Verena's Whistle: Varangian Descendants Book I

they were separated for a long time. Leon served in the French army and then, after the surrender, fought in the resistance. Irene, however, was paranoid about the Germans discovering her origins and her magical skills. She fled France to the east and lived out of touch for a long time. When the war ended, they were no longer close. Leon married and had my father, Matthew, in 1946. Irene would visit, whenever she was in the area, but Leon was angry with her for abandoning him and my grandmother thought her stories were signs of delusion. They never got along. Irene tried to make amends to Leon and managed to spend some time with Matthew, but when she died in 1960, they were still at odds.”
Owen paused. Grief seemed to etch his face with hardness, briefly. “I never met her, obviously, but she left an indelible impression on my grandfather and my father. When she died, they expected the Varangian family to show up. But you never did.”
Julian looked at the other man with grave eyes. “We didn’t know,” he said.
Owen nodded and continued, “So Grandpa and Gran left France and moved to Montreal. They wanted Matthew to have a fresh start, away from the memories. Leon took with him the journals that Irene left with him, but he refused to read them or teach Matthew to fight.
“Matthew read Irene’s journals however, in secret. He decided, on his own, that he wanted to be a soldier like Irene, so he joined the Canadian military. In that time, that meant NATO deployment, so back he went to Europe. Grandpa was not happy with his choices. Matthew served for 15 years before he met my mom, retired, and moved back to Montreal.
“Leon died in 1996, but Matthew knew that one day, your family would try and find out what happened to Irene’s journals. He kept in touch with Père Vianney and when I was old enough, told me the stories too.
“I’ve read the journals and I can fight,” Owen stated firmly. “If something is happening now involving the supernatural creatures that Irene spent her life chasing and killing, I want to help.”
Julian started to shake his head.
“I served too. I joined up right when I turned 18 and I only just got out. Ten years as a NATO peacekeeper. I was in Afghanistan. So, don’t tell me I can’t handle whatever it is you’re doing.”
Julian held up his hands, “Whoa, whoa. I’m not telling you anything. I’m just being cautious. You don’t have all of the information yet.”
Owen exhaled. “Sorry. I got excited. My dad’s been waiting his whole life to be involved with the Varangians, as he called you, and now he’s in his late 60s. He called me as soon as he heard someone, a very strong someone, was asking about Irene and I flew to Paris last night. I knew your name, so I started calling hotels this morning.
“My dad idolized Irene. I feel like I owe it to him to help you as much as I can.
“I know I just blurted a lot of information at you. I’ve been rehearsing,” Owen added self-consciously. “I can leave this journal with you. The others, there are about ten more, are at my dad’s house. He can ship them wherever you want.
“They’re also digitized. We scanned them about five years ago. Some of them were starting to fall apart.”
“Really? That’s amazing,” Julian said slowly. He was thinking hard. “Okay, I’m going to tell you what’s going on. Then you can decide if you really want to help or not.”
Owen agreed and settled deeper into the couch.
Julian told him everything. The real story of the family’s origins, the magic, the besy, and the new information about the meteor blast in Russia a few days earlier.
“Right now, my cousins, Verena and Theo, are in Russia checking to see if this is all a wild goose chase. At this point, we don’t think it is. While they haven’t physically seen any creatures yet, the signs are there and Theo’s magic, at least, is responding to them.
“If you’re still in, I think we need to get there as soon as possible.”
“Do they have weapons?” Owen asked.
“They shipped a bunch from the States, but I don’t know if the crate’s arrived yet. Can you use a sword, crossbow, anything like that?”
Owen laughed, “Swords? No, I can’t use a sword. I was in the army. I can use a gun, and I have some martial arts skills. You guys don’t use guns?”
Julian shrugged. “We can’t; they won’t fire for us. Your great grandmother speculated that we have too much magic in our blood. Uncle Alex can’t use a cell phone; the screen just turns black if he touches one. In my mom’s generation, she was the first one who could drive a car.
“The magic interference seems to be decreasing with each new generation. I can drive and use a cell phone. But guns are still off the table.”
“Do you think they would work on the beasts?” Owen asked.
“Honestly, I have no idea,” answered Julian, shaking his head.
“Okay, I’ll ask my dad to ship some stuff to us in Russia and we’ll see.”
Julian nodded. “Can’t hurt.”
He added, “I’d like to get the actual, physical journals to the aunts and uncles. They’re all staying at the farmhouse in Alaska for the time being and they’re not going to be able to access the digital versions.”
“Sure,” Owen answered. “I can tell my dad to ship them today too.”
“Then let’s send the link to the digital versions to Very and Theo, and me, of course. We can divvy them up between the four of us and search for anything useful to the current situation.”
Owen agreed again.
“All right,” Julian said and stood. “Let me make some phone calls and then let’s head to the airport.”

Chapter 11
The rental house advertised itself as a chalet and it looked like something that belonged in the Swiss Alps. It was an A-frame with