“Yeah, I’ve heard other stories ’bout that sorcerer too,” Aubrey said. “He can see the future, for one. I bet it’d be no problem for him to know if there’s treasure to steal somewhere close by.”
Xan shook his head. “C’mon, you don’t really believe that, do you?”
Aubrey suddenly pointed across the meadow. “Well, if you don’t believe me, then why’s Bunny headin’ to that trail right now—the one that leads to that magician’s lair?”
Sure enough, in the distance Brother Bernard was crossing the road in the same spot he’d led them down the bank and onto the westward trail.
“Seems like Giles here isn’t the only one who thinks that magician did it,” Aubrey said.
“But why would Brother go there?” Lucy said. “Do you think he’s going to accuse him?”
“If he is, then Bunny’s gonna get a big fat magic spell in his big fat face,” Aubrey said.
“Oh no!” Giles cried. “Don’t let that magician hurt Bunny. We need to help him!”
“Right you are,” Aubrey said. “But we need to move fast this time, so you and John stay at the dorm here, all right, Odo?”
That wouldn’t do at all. John needed to stay a part of solving this mystery or else he’d fall back into depression. “Wait,” Xan said. “John and Odo can—”
Too late. Aubrey and Giles already had run out into the meadow.
14
The Magician’s Lair
What should we do?” Lucy said. With John and Odo’s walking difficulties, there’d be no way to catch up with the others and follow the monk.
“’Tis all right, Xan,” John said, his face sunk in disappointment. “Just go ahead.”
Lucy shrugged and gave a nod. “All right, John. We’ll fill you two in when we get back.”
“Fine,” Xan said. “But let’s do it right. I don’t know what that Brother Bernard is up to, but something seems odd about his going to the trail. We should follow him in secret for now.”
They helped John and Odo up the stairs of the dorm and then ran side by side as fast as they could across the meadow. They caught Aubrey and Giles as they were scurrying down the bank, avoiding thorns and rocks.
“Wait for us,” Lucy called. Her brother listened for once, and soon they were all jogging beneath the trees. By the time they reached the blackbird statue, Brother Bernard was already far up the thin trail, almost out of sight. They caught their breath for a minute, and then Aubrey trotted off again.
“Shhh,” Xan called out, trying to keep up. “We need to move quietly.”
They followed Brother Bernard deep into the woodland, always at a steady climb. Yet he seemed to get farther from them as they went. Eventually, they reached the top of a clearing, which fell into a steep gully on the other side. They plopped to the dirt to recover their breath.
Lucy inched her way to the edge of the gully and beckoned to Xan. “Come see!” Before them lay a stunning view of woods and clearings, with clouds of swirling orange. The greens of the trees were sliding into autumn yellows and oranges.
“Isn’t this a wonder, Xan? My soul could be at peace forever in a place like this.”
“Aye.” For a moment it seemed it was just the two of them in all of nature’s beauty.
Then Aubrey threw a pebble at Xan’s back. “C’mon. You can gawk at trees another time.” They continued along the trail a bit longer, descending under the trees before climbing out once more. Finally, they came to the last stretch of road, which widened at the crest of a hill.
“This must be it!” Giles said. The sweat was running down the sides of his close-cut hair.
Sure enough, they could see the tip of a wooden cottage rooftop on the other side of the nearest hill, barely poking into view. That very well could be the Magician’s lair.
Brother Bernard was nowhere in sight.
Aubrey ordered them off the trail, and they crept around the hill to the side of the cottage that had a small window. Charred black grass stained the earth outside the little stone house, as though lightning had struck it. Iron kettles and metal tools dotted the entire area of burnt grass.
“What’s all that?” Giles whispered.
“Probably spells an’ potions,” Aubrey said. “The sorcerer must do all that out here.”
“But where’s Brother Bernard?” Xan said.
“They must be inside.” Lucy pointed to the low window in the back of the cottage.
If Brother Bernard had come to accuse that magician of stealing Eden’s Fire, they should be arguing at the front door. Yet all was silent. Did the monk know this magician? Had he been here before? Odo had asked that question yesterday, but Brother Bernard hadn’t answered.
