Exiled (The Never Chronicles)

by J. R. Wagner

  The following morning while the group was preparing for another day of exploration, William shouted in surprise.

  “Ze dinghy!” he said in a panic, standing in the place where it had been tied to a tree.

  Everyone in the group stopped what they were doing and directed their attention to William and the missing boat.

  William looked out over the water at the Queen Mary, still anchored offshore. He saw no sign of the small boat.

  “Tide come in and pull ‘er out?” Roger asked.

  “She was tied to the bloody tree. Not only that, but the tide line is back here,” Luno said, pointing to a dark brown line in the sand several feet closer to the water from where the boat had sat.

  Kilani bent over tracks in the sand that abruptly ended at the tide line. “The boat was untied and dragged into the water. Whoever did it wasn't alone. There were at least four of them. And …” she looked up at the group, “and the tracks they left were very small.”

  The rest of the group gathered around to inspect the footprints in the sand. Kilani positioned her foot beside one of the prints for scale. Sure enough, the footprint was roughly one third smaller than her foot.

  “Natives?” James asked.

  “Not a chance,” said Roger. “That was European craftsmanship on the top of that hill eff I've ever seen it.”

  “The questions we need to ask are where did they take our boat and how do we intend upon getting back to the Queen Mary once our time here expires,” said Luno.

  “I heard summon in the jungle last night. A screaming o' sorts. T'was like a small animal been eaten by a larger. Didn't sound t'alarm 'cause it lasted seconds,” said Roger.

  “Perhaps that was a means of distraction,” said James.

  “No bloody way summon could pull t'boat into t'water ‘n' row away without me hearin'. Leastways, what of yer protective incantations?” Roger replied.

  James had forgotten about the protective incantations he'd cast the previous night. They would have covered the beach area surrounding the boat for sure. The thought of someone being able to bypass them was disturbing.

  “Regardless of what happened, we need a way to get back to the Queen Mary and quickly. I believe we shouldn't spend any more time here than necessary,” said Luno.

  “I could summon the Queen Mary close to the cliffs, and we could jump aboard.”

  “Too risky. We don't know what lies beneath the surface. It'd be too easy to tear a hole right through her hull,” said Luno. “William, Roger, how long would it take you to make another boat?”

  “Without our tools, it'd take weeks, Cap'n,” replied Roger.

  “With James's powers and your craftsmanship, do you think you could make a two-person boat from a single tree?” Luno asked.

  After pausing to think for a minute, Roger replied, “Aye, I think we could.”

  “Very well. James, Roger, and William will begin working on the new boat immediately. Kilani and I will start to break down camp. I want to be aboard the Queen Mary before nightfall.

  “And what of the plant?” Kilani asked. “We can't just give up the search and move on.”

  “Given the circumstances I think it'd be foolish to stay another night,” Luno replied.

  “Let me search today while they make the boat and you break down camp,” she said resolutely.

  Luno paused for a moment to consider her proposition. “I don't want anyone traveling alone,” he finally said.

  “Then come with me. James and Roger can work on the boat and William can break down camp.”

  It was clear there was no changing her mind. In the end Luno decided to go along. James was more than a bit concerned about Luno and Kilani spending that much time alone. He felt as though he and Luno were vying for the affections of the same woman, and Luno had just been given the opportunity to plant seeds of dissent in her mind. His only consolation was that Kilani was so driven to find this plant that he doubted she would afford Luno the opportunity to have a conversation, especially since they'd planned for an early departure.

  So it was that Kilani and Luno headed off into the jungle as James and Roger studied the task at hand. While James now had a mastery-level understanding of the native language, his practical experience with the incantations limited his effectiveness. Compounding the issue was the absence of some words he would have liked to use from the native vocabulary. Instead of “cut,” which wasn't in the vocabulary, he first tried “disassemble,” lehtinen, splintering a massive tree. His second attempt detached it at the base but didn't allow enough trunk to make a proper boat because it had cracked a large section in the process. In the end, James simply lifted a large tree, roots and all, from the ground and laid it on the beach.

  He was able to break pieces of stone from the boulders lining the beach that were sharp enough to use as carving tools. As Roger trimmed away branches, James practiced a technique that would make quick work of the major carving. He was able to move large quantities of sand through the air at will. Once he got them moving fast enough, he was able to abrade away layers of wood very rapidly. It did, however, take him quite a bit of practice to get the sand to work where he wanted. Several times he left nothing but a pile of dust. Eventually, he managed to fine-tune this skill enough to first cut away the root ball and tree top, which would have taken Roger virtually all day, and hollow out the center. With Roger's guidance they had a rough-looking canoe by midday.

  By then, William had broken down camp and was able to help. Together they shaved away enough of the remaining wood to make the boat seaworthy. James was even able to cut paddles with his sand technique before the boat was finished. James strengthened the boat with incantations to assure it would survive the journey through the water. William and Roger tested the boat, made some modifications with James's help, and then tested it again. It took four runs before they were satisfied enough to consider it seaworthy.

