by John Hosh
Anaxagoras told Jono, “Follow Euphrasia.” When Jono stepped southward, Anaxagoras barked at Chloë, “You, girl, walk beside him.”
Chloë mewed, “And what if I don’t want to?”
“Then I’ll drag you up there.”
Chloë sniffed. She hurried into step alongside Jono. Anaxagoras limped close behind Chloë and Jono.
Euphrasia came to a standstill two paces from the pile of offal. Xanthippe ran to Euphrasia’s right side. Jono and Chloë halted one stride behind Euphrasia. Anaxagoras halted one pace behind Jono and Chloë. The people on the beach were moving into the corridor between the two lines of rocks.
Euphrasia turned toward Jono and Chloë. “You two, go stand on the other side of the offal. Stand facing me. Xanthippe, play the instrument. Go just inside the cave. Stay alert! You don’t want to end up screaming like poor Clytemnestra.”
Xanthippe whined, “I don’t want to.”
“Never mind that,” Euphrasia snapped. “You’ll do what you’re told if you know what’s good for you.”
“But what if it eats me?”
“It won’t eat you if you don’t linger. It catches girls only if they are slow. Now go.”
“But I’m scared.”
“Well, you can be a little bit scared, or you can be a great bit sore from a good thumping. What’s it going to be?”
Sniffling, Xanthippe hung her head. Using small steps, Xanthippe trudged round the western side of the offal. Her right hand was carrying a piece of wood that was one foot long and had a narrow end and a wide end. Her left hand was carrying a stubby stick. With the stick, Xanthippe hit the wood in her right hand. The bonk echoed round the island. Xanthippe hit the instrument in her right hand repeatedly while she stepped toward the cave’s entrance.
Using his index fingers, Anaxagoras poked Jono and Chloë in the back. Anaxagoras barked, “Go.” Jono and Chloë walked round the offal on its west side.
Euphrasia shouted, “You two, that’s far enough. Face me now.” Jono and Chloë halted three steps south of the offal and turned to look down upon Euphrasia. Anaxagoras stepped to Euphrasia’s right side. In the cave’s mouth, Xanthippe was striking her instrument hard and fast.
From inside the cave came a loud sloshing and a loud clicking. Xanthippe shrieked. She dashed past Jono and Chloë while they twisted themselves to look toward the cave. On the west side of Euphrasia and Anaxagoras, Xanthippe ran toward a breach in the westerly line of rocks. She went through the breach. She ran toward the sea.
Anaxagoras backed awkwardly toward the sea. Euphrasia backed down the slope. A great gush of water slopped out of the cave. While the water was snaking toward the offal, Jono backed two steps eastward and away from the water’s course. Chloë backed two steps westward while the water coursed between her and Jono.
A monster surged out of the cave. Towering above Jono and Chloë, its two black eyes, each the size of a sheep’s head, gloomed from underneath a pointed, bony cap. Out from under each eye, a long, whip-like feeler was swaying. The feelers reached forward between — and beyond — two enormous, knobby, crab-like claws. The monster was swaying forward and backward on many stick-like legs. Every sway made a clicking. A forward sway brought the claws within one stride of Jono and Chloë.
Anaxagoras turned. He limped quickly away from the monster. Euphrasia turned. She waddled quickly after Anaxagoras. Jono stepped toward the monster. Jono barked at Chloë, “Stay back!” Chloë did not move. She fixed her eyes on the creature’s left eye.
The monster swayed backward. Its feelers whipped above the heads of Jono and Chloë. The monster’s right feeler waved its tip in front of Jono’s face. The feeler reached for Jono’s head. Jono jerked his head out of the way. He stepped back.
Clicking, the monster swayed forward. Its claws were opening a little and then closing quickly. Reaching for Jono, the feelers poked and jabbed around him but did not touch him. Jono stepped forward. He swung his right fist at the right feeler. He swung his left fist at the left feeler. He fell flat against the slope. “Oof,” he gasped.
The monster’s feelers reached for Chloë. She tried to slap the feelers while they danced around her. The monster pulled its feelers away from Chloë. It lifted its feelers high above its claws.
Jono jumped across the water that was between him and Chloë. He put himself between Chloë and the monster. The monster quit swaying and clicking. It lowered its claws and opened them. It lunged. Chloë screamed. Jono shut his eyes.
