The Orphanage of Miracles (The Kingdom Wars Book 1)

by Amy Neftzger

  The

  Orphanage

  of

  Miracles

  by

  Amy Neftzger

  Published by

  Fog Ink

  and imprint of

  Fields of Gold Publishing, Inc.

  Copyright © 2012 by Amy Neftzger

  All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any form or manner whatsoever without the written permission of the publisher. For more information contact:

  Fields of Gold Publishing, Inc.

  PO Box 965

  Brentwood TN, 37027.

  Edited by Ken McManus.

  Cover design & all illustrations by Cory Basil.

  ISBN: 9780984803484

  The book is a work of fiction. Any resemblance to

  individuals, living or dead, is purely coincidental.

  “The most astonishing thing about miracles is that they happen.”

  ~ G. K. Chesterton

  Chapter One

  The Orphanage

  The day Nicholas arrived at the orphanage, the autumn came and never went. He could remember a time when there had been winters, springs and summers, just as he remembered a time when he had parents. But they were all gone now. And Nicholas was here, living in a rather tall stone building that was something of a cross between a cathedral and a small castle. He didn’t know who had built it or why it was now an orphanage. He didn’t even know what month it was, and no one seemed to care that the seasons never changed. Time was measured differently here.

  Nicholas felt the crisp, morning air tingling on his face as he opened the heavy window shutters and filled his lungs. He could see fingers of sunlight reaching through the branches of the trees in the forest. It might have even been the enchanted forest, but one could never be sure. Everyone knew that the orphanage had an enchanted forest on one side, but no one seemed to know exactly on which side it was located. Every time someone identified where it was, it seemed as if that part of the forest moved somewhere else. Because of this, people who left the orphanage grounds usually never found the way back. Return visitors were scarce. Nicholas had never even seen a visitor at all. He saw only new children as they arrived, as if from nowhere. The residents of the orphanage lived almost completely in isolation from the rest of the world. That’s because the orphanage was their whole world.

  As Nicholas stared out the window at the autumn leaves drifting in the gentle wind, he wondered if the enchantments could be seen if you looked at them in exactly the right way. It would be a lovely thing to see magic. He had seen only the effects of it, such as the singing fireflies. A choir of them sang and danced in the forest almost every night. Nicholas knew they were an outcome of the enchantment and not the magic, itself. Seeing magic would be more like personally knowing the artist instead of just looking at the sculpture the artist had made. Or it might be like studying the gears and moving parts inside a clock. Maybe it wouldn’t be that interesting, but there was no way to know unless you could see it for yourself.

  Nicholas took another deep breath of the clean smelling air and then turned from the window. The cool draft and bright morning light stimulated his body into motion, and he began to dress for the day. It didn’t matter what he wore because today was Monday, which meant that it wasn’t a workday. It was a day of relaxation for most people at the orphanage, but for Nicholas, it was a fitting day. He would be seeing the tailor again. He dressed quickly and then sat in the window, studying his plant until it was time to go. He liked looking at the dark green, velvety leaves. They reminded him of a warm wool sweater or a fuzzy kitten. Finally, a gentle knock on the door announced the arrival of his mentor, Taro. Mentors were assigned by the orphanage as kind of a teacher or guidance counselor.

  When Nicholas opened the door, he also saw Maggie and Jovan, two orphans about the same age as Nicholas who had been previously assigned to some of the same jobs together. Nicholas knew them better than anyone else in the place, and he liked working with them. The two children stood behind Taro, looking sleepy.

  “Good morning,” Taro exclaimed with a little too much excitement in his tone for such an early hour. “It’s going to be a lovely day in the place of miracles.” He was dressed in the standard mentor’s uniform of a blue suit, white shirt, maroon vest, and striped tie. His hair was combed perfectly and didn’t move about when he turned his head. He always looked neat, but Nicholas suspected that Taro would throw away the suit and tie if he weren’t required to wear it.

  “Hi, Taro,” Nicholas responded with far less enthusiasm. He timidly waved to the other children.

  “How’s your plant doing this morning?” Taro asked as he pushed his way into the room and strolled over to the window. He always appeared confident.

  “Still growing,” Nicholas responded. He knew it was the right answer, and so he always gave it. Luckily, it was also the truth.

  “Mine nearly died last week,” Maggie admitted as she walked into the room and stood near Taro. Her short, dark brown hair fluttered in the breeze by the window as she examined the little green potted shrub. “I don’t think I’m good with plants.”

  “Or miracles. Or animals. Or anything living,” Jovan added. He smiled widely. “At least not that we’ve found so far.”

  “Neither are you,” Maggie snapped back.

  “But your plant recovered, Maggie, and that’s what is most important,” Taro replied with a scolding look at Jovan. “All of your plants are alive, and you should be proud.”