“All right, follow me.” Aubrey motioned to them, his stringy hair wet upon his shoulder. He seemed to think he was their leader, but he was impulsive and rude and lacking judgment. Unfortunately, Lucy and the others already had followed Aubrey, so Xan had no choice for now but to go along with it.
When they reached the edge of the woods, Aubrey raised a hand high. “You all stop here.”
“But we can’t hear anything,” said Lucy. “How will we know if Brother’s in danger?”
“Just do what you’re told,” Aubrey said. “If anyone’s gonna do anything, it’ll be me.”
This was too much now. Aubrey might think he had the right to boss Lucy around, and he might think he was the best, but he didn’t know Xan, did he? “Actually, I’m the one who can do it best,” Xan said. “You stay here, Aubrey.”
Lucy’s brother opened his mouth to forbid it, but Xan was already creeping away. He sneaked across a patch of grass on his hands and knees until the faint words from the window grew clearer. Then he crept even closer to the cottage and peeked above the sill.
The cluttered cottage was dim, except for the red glow of a hearth. Clothing and scraps of junk lay strewn about the floor. In the center of the room, a large table held a thick book with strange markings on its binding. Beside the book lay a moldy loaf of bread.
Perhaps that was the book Brother Bernard had told them about—Secrets of the Sultans.
There in a corner of the room, Brother Bernard sat with an old man in a white robe—not like a monk’s robe, but made of material that sparkled in the hearth-light. That must be the Magician! He was tall, with a long, silver beard that reached to his waist and was tied with a string at its end. His silver eyebrows were twice as hairy and wild as Brother Leo’s.
The two looked as though they’d been talking for a while, but the Magician didn’t seem at all intimidated or offended by the monk. Surely there hadn’t been any accusations against him.
“Very well, then,” the Magician said. The sound of his voice was calm and compelling—urging its listener to obey its reason and sensibility. “Our arrangement will continue as planned. Now, you mustn’t stay any longer. Your prior will wonder where you’ve gone.”
“Of course, but,” Brother Bernard reached into his lap and pulled out a silver bracelet, “first I would like you to tell me something about my future. Something new.”
Odo had mentioned thieves stealing a bracelet last week. Could the monk be the thief?
The Magician took the bracelet and examined it, frowning. “This is all you have brought?”
“’Tis a fine piece of jewelry,” the monk said. “It has some value, I am certain.”
The Magician shrugged and dropped it into his lap. “It will suffice, I suppose, though I do not wish to know where a monk finds such items. Place your hand upon my knee.”
Brother Bernard stuck out his chunky right hand, palm up, and put it on the man’s knee. The Magician spit into the monk’s palm and wiped it with a coarse cloth. Then he stared closely into it and ran his nail up its center. “Hmm, interesting. I see great wealth in your future.”
“I told you so,” Brother Bernard said. “Now you can see it for yourself.”
“Very good.” The Magician grinned. “Depart in peace. You will know when to r
eturn.”
The monk nodded and stood.
Xan ducked his head beneath the sill as the door swung open and slammed shut. Heavy feet shuffled on the path on the opposite side of the cottage: Brother Bernard leaving.
What had the monk been talking about, and where had he got that bracelet? If he was a thief, perhaps he had stolen Eden’s Fire. But how? Maybe he was seeking the Magician’s help to dispose of the jewel. They had formed some kind of plan together, that much was certain.
Xan peeked again over the windowsill. The Magician—his back tall and hunched—was reaching into the hearth fire with a pair of metal tongs. Suddenly, the old man swung around and cocked one of his bushy eyebrows to the side, as though he could sense Xan’s presence.
Xan shot back to the trees, rustling branches in his wake.
Framed in the window, the Magician froze and scanned the area. Moments passed in silence. Finally, he pulled his head back into the cottage, as he mumbled something about a deer.
“Too close!” Aubrey said. “You coulda got us caught. Next time you listen when I talk.” Not likely. Xan hadn’t fought John’s bullying just so he could become Aubrey’s lackey.
