The Legacy: A Custodes Noctis Book Read Free

what he would take with him tonight, pausing by the small shelf on the living room wall. He looked at the picture of his father and uncle and then glanced up at the plaque on the wall, ancient, heraldic, with the words Custodes Noctis on the coat of arms. At the end of a long list of names were his father’s and uncle’s, Paracelsus and Robert Emrys.
    “Going out tonight, Dad,” he said to the photo, to the room at large, in case his father had decided to haunt the place after all. “Rhiannon came by. Asked me to go along. I think she’s worried, considering what’s coming up, you know. Gods, I miss you two.” He smiled sadly at the picture. “I know, it’s not enough, is it? But you agreed when it happened, Dad. You thought it was for the best, too.”
    He sighed, walked into his bedroom and opened the closet. It served as a weapons locker of sorts. Galen ran his eyes over his collection, wondering what to take with him. Swords, a bow, several guns and a large super soaker water gun were on shelves. Oh, that’ll look great, sword, gun and purple-and-blue water gun, still if it works. He ran a hand over the two swords at the front of the closet, moving down the cool leather of the scabbards, lovingly repaired over many centuries. The gentle hum of the swords resonated against his palm. The lines of the ancient ritual played in his head. Hand to hand… He stopped himself, then with a sigh, he grabbed the falcata—his favorite sword—the 9mm and the water gun. He’d just closed the doors when he heard someone on the stairs, he froze for an instant, senses reaching outwards until he recognized the tread on the stairs.He walked back into the living room as Rhiannon opened the door.
    “You about ready?” She smiled when she noticed the weapons in his hands. “Don’t forget that all-purpose first aid kit of yours.”
    “Never,” he said with a laugh, the exhilaration that always hit him before a “party” already brewing. Galen walked into the bedroom and grabbed the satchel with the first aid kit. Bandages, sutures, antibiotic creams, herbs and a few magical items to treat the kind of wounds the things they played with could inflict. He picked up the small knife from the bedside table. It had a small blade and a sterling silver hilt, more a ritual knife than practical in any way, but it had been a gift. And he always carried it as a token of the giver. He had received it the day it all began, nine days before it all ended. “Do you like it?” Questioning eyes met his, unsure. “I saved up for a long time to get it.” Galen remembered smiling. “It’s perfect.”  An exaggerated sigh met that statement. “Oh, good.”
    “Galen? What are you doing in there?” Rhiannon’s voice broke into the memory.
    “Coming,” he said, shoving the knife in his pocket. He threw the satchel over his shoulder and walked back into the living room. “Are you eating my dinner?”
    “It was just getting cold in the microwave,” she said, spooning another mouthful of chili out of the bowl.
    “I did plan on eating that before we left.”
    “Oh, sure.” She took one last spoonful and handed the bowl to Galen.
    He looked down at it, then back at her. She was grinning. “Sometimes I swear, Rhiannon.” He laughed, then with a shrug finished the chili. “Let’s go.”
    * * * * *
    The park was quiet, the trees casting odd shadows in the light from the streetlamps. A soft whisper of wind rustled the leaves on the bushes as Galen and Rhiannon walked silently along the trail. A dark shadow separated itself from a tree. Galen nodded at the large man who slipped quietly up beside them.
    “Good to have you join us,” Greg Alexander said solemnly, nodding at Galen. “It’s always a pleasure when you come along to play.”
    “Thanks,” Galen said by way of greeting. Always he is so reverent, so aware of who I should be, not who I am.  
    “I heard something down by the gardens,” Greg said.
    “Okay, how do we handle