disappeared into the darkness of the fissure. Quickly he followed, his eyes immediately adapting to the difference in brightness.
James could see light at the other end of the fissure, which must have extended across the entire mountaintop. Kilani jumped up and grabbed hold of one of several ropes that hung just above their heads and began pulling herself up. James followed, using only his arms. He was again amazed at his new strength. By the time they reached the stone shelf around which the ropes had been secured, James felt energized rather than tired.
Directly across from the shelf hung a rope ladder. Kilani jumped, effortlessly caught the rungs, and began her climb. James followed, hoping the rickety-looking rope ladder had the strength to hold them both.
At the top of the ladder was a tunnel. Several bundles of fabric and ropes were stashed neatly on either side of the area against the cave walls. Kilani stepped forward and disappeared around a turn. James followed. She paused, standing in an opening. James could tell from the orange glow that the sun was setting. He stood next to Kilani.
“Give me your hand,” she said.
James took her hand, which was warm and surprisingly smooth. Their eyes met for just a moment. She took a deep breath and looked almost scared as together they stepped out onto the shelf. The instant the orange rays of the setting sun struck them, James felt as if he’d caught fire. They both immediately dropped to the ground, writhing in pain. Terrible screams could be heard across the island as the sun fell below the horizon.
— 9 -
November 1892, Wales
Nine-year-old James sat bolt upright in bed as a scream escaped his lungs, “Manukto!”
A tall, thin, and quite old man stood at the foot of his bed looking down at him. His pleasant expression turned to one of curiosity at the sound of the boy’s scream. James pressed himself against the headboard at the sight of the stranger. The man smiled and stepped toward him.
“Hello, James. I’m terribly sorry to startle you,” the man said with a smile.
The man had an aura about him that immediately put James at ease. The room was dark except for the glow of the fire. James found it strange that he had no fear of this man.
“What was it you were dreaming?” the man asked pleasantly.
“A tunnel,” said James. “I was being chased by… something terrible.”
The stranger appeared introspective for a moment then looked deep into James’s eyes.
“Do you know who I am?” the man asked.
“No, sir. I don’t believe we’ve ever met.”
“Oh, but we have, on several occasions. Although I would hardly expect you to remember them as you were so young. There was one time, as I recall, in the not too distant past when I called upon your parents. You were supposed to be sleeping however you decided to play in the gardens behind the house. I believe we met somewhere between the primrose and the catmint.”
James thought for a moment and vaguely recalled that moonlit night in the garden. Ever since he and his parents arrived earlier that day James had been drawn to the gardens, which contained numerous stone paths, fountains and even a hedge maze. That next evening, while his parents thought he was in bed asleep, James lowered himself from the window using an incantation his father taught him just one-week prior and made his way to the gardens. He had just finished completing the hedge maze for the seventh time when the man appeared. Like this night, the man’s appearance did not instill fear. Rather than hide in the shadows, which he could have easily done, James stepped out to greet the man. The man responded pleasantly and told James to run along back to his room before he was found out. His parents never knew he was out.
The man smiled along with James as if he, too, were enjoying the fond memory.
“So you do recall our previous meeting,” he said.
“Yes,” James said.
“Excellent. Then you know I pose you no harm.”
“Yes,” James replied again.
“Allow me to formally introduce myself. My name is Akil Karanis. I’ve been a friend of your father’s since you were but a toddler.”
James smiled but made no attempt to shake his hand. He simply nodded and drew the sheets higher under his chin. He was mesmerized by the appearance of the old man: short, pure white hair; a neatly trimmed goatee; and a long, brown duster over what looked to be a maroon suit.
Akil made his way around the foot of the bed and to the chair beside James. “May I sit?” he asked.
James nodded. Akil pulled the chair from under the table, turned it so it was facing James, and sat quietly. He leaned forward, rubbing his hands together.
“Now, boy, tell me. What do you know about magic?”
“I know everything I’ve been taught,” James replied. “And some things I’ve taught myself.”
“I hear you’re quite a prodigy. Will you show me something you’ve taught yourself?”
Completely forgetting his modesty for his want to impress this man his parents so often talked about, James quickly stood on the opposite side of the bed. He looked around and picked up his pillow. He looked at Akil, who nodded. James tossed the pillow into the air and said “ Ego-apur-menderatu.” The pillow silently exploded in midair. James held up his hands and the feathers and scraps of fabric hung suspended. He then began moving his hands as if rolling a large ball of dough. The remnants of the pillow began to swirl until they themselves had taken a round shape. James directed the mass over the bed toward Akil, who watched with impressed fascination. Once it was above Akil’s head, James said “Berrizegoratu,” and the pillow immediately reformed, and dropped on Akil’s head, who couldn’t help but laugh as it slid down his back and onto the floor. James smiled, slightly embarrassed.
“Very good, James. Most impressive,” Akil said, reaching behind him for the pillow. “And you say you taught yourself that?”
“Yes,” James said proudly.
“Tell me, how did you come up with that particular combination of words?”
“I hear people put together two words all the time. I thought, why not three?”
“And what made you decide upon those three words?”
“‘Break’: apurtu, ‘Stay’: egon, and menderatu. I just guessed which part of the word to use.
“Do you know what the third word in your incantation means?”
“No.”
“How did you come across it then?” Akil asked.
“I heard it used once and always liked the way it sounded. What does it mean, Master Karanis?”
“Akil. Please, my friends call me Akil, and I’d like to count you among them.” James nodded and smiled. “The word, menderatu, means to dominate,” said Akil. “Do you know what dominate means, James?”
“I think it means to beat someone,” he replied.
“Domination means supremacy or superiority over another. Tell me, James, do you recall who spoke this word that so captured your imagination?”
James knew exactly where he heard the word. Roughly a year ago his father had taken him across the sea to Italy on a large ship. One day during their voyage, James was making his way back to their cabin when he heard a man speaking with a distinctly deep and frog-like voice. He followed the voice to an open cabin door and slowly crept up and peeked inside. He saw a man with his back to the door running his hands across what looked like a large mirror, though James could see no reflection. The man repeated “menderatu” over and over as his fingers ran across the glass. The rest of the trip, James repeated that word until his father overheard him.
“What is that you just said?” Stuart asked, concerned.
“Menderatu,” James said, sheepishly.
“We do not speak such words in the magic tongue. It is a dark word. Where did you hear it?”
When James told him, his father quickly rushed him to the nearest empty cabin, and they transported off the
