by John Hosh
Jono raised his head slowly. “May I go with you and, if I don’t like your school, may I come back?”
“You may leave school whenever you like.”
“I’ll go then.”
“Splendid!”
“May I say goodbye to Lampus?”
“Certainly,” Mentor replied. “Tell him there’s no reason to worry. Tell him you will be safe. Tell him you are going away to learn about magic. Tell him you may be gone for a long time. When you have said goodbye, follow me. Aegis will show you the way.” Mentor pointed to the goat that had knocked down Lampus. “You will not need your bedding,” Mentor said. “Bring your water-skin. Helice, Iphitus, let us go.” Mentor walked westward. Iphitus and Helice ran to catch up to him.
Jono pulled his water-skin out of the branches. He put the water-skin’s strap over his head. He walked quickly toward Lampus. Lampus ran toward Jono. Aegis the goat stayed several strides north of the boys. Lampus put his hands where they blocked the glare from Helios. Squinting, Lampus asked, “Who’s that?”
“His name is Mentor,” Jono replied. “I’m going with him. He’s taking me to a place called a school. He says he will teach me about magic. I may be gone for a long time.”
“Will you be back tomorrow?”
“I think not. I have to learn all kinds of things. I might not be back for days. There’s no reason for anyone to worry about me. He has food and I will be with other kids.”
“I want to go too.”
“Mentor wants me only. Tell everybody I had to go. The bringer of fire wants me. Take my bedding with you.”
“Why may I not go?”
“Mentor said school is just for special people.”
“But I want to go.”
“Lampie, you have to look after the livestock.”
Lampus put his head down. He dug into the ground with his left toe. He pouted, “I don’t see why you always get to go off and learn magic and have fun.” Lampus sniffled. “I don’t see why you get to do whatever you want and I don’t. It’s not fair. I’m just as big as you are.”
Jono turned away from Lampus. Jono took one step. He turned to face Lampus. Jono kept his head down. “Lampie,” Jono said, “I’m sorry I kicked you. I didn’t mean anything by it. I wasn’t trying to hurt you. I . . . I was wrong.”
Lampus did not look up at his brother. Lampus grunted. Jono turned away. He walked west. Aegis the goat was soon at his side. Helios was not far above the west end of Earth.
Chapter 5 : Jono takes off
The pasture sloped gently downward to the west. In the northwest corner of the pasture was a grove of trees and bushes. North of the grove were hills. Out of the grove, Mentor stepped southward. He beckoned. Jono ran toward Mentor.
Mentor retreated into the evening’s shadows. At Jono’s right, Aegis the goat kept pace with Jono. When Jono halted in front of Mentor, the goat halted too. It bleated and snorted. A blue flash came out of the goat’s nose. To the goat’s right, in shadow, a young man appeared. Jono jumped back.
“Jono,” Mentor said, “this is Aegis. He is a senior pupil. Aegis will begin Grade Four in a few days. He will travel with us.”
Three summers older than Jono, Aegis was of medium height. He had long black hair, pale skin and a pleasant face. His garments were like those worn by Iphitus. Aegis said warmly, “Hi, Jono.”
“Hi, Aegis,” Jono responded. Aegis sat beside Iphitus, who was beside Helice. The goat trotted eastward.
“Jono,” said Mentor, “we have time to teach you to fly. To fly, you need a broom.” Mentor took a few steps east. He grabbed the branch of a tree. “This is a cornelian cherry tree. In these parts, our creator has put a flying broom into every cornelian cherry tree. I want you to pull the broom out of this tree. You have to dig under the tree. You should find a thick finger of wood sticking out. That’s the broom’s handle. Pull on it. Go ahead. Let us see if you can find yourself a broom.”
Jono crept under the branches of the cornelian cherry tree. “I wish I could see better,” Jono called. A moment later he announced, “The ground is hard.”
“Aegis, give Jono some light, will you,” Mentor said.
Aegis stood. He put his right hand inside his cloak on his left side. He pulled out a stick that was straight, smooth and about one man’s foot long. Aegis crawled under the branches toward Jono. “Illumine,” Aegis commanded. The stick gave off light.
Jono asked, “What’s that?”
“It’s a wand.”
“How does it work?”
