“It’s Will!” Will screamed. “Who are you?! Why are you doing this?!”
“I’ll ask the questions! Why are you here?!” the man demanded. His eyes we’re still hidden in shadow.
“This is my home! I live here!”
The middle finger and thumb met again. SNAP! This time the fiery serpent spread its dragon wings until the entire wall was hidden. In its core, beneath the dragon’s mouth, the flame swirled like smoke in a propeller.
“Do not lie to me!” the man roared.
“I’m telling you the truth!” Will yelled back. At this the man lifted his chin for the first time. Will saw his eyes. They were green. Angry green.
“If you insist on holding to that story we shall have to try a different way,” the man said calmly. He turned and started to walk away, but as he did he held out his hand once again.
SNAP!
Stringy flames, like angry fairies, whipped out from the fiery dragon onto everything. The couch ignited, the plant lit, and the chest of drawers burst into flame. Instantly Will’s home was an inferno, the flame still swirling about like he was on the inside of a tornado. Will shielded his eyes. Through the flame he could see the tall man walk through the wall as if it wasn’t even there.
“What the—” Will said as he watched the walls burn, the floor burn, and the ceiling burn. Any second Will knew he would burn too. Hot beyond hot licked at his face, missing him barely.
SNAP!
Instantly, the fire sucked out of the charred walls like a vacuum had been put to them. They stood for a second, then, as a light breeze began to blow, all four of the walls crumbled like ash and blew away.
At that moment three different waves of emotion crashed over Will. First relief, as he realized he was no longer in his burning house, but underneath trees in a forest. Next heartbreak fell, as he realized the forest he was now in was the one he had fallen into from Tobby’s flying boat. Everything that had led him here had really happened. His parents were still dead. Last, terror splashed into him like arctic ocean water. Fear streamed from the back of his neck to the tips of his fingers. His blood went cold.
He was sitting inside a circle of smoldering logs, surrounded by a bunch of short dirty men. They were muttering to one another and kept glancing from Will to a tall man kneeling just inside the circle of logs.
He wore a black wide-brimmed bowler hat and a red ring.
Nine
The Man With the Bowler Hat
Will could feel the tall man’s glare beaming from beneath the brim of his hat. He had one hand outstretched towards Will, like he was trying to throw a spell, but Will didn’t feel a thing so he started to stand.
“Do not move!”
Will paused in mid-stance.
“I want to know who you are. What is your name?” the man asked.
“I’m—” At Will’s voice the group of dirty men outside of the logs started back. Some hugged each other, others screamed, and one ran away crying.
“Come on guys, calm down,” the tall man said to his brave comrades. As he spoke his voice changed from the low rattling sound to the pitch of a boy trying to make friends play fair. Once the crowd quieted the man turned back to Will.
“What is your name?” he asked again in the low rattling voice.
“I’m Will, who are you?” Will replied, and again when Will spoke the entire group flinched, jumped, and screamed.
Will chuckled. “What are ya’ll scared of?” he asked.
“Silence!” screamed the tall man. “Do not misinterpret the silliness of my recruits as weakness. Where are you from, and who sent you here?”
Will crossed his arms and didn’t say a thing. Now that he looked closer he could see that the dirty old men were not men at all, but rather a bunch of filthy children, most younger than himself. The man in front looked younger too, but still older than Will or any of the other kids around him. He was so tall and skinny, and with the hair and hat, he sort of reminded Will of the dancing mop from the Sword and the Stone movie.
Will took a step back, away from his captor. He would run as soon as he got the chance.
“Fire, be!” the man in the bowler hat screamed. As he spoke he shot both hands up into the air, then brought them down, waving them in and out like he was tracing the outline of a giant coke bottle. When his hands were at his chest he turned both palms up like he was holding the words he had just spoken, then, with only one brief spark preceding, a fireball the size of a basketball appeared in his palms.
“Whoa,” said Will. Did the dancing mop just make fire?
