Tallis stepped through the gate of the fence ringing the family farm and felt a weight lift from him. It was good to be home for a few days. The farm was nestled at the base of a low, rolling hill and surrounded by open fields of grasses and wildflowers. The land echoed with birdsong and always smelled fresh and sweet.

"Dads," he called out. "I'm back." He drew out the last word, smiling.

"Tallis," someone yelled back. His father, Norman, ran out of the barn. Norman was tall and broad shouldered, with blond curls and a thick beard. "I'm so glad you're home." He wrapped Tallis in a bone crushing hug.

Tallis slipped out of his grasp before his internal organs could be powdered. "I'm glad to be home too."

"How was it? Did you get enough to eat on the road? Did you find what you were after?"

Tallis held up his hands. "Dad. Please."

"I'm sorry, I'll stop," said Norman, laughing.

"I just don't feel much like talking about it. Can we do something else? Anything else?"

Norman gave him a look, concerned. "Whatever you want." He smiled but there was a tinge of sadness behind the expression. "I'll go get your other dad. Maybe he’ll knock off work early here, and we can make a nice family meal or something."

Tallis felt some of the tension drain out of him and his mind rolled back to simpler, happier times: times where loose minded idiots weren't dragging him out to murder houses, times where Faeland warriors weren't taking him to fight monsters, times full of early mornings and lazy afternoons.

A time where the most important job of the day was cooking breakfast with his father.

"A supper would be nice, if we cook it together."

Norman smiled and a twinkle lit in his eyes. "I don't know. You need to promise it won't turn into another flour battle."

"That is a tall order, Dad. I mean what else is flour even for?"

Norman ran a hand over his beard, thinking. "Couldn't tell you. I think it was invented just so you could leave white handprints on people and make a mess. But for the sake of Edward’s sanity, no flour fight this time. He damn near took my head off over the last one."

Tallis grumbled and rolled his shoulders, limbering up his flour pitching arm. "I'll do my best, but I can't make any promises."

"Sure," he patted Tallis on the shoulder, kicking up a small cloud of dust. "Why don't you wash up, then we can get to work."

A quick scrub later, and he'd managed to scrape off most of the filth from the road. He stepped into the kitchen and pulled his apron off the low hook on the wall. It was set so a child could reach it and while he now had an adult sized apron, his parents had never seen fit to give him an adult height hook.

Norman was waiting for him in the kitchen. A mixing bowl sat out on the counter and the floor bin had been left temptingly open. “Do you remember the old family bread recipe?” he asked.

“Dad,” said Tallis, incredulous. “I’ve been using that recipe since I was six years old. I can make that bread in my sleep. I’m pretty sure on some days I did make it in my sleep.”

“Great. You can start with that.” Norman laughed. “I was worried that you’d forget with all the time you’ve been spending in the city lately.”

“I’ve only been with Cold Iron for a year. One year away won’t erase eighteen years of habit.” While he spoke his hands moved of their own accord, putting the ingredients together and kneading the dough.

They quickly fell into the easy rhythm they always shared in the kitchen and the house filled the smell of fresh baked bread, the sound of laughter, and a feeling of warmth that had nothing to do with the heat spilling out from the oven. It was hard work, but pleasant work, and they talked of small things while they cooked: shared the latest gossip, traded easy stories. Tallis made an effort to dodge any questions relating to his latest adventure. If he could just forget about the devil in the forest that would be fine by him. He suppressed a shudder, the fetid smell of the thing seemed to be burned into his nostrils, and the sight of black wings against the darkness was permanently pressed into the corner of his eye. He felt like a child again, frightened that monsters would jump out from the closet or under the bed. On some level, when he’d been a child he knew that the monsters he imagined weren’t real, that everything was safe, but now he’d come face to face with that beast in the darkness and he knew that there were things in this world far more terrible than his childhood imagination could have dreamed.

The back door creaked open and Tallis jumped, his hand falling for the snub nosed pistol that was no longer there. His breath caught in his throat for just a moment and then the door swung open all the way, leaving his other father Edward standing in the doorframe. Ed was short and whip thin with skin like mahogany. He limped through the kitchen and sat at the dining room table, pulling another chair around and resting his left leg on it with a wince.

Norman dropped what he was doing and helped Ed take the brace off of his left knee. It was an uncomfortable contraption of leather straps and steel bars, but Ed couldn’t walk well without it.

“I need to run out and oil this,” said Norman. “Don’t want it to rust. Watch that them ‘taters don’t burn.”

Ed looked around the kitchen. “You cookin’ a feast or what?”

“Something like that,” said Tallis with a shrug. 

"Well, you picked a good day for it. It's the last day of summer. We should take some time, celebrate the change of seasons, say thanks to the land around us."

"Sure," said Tallis, turning the venison steaks frying on the stove. "Is there anything in particular you want to do?"

