“No! Leave it. That cannot come inside,” Luno said, offering no other explanation.
Luno reached into his satchel and removed a thick piece of wood that was wrapped on one end with a cloth. The cloth smelled of petrol. He set the wood on the ground and stooped over it after removing two bright orange leaves, one from his satchel, the other tucked neatly under his belt. He brought the leaves together just over the wood. Immediately the leaves burst into flames, igniting Luno’s torch. He lifted the torch and stood by the entryway giving James a wry smile. Without a word, Luno stepped through the doorway, and James followed.
The corridor they traveled was not the roughly cut rock of a natural cave but smooth, meticulously hewn granite, perfect in every detail. James could see images carved into the walls, but Luno was moving too quickly for him to inspect them. The corridor was wide enough for four men to walk shoulder to shoulder. They did not travel far before Luno stopped and turned to James. “While I have never been inside, I know what awaits us. Clear your mind, James. Look sharp, and prepare yourself.”
“What am I preparing myself for, Master?”
“Prepare for battle.”
— 19 -
October 1895, Ireland
I want to go,” said twelve-year-old James.
Margaret looked at him, shocked.
“I know we shouldn’t. I know it’s dangerous, but I want to go.”
“Son, do you understand the very man who ordered your father’s capture is the officiant? This is a farce and most likely a trap,” Margaret said, immediately regretting her decision to share the reason Alvaro had called their meeting with her son.
“I killed my father, not Alvaro. Me.”
“James, you don’t know that. You mustn’t keep blaming yourself. You didn’t-”
“I want to go,” he interrupted with the same sternness Margaret recalled her husband used all those years ago to bring her to meet Tabitha.
“Very well,” she said, after a moment’s silence. James looked surprised at his mother’s reply not knowing that she secretly hoped the trip might bring the closure James needed to enable him to pick up where he’d left off before the accident. All progress had come to a halt since that night, and with each passing day, Margaret detected anger building inside James. If this was what it took, so be it. He was no use to anyone without his abilities.
The purple haze of the transporting powder cleared, revealing an enormous stone structure. It stood taller than any building James had ever seen. He studied it, his mouth agape. The silver and white flags lining the steps up to the entry blew in the breeze. Guards stood at attention. Two stone walkways extended from the temple into the forest, like arms, embracing a meadow of flowers between them. The grounds were green and lush despite the dry summer. James could see people heading toward the main entrance.
“Stay by my side. Say nothing. Look at no one,” Margaret commanded.
They began walking across the root-choked clearing toward a set of steps that led into the covered walkway. A man wearing deep-purple robes and flanked by half a dozen guards walked briskly toward them. As he drew nearer Margaret recognized him. Alvaro looked flushed, nervous even.
“I must say, I was surprised to hear of your agreement to attend. Surprised and delighted, of course,” Alvaro said, turning to face the boy. “James, finally we meet.” Alvaro extended his hand and smiled at James.
Margaret was certain James would not take Alvaro’s hand, but after a brief pause, he extended his hand and met Alvaro’s gaze.
“Finally,” James said with terseness that was surprising for his age. The look in James’s eyes frightened his mother. Alvaro’s attempted warm smile became an uncomfortable grin that was followed by a noticeable sense of relief when their hands separated.
“Well then. Right this way, please.”
Alvaro ushered the pair along the walkway. The silent guards fell in behind the trio as they made their way toward the temple.
“So, James. This must be your first time visiting the temple.”
“It is,” his mother replied.
“Well, well. Perhaps a tour can be arranged after the ceremony,” Alvaro replied.
“I don’t think-”
“I would like that,” James interrupted.
Margaret looked displeased. Alvaro expressed surprise, but he quickly recovered. “Excellent. I shall send my assistant to fetch you after the ceremony.”
They walked in silence until they reached the spot where the walkway opened onto the lower terrace of the temple. The terrace stretched as far as James could see in either direction, wrapping around the base of the temple itself.
“Here is where I must leave you. My guards will escort you to your seats. Madam Stuart. James.”
Alvaro quickly walked off, looking over his shoulder several times until he stepped through a doorway followed by two of his guards. The remaining four escorted James and his mother up a set of steps and down a wide corridor. Other, formally dressed sorcerers, moved up and down the hallway as well. They passed numerous doorways, each carefully labeled: “ZAHARREN UGAZABE ASMAGINTZA,” “ZAHARREN UGAZABE ASTERKETA,” “ZAHARREN UGAZABE BABESPEN.” People moved hurriedly in and out. At the end of the hall was a large archway. Etched in marble over the arch was the word “OREKA.”
Inside scores of people gathered, talking and milling about. The instant the guards stepped through the arch the room became silent. All eyes turned on James and his mother. Rather than looks of condolence or pity, Margaret thought the crowd looked indignant. The crowd cleared away as she and James were ushered to the center of the room. Chairs arranged in semicircles surrounded a low stage upon which sat what looked like a birdbath.
James looked around in awe. Light shone through the ceiling windows, brightening what would have otherwise been a dark and dreary room. James was certain the windows were enchantments because the temple extended far above ceiling of this room. The guards led them to their seats. Each of the four guards took position at the ends of the semicircles and waited. The room remained silent. The brilliant light that came through the windows dimmed as if the sun fell from high noon to twilight in a matter of seconds. Torches mounted to the walls by cast iron brackets ignited. A stringed instrument began to play a mournful song.
James looked around. The attendees had organized themselves in perfectly formed rows behind the half- moon chair arrangements in the center. They spread out in a fan of people. Their faces were blank as they stared at the center of the stage. A procession filed through doorways opposite where James and Margaret had entered. Each person was dressed in the same dark-purple robes Alvaro wore. Two by two they marched toward the stage. When they reached the chairs, they split, each following the arc around the stage. They moved in perfect time with the music, as if they’d rehearsed. Once everyone was positioned in front of their seats, the music stopped.
One final person walked through the doorway. She was dressed in black and silver robes that shimmered in the firelight. Her hair was dark red, her face lined with age and wisdom. She stepped up onto the stage, stood over the stone bowl, and raised her hands. James felt compelled to stand. His mother followed suit.
The woman spoke. “For the first time in the history of these great halls, we come to honor one not born among us. Many believe we as faithful are entitled to treatment that the unfaithful are not. It is the belief of this council that respect be earned, not given.”
James scanned the crowd noting every incredulous expression.
“The man we honor here today,” the woman continued, “earned our respect. He earned it by his actions. He earned it by his acceptance and he earned it by his faith.”
James finally located Alvaro among the other purple-robed attendees standing on the opposite side of the stage. When their eyes met, Alvaro quickly looked away. Behind him someone moved, drawing James’s attention. A