The monster snapped its claws into the pile of offal. Clicking and making a trail of scales and fish-heads, the monster quickly dragged its well-rewarded claws into its cave. The monster backed out of sight. The clicking ceased. Jono opened his eyes.
Jono turned quickly toward Chloë. The crowd, which had Euphrasia at its head, was shuffling toward Jono and Chloë. Xanthippe, who was clutching her instrument, was at Euphrasia’s right.
Jono stepped to the west of Chloë. He kept his eyes on the crowd. Chloë kept her eyes on the cave. Jono demanded, “What’s your name?”
Chloë uttered, “I don’t know you.”
Jono pleaded, “Tell me your name!” He stepped toward the Ixians. Chloë turned toward the Ixians. Jono barked, “Are you Chloë?”
“What if I am?”
“Then you’re a witch. They can’t hurt us.”
Euphrasia shouted to Jono and Chloë, “Stay where you are. There’s no place to hide.”
Chloë grumbled, “You shouldn’t call people names.”
“I’m not calling you a name. I’m trying to tell you something. You’re a witch. I’m a warlock. My name is Jono.”
Chapter 26 : Prometheus
From above the eastern edge of Ixia came a clamor of mewing, braying and squawking that stopped the Ixians from approaching Jono and Chloë. The clamor came out of a creature that had dragon-wings and three dragon-heads. Each head was as big as a badger’s head. Each head had a neck that was as long as, and as thick as, a viper. The necks merged into a body that was scaly, blue and as big as a wolf. Each of the creature’s four sturdy legs had claws like a bear’s. The creature’s tail was a hissing cobra.
The creature landed west of Jono and Chloë. It landed in the shadows that were west of the westerly line of rocks. As soon as it touched ground, the creature vanished. A puff of white smoke erupted from the spot where the creature had been.
One moment later a man stepped out of the smoke. He walked swiftly through a breach in the westerly line of rocks. Neither tall nor short, the man was portly and balding. Slightly more than twice as old as Jono, the man did not have a beard, but he had a thick black mustache. Over a billowy, long-sleeved, light-green shirt and over billowy, dark-green leg-coverings, the man had a knee-length cloak. When he walked, the man flourished the cloak, which was orange on the outside and golden on the inside. Black leather boots completed the man’s attire.
Halting a few steps from Jono and Chloë, the man faced the Ixians. He showed them his palms. He shouted, “Fear not, mortals! It is I, your savior and master.” The man held up the sides of his cloak. “I am the great Titan. I am the creator of people. I am the bringer of life and of fire. You may tremble in awe.”
Xanthippe pulled on Euphrasia’s tunic. Xanthippe asked, “What does he mean, Momma?”
The man twirled completely round. Facing west and holding his chin high, he stood with the wings of his cloak outstretched.
“He means you should be excited. Look excited, Xanthippe.” Over her right shoulder, Euphrasia shouted, “Everybody, look excited!”
Xanthippe joined the other Ixians in wiggling her fingers and in saying aah and ooh. Two women threw themselves prone to the ground. They stretched out their arms. Some of the standing Ixians opened their mouths and flapped their hands. The man turned toward the crowd.
“I see you are making some sort of sacrifice,” the man said. He took a step down the slope. “On behalf of the gods and the goddesses and all the immortals, I acce
pt your sacrifice. I am well pleased by the honor you do me. I will permit you to send forth your girls to kiss my hand and to adore me.” The man held out his right hand with its palm downward. He stuck his right cheek forward.
Euphrasia tried to push Xanthippe toward the man. Euphrasia urged, “Xanthippe, go! Kiss the nice Titan.”
Xanthippe whined, “I don’t want to.”
Euphrasia muttered, “You’ll go if you know what’s good for you.” She tugged on Xanthippe’s left ear.
Xanthippe batted away Euphrasia’s hand. Xanthippe fell to her knees. She wrapped her arms round her head. She squealed, “No, no, no!”
No one moved toward the newcomer. He shouted grumpily, “Oh very well then. Be on your way. I shall take charge now. Leave your sacrifices to me. Go back to your chores. Do what you were doing. Be as you were.” The people who were on the ground put themselves on their feet but the crowd did not leave.
