforcements, maybe the FBI, the national guard if it was really bad."

Jo-Bri nodded.

"Would that do any good?" the Sheriff asked.

Jo-Bri considered that.

"Maybe," he finally said, "after all, you’re not helpless, and a bullet will kill a wizard as easily as it will kill anyone else."

"But?"

Jo-Bri cocked his head.

"I wouldn’t do this to you, not even to show you what I mean," he said, "but I could blanket this town with a fear so deep that every person in the town would be cowering in the nearest corner, wondering if they should kill themselves."

The policemen stared.

"And I could do it without you even being aware that I existed," Jo-Bri added. "I could sit in a car a mile out of town and just do it."

The Sheriff nodded.

"There is a really, really bad wizard," I said.

The Sheriff glanced at me.

"He can do that fear thing a lot better than I can," Jo-Bri added. "His name is Hodon. If Hodon blanketed this town with fear, none of you would be wondering whether to commit suicide. You’d be begging for the chance to commit suicide."

"You’d probably already be dead," I added.

The policemen stared and they were afraid.

"And that’s not all," my father said. "He might be able to split the atom."

The Sheriff frowned. "As in Hiroshima-and-Nagasaki-split-the-atom?" he asked.

Jo-Bri nodded.

"But why?" Deputy Tarsky asked, his eyes and voice reflecting his fear. "Why would he do that? What does he want?"

"To destroy humanity," my mother said.

"He believes that our world threatens his," I explained, "and that the only way to save his world is to destroy the human race. Or at least a big part of it."

The Sheriff shook his head, a little dazed by it all. "How do you know this?"

"Because Hodon and I come from the same world," Jo-Bri said.

"So we should call in the National Guard," Deputy Tarsky said, and I could feel Maria working on controlling his panic not letting her seemingly bottomless grief stop her from helping us.

Jo-Bri frowned slightly.

"Whatever’s going to happen will happen soon. I don’t know what the government official’s reaction would be to two small-town policemen telling them that they need to send the National Guard to save the country from evil wizards from another world."

The Sheriff stared a moment, then nodded grimly.

"My father fought Hodon," Jo-Bri said, sounding stronger and stronger and I felt like dancing with joy because the boy – the man I loved was back. "He said that Hodon could extend his power from tens or maybe even hundreds of miles away. Hodon would march on a city and days before he arrived, the feeling of dread would begin, different than ordinary fear, and it would spread through the city like wildfire, getting stronger and stronger as Hodon approached, so that by the time the battle was to be fought, it would already have been won. Mass suicides, mass exoduses from the city, brutal infighting among the people."

The Sheriff stared, looking grim.

"So what do we do?"

Jo-Bri considered that and my heart skipped a beat. Would he have an answer to the Sheriff’s question?

"We fight," Jo-Bri said.

I realized that I’d been holding my breath. I released that breath.

"But wisely," Jo-Bri added.

The Sheriff nodded.

"We’re going to have to bring other people in here," he said. "The mayor and council, for one."

Jo-Bri nodded. "And Scott’s parents," he added. "They deserve to know what happened."

"They may blame you," I said to Jo-Bri.

He glanced at me and flashed a momentary smile of love before nodding grimly.

"I can’t deny them that right," he said, and that startled me, Jo-Bri seeing it as the parents’ right to blame him for their son’s death. It reminded me how remarkable this man-boy wizard was.

* * *

"You don’t have to do this," Jo-Bri said.

"I know," I said, a little irritated.

He cocked his head. "You’re angry," he said.

"Of course I’m angry," I snapped back, and then took a long, deep breath. "You can’t shut me out like this," I explained, trying to make him understand that I didn’t always need his protection; that sometimes it was me who had a duty to stand by him.

He narrowed his eyes and took a long breath like the one I had just taken. "All right," he finally said, exasperated, but I saw the love in his eyes so I forgave him for being such a… man.

The Sheriff glanced from Jo-Bri to me. "Are you ready?" he asked.

Jo-Bri glanced at me and I nodded.

