The Wizard's Grandson

Contents

Chapter 1

Eavesdropping

Chapter 2

An Unexpected Surprise

Chapter 3

Pranks and Presents

Chapter 4

Slipping Reality

Chapter 5

A Secret World

Chapter 6

Corey Tower

Chapter 7

Mystical Montage

Chapter 8

Sanctuary

Chapter 9

The Appeal

Chapter 10

First Blood

Chapter 11

Cost of Admission

Chapter 12

Witch, Please

Chapter 13

Sacrilegium

Chapter 14

Acceptance

Chapter 1

Eavesdropping

The thumping tick of an old analogue clock echoed in my head, drumming away the seconds. I wish I could say I’d been paying some kind of attention to my surroundings, but I can’t. I was too excited.

It was the last day of school, the last day before summer vacation, and most important of all, it was the end of my childhood.

Yep! Today is my thirteenth birthday. I’d been waiting for this day since I was old enough to understand the concept of time. The big one-three. I had the whole summer ahead of me. Next year I’d be a wholly new person, teeming with experiences and life lessons unknown to the lowly twelve-year-olds.

Being the last of my friends to finally reach this milestone, I was excited to have finally caught up. Though one final obstacle remained before me. Before I could properly ring in my birthday with a massive party to dominate all other parties, I had to go visit my grandpa.

The school’s obnoxious bell sounded from the intercom, jolting me from my daydream.

Earth to A-A-Ron! Raj yelled an inch from my ear.

What? I spun to face him, seeing that mischievous smile permanently etched on his thin brown lips.

Raj had been my best friend since kindergarten. Back then he couldn’t speak so clear and I guess he had trouble pronouncing my name. I don’t know why he continuously calls me ‘A-A-Ron’, but he’s the only one allowed to do so. I’m not a violent person but anyone else would get a knuckle sandwich.

Finally! I’ve only been trying to get your attention for the last five minutes.

You have it now. What do you want? Raj was notorious for making grand exaggerations. Just last week I made the mistake of being the first to fall asleep when I stayed the night at his house. When he pushed me off the top bunk he swears I floated to the floor, but speaking as the one who woke up on the floor, I’m pretty sure we both know what really happened.

I grabbed my backpack and began stuffing my books atop several already crumpled pieces of paper that had gathered in the bottom.

What time do you want me to come over? Oh, and how many people will be there? My mom is ordering us pizza.

We made for the door, joining the ever-growing sea of people filling the halls. The place was packed with kids struggling to escape. Locker doors were abandoned, many of them still open and displaying whatever trash had been left behind. A great deal was scattered about the floor, stomped into submission by hundreds of uncaring students, each one fighting toward the exit. That was one thing I could say about my generation. We weren’t the most courteous of sorts.

Raj walked beside me. He’d been talking the entire time though truth be told I hadn’t been listening. Out of nowhere his voice reached me across the roar of chatter.

Mags says she has a big game planned but she doesn’t want a big group.

What’d I say? A tall girl with pale skin and freckles fell in beside us. Mags was the first in our class to hit teenager status. She was already fourteen and several inches taller than me. Black streaks interrupted her sea of wavy red hair. She wore torn overalls stained with paint and an oversized flannel shirt over the top like a jacket.

Raj was saying you don’t want a large group for tonight’s game.

He’s right. Do you know how many are coming?

I shrugged. I’d only invited a handful of people but I had no idea who was planning to show. Raj and Mags were obvious. We’d only been talking about the big event for a month now, pretty much ever since Raj’s birthday. The truth was, I didn’t really like anyone else. The sporty kids were good to get in with if you wanted to be popular, which I didn’t. And the smart kids were bullied by pretty much everyone. Then you had groups like ours. We were neither involved in extracurriculars or considered overly smart, despite fair grades. We simply wanted to get by without too much attention.

I’ll plan for five. More than that and I can’t promise a TPK.

Good luck. Raj challenged. My rogue maxed on stealth last game. You’ll need a nat-twenty to even find me.

I wasn’t sure if it was sunlight hitting us as we passed through the front doors or something else but I saw the fire in Mags’ eyes. A smirk came to my lips.

Do you really want to test me?

I—um—no. Raj lowered his head in defeat. It was an unofficial rule not to challenge the GM. That was a surefire way to get your character killed.