The man threw both arms wide to the left and right, splitting the fireball in two, and tossing one to the left and the other to the right. The logs burst into flame, and as if following a trail of gas, the flame ran around the circle until the fires met right where Will had planned to escape.
“Let me ask you again,” the man said slowly. “Where are you from?”
“I’m from America,” Will said. He felt the heat from the fire on his face.
“Where is this, America? I know all the maps of Baru, and I’ve never heard of it.”
“America’s not in Baru; it’s on Earth.”
“Earth? What is Earth?” the man asked. He lowered his chin, hiding his eyes in the shadow of his hat again. “You are lying to me, aren’t you!” The young man already towered above everyone around him, but as he spoke he seemed to grow with the tone of his voice (like an old wizard Will had once read about). “Tell me the truth! Do you work for the King?!”
“No! I’ve never met him. I’ve never been here before! I don’t even know where here is!”
The man jumped in Will’s direction and bent down until he could stare straight into Will’s eyes. He lifted his right hand to Will’s cheek and pressed his middle finger and thumb together, as if snuffing out a candle.
“Light, leave,” he whispered. Instantly, the fire hissed like it had been doused with freezing water, and every torch and candle extinguished. Darkness rushed in and plopped down on top of everything.
“Secret Symbols be Seen,” whispered the man, so close that Will felt it on his cheek. A red light appeared a few inches from Will’s face. Slowly the light moved up and down, left and right, almost touching Will’s forehead first, then over both of his hands, then back within an inch of his eyes. The light was coming from the man’s ring.
Will squinted.
“How did you get here?” the man asked again. He was extremely close, watching which way Will’s eyes moved. Will winced and coughed. He suddenly couldn’t breathe.
“Answer me!” screamed the man.
Will opened his mouth to speak, but again he choked on his words. He wrinkled his nose and gagged.
“I asked you a question,” said the man.
Will grimaced as each sound puffed into his face.
“Is something wrong?!”
“No sir,” Will coughed, “nothing.”
“Are you lying to me again?” The seriousness of the young man’s tone grew as the words fell into a sentence.
Will wanted to say no, but more than that he wanted the torture to stop. He wanted this guy to stop breathing in his face. He had never smelt breath so bad. Without warning, honesty tunneled up and out of Will’s lips.
“Your breath sir, could you back up. It’s horrible.”
There was a instant shush over the crowd. You could have heard a pin drop, but no one had any pens, so instead other things dropped, like torches, and slingshots, and one boy dropped another smaller boy who was standing on his shoulders so he could see.
“What did you say?” the man asked sharply.
“Your breath, it smells.” Will held his breath and tried to think of roses and potpourri.
Without breaking his stare the man took his right hand, lifted it dramatically, and cupped it over his own nose and mouth. A second later his eyes snapped shut, and he began shaking his head to the left and right while fanning the air in front of his nose. Once recovered, he
turned back at Will.
“Your right,” he said.
With that the tall man began to chuckle, then, as if waiting on cue, the entire party exploded in laughter. Some laughed while rolling around on the ground and some laughed so hard they made no noise at all. They just held open their mouths and hunched over while their faces turned purple.
Standing, the tall man lowered his hand, offering to help Will stand. His smile was now exposed above his square chin and his green eyes didn’t look so angry.
Will hesitated.
“It’s okay; I believe you. The truth is in your eyes.” the man said. “Not to mention no one from the kingdom would have spoken in such a way to an enemy. I’m sorry for the theatrics, but we had to find out if you were a spy. You understand I hope?”
Will didn’t understand, but said he did. He took the man’s had.
“My name is Gatnom,” he said. “Sorry about the dream; it got a bit out of hand. It was a spell to try and find out the truth. It didn’t quite work the way I planned.” Gatnom spit something he was chewing out and made a sour face. “Magical herbs are so unpredictable. And they taste terrible.”
Will had no idea what Gatnom was talking about.
