Mage of Wolves의 모든 챕터: 챕터 121 - 챕터 130

I did dream of Sam that night. I awoke as the sun was rising, remembering only that my dream had consisted of the two of us together, in bed, but I couldn’t remember the details. I fully expected to open my eyes and find him gone, but he was still there.He wasn’t asleep either. I glanced at the clock and saw it wasn’t even 7:00, so it was quite early for

My eyes scanned the back yard as I tried to understand what I was looking at. I saw my four pack members standing closest to the porch, but they weren’t the only wolves that had come to help us face off against Verina. Across the yard, there were dozens of other wolves, some standing by themselves, others in small packs, all of them looking up at Grandma and I where we stood on the porch, all of them appearing to pledge their allegiance to our cause.

Sam’s teeth made contact with the hem of Verina’s long black cloak pulling her down slightly, back toward the ground, as the ball of fire hit him squarely in the side, near his right haunch. He yelped and let go of her, falling to the ground. I didn’t have my powers ready in time to prevent it, but I did send a wave of what I hoped was healing light in his direction. Her flames didn’t last long as the white light left my hand and extinguished them. Sam fell to the ground in a heap. I wanted to see if he was okay, but I couldn’t at the moment. Verina was still coming my direction, Sam’s attempt at distracting her doing little to stop her. 

 “Grandma!” I cried, on my knees next to her. Already, my power pulsed through me as I gripped her hand and did what I could to try and revive her. There was blood all over her tattered red cloak. Her face was scratched deep, and her left arm was mauled so badly, it reminded me of a tube of hamburger from the market.

I felt like it should be raining. On TV, whenever someone dies, and there’s a funeral, everyone always wears black, and it’s raining. Even the umbrellas are black. People stand around a hole in the ground, weeping, as a coffin is slowly lowered inside. A priest crosses his chest, and everyone says amen.That’s not at all how Grandma’s funeral went.