Driving through D.C. with the sounds of sirens in the distance and knowing they were related to an event I had been involved with was a bit disconcerting. My stomach churned, Steph beside me clutching my hand. We were alone in the car, speeding away from the French Embassy, although at times I caught glimpses of my gargoyles moving through trees or along building tops.

“Where are we going?” I asked the driver, and leaned forward to see an older African-American man with his eyes on the road.

“You’re Mr. Jericho Daynes, correct?”

“Daynes?” Steph bit her lip, trying not to laugh. “How did I not know your last name all this time?”

I ignored her. “That’s right.”

“Then I can tell you. Senator Funai has requested your presence, and sends his regrets about not being able to make the event. We tried to find you, to intercept, but you’re hard to track down.”

“At times,” I admitted, glancing over at Steph. Her eyes showed the same surprise—a Senator? It didn’t make sense. Then again, I supposed anyone could be involved, so why not someone of that status? Actually, the more I thought about it, the more sense it made.

Before moving out here, my parents had encouraged me to watch a lot of news. They told me that kids shouldn’t go off to college still ignorant of the world, so I should know who was who and what was going on with current events.

Senator Funai was, if my memory served me right, one of the Presidential hopefuls in the next race. That was still a little over two years away, but a lot of the news channels seemed to consider him a sure thing for the office.

On the one hand, I wanted to ask why someone considering the office of President would be interested in me, but on the other, I realized real fast that anyone with magic would be much more likely to be in a position of power than those without. Hell, the idea of doing things in life I had never thought likely before was just starting to dawn on me. Fly into space and use my power to not get sick, to control aspects of heat if there were issues with the space shuttle… I don’t know. It all seemed so possible, though.

Would that be an abuse of my power? That was a question I’d have to address at some point, but at the moment I was too busy being excited to care. Steph had curled up next to me, hand in mine, staring out the window.

“You okay?” I whispered.

She nodded.

“He’s not…” I glanced up at the driver, then lowered my voice even more. “Not… with the enemy, right?”

She shrugged. “Not that I know of.”

“What, then?”

“It’s… me.” She motioned to her dress. “This isn’t me. Going to a senator’s house? Definitely not me.”

“It is now.”

Her short inhalation told me there was more to this sense of unease than she would be willing to tell me in the car with the driver listening. My thoughts were tarnished by a bit of a blizzard of emotions. On the one hand, I had grown up without much money. I was the type to run around with friends even worse off than myself, often getting into trouble. My circle had never looked fondly on the law, and even less so on those who had money. The rich always stayed rich while they kept the poor down, or at least we saw it that way. I had partially abandoned that way of thinking as I matured, and even more so when I found out about the opportunity to live with my aunt… er, Gertrude. Odd, how one stops hating those in a higher class when reaching that class oneself. But, this was different. My guess was that this senator was both rich and powerful, and that was another level completely.

Then there was the brainwashing from my parents, always going on about this or that corrupt politician. As far as they would be concerned, I was being driven into the mouth of the beast. A beast we should all understand, but a beast nonetheless.

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I glanced out the window again, unable to see my team but able to sense them in a weird mental sonar sense. That helped put me at ease, so I leaned back, eyed the increasingly large houses, and watched as we drove through the gates of a Tudor-style house with brick near the entryway, white elsewhere mixed with dark wood beams. To say it was a dream house was an understatement. While I had been in love with my aunt’s house the moment I had laid eyes on it, this was the next level. A yard sprawled out within the compound, large enough for several more houses to fit in, with tall hedges along the edge and rose bushes up alongside the house.

Letting us out at the driveway, the driver took off. The fact that my vehicle—or rather, the one we had taken from Gertrude’s place—was parked back near the French Embassy and we were now stranded was disheartening to say the least, considering the fact that I didn’t know what I was getting into, or even where I was.