Growing up he'd never had much of an interest in Ed's beliefs. He knew that he revered nature and the land but that was about it. Most of Ed's worship was done outdoors and Tallis had wanted nothing to do with anything outside the house. Maybe it was time to change that.

"There's not much to it," said Ed. "Moons should still be full tonight if you want to come with me."

"I'd like that."

Norman returned with Ed's knee brace. "What are you two scheming about in here?"

"Nothing," said Tallis, dishing the food out. "We definitely didn't poison your food, and we certainly won't buy a better house with the insurance money."

Norman sat down and took a bite of potatoes. "Good luck with that." He pointed to Tallis with his fork. "If I'm not here that means you have to clean out the horse stalls."

"Fine," said Tallis, wrinkling his nose. "I'll put the antidote in the desert then."

They all shared a laugh.

"I'm glad to have you back," said Ed. He leaned back in his chair and wiped some bread crumbs from the corner of his mouth. "Norman isn’t much of a baker."

"Hey! I bake just fine."

"Only if you like burnt stuff."

Norman laughed. "Once. I burned a batch of biscuits once in the week he was gone."

"But you only made biscuits twice. So that means you burn half of the biscuits you make. Not really a great track record."

Ed tapped Tallis on the arm, stopping him from cutting the last bit of meat on his plate. “If you’re coming out with me, best save that. You need to bring a little something for the spirits.”

When they finished their meal, Norman took the plates and bundled the leftovers up into a bit of cloth. “I’ll handle the cleaning here if you want to head out.”

Ed nodded and strapped on his knee brace, limping to the closet by the back door and drawing out a well worn lever action rifle and a box of shells. He set the gun on the table and dumped out a handful of bullets. 

Tallis raised his eyebrows at the weapon and leaned away from the gun. “We’re not expecting any kind of trouble are we?”

Ed fed a round into the gun’s magazine. “No. Just better to be safe than have a wolf bite you on the arse. Why don't you change into something a little more casual, then we'll head out.” 

Tallis frowned down at his outfit. "This is casual. I'm not wearing a tie or a jacket."

"Then change into something, I don't know, rustic. I don’t have the same amount of five dollar words as you. Just wear something fit for outdoors.”

“You can take something out of our closet if you need to,” said Norman.

When they were both ready, Ed picked up the rifle, levered a shell into the chamber and planted a kiss on his husband’s cheek. “We’ll be back later tonight.”

Tallis followed him out into the cool evening air. The sun was settling down towards the horizon and rays of gold reached down to touch the treetops. They walked in silence for until they reached the edge of the trees.

Ed patted a worn leather satchel slung over his shoulder, glass clinked together inside the bag. “I’ve got everything we’ll need in here. You sure you want to do this?”

“Yeah, I’m sure,” said Tallis. He squinted out into the shadows lurking between the trees. Surely his dad could hear his heart beating all the way from over here. “Unless you don’t want me here.”

“Don’t speak so foolish.” Ed’s tone was gruff but his expression was hurt. “The change of seasons is important to me and I will always be happy to have you here. I don’t ever want you to think otherwise.”

“Thanks, Dad. I’m, um, I’m just a little nervous out here doing this.” Tallis tugged at the bandana he’d tied around his neck, loosening it. He’d picked a rough yellow shirt, a pair of jeans and a hat to go with it, all from his fathers’ closets. Nothing he owned felt like it was ‘fit for the outdoors.’

“Come on.” Ed waved them into the woods. “There’s nothing to be nervous about. This is a quiet forest.” A soft rustle passed over their heads. Dark wings slid over the setting sun. Tallis dove for cover. Ed caught him and lifted him to his feet. “Hey, easy. It’s okay. Look.”

Tallis looked to where his father had pointed. A huge white owl sat on a branch above them. It hooted and ruffled its feathers, sending a cloud of yellow sparks dripping down from its wings.

Ed clapped him on the shoulder. “Storm owls are a good omen. We’re going to have a good harvest and an easy autumn.”

The owl looked down at Tallis and narrowed its eyes in a friendly way, going from alert and watching for threats to relaxed and trusting. It flapped its wings and a crack of thunder echoed out from its feathers. The owl flitted off its branch and they followed it, heading into the trees.

“You’re sure it’s safe out here? The last time someone told me that we had a pretty bad day.”

Ed held the rifle out towards him. “Make you feel any better if I let you carry that?”

“No.” He held his hands up and as far away from the gun as possible. “What is that Norman always said about my marksmanship?”

“Shit, I don’t think you can call anything you do ‘marksmanship’ he said you couldn’t hit the broad side of a barn with a handful of gravel.”

“Right, so I’m going to let you carry the gun.”

“Do you want to talk about that bad day? Something happen while you were away?”

The sun sank lower, painting the sky with shades of pink and violet. Tallis told the story of his run in with the Devil and the Fae.

Ed let out a low whistle when the story was finished. “I’m surprised you made a deal with one of the Greater Fae and lived to tell the tale.”