“Who do you think put you in charge?” Xan said. “You’re not my big brother.” Aubrey just glared. Then he raised his hand and motioned for everyone to follow him back around the hillside to the trail. When they got to a safe distance, Xan told them what he’d seen.
Aubrey shook his head. “There’s no way Bunny outwitted them guards. Not possible.” He was probably right. It didn’t seem like the monk could have got past those guards without being noticed. To steal Eden’s Fire, there had to be more to the plan.
“So what do we do, Xan?” Lucy said. “Tell Alford?”
Aubrey put his hands on his waist. “What are you asking him for?” Lucy didn’t answer.
“Definitely not, Lucy,” Xan said. “If Alford wants to solve this himself, let him do it. I’m not going to get another monk thrown in jail ’til we’re absolutely certain he’s guilty.”
“But how can we ever be certain?” Aubrey said. “We already know he’s a thief.”
Did they? They knew that he had got that bracelet somehow. They knew he was in league with the Magician. But that didn’t mean he’d stolen Eden’s Fire.
“Right now, we’re just guessing,” Xan said. “We need to keep a closer eye on Brother Bernard, that’s for sure. He may be the one who stole the ruby, but we don’t know how.”
“Bunny’s too nice to do that,” Giles said, and then yawned. “Can we go back home now?” They all agreed that would be best. Brother Bernard was well on his way back to the priory.
Slower than before, they retraced their steps along the trail through the forest. “Brother Bernard is a monk,” Lucy said as they walked. “Could he truly be a thief?”
“Maybe,” Xan said. “Possibly.” He made the Sign of the Cross. “Probably.” Brother Andrew sometimes talked about monks being corrupted by the world, but the idea of Brother Bernard stealing from innocent people—and even another monk—was distressing.
The bandit Carlo had spoken about starting on the path to sin when he’d made his first kill in the Crusades. That had led to more killing and then to a life of banditry. But Carlo was no monk. Taking religious vows should somehow protect a person from the world’s temptations.
They walked until Giles could walk no longer. Then Aubrey carried him. Eventually they made it to the embankment by the priory road. Near the top was a thin row of bushes. Xan pulled ahead—no need to give Aubrey the impression he was the leader.
“Wait!” Aubrey ordered, pushing Xan’s shoulder down. “Look!” Visible between the branches, a bent, ragged figure trudged along the trail.
“That filthy beggar again,” Aubrey whispered. “Why’s he always creeping about?”
“Brother Andrew told us to show him respect,” Xan said. “He’s done nothing to us.”
Monks and clergy were known for their hospitality to strangers. Indeed, he’d learned that lesson back in Lincoln. Christina—beautiful but brusque—had first treated him like one of those wild Northman boys, rudely slamming the door in his face. Yet Father Philip had welcomed Xan into his home, extending kindness and warmth to a stranger.
Aubrey pinched his nose. “Sure he’s done something: he’s ugly and smells like a wet dog.” Giles snickered, and the beggar—who had almost passed by—halted. A long moment passed in silence.
“Come out of there.” The beggar’s wobbly voice was barely heard above the breeze.
They all looked at each other, but nobody moved.
Finally, Xan rose and nodded as politely as he could. “Good day.”
The beggar eyed the others, who popped up one by one. “Snooping around, are we?”
“Uh—just coming back from a walk,” Xan said.
The beggar held Xan’s gaze for a moment. Then he raised his misty eyes and peered toward the trail that led to the Magician’s lair. “Beware, child. You shall not find light in that darkness.”
What did that mean? “I don’t understand. What do you—”
But the beggar was already continuing down the trail.
“Told you he was dotie,” Aubrey said.
Perhaps. Yet the beggar had seemed to know exactly from where they’d come, and his comments had echoed Isaiah’s words: “I will turn darkness into light before them.”
Was the beggar trying to tell them the Magician was so evil that he couldn’t be saved?
15
The Investigation Continues
Back at the dormitory, Xan and Lucy recounted the details of their journey to John and Odo.
