Verena's Whistle: Varangian Descendants Book I

some power. Unfortunately, this time, there is a haze over my Sight. It is this haze that has prompted my urgency. If something came through and is using illusion magic to mask its movements, we must know of it,” Uncle Alex stated quietly.
“But why is it our responsibility?” Theo asked, echoing the question that popped into my head next.
“Because we are the descendants of the dauntless Varangians,” said Aunt Sophia fiercely. “We are the only ones who can wield magic in this world. If something dark has come through the portal, human governments will try to capture it, to study it. If that happens, no one will be safe ever again. Some of the besy are very powerful and very compelling.”
Grandpa Basil’s hands danced in the air and this time a tall man appeared. No, not a man. The pupils of its eyes were slit like a goat and its hands had only three fingers each. It had tall horns on its head. We watched as it strode forward through a field of tall grass. A sword materialized in its right hand, glowing with red fire, and it swung the sword forward to strike down a modern soldier that appeared before him. The sword cut through the camouflaged fatigues lightning fast and the soldier collapsed. The demon kicked the soldier from the sword and raised the bloody blade high. Behind it a giant army roared.
I raised my hand and waved at the creatures hovering in the center of the room. “I hear what you’re saying and I see the necessity. But what about my degree? Theo’s school too? Julian’s job? We’re just supposed to walk away from our lives? How long are we talking about being gone?”
Uncle David nodded at me. “It’s a hardship, I know. I will do my best to smooth things over with your schools and your jobs. Please make me a list of your professors and close contacts and I will visit them all. It won’t be a long-term solution, but I think I can get you a few months. After that, they will remember. You will have to take your classes over again this fall, of course, but no one will miss you, I don’t think.”
Theo looked at his father with concern. I knew what he was thinking. Uncle David rarely used his magic. He would feel sick for weeks after using it this much. Delicately planting thoughts via telepathy required a very skilled practitioner. David learned the secrets from Agatha herself when he was a young man but that was a long time ago. If he had this level of talent, it was a surprise to me. It was a day for revelations. I look speculatively around the room to see if anyone else was going to admit to special magics.
Theo abruptly stood and walked to the entry. He grabbed his boots, coat, and hat and stepped outside, shutting the door sharply behind him. I stood as well and smiled at Uncle David. “I’ll go talk to him,” I said.
I snagged my coat, hat, and mittens, as well as a larger pair for Theo, and stepped into my bunny boots. I followed a set of tracks around the side of the house and saw Theo standing near the tree line. I walked over to him, handed him the mittens, and said, “Are you worried it’s too much for him?”
Theo was just three years younger than me and it still felt weird to have to look up to see into his eyes. They were blue, just like everyone’s on the magical side of the family, but while mine were a dark color, almost navy, Theo’s were bright and generally sparkling with mischief. He had curly, dark hair and delicate, almost feminine, features with a pointy chin and sharp cheekbones. He was in a computer science master’s program in Seattle and, like Uncle Alex, had a very strong second sight.
We’d always been close friends. For instance, I knew that Uncle David had some health problems a few years ago with his heart that, after subtly questioning my parents, I knew he did not share with anyone else in the family. “How has he been feeling?”
Theo kicked the snow and pulled the mittens on over his long, thin fingers. “He’s been doing fine. He goes regularly for checkups and takes his medicine.” We started to walk along the edge of the yard. The snow squeaked. “I know that implanting suggestions is hard for him though, and I won’t be here to check on him. None of the others know about his condition. Since Mom died, I’m all he has. What if he pushes himself and he collapses again?”
I thought of Uncle David, tall and strong, his beard flecked with gray, and his sad eyes. “I think you have to trust him to know what he’s doing. The way he’s trusting you.”
Theo huffed out a laugh that sent the mist from his breath straight up into the air. “You’re right.”
I heard barking through the trees on our left and the neighbor’s malamute, Denali, raced toward us through the snow. His face was eager; his bark was happy. I whistled a cheery hello and he jumped around my feet, excited for pats. Theo’s face lost its pinched, worried look and he bent to pet the fluffy, sturdy body too.
Abruptly, Denali stopped romping and cocked his head. His ears and tail came to attention, his amber eyes focused, and a low growl snuck out. He stared at the edge of the yard where the fenced chicken coop sat. Theo and I turned to look as well and in the sudden quiet, I heard a snuffling sound from behind the coop. I knew what this was.
Quietly, I whispered to Theo, “Go into the house and grab the shotgun. It’s right inside the door. There’s a bear.”
Theo whispered back, “No way. I’m not leaving you out here. We’ll both go in.”
“I’m fine. It’s only interested in the chickens.”
Theo nodded and started slowly