A low whistle sounded, and I turned my head to see the shape of wings atop the house, almost hidden. I gave a return whistle, to let them know I was aware of their presence, very thankful, then took Steph’s arm and led her up to the door. It opened before we had the chance to knock, and an old man in a cardigan stood there, smiling with closed lips. He had short, white hair on the sides of his head, nothing on top, and wore brown, horn-rimmed glasses that complimented his dark complexion.

This was the man. Senator Funai, in the flesh. And behind him, Galahad appeared. Not stepped into view, but basically appeared as if summoned, as with Steph and her wraith knights. I shared a look with her, then turned back to them and said, “Hey.”

Senator Funai stepped aside and motioned us in. “Welcome.”

His home was pure white as far as the walls and furniture were concerned, with large potted plants, silver drapes along tall windows, and odd paintings of misshapen nudes. When he saw me eyeing what at first appeared to be a tree but then I figured had to be a penis, he cleared his throat and gestured to the side room where some couches awaited.

“Excuse me, where are my manners.” He approached Steph and shook her hand. “Greg Funai.”

“Stephanie,” she replied with a curt nod, briefly taking his hand before turning off to go sit on one of the couches. The senator and I followed.

“And your team outside?” the senator asked with a wink, eyes on me as I sat.

“I don’t know what you’re referring to,” I replied with a pleasant smile—or as pleasant as I could muster, considering that he had let me know he was aware of my secret weapon.

“Regardless, I’m glad to see that my people brought you here to me safely.” He paused, as Galahad leaned in, and apparently communicating, although no words were shared. “Is that so?” He turned back to me. “I understand you had some trouble? I apologize for that.”

“Nothing we couldn’t handle.”

“Still.” He gave me an appraising glance, then handed me a glass of port. “I assume you’re old enough to drink?”

“Actually, no, sir.” I set the glass aside, and his eyes followed it, staying there momentarily.

“Not even old enough to share a glass of port with, and yet… so much on your shoulders.” His eyes rose to meet mine again. “How is it, son, that you bear this burden?”

I looked to Steph for help. She shrugged.

“It would seem,” I said, “that I was either born with the latent skills, or else I was chosen based on my magical abilities, and in part I’ve earned it by staying alive at the right moments.”

He chuckled, nodded, and sipped his port.

“What can I help you with?” I asked, getting to the point.

He looked me straight in the eye, then beckoned for Galahad to come nearer. The knight stepped forward, bowing slightly.

“As you’re aware, the Order is fractured. Our enemies would not have been able to infiltrate the French Embassy this night otherwise.

“You have the Liahona. It’s up to you to see that the Order is restored. To expel evil from this world, and bring the power of Avalon to its rightful place.”

I eyed him. “And that place would be with you?”

“You know I am going high places,” he replied. “I have… good friends. Friends you can trust.” He gestured to Galahad, who nodded again. “Would you not want to be at my right hand? Support me, to ensure that the job I am destined to do is done in the right way, with those who would do evil to our great nation behind bars?”

“Perhaps,” I said, really wishing I didn’t have to be there. In truth, anything to do with politics was about as far off my radar as possible. The idea of helping anyone either get to the White House or stay there felt like a job for someone else. Not me. And what else was he saying? He would want me to use the magic of Avalon and my own powers to fight his enemies? What, like declare magical wars on other countries, use it to hunt down terrorists?

I held my head, a sudden thudding making it feel as if I was hungover in a rave club. Not fun.

The senator eyed me again, finished off his port, and then gestured to the door. “Nothing has to be decided tonight. I know you are the man for the job, and together we will make this world what it was always meant to be. Together, friend.”

He set the glass aside, took my hand, and shook it firmly before turning and walking off to ascend the stairs. When I looked down, I realized that he had left a card in my hand, one with a magic-looking swirl under his name and number. A simple business card, maybe?

Given the dismissal, I nodded to Steph and we made for the door. Halfway there, Galahad shot around in a burst of light, reappearing at our sides to walk with us.

“He isn’t wrong,” Galahad said. “They need you.”

“But, do I need them? Does the world?” I nodded farewell and exited, determined to learn the answer to that question.