The man turned toward Jono and Chloë. “Come away from that stink,” he commanded. He beckoned with his right index finger. Chloë followed Jono. They shuffled past the offal. They took the few steps down the slope that separated them from the newcomer. He asked, “What’s your name, girl?”
“Chloë.”
“And your name, boy?”
“Jono.”
“That’s not much of a name; is it, boy? Your parents must have thought you were going to be stupid. And you’re scrawny too. That’s a tough break. I’m guessing by your garb, boy, that you two are helpers. Why are you dressed in rags like that, girl?”
“I don’t know.”
“What happened to your clothing?”
“These are the only coverings I have.”
“I can see that, girl. I’m asking you . . . oh, never mind.”
“Do you have your broom, boy?”
“I don’t know where it is.”
“What happened to it?”
“I don’t know.”
“You two don’t know much; do you?”
Chloë said, “There are some brooms in the cave where I sleep.”
“Fetch them, girl,” the man urged. “Fetch all the brooms you can carry. Go.”
Chloë ran westward. She passed through the western line of rocks. She ran toward the cave that was the second cave westward of the middle cave. She went into the cave.
“Where’s your cloak, boy?”
“A man took it.”
The newcomer looked Jono up and down, then took him by the shoulders and turned him half way round. The man put his right hand inside his cloak. He withdrew the hand and placed it upon Jono’s left shoulder. “Stolize,” he commanded.
An instant later Jono had new clothes. He had a yellow shirt, a black skirt, bright orange boots and a cloak that was dark green on its outside and light green on its inside. The Ixians let out some aahs and some oohs. Some Ixians broke into applause.
Bowing, the wizard shouted to the Ixians, “Thank you. Thank you. It was really nothing. You are too kind.” He put his right hand inside his cloak for an instant. He turned his attention again to Jono. “There,” said the wizard, “you look like a proper warlock. What are you doing out here?”
“I was on my way to school,” Jono replied. “A teacher — his name is Mentor — came to my island. He wanted me to go with him. So I did. But then these birds came, and they pooped all over me. I was on an island to wash myself, and some men caught me. Then a monster pulled the men off the boat and left me to drift. I ended up on another island and I met some spuds, and then I came here.”
“Ah, yes, good old Mentor,” the wizard said. “You’re a Grade One then?”
“I guess.”
“And the girl is a Grade One too?”
“Yes.”
Chloë ran toward Jono. When she halted beside him, she was carrying two brooms. One was an old broom. It had a few broken twigs as a brush. The other was a polished broom with a full brush and a strap.
“You needn’t have brought that worn-out thing,” the wizard declared. “You can see that’s not a wizard’s broom.”
Jono advised, “She doesn’t know—”
The wizard raised his hand. “You will do me the courtesy of not interrupting, boy. If I want to hear from you, I will let you know. Children should be seen but not heard. That’s the rule. Remember it.” The wizard took the newer broom from Chloë. “Is this your broom, boy?”
“It looks like mine.”
“Well, is it yours, or isn’t it? Didn’t you put your name on it? You should put your name on your broom, boy, or take better care not to lose it. You shouldn’t go round flinging your broom willy-nilly. Brooms are not meant to be thrown just anywhere. Put that old broom down, girl.”
“Where?”
“Just anywhere. What difference does it make? Throw it down.”
Chloë rolled her eyes at Jono. She shrugged. She let the older broom drop.
Keeping his left hand waist-high, the wizard held the other broom with its brush downward. “Anabasticize,” the wizard said. The brush rose and the handle sank until the broom was horizontal.
“Katabasticize,” the wizard ordered. The brush fell. “So we have one broom — here, boy.” The wizard gave the broom to Jono. “I will take you first. I will be back for you, girl, well before Helios leaves the sky. Stay close to me, boy. We haven’t time for any foolishness.”
“Mentor said I shouldn’t fly in daylight,” Jono said.
“You don’t want to pay much attention to foolish, old Mentor. His time is past. But you don’t have to worry. I am going to become the creature with three heads. No! I will make it five heads this time. If you fly beneath me, the gods will not see you.”
“I think it’s a bad idea to leave Chloë alone.”
