Wizards At War

Nita swallowed, and picked up the remote to change channels. But even on the nonnews channels, she kept running into screens that said NEWS BULLETIN or SPECIAL REPORT. Even the main cartoon channel had a news crawl running along the bottom of its screen. Are the network people crazy? Nita thought, annoyed. Don’t they realize how scared little kids are going to get when they see that? Do they think that just because they watch cartoons, they can’t read? She changed the channel again, finding herself looking at another BULLETIN screen. What the heck’s going on around here?

But she knew. It was the local effect of the Pullulus, which Tom and Carl had predicted: people being pushed further and further away from one another. She threw the remote down on the hassock by her dad’s chair. “Daddy?”

And then Nita jumped nearly out of her skin, because he was right behind her; she’d been so preoccupied with the TV that she hadn’t even heard him. She grabbed her dad and hugged him, hard, and said, “What were you doing there?”

“I live here,” her dad said. “This is my house. And yours, when you have time to get home to it.” He hugged her back, looking over her shoulder. “I didn’t expect you to come home just to watch TV, though.”

“I didn’t,” Nita said. “Daddy, where were you? I was worried sick! I tried to call you, and I couldn’t reach you on the cell phone, and you weren’t in the shop, and you weren’t at home—” She was almost babbling, and she didn’t care. “I started thinking maybe you’d been in an accident—or, or—”

Her dad kissed Nita on the forehead and hugged her harder. “What is it they say,” he said, “about living long enough to worry your children? Guess I’ve done at least that.” He held her away from him. “I had to be out of the shop this afternoon,” he said. “I had to take Mike to the hospital.”

Nita stared at him. “What’s the matter with Mike?”

Her dad laughed a little, though the sound was rueful. “He had an allergic reaction to some lilies,” he said. “He swelled up in the most incredible hives. He couldn’t see to work, or even get himself to the hospital; I had to drive him.”

“Is he going to be okay?”

“Yeah, they pumped him full of antihistamines and cortisone,” her dad said. “He’ll be all right in a couple of days. Meantime, I have to handle the shop by myself and make the deliveries, so the place’ll be closed while I’m gone. It’s no big deal.”

“But your cell phone—”

“Oh, that,” her dad said. “Everybody’s been having trouble with their phones the past day or so. We had another of your solar flares. Didn’t Roshaun say we might get some more of those after he and Dairine and the others fixed the Sun?”

“Oh my gosh,” Nita said. “I forgot. So much has been happening, and I thought—” She sighed. “Never mind.”

“It’s a pity you weren’t here last night,” her dad said. “We had a really nice aurora. You’d have loved it.”

An aurora, she thought. When did I last have time to look at the sky for fun? “Daddy,” she said, “this is going to sound really strange, but what day is today?”

“It’s April thirtieth,” her dad said.

“Oh, no!” Nita said. “We have to be back at school on Monday; that’s as much time as Mr. Millman could get us! What if we can’t, what if…”

Her dad sighed and sat down in his easy chair, though he didn’t lean back. He looked at Nita, concerned, and then glanced at the TV. It was still discussing wars and rumors of wars. “I know this sounds unlike me,” he said, “but don’t worry about that right now. How are you doing with what you left to do?”

“It’s too early to say,” Nita said. “But things are really messed up.”

“Yeah,” said her dad. He threw another glance at the TV. “The news is so bad right now.” He shook his head. “Let’s not get into it. Sweetie, you should get back there and concentrate on your job.”

“But what about you?” she said. Sker’ret’s ancestor was on her mind, and Dairine had left a précis in the manual about her meeting with Roshaun’s family. All Nita could think of at the moment was her father, alone in an empty house at a bad time.

“I’m doing okay,” he said, looking her in the eye. “Don’t distract yourself. I can cope.”

“But—”

“Honey, things here may be going to hell in a handbasket,” he said, “but after what you’ve told me, I know why. So when I feel awful, at least I’m privileged to know what’s causing it. For the meantime, you let me worry about this planet, and I’ll let you worry about all the others. If what you’re doing works, we’ll all have less to worry about here.” He smiled, though the smile was pained. “Dairine’s all right?”

“As far as I know.”

“Good,” her dad said.

“I have to call Kit’s mama and pop and tell them that he’s okay, too.”