  The three men loaded the boat with supplies, and William and Roger paddled the canoe into the harbor toward the Queen Mary, hoping to limit the need for multiple trips once Kilani and Luno returned.

  The remainder of the afternoon passed slowly for James as he waited for Kilani and Luno. He tried to imagine what Luno had told her and how upset she would be when they got back. James decided to take a walk down the beach toward the easternmost point of the island.

  His head was so full of thoughts that he didn't even notice the small man standing at the tree line watching him. The man simply stared as James passed with the curiosity of a cat watching a mouse. His skin was darker than Kilani's, and he wore no clothes save a thin rope belt from which hung patches of fabric. Over his shoulder was slung a bow and a quiver of arrows. Also tucked into his belt was a short stone dagger on one side and a leather pouch on the other.

  James stopped where the beach ended and looked at the horizon. The sun had all but set behind the infinity of the sea.

  They're late, he thought. He grew increasingly anxious as the sun continued to fall away in the distance. Finally, he decided that if they didn't return by sunset, he would order William and Roger to board the Queen Mary, and he would search for them alone.

  The small man stepped onto the beach just behind James. His bowstring was taut, an arrow resting on his hand that gripped the rise. As he turned, James jumped back in surprise. The man spoke, and James understood. It took him a moment to process what he was hearing because he'd never heard anyone other than himself speak the language of The Never in full sentences before.

  “I will take the man and the woman,” he said. “You must go and never return.”

  “I come in peace,” said James. “My name is James. What is your name and where are you from?”

  The little man was equally surprised to hear James speak the language and immediately lowered his bow.

  “It is true. You are here,” the man said with a sense of wonder.

  “What is your name so I may address you properly,” asked James.

  After a mome
nt, the man appeared to awaken from deep thought and replied, “My name is Peroc.”

  “Peroc, where are you from?”

  “This is my home,” said Peroc. “Where are you from?”

  “Far beyond the sea. I shall tell you my story sometime. Please tell me, where are my friends?” James asked.

  “Friends? The man and the woman?”

  “Yes, my friends.”

  “They are making their way back. They are not far.”

  “Are they safe?” James asked.

  “Not for long. As the sun sets these lands become dangerous.”

  “We would like to meet your tribe. Will you take us?” asked James.

  “I will do as you wish, Chief. I do not suggest we travel at night considering what roams this land after the sun has set. You and your … friends have been careless and somehow lucky not to have run into … trouble.”

  “If we wait until morning, you or your tribe will not hurt my friends, correct?”

  “I will see to it that the Chief's bidding is done. Your friends will be safe. Celebrations are in order. We have awaited your arrival for generations. I must tell our tribe the good news. I shall return here in the morning. I suggest you sleep on your floating tree. With each passing night, it draws nigh.”

  Floating tree? James thought for a moment and realized there was no word in the native vocabulary for “boat.” He couldn't help smiling at the translation.

  “Aren't you worried about this creature you speak of? Darkness falls as we speak,” said James.

  “No,” said Peroc. “You must wait until dawn. Until then.” Peroc gave a respectful bow, reached into his pouch, sprinkled the transporting powder Kilani so desired, and was gone in a flash of orange light and smoke. James ran back to the stream inlet where William and Roger were waiting by the canoe. Luno and Kilani had joined them in his absence as well.

  James urged everyone to make haste in boarding the Queen Mary. Once on board, he recounted running into the strange man and what he had learned. Sleep was hard to come by that evening as the place came alive with movement and sound. The trees and shrubs rustled and screamed. James likened it to the large colonies of walrus he and his father had encountered on one of their trips north.

  The thought of his father brought back all the longing and guilt that had been pushed deep inside. James remembered the cave. It was so real. For a short time he had believed it was his father and the weight, the burden, had lifted and in that moment, he was free. It all came crashing back down when the truth was revealed. His thoughts strayed to the black castle. To Akil. Why had he not said anything about traveling to The Never? As his thumb ran over the cold steel of the key, he knew the answers were there. He would not be distracted from reaching the black castle again—even if it meant going on alone.

  — 27 —

  THE CHOICE

  July 1896, Portugal

  James, age thirteen

  You're correct, Margaret, the boy does have exceptional abilities,” Tabitha Ogilvy said.

  “There is concern in your voice. Speak your mind,” Margaret replied.

  They stood in a multi-windowed kitchen. Morning light filtered through, casting long shadows on the stone floor. A large, black tea kettle hung from the lug pole over the fire. The intoxicating smell of cooking bacon found its way into the nostrils of everyone in the small house.

  “I believe he has put up a wall, so to speak. Any combat-related skills I try to teach him he refuses to learn. Not outwardly, but I can tell he is resisting. I think he still blames himself for his father's death and as a result he thinks more harm will come to others he loves if he lets his powers get out of control again.”

  “You are most perceptive, Tabitha. I will speak with him,” said Margaret.

  “Thank you. I must go into town and pick up some supplies. Is there anything you require?”