Halfway through, John hobbled away and leaned against the wall near the window. The gentle breeze ruffled his hair. Soon Odo was by his side. Neither one of them looked happy.
“And what’s the matter with the two of you sour faces?” Aubrey said.
Odo spoke in a hurt voice. “You left so fast—like we didn’t even matter at all.” Xan traded glances with Lucy, who stood by herself on the stairs. Earlier, John had told them to go and had seemed like he meant it, but their leaving must have upset him.
“You’re right, Odo,” Xan said. “John, we’re sorry. One of us should have stayed with you.”
John slapped the wall. “I don’t need your pity, Xan. I know the truth: I’m just a burden.” They all looked to each other helplessly. What could any of them say? As much as Xan wanted John to help solve the mystery, the truth was that he didn’t need John at all, actually.
Odo tapped his crutch against the wall in front of John. “Am I a burden, too?” John’s face immediately turned red, but he didn’t answer. “Am I?” Odo asked again, softer this time.
“Uh—well,” John said. “Don’t you see, Odo, people like us . . . we’re not . . . we just . . .”
Odo put the end of his crutch into John’s palm, and he held it like a little round hand.
“People used to listen when I said something—like they do to Aubrey,” John said. “Now all they say is ‘Poor John!’ ‘How sad!’ Then they go off and do what they want.”
Silence crept upon them all.
“I know what you mean,” Odo said, drooping down onto his cot. “Brother Charles has to carry me sometimes, but Giles runs around us in circles. And in the kitchen, Brother Don has to bring food to me at the table, but everyone else can get their own meal.”
All eyes turned with pity toward the poor child—even John’s blind gaze. “And when we’re out on the grass,” Odo continued, “Giles runs after the dogs, but I just sit and watch. I can’t even help him.” He took a deep breath, as if to keep himself from crying.
“That must be hard for you,” Lucy said. “But—”
Odo interrupted her, his voice stronger now.
“But when Brother Charles carries me, that’s the only time I ever see him smile. And when Brother Don gets my food, I give him a hug, and he always laughs. And when Giles gets tired of the dogs, he loves to sit
next to me and listen to stories I make up about kings and dragons.”
With great effort, Odo pulled himself to a standing position, leaning entirely on his crutch to support his weight. Pain showed on his little face. “John, I may be a cripple, but I’m not a burden. And you don’t need to be, either.”
The September breeze rolled in, rustling a hanging blanket. Xan looked to Lucy again; she had a tear in her eye. Even Aubrey seemed reflective.
At that moment, the bells rang for dinner.
“Time to eat!” Giles cried. “Aubrey, grab Odo and let’s go.”
Aubrey smiled and lifted Odo off his mattress. “C’mon, you.” Lucy let John take her arm. They all walked together to the refectory, arriving before the meal was served this time.
The head table was nearly full, as before, but it had two empty seats—one for Brother Andrew and the other for the captain. Still, neither of the two priors invited the children to sit. Poor Lady Beaumont looked exhausted and sorrow-worn, while Alford eyed everyone in the room with suspicion, as though he could identify thieves by the guilt on their faces.
The children sat at the same table as yesterday, except Brother Bernard had not shown up for the meal yet—a very unusual occurrence, no doubt. He might be up to some wicked task.
“Who’s in the room with us?” John asked, as they took their seats. “Is that couple here?”
“Aye.” Lucy was looking over to where Gilbert and Adela sat together, their heads down and voices quiet. Perhaps they were listening too, like John. “There in the corner,” Lucy said.
After prayers over the food were pronounced, they all began to eat.
“Any a’ these people could’ve stole it,” Aubrey said, munching a carrot. “Not just Bunny.”
“True,” admitted Xan. “Everyone heard Brother and the lady arguing about Eden’s Fire.” But not everyone had gone to the Magician with a bracelet obtained by suspicious means.
John’s fingers crawled like a spider in search of the bread on his tray. He stuffed a piece in his mouth. When he stopped chewing, he put his hand up. “Did you hear that?”
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