by J. R. Wagner
“Kilani has procured everything we need. Now it is simply a matter of testing my theory and setting your ever-cautious mind at ease.
James sat in a small rowboat barely wider than his shoulders. He looked up nervously as Luno descended the ladder. Cautiously, Luno stepped inside the boat as James hugged the closest pylon for stabilization. Luno quickly sat, giving James a “told you so” smile as the tiny boat found its equilibrium. Luno tossed off the mooring line and gave James a nod. Both men were glad they had decided to wait until the crowds had dissipated before setting out.
James pushed off and began to row. With each stroke, he became more and more nervous. Luno sat facing him with a relaxed expression. James thought he could hear him humming a quiet tune.
The boat lurched violently in the water. James quickly lifted the oars and looked behind him to see what they had hit. He saw only a few bubbles just off the bow. He looked back at Luno who nodded at him. Slowly, James dipped the oars into the water and pulled. Less than a minute later the small boat lurched again. This time James saw something breech the water just off the starboard side. Its skin was grey and sparkled in the sun like nothing James had ever seen. He only caught a glimpse before it disappeared beneath the surface.
“Something is beneath us,” James said.
“Continue,” Luno said sternly. “If it hits us again, do not stop rowing.”
“Do you know what it is?” James asked.
“I have my suspicions.”
“Care to share?”
“Be silent, boy, and row the bloody boat! Our destination is not far, and if I am correct, we have nothing to fear.”
James, once again, nervously dipped the oars into the water and began to pull. After a moment, he looked over his shoulder to make sure they were on course. He could see the large boulder Luno had spoken of, which marked the entrance to the cave beneath the cliffs on the western side of the harbor. He increased his pace.
Off the stern of the boat, behind Luno’s left shoulder, James saw a rapidly expanding circle of bubbles on the surface. Luno could tell by the expression on James’s face that something was happening behind. He turned slowly. Instinctively, James raised the oars from the water as the green bubbles off the stern came to a boil. The area covered by this boiling disturbance on the surface rapidly grew until it was three times the size of the small boat.
James started to speak, but Luno quickly raised a silencing hand. Without warning, the bubbles ceased. Luno slowly turned his head and looked at James. Luno’s dumfounded expression concerned James. Both men sat for several moments in silence. Finally, Luno nodded and James dipped the oars into the water and gave them a pull. The boat did not respond. He repeated the motion with the same result.
“Have we run aground?” James asked.
“No,” Luno said, inspecting the water on each side of the boat.
The boat trembled. Something broke the surface of the water on the port side. Initially it appeared to be the tentacle of a giant sea creature, however it slowly began to separate from itself, unwinding like a piece of rope. First there were a dozen small tendrils pulling away from the main body of the tentacle. Then hundreds. Then in seconds the body had been replaced with thousands of grey tendrils. They rose above the boat then arched down above James. He quickly reached for the knife in his belt.
“No,” Luno commanded. “Do nothing.”
James lowered his hands as the tendrils approached. He could feel an energy from them, almost as if they carried an electric current. They stopped just above his head. James looked up and saw that they had begun to swirl around him. They continued to circle his body, a whirlpool of sensory extensions, until James found himself completely encapsulated by them. Not one of the tendrils actually made contact with James. The center mass, just above his head began to glow red. Bolts of what appeared to be lightning reached out from the source of the red glow. James felt no fear. He raised his arms and the tendrils immediately changed their swirling course to avoid contacting him. James then greeted the creature silently. To his surprise, the creature replied, “As it was foretold, so it has come to pass. Thou art granted that which has been denied all others.”
As quickly as they came, the tendrils retracted and disappeared into the water without so much as a splash. Luno stared wide-eyed at James.
“Do you know what that was?” James asked, lowering his arms.
“It is a guardian of The Never,” Luno replied.
“Have you seen one before?”
“No, I have only heard of them. Tell me boy, what happened to you?”
“I’m not sure. I felt energy. Then it began to glow blood red. Then . . . it spoke to me.”
“Spoke? I heard nothing. What did it say?”
“I could hear it inside my head.”
“For the love of Okon, what did it say?”
James told him, and Luno stared off into the distance, deep in thought. A smile crept across his face. “I was right. You are the one who will get us off this rock.”
“I thought you already knew this.”
“I was quite certain, but nothing is ever for sure.”
“Quite certain? You risked my life on a hunch?” James said, indignantly.