  The orphanage staff was obsessed with plants. They had a large and elaborate garden right in the middle of the orphanage. A section of the building wrapped around it to make a courtyard that stayed locked at all times. Very few people were allowed inside the courtyard because that was where the miracles were kept. As part of maintaining the garden, each child was given a plant when they entered the orphanage and was expected to care for it until it was large enough to be planted in the garden. If at any time one of the children said his or her plant looked sick, it brought about a lot of unnecessary attention and made everyone uncomfortable. If a plant died, the child assigned to care for it also seemed to immediately disappear, so the best thing you could do to survive in the orphanage was to not kill your plant. Nicholas was careful to keep his properly watered and to give it plenty of light. Other than that, the plant did the rest of the work and continued to grow, although slowly.

  “Sometimes I think it’s a miracle that they’re all still alive,” Taro mentioned absentmindedly.

  “So a plant being alive is a miracle?” Maggie asked innocently. She had never been allowed in the courtyard garden to see a miracle up close and didn’t know what one looked like.

  “No, obviously not. That’s just a figure of speech,” Taro said. “It’s a Monday. We all know that there are no miracles on Mondays.”

  “If our plants die,” Jovan interrupted as if he had not been listening to the last part of the conversation, “will we be asked to leave the orphanage?” He was sharp and always seemed to ask the right question. However, the right questions were often the ones adults never wanted to answer because they made everyone feel uncomfortable. But kids ask the right questions because they’re the ones that need to be answered. Asking them got Jovan into trouble more often than not, but he seemed to know exactly where the lines were, and while he would step up to a line, he never crossed one on purpose.

  “Let’s not worry about that right now since it’s not relevant to any of you,” Taro responded flippantly.

  “Are we ready to go?” Nicholas asked, attempting to divert everyone’s attention before Maggie had a cha
nce to pursue the issue by asking more questions. She didn’t have Jovan’s natural caution and was too curious for her own good. “We have an appointment with the tailor, don’t we? I don’t think we want to be late.”

  “We certainly don’t want to be late,” Taro agreed. “I’m very excited for you three. I’ve secured positions in the laboratory for you, and you’re going to need lab coats. It’s the opportunity of a lifetime.”

  The lab! This assignment could be very interesting. Most children weren’t allowed to work in the lab until they had been in the orphanage for at least three years. Nicholas tried to remember when he had arrived, but that memory was getting further and further away from him like a bottle drifting in a stream. He couldn’t remember when he had arrived or how long he had been there. Maybe he had been there for three years, but it really didn’t matter. He was happy to be assigned to a place as exciting as the laboratory.

  “This is a place of miracles,” Taro exclaimed as he moved back toward the doorway. “Except for today, of course, because it’s Monday. But tomorrow you three will be in the heart of miracles!” Taro strutted out of the room and waited for the others to follow.

  “What kind of miracles?” Nicholas asked as he closed his bedroom door and turned around to face Taro in the hallway. Nicholas didn’t know anything about the lab except that it was considered to be a prestigious assignment.

  “That depends mostly upon you,” Taro answered, “because you’re going to make them.” He stepped in front of the children and led them down the stone hallway towards the tailoring room. He walked quickly and didn’t look behind to see if the others were keeping up with him. There was a specific order to life in the orphanage, and this included certain rituals, such as the manner in which groups walked through the hallways. Straight lines were required at all times, just as walking in step and staring straight ahead were also required. Children always walked behind the leader in pairs. In accordance with these rules, Maggie and Jovan followed behind Taro with Nicholas bringing up the rear. There was no unnecessary talking in the tall corridors of the building, mostly because everything echoed so much. The rules weren’t difficult once you got to know them.

  Nicholas quickly glanced at the rooms and hallways as they marched past. Above many of the doorways were plaques with unfamiliar words inscribed on them. No one knew what they said because there were no classes at all. Mentors didn’t formally teach children the standard school subjects because these were considered a waste of time. Mr. and Mrs. Pontiff, the kind but scarcely seen elderly couple who ran the orphanage, had terminated all educational efforts a very long time ago. The king had requested miracles, and so the Pontiffs had decided that gathering miracles would be the sole focus of the orphanage. As a result, all schooling was canceled so that everyone in the orphanage could work on achieving this objective. The only education that Nicholas received was what he learned from his mentor, and these conversations were mainly focused on providing simple instructions on whatever task Nicholas had been assigned to do. There was no extra time for subjects such as math or grammar.

  Nicholas didn’t know if Taro was a good mentor or not. The orphanage always assigned each new arrival a mentor to help the child adjust, and Taro helped and guided Nicholas in finding his place. Nicholas wasn’t sure how they had picked Taro to be his mentor, and he often suspected that Taro had simply been available. It also seemed that Taro wasn’t helping him very much because Nicholas had tried a number of jobs and failed at each one. At least he wasn’t alone. Taro was also mentoring Maggie and Jovan, and neither of them had found their places yet, either. It was discouraging, but somehow knowing that he wasn’t the only failure made Nicholas feel better. The others were also struggling to fit in.