“You think too much, boy. Nobody likes people who think. If you do not want your life to be a basket of troubles, do as you are told. The girl will be fine. Trust me. I’ll be back in no time. Ready? Go.”
The wizard flourished his cloak. A puff of white smoke took his place. Out of the smoke emerged a dragon-like creature. It had five heads on snake-like necks. It had a cobra for a tail. The Ixians applauded. The creature launched itself out of the long shadows.
“Bye,” Jono said to Chloë. “Remember: no one can hurt you.” He stepped across his broom. “Anabasticize,” he ordered. When the broom carried him northward, the Ixians applauded.
Chapter 27 : Aegis meets Chloë
From their caves the Ixians were watching Chloë. In shadow, on the west beach, she was pacing eastward along the water’s edge. Using the worn-out broom as a staff, Chloë turned to go westward at the western line of rocks. At that instant, one pace east of Chloë, Aegis made himself visible. While some Ixians pointed at Aegis, some exclaimed, “Look!”
Aegis was putting his broom over his back when Chloë turned toward him. Chloë asked, “Who are you?”
Aegis pulled his hood from his head. He replied, “Who are you?”
“I asked you first.”
“My name is Aegis, son of Orux, a stonemason, of Syria.”
“I’m pleased to make your acquaintance, Aegis. I’m Chloë, daughter of Marcos, of Sternon Island.”
“Chloë! I’ve been looking for you. Where have you been? What is this place?”
“Ixia. I woke up here this morning. I went to bed last night. Then my father told me to get up. He said we had to go even though I wanted to sleep. Then I was in the boat. And then there was another boat. Men were shouting. Somebody grabbed me; and then I was here. Why do you want me? How do you know about me?”
“I’m a warlock. I’m here to invite you to a place called a school. You may learn about magic there. You’re a witch.”
“Why do you boys keep calling me names? I haven’t done anything to you.”
“I’m not calling you a name. I’m telling you something that is true. I’m stating a fact. You are a witch. You have magic. I’ll show you.”
Aegis withdrew his wand from his cloak.
To Chloë, he said, “Take this.” Chloë’s right hand took the wand.
Chloë asked, “What’s this?”
“That is a wand,” Aegis replied. “Look at my boots. Imagine that boots like mine are on your feet. Touch your left arm with the wand. Say stolize.”
Chloë furrowed her brow. She used the wand to touch her left arm. “Stolize,” she said. Instantly Chloë had black boots. Chloë gaped. She stared at her boots. Oohs and aahs came from the Ixian women and girls. The Ixians applauded. Chloë stamped her feet.
“You see,” Aegis said. “You have magic. Give me the wand.” Chloë handed the wand to Aegis. “I will give you an outfit like mine. Hold out your left arm.” Chloë held her left arm toward Aegis. Aegis held the wand’s tip against Chloë’s arm. He ordered, “Stolize!”
Instantly Chloë was wearing a white shirt, a black skirt and a black cloak as well as black boots. The Ixians applauded. Chloë took a deep breath. She sucked her lower lip. With long strokes, she smoothed her new skirt. She twisted herself round. “I can hardly believe it,” she said.
“The magic that you possess protects you and lets you do wonderful things. Magic is a gift from our creator, the greatest of the Titans. Do you know who he is?”
“Yes. He’s like a god. He’s bald and he has a mustache and he’s big around the tummy. And he wants girls to look excited and to kiss him. He wears coverings that are orange and golden and green.”
“I don’t know about some of what you said but, yes, our creator is like a god. He wants you to use your magic to help people. He wants you to come with me so you will learn how to use your magic. You were born a wizard but you need some schooling.”
“First you call me a witch; then you say I am a wizard. Which is it?”
“Both. A witch is a female wizard. A warlock is a male wizard.”
“I want to talk to my father first.”
Aegis dropped his chin. He stared at his shuffling feet. “I’m sorry, Chloë. I just came from your island. The god of the sea smashed Sternon. The god of the sea took your father and your brothers into the deep. Your home is a pile of rubble.” Aegis paused. “There are survivors,” he said. “Perhaps you want to talk to your relatives?”
“I don’t believe you!”
“I call upon the Fates to end my life now if I am lying,” Aegis said. He paused. “I understand your grief. You have my sympathy, Chloë.”
