Free Wyvern and Company by Connie Suttle

over the railing to the football field below.
I blinked at Mack for only a nanosecond—he was growling and his eyes were going
strange.
    "Come on, dude, let's go with Dad," I shouted at
him. He let me grab his arm and drag him over the rail, where we dropped onto
the field and struggled past fleeing tuba players to get to my parents.
    By the time we got there, things had certainly changed.
    Dad had claws at least a foot long on his hands, and he was using
them to cut heads off a swarm of creatures attempting to get to him.
    Mom held a glowing sword in her hand—I had no idea where that
came from—and she was doing the same thing.
    Mack?
    He no longer stood beside me. A tall, almost shoulder-high
black wolf had taken his place. I watched in stunned surprise as the wolf
growled before leaping at one of the creatures that rushed Mom.
    Okay, that pissed me off. Those things were after Mom and Dad?
While I had no explanation for that, it made me madder than I'd ever been.
    More creatures were coming, too, and I was terrified they'd
hurt Mom. She was pregnant, after all, and that hit me like a ton of cinder
blocks.
    I went after the monsters, then, shouting at them to leave her
alone.
    Except that wasn't what came from my mouth. To my ears, it
sounded like a roar, and a really loud roar on top of that.
    There had to be at least two hundred creatures there. The wolf
took down his share. Dad killed many of them while Mom's blade flew faster than
the eye could follow. I had claws similar to Dad's, but where he remained
human, I saw my claws at the end of the most unusual appendages ever.
    Folded wings were held tightly beneath what I considered my
elbows, while I clawed, bit and spit out chunks of creatures before ripping
heads from their bodies. Beheading was the best way to kill them, I learned,
but I used my tail to protect my back.
    It whipped back and forth in angry, jerking motions, knocking
creatures toward Dad, Mom and the wolf. I didn't have time to question
anything—I only had time to protect my family and hope the other people got
away.
    People screamed, sirens screeched; someone from the press box
announcer's booth yelled that the southern entrance was the best way to escape.
Dad shouted at Mack and me, but his voice was lost in the confusion.
    I kept fighting—I didn't know what else to do—until there were
two monsters left. Dad killed one of them while the last creature thought to
attack Mom from behind. I lunged, swatting him with my tail toward Dad, who
neatly beheaded him as he sailed through the air. That creature, like all the
others, exploded in an angry, forceful blast of black sand.
    The ensuing silence was more frightening than the noise during
the attacks. I worked to catch my breath, my lungs sounding like a bellows as I
panted on the fifty-yard line. The wolf came to sit before me, his golden eyes
blinking at me in curiosity as I struggled to even my breathing.
    "Justin?" Mom's blade disappeared in her hand—to
where, I had no idea. She approached me slowly, her hand held out in a calming
gesture.
    "He doesn't know how to turn back," Dad said,
walking toward Mom. "Young Mack, are you all right?" He dropped a
hand on the wolf's head.
    The wolf turned toward Dad and whined.
    "Just think of being human again," Dad said gently.
The wolf disappeared and Mack reappeared—completely naked. Mom covered him up
with a blanket that magically appeared in her hands.
    "Justin? Son?" Dad came toward me. I didn't know
what to do, and I suppose my brain was too addled to think clearly. I had no
idea what I was and was only then beginning to feel like a monster myself.
    "You are no monster," a very tall, blue man appeared
before me. "You will stop thinking such erroneous thoughts immediately.
Now, I will help this time, but next time, you must do this on your own."
    He held out a hand and I dropped to the ground. My arms were
back to normal, at least—because I hugged myself while my breaths remained
ragged and