"All right," Jo-Bri said grimly, and we turned and walked into the room where Scott’s parents waited.

I didn’t cry, not even when Scott’s parents shouted their anger at Jo-Bri, blamed him for their son’s death, hated him so intensely that it hurt for me to feel it coming from them in waves even when it wasn’t directed at me and I had to wonder how much it hurt Jo-Bri who was the target of that anger and hatred and sorrow.

Scott’s father suddenly hammered his fists down on the table and stared at Jo-Bri in a near-murderous fury. I didn’t know what kept the man from reaching across that table to actually try to kill Jo-Bri, but I would have understood if he had done so.

Scott’s mother wept and sobbed and wailed and that was the hardest to deal with. It reminded me that a woman’s strength, her ability to feel so much more deeply than men seemed to be able to, was a two-edged sword. But at least we were able to express it fully. I watched the anger and hatred in Scott’s father and knew that it would eat away at him unless…

I took a deep breath, checking myself to make sure my motives were pure; that I wasn’t doing this just to save the man I loved. When I was sure that this was to help Scott’s parents and not just to avoid the brunt of their anger and sorrow, I very gently started trying to imitate Maria, carefully and gently reaching out to these poor, grieving parents with my thoughts, soothing their minds, but so subtly that they wouldn’t feel the manipulation and would still be able to feel most of the grief they did have a right to feel.

Jo-Bri glanced at me. Of course he’d felt me do my thing and I cringed a bit, but he smiled very lovingly and sent me a thought of appreciation for my caring enough to do what I was doing.

Scott’s father shook his head and tears finally began to fall, his anger abated enough to allow his sorrow to take over, as it should. "I don’t understand," he said. "What were you doing there with Scott and the others?"

Jo-Bri hesitated, and then held his hands palms-up on the table we all sat at, and slowly a ball of light formed above his palms.

Scott’s mother gasped. Scott’s father moved his chair back, staring in amazement.

"No words will be enough to convince you of the amazing things that are happening in your little town right now," Jo-Bri said, and he made the light grow larger and brighter. "So please allow me to show you."

Jo-Bri suddenly clapped his hands together and the ball of light exploded outward, flooding the room with brilliance that constantly changed color and shape, pulsing and moving as if alive.

Scott’s parents stared in amazement.

"What is this?" Scott’s father demanded, even though I had blunted the edge of his anger.

"Magic," Jo-Bri said "and life," and the light danced and changed even more wildly and yet somehow soothingly as well.

"I don’t know what you think you’re doing," Scott’s father said, though partly mesmerized by Jo-Bri’s light show, "but what does this have to do with my son’s death?"

Jo-Bri glanced at me. I saw what he was thinking of doing and I nodded. Jo-Bri turned back to Scott’s parents.

"Close your eyes," he said and Scott’s parents frowned, but I reached out to support Jo-Bri and Scott’s parents closed their eyes.

Jo-Bri then did the most amazing thing. He helped Scott’s parents experience a small part the amazing sense of life and joy that he had helped all of us experience. They gasped as they experienced life fully for the first time.

Eventually Jo-Bri withdrew from their minds, slowly, and I helped to ease their transition back to "reality." They opened their eyes and were crying again, but this time in wonder and joy.

"Is this –" Scott’s mother asked.

"Yes," I said. "This is what Scott felt."

"This is what Scott is still part of," Jo-Bri added. "What we’re all a part of, always, even after death. Especially after death."

I held my breath. How do you tell a grieving parent that the death of their son wasn’t as bad as they felt it to be? I sent more soothing waves to these two people, and slowly they relaxed. Then, amazingly, Scott’s mother reached across the table and took Jo-Bri’s hand in hers.

"Thank you," she said.

Jo-Bri nodded. "When this is over," he said, "I would like to show you more of this, more of what Scott experienced and learned."

Scott’s parents nodded. Scott’s father stood and after a moment’s hesitation, extended his hand. Jo-Bri took it with both his hands, and said, "Scott will always be part of us."

Scott’s father nodded and the two of them walked from the room. After they had left, there was a long moment of silence.

