Witch Clan: Warriors! by John Stormm (best fiction books of all time .txt) 📖

his clothes and no one will know that he’s not with us. It’s perfect.”

“Who do you know that we can trust?” Little Fox asked quietly.

“Instead of walking around the park to the café,” Johnny said, nodding in the direction of the neatly trimmed topiary. “Let’s walk through the center and I’ll introduce you to a couple of my new friends, the Witch Kids.”

“Which kids?” his grandmother asked.

“Exactly,” he replied raising an eyebrow.

Cherry blossoms gave off a heady aroma, strolling within the confines of the elegant city park. Little Fox dropped into a defensive crouch and moved towards a shadow that had detached itself from one of the many cherry trees.

“Which kid is that?” Johnny asked aloud.

“Exactly.” came back the voice of Dodger.

“That’s a high sign if ever I heard one before,” Little Fox said, relaxing his stance as a dark haired young man approached them stepping into the light of the street lamp.

“This is my friend, the Dodger,” Johnny announced. “Dodger, this is my grandmother, Emma Silverlock and our body guard, Little Fox.”

“Hey, I thought you’d be taller,” Dodger said, looking eye to eye with John Little Fox. “You stomped those Shadows like they was nothing bigger than roaches and you were a giant foot. I saw the whole thing on the scrybox. I’ve been wanting to shake your hand ever since.”

“Well, hand me that paw of yours, sport,” Little Fox replied jovially, “and I’ll give it a first class shaking.”

“Don’t s’pose you could teach me to fight like that?” Dodger asked, shaking his hand vigorously.

“Got a few years to learn?” Little Fox asked.

“I’m not even sure the world has that long, these days,” Dodger replied glumly.

“What makes you say that, Dodge?” Johnny asked.

“That Tome we jacked from the book store,” Dodger admitted, staring at his own feet. “It was a special order for a VIP in the Wizard’s Council. That’s how we knew it would be there. We thought we might use it to train ourselves to be a step ahead of the Feds, but what we found was so downright evil that none of us dare to even try anything we read in there. If it’s true that any of those uppity old cranks are considering that kind of magick then we need to be wondering exactly how bad the Forest Devils are and who the bad guys really are. Or are there just bad guys and worse guys and if the whole ball of wax is that stinkin’ rottin’, what chance do the rest of us have of surviving all those power plays by our betters?”

“Hey you!” a voice called out from one of several yellow helmets bouncing down one of the park paths. “Stop that kid. Don’t let him get away.”

With that, the Dodger took off and put as many trees between himself and his pursuers as he possibly could. Johnny almost followed, but at once a Stinger went off and an arc of electrical energy shot into him causing his back to arch.

“JEEZ! That smarts!” Johnny complained through clenched teeth as the arcane design of his overcoat took over an sent the charge back at the oncoming Yellow Jackets who ran face first into the wild shot.

Three Jackets went down as though they were pole axed, laying on the sidewalk twitching and blinking rapidly. Emma and John stood over them in case they had any more ideas of attacking family members.

“The next time you shoot at me or mine,” Emma warned with a low growl in her voice. “If Little Fox here doesn’t kill you out of hand then we’ll have you strung up in your own dungeons. Om biggun tu? You understand me?”

“Yes ma’am,” one gasped, still spasming and blinking from the charge he took. “We’re sorry. It was a stray shot. A mistake. It won’t happen again. Please don’t report us. We were only doing our jobs.”

“Does your job consist of you shooting innocents for your own personal amusement?” she asked archly.

“N-no ma’am,” he replied. “We were trying to protect you from a known thief.”

“It was just a boy who stopped to say hello to my grandson,” Emma pointed out, “and then as the boy wisely ran for cover, you shot my grandson. I see nothing criminal about running from crazy men brandishing weapons who shoot them off indiscriminately.”

“N-no ma’am,” the cop agreed.

“Don’t trouble us any more tonight and I just might forget this happened,” Emma said, flicking her hands as if to shoo them away.