“Don’t worry, Will,” said Gatnom with a smile. “I believe you, but I do have a few more questions though. Come with me.” Will was led to a small triangular tube tent. Gatnom got down on all fours and crawled through the tent door. Will followed, but as he pushed back the flap and leaned in, his hand slipped. The next thing he knew he was tumbling over and over himself. When he stopped he was laying at the bottom of a staircase staring up a flight of stairs that led to the tent’s entrance.
“Are you alright?” Gatnom asked, running over. “I’m sorry, I should have told you. That first step can be tricky.”
“You’re telling me,” said Will, rubbing the back of his head. He sat up and looked around. He was in a large room with high ceilings. A wood table sat beneath a chandelier, which was hung by what looked like a single thread. The ceiling looked like the inside of a pup-tent, except twenty feet taller.
To say the least, the tent was much larger from the inside.
Gatnom helped Will to a seat at the table, then he walked to the far opposite end and sat down. The table was long enough for fifteen people at least. Will figured this was some sort of Baruvian custom, but then Gatnom, with an embarrassed look, muttered some quiet words and pushed both hands together like he was crushing a cardboard box. Right in front of Will’s eyes the table shrunk to a square, and Gatnom slid forward in his chair, holding on to the edge of the table as it shrank. As he passed a bookshelf he reached over with his free hand and grabbed two wooden cups and a small bottle of orange liquid. When all was done Gatnom and Will sat within arm’s reach of each other.
Gatnom pulled the cork from the tiny bottle holding the liquid and filled both cups to the brim. The sizzling liquid fizzed up and turned red, blue, green, and brown before settling back into orange and starting the cycle over.
“Are you thirsty?” Gatnom asked.
Will shook his head. He figured it best not to even touch the cup.
Gatnom laughed. “Go ahead. Try it,” he said as he took a drink. Will glanced at the label on the bottle.
Minum-Manis
Will took a small sip. It tasted like strawberries, then blueberries, green apple, cola, orange soda, then strawberries again, and it burned ever so slightly as it went down. “Dude, that’s good!”
“Dude? My friend, my name is Gatnom,” said Gatnom. “By the way, we found this where you fell.” He reached behind his chair and set Will’s father’s travel bag on the table. Will snatched the bag and checked its contents: letter, journal, clothes; everything was there. “We also found these.” Gatnom set a pair of goggles on the table, the ones Tobby had let him use. They must have tumbled out of the boat when he fell.
“Are those magic goggles?” asked Gatnom.
“Umm, I don’t know, but they are pretty cool. Let’s you see real far.”
“Ah yes. Those can come in handy. Are they from Baru?”
Will nodded. For the first time he could see Gatnom’s eyes clearly. He looked nineteen or twenty physically, but his eyes seemed aged.
“How old are you?” Will asked.
“I am seventeen.”
“Seventeen? But, you’re so tall.”
“Yes, it must have been from my grandfather. How old are you, Will?”
Will’s whole demeanor changed. He would hate birthdays from now on. “I’m thirteen,” he replied quietly.
“And where was it you said you were from?”
“Earth, from America.”
Gatnom cocked his head slightly to the side. His eyes seemed to leave the room for a moment. “Earth?” he asked again, more to himself than to Will. He looked like he was trying to remember something. “I think Master Jared might have mentioned—” He stopped in mid sentence and walked to a bookshelf. After scanning the titles he grabbed a book, taking a few loose pages from inside. He ran his finger down the page, his lips moving as he read, and every once in a while he glanced from Will to the loose papers and back again. After a few awkward minutes he returned the book to the shelf and sat back down.
“How did you get here? Where are your parents?” Gatnom asked, suddenly more seriously.
“It’s a long story.”
“What happened?”
Will lifted his eyes, then dropped them, then lifted them again, then dropped them again, like an injured bird trying to fly. In the end his chin fell back towards the table. His wings were broken.
“My mom and dad are dead,” he said. The words hurt coming out of his mouth. “They died in an accident.”