"I love you," I said. Jo-Bri laughed and turned to me so that I could see there were tears in his eyes.

"I know," he said.

I held his gaze and felt so totally at peace that I could only hope that Scott’s parents would accept Jo-Bri’s invitation to join us.

* * *

That night, after the others had left, Jo-Bri and I lay in side-by-side deck chairs on the patio, holding hands and looking up at the astoundingly beautiful night sky, filled with stars that shone brighter than they ever could have in light-polluted cities.

"Tell me about the day Hodon attacked your village," I said, afraid that Jo-Bri would be angered by my question.

Jo-Bri turned his head to stare at me.

"You were amazing with Scott’s parents," he said.

I smiled and touched his cheek, my hand molding to his face and my heart racing a little with emotion.

Jo-Bri went back to staring at the stars, and then began speaking in a quiet voice filled with pain. He told me about the wave of fear and despair that swept over the village, and how the villagers had come to Jo-Bri’s father, knowing what they had to do, how Jo-Bri’s father had given him his own life force and how the voices became part of who he was.

Jo-Bri went on, describing how he had spent the next months on the run, learning to strengthen his magic from the voices within, occasionally having to fight for his life as Hodon’s wizards would find him, and even how he walked to the edge of the cliff, fully intending to throw himself to his death.

My hand tightened around his when he described standing on the cliff, looking down, the voices inside him trying to make him step back but the guilt within him too much to deny.

Finally he was finished. There was a long silence, and I realized I felt both proud of him and deeply hurt for him as well, realizing what he had had to go through.

"So when Scott died," I finally said softly into the darkness.

"I felt as if I brought death to everyone around me," he finally replied. "And that it was inevitable that I would bring it to you and the others as well."

"You were thinking of suicide again, weren’t you?" I asked.

"Yes." There was another long pause. "But what I’m thinking about now is something my father said to me. He said you don’t prove yourself with heroics, but by being a good man.”

“This is the change,” I said softly. He turned to stare at me and it felt as if he were peering into my very soul. Maybe he was. “Yes,” he said.

We lay there in the darkness, the night air wafting gently around us. Finally I stood, and gently pulled him to his feet as well, and we walked silently into the house.

* * *

We attended Scott’s funeral a few days later. It was of course a solemn affair, though made perhaps a bit more endurable by Maria who sent waves of calming thoughts to everyone in attendance, supported by the rest of us, which was quite a feat given that there were more than a thousand people crowded around the gravesite. Word of what had happened had obviously circulated throughout the small town and people were interested – no, concerned.

Jo-Bri held up and more – he stepped up, and despite his young age, he spoke a moving eulogy that came from his heart and represented what he and the other wizards-in-training felt.

As we were leaving, Mayor Tom Laughren, a tall, 50ish man, approached us, and specifically my parents.

"John," the man said to my father, then "Carol," to my mother.

"Tom," my father said, then quickly introduced the mayor to the rest of us.

By this time the other funeral attendees had gathered behind the Mayor, watching expectantly. I realized that most of the adult population of the town was staring at us, expecting… something.

The mayor somberly shook hands all around, then stepped back, as if consciously wanting to be seen as part of the other townsfolk and not of our little group.

"The townsfolk are worried," the Mayor said, not beating around the bush.

My father nodded. "We know," my mother said, and I wondered if she knew what effect this would have on those present – a murmur went through the crowd as they speculated whether we knew about their concerns through magical means.

"Anyone would be," my father added, as if to allay their fears of our purported powers. "Scott – " my father continued, and then paused.

At that moment Scott’s parents stepped from out of the crowd of onlookers and walked over to our "side" of the calm confrontation, making a very loud statement without having to speak a single word. My mother slipped her arm around Scott’s mother’s arm, and my father shook hands with Scott’s father.

More murmuring. The Mayor frowned, not in anger but rather in thought as he tried to understand what this move meant to the situation and to any "balance of power" that might exist here.

Jo-Bri slowly floated upward, crossing his legs beneath him as he did so.