“We’ll show you later.” Aegis held the wand above Jono’s head.
Jono exclaimed, “Here’s a good stone!” He picked up a flat stone that was as big as his hand. He knelt close to the tree. He used the stone to scrape the dirt away from the trunk. While he was scraping, a few of the tree’s red leaves came down around him.
Jono’s left hand felt under the tree. Jono grunted, “There’s something here.” Jono scraped a little more soil away from the tree. He put the stone aside. Using both hands, he reached under the tree. He announced, “I’ve got something.”
Jono fell backwards. In his hands was a sturdy broom. The broom had a polished handle, a brush of fine twigs and a leather strap. Near the handle’s top was a hole. The strap connected the hole to a notch that went round the handle near the brush. Jono picked himself off the ground. Jono exclaimed, “It’s smooth! It smells like flowers.”
“Extinguish,” Aegis ordered. The wand stopped giving light. Aegis made his way out from under the cornelian cherry tree.
Holding the broom across his chest, Jono walked toward Mentor. Mentor exclaimed, “Well done, Jono. Let me have the broom. There’s more to it than meets the eye.” Jono handed the broom to Mentor. Taking the broom by its brush, Mentor let the butt rest on the ground. He parted the brush at its middle. “Look here, Jono.” Mentor looked down into the brush. Jono peered into the brush. “You see that bit of stick in the handle. Pull on that.”
Jono’s left hand steadied the handle. His right hand seized the stick. He pulled. The stick came away from the broom.
“It’s a wand,” Mentor said. “You have much to learn about the wand. For now you should know how to make it give you light. I believe Aegis told you how to use it.”
“No, he . . . wait,” Jono said. “Illumine.” The wand glowed.
“Correct. And to put the light out?”
“Extinguish.” The wand stopped glowing.
“Very good, Jono,” a grinning Mentor said. He gave the broom to Jono. “You have two of a wizard’s accouterments. Next you need a wizard’s outfit. Aegis, do the deed, will you.”
Aegis turned toward Jono. Jono turned toward Aegis. Aegis said, “Stand still. This won’t hurt.” Jono held his broom tightly in his left hand. He held the wand in his right hand. Aegis used his wand to touch Jono’s left arm. “Stolize,” Aegis commanded.
In an instant Jono had new garments. He had a long-sleeved white shirt that did not have any buttons. The shirt was tucked into a black skirt that reached below his knees. Jono had black boots that rose well above the ankle. He had a hooded black cloak that had ties at the neck. The cloak’s hem reached Jono’s ankles.
“Thank you, Aegis,” said Mentor. “That’s perfect.”
Jono stomped on the spot. He rubbed his right hand down his chest and over his left arm. He twisted himself round. Jono asked, “What is this skin?”
“It is not skin,” Mentor replied. “It’s cloth or material or fabric.”
“What is that?”
“You will learn about cloth later. You have pockets inside your cloak. Put your wand into a handy pocket.”
Jono discovered the many pockets inside his cloak. He put the wand into the left side of the cloak.
“Fine,” Mentor said. Mentor turned to the west, where half of Helios was hidden by the edge of Earth. “We should go,” Mentor said. He walked briskly westward. Aegis, Iphitus, Helice and Jono hurried after Mentor.
From inside the right side of their cloaks, Iphitus and Helice each removed a broom that was shorter than a wand. Iphitus ordered, “Macrosize.”
Helice ordered, “Macrosize.”
In an instant Iphitus and Helice had brooms that did not look any different from Jono’s broom. Iphitus and Helice straddled their brooms with the brush behind them. “Anabasticize,” Iphitus commanded.
“Anabasticize,” said Helice.
Iphitus’s broom lifted him off the ground. Helice’s broom lifted her off the ground. The brooms hung there level with the ground until Iphitus and Helice leaned forward and pulled up on the handles. The brooms carried their riders forward and upward. Beyond the precipice, Iphitus and Helice pushed down on the handles. The brooms took their riders down and out of sight of Mentor, Jono and Aegis.
After a few moments Iphitus came out of the west above the precipice. Helice followed him when he arced sharply upward, banked to the north and came round behind Mentor and the others. In the twilight he landed behind them. “Katabasticize,” Iphitus ordered. He pulled the broom from between his legs.