We reached the bike rack and I quickly twisted the dials on my chain lock and stowed it in the side pocket of my backpack. Straddling the seat, I waited for them to get their bikes free.

So what’s the plan? Raj prompted as if he’d asked several times already.

I guess be at my house around five. I should be home by then. I have to go see my grandpa before I can do anything.

That sucks. Raj added.

"Whatever! I wish I could still go see my grandpa. Mags retorted. I’ll see you guys in a few hours."

I watched her ride away, disappearing in the mass of students headed for the car line.

When are you gonna tell her? Raj asked, failing to hide his smile.

Tell her what?

Duh. That you like her.

Who says I do? She’s cool but we’re just friends.

So says you. I know you have a crush on her. You always smile when she’s around. And you never give her crap like you do me.

Maybe that’s because she doesn’t pull stupid pranks on me all the time. It sounded harsher than I’d meant but Raj proved my point almost immediately.

I tried to place my feet on the pedals only to have them snag. I tripped and nearly fell over, catching my bike on the way down.

Raucous laugher bellowed from Raj as if he’d just witnessed the funniest thing ever.

I glared at him and looked down, finding my shoelaces tied together. I have no clue how he’d managed it but that’s the thing about Raj; he’s always doing stuff like that.

Maybe if you paid a little more attention I wouldn’t be able to get so much over on you. His laughter slowly faded away, as if every memory brough it back in a slightly weaker form. Finally, he sighed and turned to watch the busses leave.

You just wait. One of these days I’m going to pay you back for all the pranks you’ve played on me. I fixed my shoes and repositioned the seat.

I wish I’d been quick-witted enough to prank him before he returned to his senses. As it were, I wasn’t. I didn’t even know how I’d get him back. He lived for pranks. On more than one occasion he’d reminded me that a good rogue was prepared for anything. I couldn’t fault him there but I failed to see how expired fireworks or a sock full of dryer lint would come in handy during daily life. Sadly, those were just a few examples of the items occupying his backpack.

It’ll be a cold day before you get one over on me! Raj taunted, jerking the string of a party popper he’d somehow materialized.

Confetti exploded in my face and his laughter returned, though less genuine than before.

Shaking my head, I mounted my bike a second time and started down the sidewalk that ran the length of the school.

Raj caught up and we rode together for the first several blocks. It was a familiar path; down the alley, around the back side of the football field, and into the new subdivision just behind the school. In no time we were off school property.

Raj left me once we reached the other side and headed toward his home a few blocks away.

I continued forward, across the undeveloped field. It was a bit of a rough ride. The ground was uneven and waist high grass swayed in the afternoon breeze. I followed the narrow trail I’d ridden so many times before. I’m not sure what created it but it had been here as long as I could remember.

I pedaled my way toward the thick patch of trees at the center of the field. Some might have called it a small forest but I wouldn’t know. Not yet anyway. Today of all days was the day I planned to change that.

The sun was on the descent, making that orange haze it often cast in late summer, but it was still plenty bright.

I rode hard, my front tire aimed for the narrow path through the trees. I was just about to cross the threshold into the unknown when I slammed on my brakes and slid to a stop, the same as I’d done every week for as long as I can recall. At that moment I was fairly certain, unless something drastic happened between now and then, I’d do it again next week.

I wish I could explain my fear of the forest. Logically, there was no reason to be afraid. I could see straight through to the other side. The path was fairly straight and nothing looked out of the ordinary. Despite all that, I’d never been able to bring myself to step inside. A foreboding dread set in every time I even got near it.

I stared headlong into the shadows of the forest path cut through the scariest patch of woods in the world. I couldn’t move.

Drawing a deep breath, trying to calm the beating in my chest, I wiped the sweat from my forehead and watched it soak into my shirt sleeve. It was one of those weird times of year where it was cold in the morning and hot in the afternoon. Strange for the time of year but the weather patterns seemed to be off by about three months ever since the ice storm when I was a kid. How else do you explain snow storms in May or 90-degree temperatures in November?

I couldn’t help but recall the haiku my mom had made a habit of saying, especially when commenting on my clothing choices. She’d say I could add as many layers as I wanted but I could only remove so many. I’d learned it was sometimes easier to simply agree with her and be on my way.

