Sunshaker's War (50 page)

“And that's it,” Uncle Dale finished. “You guys ready to go home?”

“Lord yes,” David sighed. “I'm so ready I'd even let Alec drive.”

“Oh, no,” Alec protested. “Not me, not with your clutch!”

“Liz?”

“I've had enough of the Mustang-of-Death, David. You need to get your front end aligned.”

“I reckon I'd better drive, then,” Uncle Dale grumbled theatrically, with a wink at David. “You guys can sleep, 'cept—” He eyed Calvin speculatively, then grimaced and snapped his fingers. “Dammit…I
knew
I shoulda brought the truck. It's gonna be a tight squeeze for all of us.”

Calvin shook his head and smiled. “I'll walk,” he said. “I need to get some things out of my system, and there's nothin' like a good road trip to do that.”

“But you'll miss the wedding!” David protested.

“Nope,” Calvin replied. “I figure I'll just about take that long to get this stuff worked out. Tell you what: I'll give you a call if it looks like I'm gonna be late. One of you guys can come and get me.”

“One thing, though,” David insisted.

“What's that?”

“You've gotta join us for lunch. Way I've got it figured, we oughta just about be hittin' the mainland 'round lunch time. And there ain't nothin' in the world I like better'n fresh seafood.”

“You got any money?” Uncle Dale asked wryly, lifting an eyebrow.

David chuckled wickedly. “No, but I bet you do.”

“Besides, we could always sell a couple of David's hubcaps,” Alec ventured.

David aimed a kick at his bottom which he expertly avoided. “Fool-of-a-very-blind-Scotsman, I don't
have
hubcaps!”

“Got some clothes for you in the truck, though,” Dale noted. “Picked 'em up on the way. Thought you might need 'em.”

“Good job!” David laughed, giving him another quick hug. “Seems like I always end these things either naked or in rags.”

“I vote for the former,” Liz whispered in his ear before she nipped it.

“
I
vote we travel,” Alec sighed. “The sooner I get home, the sooner I can get to work on the ulunsuti.”

“And the sooner I can get to my chemistry,” Liz groaned. “Lord, I hope I don't fail.”

“You won't,” Calvin grinned. “I know you.”

Liz rolled her eyes. “But do I?”

“We could always
check
,”
Alec ventured, “now that we've got a pipeline to the future.”

“We will
not
!”
Liz said firmly. “And that's that!”

Uncle Dale's warning cough masked Alec's reply, and they turned and marched further into the woods.

*

Three hours later, in the white-sanded parking lot of Whidden's Steak and Seafood somewhere north of St. Mary's, they said goodbye to Calvin. It was not as tearful a parting as their leavetaking of Fionchadd had been, but it still hurt. They'd all been through so much lately that their minds were still reeling, their bodies pumping so much adrenaline they were almost giddy.

“
Sure
you won't come with us?” David asked the Indian. “I bet Alec'd let you sit in his lap.”

“Thanks, but no thanks, Dave,” Calvin replied, suddenly very serious. “I really do have some pretty heavy things I gotta think through. I've called Sandy and told her I'll be there when I get there.”

David flopped an arm around his shoulders and drew him close. “Just be sure you don't miss the wedding,” David said. “Don't forget you're a member of the MacTyrie gang now.”

“Always and forever,” Calvin acknowledged. “Wonder what color the tuxes are this mornin'.”

“Plaid, probably,” Alec shot back deadpan.

“Well,” Calvin chuckled, winking at David and grinning so wide David thought his head would split, “I doubt seriously it'll be my last one. I mean I'd
hate
to miss a wedding.”

“Long as they don't get to be too stylish, if you get my drift,” David laughed back, kicking at a stray oyster shell.

Liz pinched him.

“Looks like another war,” Calvin confided to Alec, as he turned to go.

“Yeah,” Alec replied, “and this is one I
really
don't wanta get involved in.”

Uncle Dale opened the car door and motioned his charges forward. “Take care,” he called to Calvin.

“Bye, y'all!” Calvin shouted, still backing away. David climbed into the back seat with Liz. Alec inherited the front shotgun.

Calvin was still waving as the Mustang grunted to life and rumbled away. The sun stood straight above him, highlighting his body against the surrounding tangle of trees, but wrapping his feet in a puddle of shadow. David stared at his friend, then at the sky, where the sun showed absolutely no sign of moving, then at his friend again. Finally he rolled down the window and raised his hand in salute.

About the Author

Tom Deitz grew up in Young Harris, Georgia, a small town not far from the fictitious Enotah County of the David Sullivan series. When he was a teen he discovered J.R.R. Tolkien, a writer who awakened his interest in fantasy and myth. He pursued his fascination by earning two degrees, a Bachelor of Arts and a Master of Arts, from the University of Georgia. His major in medieval English literature led Mr. Deitz to the Society for Creative Anachronism, which in turn generated a particular interest in heraldry, historic costuming, castle architecture, British folk music, and all things Celtic. Readers will also quickly realized that Tom was—as he said—a car nut who loved automotive details.

In
Windmaster's Bane
, his first published novel, Tom Deitz used his interests and background as he began the story of David Sullivan and his friends, a tale continued in
Fireshaper's Doom
and more books in the series. He won a Georgia Author of the Year award and a Lifetime Phoenix Award from Southern fans for his work. In addition to his writing, Tom was also a popular professor of English at Gainesville State College (today the Gainesville campus of the University of North Georgia), where he was awarded the Faculty Member of the Year award for 2008.

On the day after his birthday in 2009, Tom suffered a massive heart attack from which he never fully recovered, and in April of that year he passed away at the age of 57. Though he was never able to realize his dream of owning a small castle in Ireland, Tom had visited that country, which he loved, and at the time when he was stricken with the heart attack he was in the planning stages for a Study Abroad trip to Ireland that he would have led. The trip took place, and to a dirge played by an Irish musician on the uilleann pipes, some of Tom's teaching colleagues scattered his ashes in a faery circle.