“We were just leaving, ma’am,” the Jacket said as he and his colleagues attempted to walk out of the park on wobbly legs holding each other up.

“That was amusing,” Emma said casually as she looked to her grandson who was checking out the lining of his overcoat. “Are you okay, Sonshine?”

“That hurt when it hit,” he replied. “but then it was gone just as fast. I wonder what this coat can do with bullets.”

“Let’s not find out,” Little Fox insisted. “What really bugs me as that they never saw fit to correct you about the dungeons.”

“Maybe they were too stunned and afraid,” Emma said.

“Of us or the dungeons?” Little Fox asked watching them leave. “They seemed more concerned about being reported than they were afraid of what we might do. Couple that with my worldwide reputation for swatting their elite forces like a giant foot, I find that troubling. They know I can hurt them but they’re more afraid of what their bosses will do to them. Not much of a policemen’s union here, I take it.”

“Dodger seems concerned that his world is worse than what it seems,” Emma responded. “Taking this information with what we saw those wizards do at the fae shrine, is anyone really surprised at this?”

“The Witch Kids steal,” Johnny added, “but they steal to survive. None of them seem to have much besides what they’re wearing so it’s not like they’re just greedy and getting richer. Awful tales come back about kids the government takes away and most are never heard from again. They just want to live free and that doesn’t make them so bad. This whole world isn’t so bad as I thought it might be. They just don’t know the truth, and those that do know, lie to them. They are as much the victims here as the faeries.”

“I think I’d like to have a long, uninterrupted chat with your new friends, Johnny,” Emma said. “Is there any chance we could slip out of sight, maybe during a shopping trip tomorrow and all of us get together for tea?”

“I know of a clothing store in the Market District,” Johnny supplied, “and if we can slip out the back we can probably duck into the back room at Windwalker’s and Sylph’s dad will cover for us as we meet with the rest of the gang. That’s where I’ve been spending most of my allowance lately. They’re nice people, the food’s okay there and nobody can see us from the street.”

“Contact your friends in the morning and we’ll arrange to be shopping early in the afternoon,” Emma said.

“I’ll meet you there when the time comes,” Johnny added.

* * *

As they entered Perlman’s Apparel, a heavy set kid, who was loitering outside began engaging a local Yellow Jacket in earnest conversation and immediately the man’s eyes were showing that glazed look. Inside a lovely young Asian girl nodded to them and indicated the dressing rooms in the back of the store. Emma shook her hand in greeting, discreetly tucking a small wad of bills in her hand.

“That dress in the window would look so nice on you,” Emma whispered and winked, “and it will certainly need a new pair of shoes to go with it, dear.”

They pretended to look at some items on the racks for a while as Charm became the focal point of all attention in the store and they discreetly moved into the back rooms where Dodger was waiting in the shadows.

“This way ma’am,” Dodger whispered. “Out the back door and down the alleyway to the left. You’ll see Stormy at the back door of Windwalker’s.”

“How will we know this Stormy?” Little Fox asked.

You’ll just know,” Dodger said with a smile. “Exactly.”

A short foray down Broome Alley, a familiar blond head peered out at them from the shadowed recesses of a back door to some kind of restaurant.

“Grandma?” Johnny called quietly, bidding them in.

“You must be Stormy,” Little Fox said with a smirk.

“That figures,” Emma added. “I’m just wondering what you did to get that name here.”

“They got my Irish up,” Johnny replied sheepishly, “and we sort of found a way around it to be friends.”

“Then these are some very unusual children, Sonshine,” Emma said, cocking an eyebrow.

“Here, I’m Stormy, Grandma,” Johnny replied sub voce. “I’m a Witch Kid too.”

“My boy has found his own level,” Emma said with a wink. “I think I like them already.”

Johnny beamed, eager to make the introductions. The first to greet them was a tall burly man with light brown hair, friendly blue eyes and dressed in an apron.

“I’m Windwalker,” he said offering firm handshakes and a slight bow,