The murmuring became gasps and exclamations. I sighed, not at all sure that this was the best way to handle this situation, but trusting in Jo-Bri and being more than willing to put my head on the chopping block next to his beautiful one. So I floated upward as well, followed immediately by the others – Mike, Maria, Linda and Debbie. My parents remained standing where they were. Part of it may have been that levitating may not have been as easy for them or, more likely, they wanted to be seen as some sort of bridge between the crazy wizard kids and the rest of the town.

Scott’s parents, of course, remained by my parents’ side.

The Mayor stared in astonishment, then nodded slowly; surrendering any attempt he may have wanted to make to dispute the possibility of what he was seeing.

"Whatever you’ve heard," my father said calmly, "at least some of it is true – the good part, not the scary stuff you’ve probably also heard. We mean no one any harm."

"So, Scott’s death – the ‘attack’ on the highway…" the Mayor said, still staring at those of us who were incontrovertibly levitating in front of him and in front of most of the townsfolk.

"We were attacked by three wizards with many of the same powers we have," my mother said, so easily slipping into the breach my father intentionally left for her. "We fought back and…" My mother’s voice quavered a bit, but only a bit and I felt another surge of pride in her courage. "Scott was killed. So were the three wizards."

"Do you realize how this sounds?" the Mayor said, sounding irritated by it all.

"Can you repeat that?" Jo-Bri suddenly asked, "I can’t hear you from up here."

The Mayor sighed.

"Okay, I understand what you’re doing," he said. "You’re forcing me to choose between your being magic and my being crazy."

My father nodded, smiling tightly. "We figured it would be easier than trying to convince you of any of this."

The Mayor hesitated, and then turned to the large crowd behind him. "Do you see this too? The floating people, I mean?"

The crowd burst into excited, affirmative responses. The Mayor’s shoulders slumped in defeat and he turned back to us. Our point made, we all gently lowered ourselves back to standing positions on the ground.

"Are we in danger?" the Major asked. "Will there be more attacks like that one?"

My father hesitated now, and Jo-Bri stepped forward. I felt the little thought he sent to my parents, who stepped aside to allow him to take center stage.

"Yes," Jo-Bri said and there were gasps and murmurs of consternation from the crowd.

The Mayor stepped forward another step, in a physical attempt to override his constituents’ growing disquiet, which seemed on its way to outright panic if not stemmed. I joined my energies to Maria’s as she sent calming waves over the crowd.

"We have to call the National Guard!" someone yelled.

"Or the Army!" someone else yelled, "and the Air Force!"

I felt Jo-Bri send a wave of calm of his own, more powerful even than Maria’s, and I could feel the effect it had on the crowd, but it was as if they were being artificially sedated and it wouldn’t last forever.

My parents began channeling energy from out of the atmosphere to Jo-Bri.

"You can," Jo-Bri said calmly.

The Mayor stared at Jo-Bri, as if reluctant to treat a teenager as an equal. "But we’ll look like we’re insane," he finally said.

Jo-Bri nodded.

"You can fly for them!" someone said.

I felt Jo-Bri reach out and ever so slightly twist the onlookers’ minds, a readjustment too subtle for any of them to actually feel. I couldn’t quite tell what he was trying to accomplish.

"If we fly for them," my father said, having wordlessly been invited to comment by Jo-Bri, who knew that my parents’ mature, respected words would be more trusted than his younger ones, "there will be panic."

"What people don’t understand, they hate and try to destroy," my mother added and I felt a surge of fear at the recognition of the truth in that statement.

"Then what can we do?" the Mayor asked.

"We can form a bond right here and now," Jo-Bri said, and once again floated into the air, looking down at the Mayor and his constituents.

I realized what Jo-Bri was attempting to do and it scared me. He was trying to gain their loyalty, trying to bring them into the outer circle – not close enough to learn the secrets of our magic, but close enough for them to feel enough loyalty to protect those secrets from the "outside" world. He was trying to create a "them and us" mentality.

