Free Cyrion by Abigail Borders

you. Or something.”
    Jon returned to lying on his back and resumed studying the play of elm leaves. “Yeah. It’ll be fun. You’ll see. And you’ll be staying with us in Grampa’s house, in Linwood.”
     Saul snorted. “Mum said it’s a Watcher town. Nice, safe, predictable.” He smiled, the tip of his tongue sticking out of his mouth. “Wonder what the three of us can do to change that? What do you all say? Let’s bring some life to the place. Sound like fun?”
    Jon rolled on his side and studied his friends. “Yes. That definitely sounds like fun.”
    The radiant smile that lit up Anya’s face was answer enough.
     

 
CHAPTER NINE
    THE GRAMPS
     
    Jon scrubbed his foot with sullen determination. After all that happened, all he accomplished, he still found himself thrust into the absolute worst thing in existence.
    A bath.
    A rose and lilac scented bath.
    A girly, rose and lilac-scented bath.
    With extra bubbles.
    Ugh .
    Even his Grampa Naeem couldn’t get him out of that one. Granted, they all stank of mud, sweat, and rotten eggs.
    But still .
    He and Grampa recognized each other as kindred souls the moment they met. Naeem answered all Jon’s questions and indulged Jon’s peculiar interest in geology. Together, they spent hours poring over Naeem’s samples of strange-shaped quartz, local limestone, and glassy volcanic rocks. He also took the time to show off his extensive collection of books as well as curious mathematical and alchemical instruments.
    Thwarting Arti’s numerous requests for anonymity, Grampa Naeem showed Jon all his favorite spots in Linwood.
    Jon loved his Grampa. And he knew Grampa loved him.
    Linwood was a neat little town. Grampa said it was a known Watcher town.
    When Jon asked what the term meant, Grampa Naeem said people know there are Watchers in Linwood. They just don’t know which Linwood residents were the real Watchers, with genuine Watcher tattoos, and who were only pretending to be Watchers.
    The bad times were finally over. Jon felt he could relax and return to being a simple boy.
    Unfortunately, being a simple boy also meant taking not-so-simple baths.
    Jon lowered his mouth into the warm water and blew frustrated bubbles as he studied the doors on opposite sides of the mudroom. One door led to the backyard and the other, to the kitchen. He considered making a run for the backyard, but decided against it.
    Mum might make him take another bath for the sheer fun of it.
    Besides, he didn’t have the key to the locked side gate that led to freedom. So he’d only trap himself in the backyard. With chickens for company. He studied at the kitchen door where his mother and Greta were currently preparing a meal of some kind. From the smell of it, something that involved garlic and ginger.
    “Jon, come on! You’ve got to be done by now,” Saul said from the kitchen side of the mudroom door.
    Grinning, Jon got out of the tub and dripped all over the stone floor as he searched for the towel and his clothes.
    “Mum, where are my clothes?”
    “Mine were gone too,” Saul said. “Put on whatever’s there so we can go explore.”
    Jon found a set of clothes neatly folded on the wooden bench sitting along one side of the wall. As he pulled the tunic over his head, he heard a croaky voice.
    “I tole you. You have to slice them garlic fin. Fin enough to almost see through. Wot you trying to do with them chunks, scare away vampires or somefin’?”
    “I’ve missed you too, Greta,” came his mother’s reply.
    Jon pushed open the mudroom door and saw Saul’s grinning face.
    “And you two, throw out the dirty water before you go. Can’t be expectin’ me to do it all. Not at my age,” said Greta, a tall, elderly woman towering beside Arti by the cutting board.
    Greta had a voice like a bullfrog with laryngitis, and a face like she spent most of her considerable lifetime sucking lemons.
    They turned around and went back into the mudroom. Jon took one handle and Saul the