The extra layers clinging to my skin felt constricting. I wanted out of them almost as much as I wanted away from the forest path that had tormented me for so long.

All my life I’d been made to visit my grandfather. When I was a kid my parents would bring me in the car. It was a longer distance but didn’t take near as much time. Then, when I was ten, I started walking home from school. My mom decided if I was old enough to walk home, I was old enough to visit my grandpa by myself. It wasn’t long after that when I got my bike and was expected to visit him every week— every week for the rest of my life.

The weekly trip had been cramping my style for quite some time now. It’s not that I don’t like my grandpa. In fact, as far as grandpas go, he’s probably pretty average, though I have no basis for comparison. It’s simply that visiting him cuts into the time that I could be doing other more important stuff. And if I’m being honest, I’ve always found him a bit strange; like he’s testing me for something I’m supposed to know but never do. For instance, the ability to be on time by crossing the forest path, which I constantly fail.

Honestly, I don’t know what the problem is. The forest just feels wrong. The tree limbs reach out like wispy fingers, waiting to grab me. Strange noises echo in the shadows. Movement passes out the corner of my eye but when I look nothing’s there. I can’t put it into words but it makes me feel uneasy. I start to sweat, even if I’m cold. My heart starts to race. My brain tells me to run far away and never return.

And yet, each week I return trying to work up the courage to race through and cut my time in half.

I glanced at my watch and silently cursed myself. I’d already lost fifteen minutes to this attempt and hadn’t managed to take a single step forward.

Lowering my head in defeat, I lifted my bike and turned left to begin the long ride of shame around the forest’s edge. It was still shorter than taking the road but not by much.

The early afternoon sun was nearly blinding by the time I returned to the world of paved roads and concrete sidewalks. A few minutes after that I reached my destination.

The large parking lot always seemed empty save for a few cars that changed places on occasion. The sign out front read Shad E Acres Retirement Home.

I always found the name strange, like a typo to what should have been a common enough name. Everyone called it Shady Acres anyway.

Truth be told, I’d never been able to understand why my grandpa chose to stayed in such a place. It was boring. There were several bricked buildings, all single story with the exception of an old clock tower along the far back row.

Not much else could be seen beyond the stone wall that wrapped the property. It felt like an impenetrable barrier, only accessible through the single gate at the head of the parking lot.

I’d been here enough to know everything even without seeing it. There were several concrete walkways that led everywhere. Perfect grass filled the areas between walkways and courts. It remained green year-round despite weather. My father claimed it was fake but I didn’t understand why anyone would bother with fake grass.

Beyond the wall reminded me of the playground at school; that is if the playground was much larger and had more than one basketball court and a few benches. This place had a swimming pool with two diving boards and numerous courts for just about every game I knew about. It even had a small golf course that people sometimes played.

I was slightly disgruntled that I’d never been allowed to drive the carts.

Even when people were out the place always felt empty, like they were there for show and nothing else. None of the people had ever talked to me or even looked my direction. If not for my ability to see them they may as well have not existed at all.

In fact, the only people who ever paid me any attention were the staff and my grandpa. It made me wonder what it would be like to live here, but I was fairly certain I didn’t want to find out.

I approached the guard shack and slipped the front wheel of my bike into the rack. Pressing the black button on the front of the metal box, a static voice echoed from the speaker.

Welcome back to Shady Acres. Come on in Aaron.

I was always surprised when the disembodied voice knew my name. I should have been used to it by now. They always knew who I was and I didn’t have the slightest clue who they were.

The metal gate buzzed and began to open of its own accord. I carefully stepped through and started down the walkway. The echo of my shoes on concrete was interrupted by the clank of the gate behind me.

In no time I was at the front entrance, a set of gray painted doors that eerily reminded me of the doors at school.

Inside I was greeted by the familiar plain white walls of the lobby. I suppose there’s only so much you can do with painted cinderblock. It made decoration difficult beyond that of an elementary school classroom.

The room was wide and narrow with a single wooden door to the right. There were blue cushioned chairs against the wall to the left of the entrance, and across the way a large glass window showed another smaller room with a door on its back wall.

The receptionist offered a smile through the glass. He looked slightly older than my dad and wore a strange white shirt that looked more like a bath robe by design. I guessed it was the uniform here. I’d seen