Helice landed beside Iphitus. “Katabasticize,” Helice ordered. The broom’s brush fell to the ground. Helice stood the broom in front of her.
“Very good, Iphitus. Very good, Helice. Thank you,” Mentor said. “You see how easy it is, Jono. There’s nothing to it. Iphitus and Helice have not been in the sky much and yet they fly like birds. Don’t worry; the broom will not let you fall. Usually, when we fly, we make ourselves invisible. Since you don’t know how to become invisible yet, we will use the darkness to hide us. You see, we don’t want the gods and the goddesses to see us. We want to stay out of sight because we don’t want to cause trouble for our creator.”
Jono asked, “Won’t Selenë’s glow give us away?”
“Even if Selenë were at her brightest, we would appear as mere specks against the water. We will be safe. There is one problem. We may lose sight of each other. We may become separated; so everybody listen. We are going almost straight west. We will pass over some small islands and islets. We will come to a big island. It is called Telos. At Telos we turn to the northwest. We will pass over another island about the size of Telos. That island is Stomakhikos. Northwest of Stomakhikos is another big island. That island is Sternon.
“If we become separated, we will meet on Sternon. On Sternon we want to find Chloë. Chloë is the daughter of Marcos, a fisher. Chloë lives in the tiniest hamlet on Sternon.”
Chapter 6 : Chloë makes a wish
Marcos, Chloë’s father, was dressed in leather. He was wearing leather sandals. He stuck his graying, mustached, bearded shaggy head through the doorless doorway into the small bare room where Chloë was. Marcos ordered gruffly, “Get up, Chloë. Didn’t you hear the goats? We need some water.”
Chloë’s room had light because of a foot-high, two-thumbs-wide slit in the north wall. Motes were wafting in the light that was coming through the slit. The light showed that Chloë’s brother Aspidos was between his sheepskins. Three summers younger than Chloë, Aspidos was lying next to the room’s south wall, which was three paces from the north wall. All the walls were of mud and stone.
Chloë was Jono’s age but she was taller than Jono. Chubby, she had long black hair and tanned skin. Chloë had one thick eyebrow over each eye. Apart from her eyebrows, Chloë had an unremarkable face. Her dark eyes were neither big nor small; they were neither close together nor far apart. Her nose was neither big nor small. Her lips were thin. Her mouth was neither big nor small, and her chin was unremarkable. Chloë looked much like all the girls on Sternon Island.
Like Aspidos, Chloë was lying under a sheepskin cover and on top of a layer of sheepskin that covered a thick layer of straw. A thin layer of straw covered the room’s rock floor. Wearing a sleeveless leather tunic that hung to her knees, Chloë rose from her bed. She yawned. She scratched her head.
From a niche in the west wall, Chloë pulled a comb made of wood and of fish-bones. Chloë combed her hair. Chloë demanded, “Aspidos! Aspidos, get up!”
“I am up,” said Aspidos. He kicked his sheepskin cover away. He shoved himself up.
Slim and agile, Aspidos was of average height for a boy of his age on Sternon Island. Tanned, with shaggy black hair, Aspidos looked like his sister. Like Chloë, he had thick eyebrows and thin lips.
Standing, Aspidos adjusted the leather tunic in which he had slept. Leaning forward, he wagged his head. At the same time, he ran his fingers through his hair from the back of his head to the front. After he had combed his hair in this way several times, he lifted his head. Using his fingers, he combed his hair once from front to back. He padded barefoot out of the room.
****
Chloë stepped barefoot out of her house. She stepped through the house’s doorless south-side doorway. She was under a foot-long overhang of thatch that was part of the house’s thatch roof. She was on a patio of flat rock.
The patio was rectangular. From west to east, the patio was as long as the house was wide, which was almost half a score of paces. From north to south, the patio was slightly shorter than it was long.
Marcos and his sons Leonidas, Aristarchus and Aspidos were sitting on the patio with their backs against the house. Leonidas was older than Chloë by three summers. Aristarchus was older than Chloë by two summers. Like Chloë and Aspidos, Leonidas and Aristarchus had black hair and thick eyebrows. Like Aspidos, the older boys were wearing leather tunics. Marcos and his sons were eating from small clay bowls. The morning’s meal was bread and cheese.
