A STORM WAS WHIPPING up as Godric set the small Cessna down on the runway at the St. Paul Flight Center, just minutes away from the St. Paul business district. Though crews had been busily removing snow all night it was coming down so quickly a fresh layer coated the runway almost immediately.
Godric taxied to the hanger leased by his Uncle Brick Honeybun, a US Senator, for when he was in town and powered down. The flight had been tricky, with erratic air currents, visibility extremely low, and the near constant threat of ice forming on the wings. Once or twice Godric had been forced into near heroic measures to keep the small jet in the air. It had been so treacherous he hadn’t tried to unnecessarily terrify his passengers even once.
Mother nature had done that for him.
Percy dropped t