  The group walked in silence. Only the sounds of their feet stepping in unison could be heard echoing down the long corridors and bouncing off the high ceilings. The clicking noise of their shoes on the stone floor continued to echo until they reached the tailoring department. When they stopped moving, the bouncing noise from their footsteps slowly tapered off like a ping-pong ball losing energy. Nicholas looked up above the heavy wooden door. The sign above the door frame said “Industria.” He wondered if this was the word for tailor or clothing maker in another language.

  Mr. Portnoy, the official tailor in the orphanage, was sitting on a stool and hemming a garment as he waited for them to arrive. He had several child apprentices who had been unable to work with miracles, but since it was Monday, these workers had the day off.

  Upon seeing the group enter the room, Mr. Portnoy immediately dropped the garment onto the table, jumped to his feet, and began winding a loose measuring tape about one of his hands.

  “Hello, children,” he said in a courteous tone. “Nice to see you again.”

  Nicholas saw Taro cringe at this last phrase. This was the fourth fitting for uniforms that they’d experienced because none of the prior jobs had worked out. The children didn’t know how many chances were available to them. Mr. Portnoy must have seen Taro’s reaction. “Not to worry. No problem at all,” he continued. “It’s not uncommon for a child - or several - to go through half a dozen or more jobs before finding the right one. There’s still time. The most important thing is to keep trying and, of course, dress appropriately for the job.” He perked up at the last statement and continued, “The right clothes are extremely important because we all know that clothes make the man.”

  “Or woman,” Maggie added without any hint of apology for her brashness.

  “Yes, well, as I was just about to measure Jovan, tin his case clothes make the man.”

  “Couldn’t you just say that clothes make the person?” Maggie persisted.

  “No, we couldn’t.” His tone, while still friendly, conveyed his conviction. “Each of us is who we are and not simply just another person.”

  Maggie stood there, reflecting upon these words for a moment as if deciding whether to pursue the argument. Mr. Portnoy contorted himself around Jovan, taking measurements from all angles. Jovan suggested that she sit down on a nearby bench with Nicholas, and she did.

  “Do you believe that clothes make the man if that man is a woman?” she whispered to Nicholas.

  “I believe we should be quiet and get our lab coats fitted so that we can start work in the morning,” Nicholas responded, matching her whisper.

  “I’m looking forward to it very much,” she replied. “It has to be far more interesting than standing outside and trying to catch miracles with a net. What were they thinking when they assigned us to do that?”

  “Well, it must work,” Nicholas said. “Look at all the miracles in the garden. There are thousands of them - maybe millions. They must have come from somewhere. Maybe some people have a gift of catching miracles like fireflies.”

  “I wish I could do that,” Maggie said. “It would be really nice to be able to scoop up a miracle whenever you wanted one.”

  “All I know is that we looked very silly dressed like explorers and carrying those nets for no reason,” said Nicholas. They had been told that the outfits attracted stray miracles on the philosophy that clothes make the man. If a man looked as if he was about to catch a miracle, then the miracles couldn't help flying towards him. The children didn’t catch anything that night. Not even a cold.

  “Next,” Mr. Portnoy called out as he buried his face in his notebook and scribbled down Jovan’s measurements. Nicholas jumped up and Maggie listened to Mr. Portnoy again saying that the clothes make the man.

  “Clothes make the person,” Maggie whispered quietly in Mr. Portnoy’s direction.

  “Listen,” Jovan hissed, “I don’t care if clothes make the chicken soup. We have been through three jobs already, and your plant nearly died once. I’ve been thinking about this place, and there are some things that make me nervous. You need to be careful who you challenge.”

  “What do you mean?” she asked.

  “It’s just that I don’t remember much about what was out t
here past the forest,” Jovan said, “but I have a feeling that it’s better in here and I’d like to stay in this orphanage and not be sent away.”

  “Do you believe what they tell us about the war? That people are dying out there somewhere and that we can create the miracles that will save them?”

  “I don’t know,” Jovan replied thoughtfully. “We just don’t know what’s out there. I wish I could remember my past better, but all I remember are my parents’ faces and a few short memories of them. I have a feeling things are different inside here, but I don’t know why. I also feel that we’re safer here. Maybe there are things wrong with this place, but it’s still better than the outside world ... at least for us.”

  “I just want respect,” Maggie stated firmly.

  “And I just want to live. It seems it’ll be a miracle if we all live to be fully grown, either inside or outside of this place,” Jovan insisted.

  “It won’t happen today.”

  “I know. We’ve got several years until we’re old enough to leave. And then who knows what will happen.”

  “No, it won’t happen today because there are no miracles on Monday,” Maggie clarified. “You said it would be a miracle if we live.”

  “What I’m saying is that the three of us surviving may be the only miracle we ever have.” They were quiet for a few moments as they watched Taro sifting through some uniforms on a rack across the room. Every job in the orphanage had a different uniform, and you could always tell where someone was assigned by the way the person was dressed. Jovan took comfort in knowing that he had seen other children wearing different uniforms at different times, so he knew that the three of them weren’t the only ones having trouble fitting into the orphanage. He just didn’t understand how the decisions were made on what job someone was assigned to do and whether someone should stay or leave. For some reason this information seemed very important to him.