When last we met: “As you can see here, the hurricane made an unusual northwestern turn in Georgia instead of following the coast,” said the meteorologist. “This horrific storm appears to be heading straight for the Great Lakes.” “That’s us,” the eagle said. “On its current trajectory the center of the storm will make an unprecedented strike on Northeast Wisconsin, of all things, on Halloween morning,” the meteorologist said, arching an eyebrow.

The two dogs, the elfin being, the eagle and I looked at each other around the TV set.

“The hurricane is the Evil One,” Grenn said.

“Or the Evil One caused the hurricane,” said the eagle.

“Does it really matter which?” said Dejah.

“Why is it so quiet in there?” Seth the Dragon called from outside the patio door.

The eagle hopped back outside and stretched his wings. The rest of us joined him.

“It seems we have a problem,” Grenn said.

“While we’ve been worried about those two fake Evil Ones consuming everything in their path, there have been a couple of hurricanes that consumed everything in their paths,” I said.

“They weren’t fake,” said the great buck. “They were evil, they just weren’t THE Evil One.” There were nods all around.

“And the next hurricane is coming this way,” I said.

“You don’t get hurricanes up this way,” said Seth the Dragon.

“That’s how we know it’s the Evil One,” the little elf guy said. “It’s impossible.”

“Mama, are you going to protect us from the Evil One?” asked one of the fawns.

“Aren’t you tired of crying ‘wolf’ about this?” asked the doe, turning to our small assembly. “Isn’t it more likely this is another fake?”

“They’re predicting that the hurricane will reach here on Halloween morning,” the eagle said, as if that settled the question. “That’s the time during the Time of Magic that the magic is strongest.”

There was a profound silence at this.

“I know a few guys,” Grenn said. “And all you need is a few [unpronouncable]s to kick some evil magic butt.”

“We’re going to need more eagles,” the lead eagle said, looking at his convocation of a dozen or so.

“I may be the greatest buck in these woods,” said the great buck, “but there are plenty of woods and forests between here and there.”

“And I’m certainly not the only dragon in the world,” said Seth the Dragon.

“I have a question,” said Summer, my gentle golden retriever, from the place by my side that she hadn’t left since we stepped back outside. “Why is it coming here?”

“That’s actually a very good question,” said Dejah, her elderly sister. “Why would all the evil be focused in this place?” 

As if on cue … (What, again?)

A spark appeared over the field in front of the mound. Slowly it grew into a rounded square, first about the size of a television screen, and then the size of an SUV, and then the size of a semi truck.

“Deer, take the kids back into the woods,” the great buck said to his mate. She gave him a little glare that might have been saying, “Why is that MY job?” but did turn back and herded the two fawns away.

The inter-dimensional portal — because by now we all knew that’s what it was — continued to grow until it was big enough for three worblatts to step through. And step they did.

It was Bellzy, and Bub, and another worblatt I didn’t recognize, but they were definitely all worblatts, about 20 feet tall, limbs like tree limbs, and faces like the trees in The Wizard of Oz except on their heads instead of their torsos.

“Wait, aren’t you —” began Seth the Dragon.

“— the guy you blasted into ashes?” asked the third worblatt. “Yeah, that’s me, punk.”

“You can’t keep a good worblatt down, huh, Clancy?” said Bub.

“Got that right,” said the third worblatt, who looked as grumpy as if Dorothy had been stealing his apples.

The three of them stepped back into stances that suggested they were preparing to dive into battle.

“Are you ready to rumble?” asked Bellzy. “Because we are.”

When last we met: Seth landed behind the green alien and set Summer gently on the ground. The dragon reared up just as the monster leveled his enormous gun directly at the house. “FOOOOOM!” And just like that, there was a black smoldering hole where the green guy had been. The giant gun clattered to the ground, sputtered a few sputters, and went silent.

“Summer!” I shouted. “It’s Summer!”

“Little sister!!” Dejah barked.

We ran to the patio door to slide it open, and Summer dashed up the stairs. The two dogs ran around the living room chasing each other, and then Dejah picked up the rubber circle and Summer grabbed the other side and they started a tug of war, growling with delight. After a few seconds of that, they dropped the circle and started running around the room again.

“Take it outside!” I laughed. The patio door was still open and they swept out and down the stairs again, running around the yard at each other until Dejah pulled up like an old dog that suddenly remembered she was an old dog.

“OK, OK,” the old dog said. “Where have you been? What happened to you?”

“He zapped us down to Red River Park,” Seth said. “Why have you never taken Summer there?!”

“No pets allowed,” I said.

“Right, we heard,” said the dragon. “And you always follow the rules, do ya?”

“Um —” I said, then decided to change the subject. “I think you saved my house, Seth! Thank you.”

“That was a very timely appearance,” said the buck.

“We were just about to strike ourselves,” called the eagle, “but I must admit dragon’s breath is probably more effective.”

“Shucks, folks, I’m speechless,” said the embarrassed dragon.

We stared at each other, and the dogs sniffed each other’s noses, and it was as quiet as it had been all day. 

“OK girls, in the house,” I said, standing at the patio door as they scampered back up the stairs.

I was surprised to see Grenn the elfin being follow them in.

“How do you get it so warm in here without a fire?” he asked.

“Sure, come on in,” I said. “Nothing miraculous, it’s just the furnace.”

“That’s that technology stuff I’ve heard about, I guess,” Grenn said. “Nothing that nature and magic can’t do better, I would bet.”

“Do you have anything like this out in the woods?” I asked, turning on the widescreen TV.  A meteorologist was pointing out the usual stuff on a big weather map filled with numbers and highs and lows.

“That is actually pretty impressive,” Grenn said, hopping into my TV-watching easy chair and starting at the screen.

I was kind of alarmed when the head eagle landed on the deck and hopped through the patio door. He followed Grenn’s stare and saw the meteorologist doing her thing, and looked around the back of the flat screen.

“How did she get in there?” the big bird asked. “Is this magic?”

The dragon poked his nose through the patio door but pulled it out almost immediately.

“No, that’s not gonna work,” Seth said. The white-tailed deer stayed out on the mound talking with the eagle’s friends.

“So, is that it?” I asked. “Have we foiled the great prophecy?”

“We haven’t even confirmed that this is ‘that’ day,” the eagle admitted. “And the prophecy spoke of the Evil One ‘consuming all in its path,’ which is not exactly what either of our two Evil Ones were doing.”

“Wait a minute,” Grenn said. “How do you turn the volume up on this thing?”

“What? Oh!” I said, grabbing the TV remote and pumping the volume button a few times.

“— still recovering in hurricane-devastated Florida and North Carolina,” the meteorologist said. “They were two of the worst storms in recent history, consuming everything in their paths. And this new storm is like nothing I’ve ever seen before.”

“Oh my stars,” Dejah said.

“What is it?” asked Summer.

“Look at her weather map,” her big sister said.

“As you can see here, the hurricane made an unusual northwestern turn in Georgia instead of following the coast,” said the meteorologist. “This horrific storm appears to be heading straight for the Great Lakes.”

“That’s us,” the eagle said.

“On its current trajectory the center of the storm will make an unprecedented strike on Northeast Wisconsin, of all things, on Halloween morning,” the meteorologist said, arching an eyebrow.