Each stone except the one upon which James stood rotated then lowered creating a descending staircase. Slowly, James made his way back down to the garden.
“What do you think?” he asked, as the last stone settled into its place along the path.
“Very impressive,” Stuart said. “When did you learn that?”
“Just now.”
Stuart and Margaret exchanged glances.
“Run along,” Margaret said. “You don’t want to keep Mr. Ammoncourt waiting.”
James took off at the same breakneck speed at which he had arrived, making his way excitedly around the house. Stuart and Margaret looked at each other and laughed. Stuart took her hands and pulled her close. There was an energy between them neither had felt since shortly after James was born. Margaret ran her hand over the stubble on Stuart’s cheek. He leaned in and kissed her, pulling her close, his body touching hers.
“Ahem,” a voice said from behind them.
The pair turned, giggling like school children, to see a very old man. Hunched over an ornate wooden cane, he looked at them through spectacles thicker than windowpanes. What hair the old man had left turned white long ago. The sweat on his brow and his labored breathing indicated he hadn’t stumbled upon them during a leisurely stroll.
“Mr. Ammoncourt,” Margaret said, “what can we do for you?”
“Your son is quite gifted. I wonder why you won’t send him off to school.”
“We prefer to teach him ourselves,” Margaret immediately replied.
“A sorcerer of his potential should learn from the best.”
“As is our opinion, which is why we called upon you, Mr. Ammoncourt,” Stuart said.
Mr. Ammoncourt smiled and appeared to lose his train of thought. After a moment, he shook his head as if clearing it and refocused his attention on the couple. “I should like to take the boy to see council headquarters. Every child goes at his age to see the heart of our culture.”
“I’m afraid that isn’t possible at the moment. We are not at liberty to divulge the details, but were told by Tabitha Ogilvy your discretion regarding these teachings would be paramount.”
“Yes, of course. I apologize. I just thought… well, it isn’t important.”
Mr. Ammoncourt waited for Stuart or Margaret to take the bait, but neither obliged. When he realized the conversation wasn’t progressing as he’d liked, he gave the couple a smile, gripped his cane in his hands, and turned back toward the house. When he finally disappeared around a corner of the house, Stuart looked at Margaret.
“Strange old fool, isn’t he?”
“Tabitha said Akil highly recommended him. He said they have quite a history together.”
Margaret and Stuart spent the remainder of the afternoon discussing where they would go next. Margaret again brought up the impact constant relocating may have on James. Though she realized moving was necessary to ensure James’s safety, she always tried to take into consideration the long-term ramifications of living such a lifestyle. Such is the life of the one who will change the course of history, Akil reminded Margaret during one of their monthly meetings. He had agreed with Margaret that as James grew older, he may begin to resent his parents for never growing roots anywhere. The consistency of living in the same home, being surrounded by the same friends, and going to the same school were all things James had never known.
Stuart enjoyed selecting new destinations. He made an effort to choose places with historical significance. Once they’d decided upon a destination, Stuart would tell James the history as they were packing. Akil had given him the book The History of Sorcery in Eastern Europe not long after they had met for the first time. Stuart was thrilled to learn a new history of the lands he’d thought he knew so well. Many of the magical historical events coincided with the events of contemporary European history that he had studied in school.
Stuart and Margaret were bent over a map in the drawing room of the massive estate house. They were once again startled by a raspy old “Ahem” and Stuart wondered how a man who’d seen so many winters had been able to sneak up on them not once, but twice.
“We have concluded our lesson for today,” Mr. Ammoncourt said, looking up at the pair through his thick glasses. “Same time tomorrow?”
“Please,” Stuart replied.
“Very well,” Mr. Ammoncourt gave them a nod and turned toward the door. He paused for a moment, and Stuart wondered if he was planning on standing there the rest of the afternoon. Slowly, he turned back toward the couple. His face and expression gave him the look of a different man. Even his voice sounded different when he spoke.
“You aught to consider getting married,” he said.
“Sir, we’ve been married for nearly seven years,” Stuart replied.
“What unfaithful consider marriage differs from ours. In a sorcerer’s marriage ceremony, a magical bond is created between the pair. It can only happen between true loves, and you will feel each other here,” he said, his hand over his heart, “forever. Well, that is, until one of you dies. I’m surprised Akil has not mentioned this before.”
“No, he has not,” Margaret said tersely. “Thank you for your suggestion.”
“Very well, I’ll be going now.”
With that, Mr. Ammoncourt removed his hand from his cloak and gently tossed a pinch of purple transporting powder over his head. In a swirl of purple smoke and a flash of white light he was gone. Stuart and Margaret looked at each other, both in a state of panic. Akil had cast a spell (one of his own creation, of which he was very proud) that prevented the transporting powder from working for anyone other than Stuart and Margaret if they were within a quarter mile of James. The spell was meant to ensure that James would avoid being ambushed if their location was discovered. Until that very moment, it had worked flawlessly.
They both ran from the drawing room into the main hall where they saw James seated at the large stone- topped table busily writing. He didn’t look up as his parents hurried to his side. Stuart couldn’t help but imagine Alvaro’s men readying to transport into the house this very moment. His eyes darted from door to window, imagining enemies suddenly appearing and trying to take his son.
Once they had confirmed James was safe, Margaret took a calmer, more rational approach. She could see the panic swelling in her husband. She knew nothing good ever came of reacting from panic. She gently put her hand on his shoulder.
“Let us test before we react,” she said calmly.
Stuart exhaled. Margaret could almost see the panic escaping from his lungs as he did so. He nodded. Reaching into his cloak he pinched a bit of transporting powder from the pouch he always carried, tossed it over his head and said, “ Bidaia egin,” and disappeared in a swirl of purple smoke. Several moments later, he reappeared, immediately looking around the room.
“It still works,” he said with a sigh. “I transported to Tabbi’s, and we both attempted to transport back together.”
Margaret repeated the process. The pair looked at each other and then at James.
“I like this place,” James said. “We should stay here a while.”
“When is our next meeting with Akil?” Stuart asked, looking at Margaret.
“Ten days,” she replied.
“Tomorrow we will question Mr. Ammoncourt. Based on his answer, we may move up our relocation date.”
“I agree,” Margaret replied.
James, meanwhile, turned back to the long sheet of parchment in front of him. He had learned to write when he was four and mastered the skill shortly thereafter. His penmanship was neater than that of his father’s, and his ability to form sentences was far beyond the level of the average five-year-old. “Boy, what are you writing?” Stuart asked.
“Mr. Ammoncourt gave me homework. I want to get it done so I can practice my skills.”
“Homework?” Margaret asked. No other instructors had ever given James homework.
“He’s having me write the three forms of magic, what they mean, and how to perform each of them.”
“Is he?” Stuart said, more to himself. He wasn’t sure he liked Mr. Ammoncourt. His style was drastically different than that of every other instructor they’d used previously.