“That’s not the part I’m worried about. The Fae was fine. He was friendly even. It’s the monster that bothers me. I keep expecting one to jump out of every shadow or swoop down from the clouds.”

“Let’s stop here a second,” said Ed pointing to a stump. “I need to rest my leg. I ever tell you what happened to my knee?”

Tallis sat on the ground next to the stump, shaking his head.

“Long time ago now, back when I worked under the local sheriff. So, there we were patrolling this long and lonesome road for a gang of outlaws we’d been chasing. We’ve got camp made for the night when this huge shape comes lumbering out of the trees. A giant. We panic and start firing at it, of course it does nothing but piss the thing off. So, it picks me up by the leg and squeezes. Bone snapped like a twig. I couldn’t go back into the forest for months, even after I could walk again. I would see giants in every big rock, every long shadow, every tall tree.”

“So what did you do?”

Ed spread his arms wide. “This. I met an old Faeland sage who took me out into the woods and taught me to appreciate what I had, the land around me, the life I had left. It was comforting for me to feel like I was a part of something larger than myself. I had a lot of good friends to lean on too. Talking through a problem never really hurts.”

He stood and motioned for Tallis to follow him. They walked until the stars came out and the moons rose. They stepped into a clearing bathed in silver light. The trees parted, giving way to a patch of sweet smelling grass and bushes laden with berries. A pair of yellow eyes glinted at them from the underbrush.

Tallis stumbled as panic seized him. He froze, an icy fist clenched around his heart. Breathing in ragged gasps, he stepped back out of the clearing.

Ed put a steadying hand on his back and stepped up, pushing Tallis back into the clearing. “Steady. Nothing is going to hurt you.”

Tallis tried to speak but only succeeded in producing a panicked squeak.

"It's okay. We're safe here." Ed reached into the satchel and pulled out a bundle of cloth. He opened it and tossed a few strips of leftover meat towards the bush. A coyote slinked out of the underbrush, lean and hungry. It gulped down the meat without chewing and ran off into the trees.

“See?” said Edward. “Safe. Some of the creatures you run into might be a little meaner, a little tougher, but most of them aren’t out to get you. They’re just looking for a meal.”

“Right,” said Tallis. “And what if they're looking to make me into a meal?”

“That’s a simple answer then: you fight or you get eaten.” Edward reached into the satchel again and pulled out a handful of small white crystals. “You’re, uh, not going to throw me in the clink for these are you?”

Tallis smiled and snatched one of the crystals, turning it over in his hands. “A tiny little gem like this isn't really worth my time. Especially for whites, can’t really store a whole lot there. You’d get what? An hour of light out of these? I’d worry a little if you busted out some reds or greens, but these are fine.”

Edward set the gems in a circle around the clearing and placed a bundle of herbs in the center of the circle. He took Tallis by the hand and led him into the center of the clearing. “Here. I want you to see something.” He struck a match and set fire to the bundle of herbs. The clearing filled with a green spicy scent and a thin veil of smoke. A whispered word brought the gems to life and set them glowing with a soft white light. He sat down in front of the smoking herbs and motioned for Tallis to sit across from him. “Watch the smoke. It flows the same way our own energy does. Negatives make it pool up. Positives let it float away.”

Tallis sat and watched the smoke pool around him. It stuck to him and settled low to the ground.

“See how it puddles up under you? Not good. So close your eyes. Give me a couple of deep breaths and just hold whatever’s bothering you in your mind for a second. Breathe in and hold it. Now, breathe out and let it go.”

Tallis did what he was asked, not really expecting anything to happen, and opened his eyes. A thin curl of smoke rolled up and away from him. They repeated the process until the light in the gems burned low. The last of the smoke cleared.

“Well,” said Tallis. “I actually feel a little better.”

“You didn’t expect it to work?” Ed laughed.

“Honestly, not really.”

“Well, I’m glad it helped anyway. There’s always something I like about seeing my problems literally float away.”

Tallis stood and collected the spent gemstones. “Is that it?”

Ed opened the bundle of leftovers again and put the last bits of meat on a flat rock at the edge of the clearing. “We’ve taken care of us. Now we have to say thanks to the world around us.” He took two bottles of beer out of the satchel. “We always leave a little bit out for the forest spirits for luck. You don’t want to leave them pissed off.” He handed Tallis the second bottle. “And we drink the last of the summer beer.”

“What’s our reason for that?” Tallis took the bottle.

“Because the summer beer was damned good. And it gives you something to do with your hands while you thank the earth for everything it’s given us. Just be quiet and appreciate for a while.”

He opened the bottle and sat in silence. The last few days had been rough for sure, but at least he still had a home to come back, great parents, and plenty of food on the table. All things considered, he had a lot to be thankful for. 

When the beer was gone, they packed up the empty bottles and left the forest feeling lighter, happier. Tomorrow was the start of a fresh new season, and good news was on the way. It had to be.