Jo-Bri sent me a comforting little feeling, because he knew I didn’t like the thought of separating ourselves from the rest of the world. But I also knew my mother was right: if you suddenly had strangely powered people in your backyard, the first thing that came to mind wasn’t what a great wonderful thing that was, but rather what danger these powerful, new strangers might pose. We couldn’t train six billion people in the art and science of Jo-Bri’s magic, so of course there would always be a separation between them and us. That separation and our powers would engender resentment, jealousy and fear.

"Jesus Christ was a wizard," my father said and I gasped along with most of the gathered crowd. Why was my father using such… profanity? He must know that these small town people were conservative by nature, and mostly religious to one degree or another.

"John, I think you’re treading on dangerous ground there," the Mayor quickly said, as if trying to ward off a response from the crowd.

“He turned water into wine,” my father said calmly with a hint of challenge. “He raised the dead, healed the sick, and walked on water.”

I shook my head, the fear rising in me, competing with the admiration and love I felt for my father.

"That’s blasphemy!" someone shouted.

“Yes,” my father said. “That’s what they called his words too. And they killed him for it.”

The people stared, with a mixture of anger, confusion and even perhaps a bit of shame.

“Is that what you want to happen here?” my father asked.

I felt the fear increase in me and then felt Maria touch me with her calming magic. Though the fear remained, it became a much smaller voice in my mind and heart, a voice I could afford to ignore at least for now.

I felt Jo-Bri send a thought to my parents who suddenly sent him every bit of energy they could siphon from the air around us.

"How do we know they won’t attack us?" someone else shouted, and there was an almost palpable sigh of relief even as the crowd shifted their anger into this new direction.

"They’re demons!" someone else shouted and I suddenly thought that we should probably be somewhere else – anywhere else than right here, right now. I sent a pleading thought to Jo-Bri but he was focused on the growing anger and fear among the crowd that was on its way to becoming a mob.

Jo-Bri wasted no more words. Instead, with the power channeled to him by my parents, and with our combined energies, he suddenly drowned the gathered mourners/townsfolk with the most powerful mind-altering spell he could manage, and the previous tweak that he’d done to their minds paled in comparison to the changes he was making now. And even as he was blasting them with his spell, I could feel Jo-Bri’s regret and even revulsion at having to do this.

The crowd stood, stunned into silence.

The Mayor and his constituents stared.

Jo-Bri tapered off his mental "attack" on the crowd, until finally there was… silence, both mentally and physically.

"What happened?" Scott’s mother whispered a little too loudly.

My mother put a hand on Scott’s mother’s arm.

Scott’s father looked like he wanted to ask the same question, but seeing my mother’s arm on his wife’s arm, he kept his peace.

"We’re all in this together," my father said to the crowd at a silent signal from Jo-Bri. "We’ll protect you if you protect us."

The Mayor nodded. So did several of the people crowded close in behind him. "We need to protect each other," he said, and only a wizard or other adept would have been able to sense the presence of an… influence on him. For most people he would have sounded completely reasonable and freely cooperative.

Jo-Bri slowly settled to the ground and walked past my father to face the Mayor and the others. "Go back to your homes. We’ll contact you if there’s another attack."

"How?" the Mayor asked.

"Magic," I heard myself say. "We’ll contact you with magic."

The Mayor nodded. He hesitated a moment, as if wondering why he was doing and saying these things, then turned and walked toward the row of cars parked along the edge of the cemetery. His constituents followed.

I let out a deep breath. Jo-Bri turned to me and I hugged him tightly to me, feeling the hurt he felt at having violated these people.

Scott’s parents watched, puzzled.

"What happened?" Scott’s father asked.

My father turned to him, looking grim.

"We just violated a thousand people at one time."

"No," Jo-Bri said. "I violated them."

"With our support," I said, and he hesitated before nodding.

"You just prevented them from hurting us and themselves," Scott’s mother said.

I pursed my lips, and then, when no one else said anything, I spoke quietly to Scott’s mother.

"You’ll understand once you’ve developed your own powers."

They Jo-Bri took my hand and led me away from Scott’s grave and toward our waiting cars. The others followed silently.