  “No, thank you.”

  “Very well, good day.” Tabitha walked through the doorway toward the exit in the back of the house.

  Margaret sat on a small wooden chair beside the fireplace. She allowed a weary expression to take hold of her face. She had known James had internalized his fears and blame for his father's death. She had repeatedly tried to talk with him about it, but to date, he'd been very obtuse about the matter.

  Every time she thought about that day, the day her bond was broken, the day James returned and told her Stuart had died, her heart ached. Not only for her lost husband but for her son as well. He was nearly fourteen, and had made hardly any progress with his studies. The burden of blame is a heavy one, especially for someone who is not yet a man.

  As far as she was concerned, there was only one person who needed to be blamed for her husband's death—Alvaro. He'd continued his rise to power since that day they had met at the temple and was now Master Elder Ameriketako, one step from complete control of the council. He had shown no indication that he had even played a part in her husband's death, but she knew it was him. She knew he had ordered those men to capture James and her husband. Regardless of how he had actually been killed, none of it would have happened if Alvaro hadn't sent the order for their capture. He was the killer, not James, and he would pay for what he'd done to her family. Margaret swore to it. She had sworn to it every night since her husband's death.

  She realized tears were streaming down her cheeks. She sat up from her exhausted slouch and wiped them away.

  “Mother?” James said, standing in the threshold.

  “Good morning,” she said, gazing into the fire in hopes he didn't notice. “Tea?”

  “Are you all right?” he asked.

  “I'm all right, son. Just thinking about your father.” She smiled. His face turned cold immediately, and she could see the guilt in his eyes. Every time she had shown her grief to James, his own guilt appeared to resurge as if his father had died all over again.

  “James, sit down. We need to talk.”

  James could tell by the look on his mother's face what was coming. He'd heard it before and was about to hear it again. He sat and quietly waited for his mother to begin.

  “Mrs. Ogilvy says you aren't progressing like you could be. I see it as well. Why do you think that is?” Margaret asked.

  “I don't know,” James replied, as he had so many times before. The question was different but the underlying meaning was always the same. Even at thirteen he was able to see that.

  “Do you want to know what I think?” she asked, looking deep into his blue, forget-me-not eyes. He didn't respond. “I'm going to tell you whether you want to know or not. I think you're holding on to guilt so tightly that it has become fear. You are afraid you will hurt someone else just like you believe you hurt your father. Is this true?” she asked. Again James didn't respond.

  “This is exactly what Alvaro wants, James, can't you see that? You will never become what he fears more than anything if you continue to hold on to this guilt. Not only that, but whatever power you weren't able to control that night will remain out of your control for the rest of your life. If that happens it is more likely that someone you care about would be hurt again. Do you understand what I'm saying?”

  James nodded.

  “I miss your father. I miss him every day.” Margaret could see James wince when she said it. She could see her words had not gotten through to him. “I do not blame you for your father's death. I never have. There is only one person who bears the guilt of his death. That person is Alvaro. One day you will be strong enough to defeat him. When that day comes, we won't have to live in hiding anymore. James, I'm telling you if you don't let go of your fear and guilt that day will never come. Alvaro will remain in power, you will be just another boy, and your father will have died for nothing.

  “Don't you see, boy, all of us, the people who surround you, who protect you, we all believe that day will come. We are happy to die if need be to ensure that it does. All of those sacrifices will be for nothing if you cannot get past this. It's okay to be afraid. It's okay t
o be angry. What's not okay is to allow those feelings to repress your abilities. Use those emotions to embolden them. It is up to you to decide. If you continue on your current path, you will achieve nothing but more hurt, more pain, and more guilt.”

  James was hearing what his mother was telling him, but he was having a difficult time processing it. He was afraid of hurting someone else … of killing someone else. But how can you just turn that off? That fear of loss resides in the hearts of all children. And then there was Alvaro. His mother made it a point to regularly remind him that he was to blame. James had a difficult time harboring any anger for the man. He had been very kind when they had met at the temple not long ago. Despite that, everyone around him said the opposite. He wanted to make his mother happy and proud. Bearing this burden of overthrowing Alvaro, of making a difference in the world, was a burden he often wished he never had to bear. He longed for a normal life with friends and school and a home. Hearing this from his mother made him wish he could crawl back into bed and sleep everything away.

  “You carry a heavy burden, James. You have almost your entire life. Part of me wishes that could be different for you. Remember, all of us have expectations for our lives. Some are greater than others. We carry these with us until we've seen them through or until the day we die. Don't let yours be a weight. Let them lift you. Believe in yourself. Believe you can accomplish more. Even more than others believe. Go with confidence and strength. If you do this, James, you will become more than you ever could have imagined. You have two choices, son. You can let these feelings—the guilt, the fear, the weight of expectation—drag you down and be nothing, or you can let them lift you up and be more than anyone could possibly fathom. It is up to you, son. I've taught you never to give up. Your father taught you never to give up. The decision is yours.”