Chloë’s right hand stuck a tiny hunk of cheese into her mouth. Chloë stooped to her right over a two-handled, duck-sized water-pot. In one handle was a muff of fleece. Chloë’s left hand lifted the pot by its brim. Chloë asked, “Will you be in at noon?”
“I expect so,” Marcos replied.
Easily carrying the pot, Chloë trailed her shadow across the stone patio. On her left she passed a stone oven that was in the center of the patio.
Marcos shouted at Chloë, “Bake bread today.”
Enclosing Marcos’s house, the patio and the backyard was a white mud-and-stone wall. The wall was higher than a man can reach. It was thicker than a goat is wide. The wall had a west entrance that allowed entry to the patio and a north entrance that allowed entry to the backyard.
The west entrance was as wide as three water-pots. It had a sill that was half as high as a water-pot. From the sill upwards, the entrance was not as tall as Marcos.
Chloë used her right hand to swing over the sill and out the west entrance. She plodded northward on narrow steps that went up between high white walls. The steps, which were chopped into the rocky land, climbed up from the beach. They forked east and west at a well.
The well’s north side was a height of white rock. For its south side the well had a rim that was made of rock and clay. A bit more than a half-circle, the rim was one step high and as wide as a swan’s back.
Between high, white mud-and-stone walls, a narrow alley went westward from the well. Behind the westward alley’s walls were four houses. One house was south of the westward alley; three houses were north of it.
Between high, white mud-and-stone walls, another narrow alley went eastward from the well. The eastward alley went past the entrance to Chloë’s backyard and past two more houses that were north of the alley.
Chloë arrived at the well to be third in line. “Hi, Alicia. Hi, Portia,” Chloë said.
“Hi, Chloë,” Alicia and Portia replied. Alicia was one summer older than Chloë. Portia was one summer younger than Chloë. Both Alicia and Portia were bigger than Chloë. Like Chloë, Alicia and Portia were wearing sleeveless leather tunics.
Out of the well, Alicia pulled a le
ather rope. At the rope’s end was a leather pail. Alicia poured from the pail into two water-pots that were on the well’s rim.
Chloë sat on steps that formed a crescent round the well’s south side. Drumming her fingers on her pot, Chloë gazed skyward. A gull was floating northward above her.
Alicia stopped pouring. She emptied the pail into the well. She put the empty pail on top of a rock that was as high as Chloë’s waist and that was one pace from the well. To this rock, the pail-rope was tied.
Holding her pot in her left hand, Chloë jumped up. Her right hand seized the pail. She waited.
Alicia and Portia took muffs of fleece from the handles of their water-pots. The girls put the muffs on top of their thick black hair. The girls put the pots on the muffs. Bracing the pots with their left hands, Alicia and Portia padded barefoot into the eastern alley.
Chloë set her pot on the well’s rim. She threw the pail into the water. Leaning over the rim, she yanked the pail-rope. She fell headfirst into the well.
Chloë fell a distance that was four times her height. Coughing and gasping, Chloë was flailing and thrashing. Grabbing the pail-rope, she sputtered — not at all loudly, “Help.” She coughed, “Help.”
Creaking and rumbling, a part of the well’s wall pushed toward Chloë. She remained quiet while the well offered her some stairs. Beginning from the well’s west side, the stairs curved upward along the well’s south side. They curved round and reached the well’s rim on its east side.
Chloë let go of the rope. She splashed onto a step that was a little below the water’s surface. She dragged herself up the stairs.
Echoing, a man’s voice sang, “Hello.”
Chloë halted. She looked round. She demanded, “Who’s there? Where are you?”
The voice replied cheerfully, “Under the stairs.”
Chloë peered over the edge of the stairs.
The voice sang, “Up here.”
Chloë looked at the well’s east wall. A long arm-length below where the stairs reached the well’s top was a black hole. The hole was set in the well’s northeast corner — where the well came against bare rock. The hole was a little taller than a big man’s foot.
Standing at the edge of the hole was a man who was almost as tall as the hole. The tiny man was holding a lit oil-lamp. The tiny man called, “Good morning, girl. How are you this fine day?”