“My boy, I am a clever man, far cleverer than most folks you’ll ever meet. My ‘hunch’ as you so aptly put it, is as good as the certainty of a normal man. In the end, I was right and that is all you need dwell upon. Now, let us make our way to the cave without fear.”
Without another word, James once again began rowing the little boat toward the large boulder that marked the entrance to the cave. As they approached, the waves increased in power and ferocity. It took all of James’s strength to make it through the entrance of the cave without being thrust against the rocks.
Once inside, the water immediately calmed. The entrance, which was barely wide enough to fit the small boat, opened into a large cavern. Light spilled in from several holes in the ceiling of the cave. Vines hung from the holes like green curtains. The blue water lapped gently against the sandy shore. The water was so clear that James could see that the large, smooth stones grew smaller as they neared the shore, until they themselves were “nothing but grains of sand.
The boat ran aground in the sand, and Luno quickly hopped out. James was hesitant to follow.
“Rule number one, my boy. No rules, especially the rules that govern this bloody place, are finite. Now get out of the boat and help me drag it ashore.”
Cautiously, James stepped into the water. He and Luno grasped the bowline and pulled the boat onto the sand. Once the boat cleared the water, Luno released the rope and began walking further into the cave.
“Aren’t you worried about the tide?” James asked.
“No tide in here, my boy,” Luno replied without looking back.
James shrugged, released the rope and hurried after Luno. The sandy beach stretched deep into the cave. The walls of the cave were dry and looked to be made of rough granite. The white grains of sand beneath their feet were flawless and uninterrupted by shells or debris. James could not see any tracks other than those Luno left in his wake.
“I suppose you are wondering why I have risked both our lives to bring you here before our journey and why I insisted on not telling you until now,” Luno said, continuing to walk deeper into the cave.
“If you’ve taught me anything, Master, it is that no amount of prying will convince you to share information with me until you are ready. The answer to your question is yes, I have been wondering why we are here, but I am willing to wait until you are ready to tell me. I am confident that you will when the time is right.”
Luno stopped and turned toward James, having reached the back wall of the cave.
“If that guardian knew what we were doing here, it would have killed both of us instantly. Now, step up to the wall.”
James did as he was commanded and remained silent.
“Open your hands,” Luno said.
James tu
rned over his hands and raised them as if accepting a gift. Luno moved his hands over James’s. After a moment, James’s hands began to glow an amber color. James held steadfast despite the rapidly chilling sensation.
Luno fished out a small silver medallion from the pocket of his satchel and placed it in the space between James’s hands. The medallion hovered in the air. As the amber glow slowly turned pink, the chill was replaced with warmth.
“Close your hands around the medallion,” Luno said.
“Master, are you sure—”
“Close your hands around the medallion,” Luno repeated beginning to lose patience.
James turned his palms toward each other and slowly moved them over the medallion. As they drew closer, he could feel an energy radiating from the medallion. He tried to enclose it in his hands, but an invisible barrier blocked him. James ran his hands around this barrier searching for a weakness in the energy field. It appeared to be completely encapsulated.
“Now, cast it at the wall,” Luno said.
James tossed it as he would a ball to a child. The medallion arched upward before contacting the wall. It stuck flat against the wall. Immediately pink veins extended out from the medallion in all directions until they formed what looked like a doorway.
“Only you can open this door, James. Command it to open in native tongue,” Luno said, obviously pleased with how things were going.
“Voriko,” James said. Nothing happened.
“No, you must command it. Not ask it.”
“But you said—”
“Damn it, boy, a command requires no greeting spoken or unspoken. Tell her to open that door,” Luno said impatiently.
“Voriko!” James said more emphatically, certain it would not work. The ground trembled beneath them as he barked the command, and James thought for sure The Never would bury them in this cave for such disrespect. The veins drawing the arched doorway turned a brilliant purple, forcing the pair to shield their eyes. When James dared look back the glowing veins were gone. There was now an opening in what had once been a solid-rock wall. James saw the medallion on the ground at the threshold of the door. He stooped to pick it up.
“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 —
The Memorial
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 slight sway in his shoulders among his statuesque counterparts shifted James’s focus. It was Akil. He was staring at another man on the opposite side of the hall. Initially, James thought it was simply another face in the crowd. Then he remembered that his father had let him view a memory orb of their first meeting not long before he died. The man he was looking at was David Ogilvy, who had been presumed dead many years ago. Ogilvy nodded slightly. James felt his mother’s body go instantly tense, and he knew she must have seen him as well. James looked back to where Akil had stood but he was gone.