“I’m sorry,” Gatnom said, looking down as well. “When did this happen?”
“Yesterday.”
Gatnom’s eyes shot back up. “Just yesterday? How did you get here?”
“This is going to sound crazy, but I got a letter before it all happened that told me about everything. It told me what had happened and what to do and where to go. So I did, and now I’m here. There was a train, a crazy lady with a cane, a well, a tree, and a mole, and now...” Will stopped. “I know it’s crazy. ”
“It’s destiny.”
Will looked up from the table. Gatnom had his hat off and was looking him directly in the eyes. Will looked away. He felt like Gatnom could see everything inside of him. “What are you talking about?”
“Do you remember all the children outside?”
“Yeah.”
“They are all orphans from the villages east of the Sudden Peaks. I take care of them. I’m the eldest.”
The word orphan burned. Will realized that he was now named orphan.
“Are you an..” Will swallowed. “Are you an orphan too?”
“Yes, my parents were murdered years ago.”
”They were murdered?“ Will asked.
”Yes. Ever since I’ve been here, perfecting my magic and taking care of my brothers and sister.”
“What happened?”
Gatnom sighed before he began.
“Fourteen years ago I remember being asleep in my home, on an island not too far from here. I have no idea how I remember, but I see it as clear as I see the now. In the middle of the night a hot bright light woke me. When I looked out of the window my entire village was on fire. At that moment my mother burst into the room and took me in her arms. She ran, as fast as she could, into the woods towards the river. From over my mother’s shoulder I could see my village. All the houses, including ours, were burning as if fire had rained down from the sky. When we reached the river there was this loud noise back in the village, like metal scratching together, then an explosion shook the ground.
“At that moment my mother stopped, dropped to her knees, and put me in a hiding place she had already prepared. She told me not to move. She had to go help my father. I begged her not to leave, but she told me she must. ‘I love you,’ she said, then she disap
peared back into the trees toward the village.
“It seemed like I waited forever, and that horrible noise continued to get louder. Being so young, all I wanted was my mother, so I crawled out of the hole and walked back towards my house. I hid in some bushes just outside the village and watched for my mother. There were men everywhere, carrying axes, swords, and torches, and they were murdering everyone they saw.
Gatnom stopped for a moment and looked through the walls. After a few heavy swallows he continued.
“I can still see it clearly,” he said. “Near where I was hiding, one of the bandits was stabbed. He fell only feet from where I was. His eyes watched me as they closed, and even in death he reached out his hand to grab me, like he was possessed. That’s when from behind a hand pulled me out by the neck. I fought, but then I saw it was a traveling Magi named Jared. He had visited our village many times over the last few months and was always kind to the children. He brought me here.
“After that, week after week, he would leave and return with more children from the raids. He has been our guardian ever since. A few years ago he began teaching me the Magi Arts so I could become a Magi like himself. Now I am the protector of the rest of the children, as he was for me.”
“What happened with your parents?” Will asked.
Gatnom seemed reluctant to continue, but he did. “Later, Master Jared returned to the village. He told me most of the villagers burned in their houses.”
There was silence for a few more minutes.
“Will, I must ask you an important question.”
“Okay.”
“Who sent you this letter?”
Will pulled the letter out of his bag and set it in front of Gatnom. “It was signed by a King Mel Masih,” he said.
Gatnom’s eyes grew narrow as he looked at the watermarked paper. He stood quickly and grabbed the same book he had read just moments before. “Remember I told you a bandit was killed and fell dead in front of me?”
“Yeah.”
“I knew he was a bandit from the cloak he wore. They all wore the same colors, an earthy yellow, with the same symbol on each. After we came here I listened to the screams of these children night after night until I fell asleep and dreamed my own nightmares. For years I dreamt, over and over and over, time and again I saw that man fall dead at my feet. The symbol he wore haunted every second of my sleep until I drew it out on a piece of paper. After that the dreams stopped.”
The Winter Letter Page 5