Exiled

by J. R. Wagner

  The incantations that required such an emotional foundation were usually a combination of dark and contemporary spells, which he mastered quite easily. He had mastered everything he had been taught. And yet, here in The Never, he only knew three magic words.

  And then it struck him like a bolt of lightning. Could it be that simple? The island was trying to tell him what he needed. He needed to let go. He needed to accept the past for what it was and move on. James needed to relieve himself of emotions that burdened his spirit in order to understand the language of this land. He believed it, but was uncertain how to do it—or even if he could.

  A noise brought him back from his contemplative state. He turned and saw Luno lying prone in the sand just in front of the doorway. James rushed to his side and rolled him over. Luno was staring off into space. James called his name, but he did not respond. James put his ear to Luno’s mouth and could feel his warm breath against it. James shook him and shouted his name once more. Luno did not respond.

  James lifted Luno’s head and slid his arm behind his neck. As he reached for his legs, James realized Luno was clutching a wooden box in his hands. The box was the width of James’s extended hands. It had a black metal latch in the center that was secured by an ornate sliver lock. James laid Luno’s head gently back on the sand and pulled, but Luno’s hands did not release the box. He pulled harder to no avail.

  Not wanting to waste any more time, James scooped up Luno’s body and hurried down the sandy rise to the boat. He set Luno in the bottom of the small boat. James quickly removed his cloak and tucked it behind Luno’s head. He looked again into Luno’s eyes. They continued to stare unblinking into space. He shouted his name once more. Nothing. James pushed the boat into the water and carefully boarded, trying not to step on his friend.

  Relieved that the waters were lake-calm, James steadily rowed through the cave entrance and toward the pier behind him.

  As he came within shouting distance of the pier, James yelled for Kilani. Several people who were watching the small boat draw near began to shout over their shoulders. James knew he couldn’t lift Luno up the ladder onto the pier and so decided to row to the shore. The onlookers moved down the pier as the boat passed. By the time James reached the beach, a crowd had gathered. Many hands pulled the bow of the small boat up onto the beach. James looked back for Kilani, and he was relieved when he saw her running through the crowd toward the boat.

  James again scooped Luno up in his arms. He handed him to Kilani and two other men. James recognized Roger and William. Both men wore concerned expressions. He hopped out of the boat and took Luno back from the helpers.

  “His house,” Kilani said, knowing what James was going to ask before he asked it.

  William and Roger cleared the crowd in front of them as James and Kilani quickly moved up the beach and onto the pier. James heard the crowd shout as he passed: “What happened to Luno?” “What is he holding?” “Is he dead?” “Is he going to be okay?” William had the door to the house open before they got there. James stepped inside with Luno. Kilani was just behind. She looked at William and Roger, who stood at the doorway.

  “Nobody gets in,” Kilani said to the men. Both nodded. Kilani turned as Roger closed the door, and the men took up positions on either side.

  James laid Luno on the cot and took a step back. Kilani quickly stepped forward and kneeled beside him. James could see the emotions she’d been holding back begin to come through her typically unreadable face. Her eyes welled up with tears and a few made their way down her smooth, tanned skin toward her full red lips. She sniffled as she whispered into his ear.

  She turned to James. Luno was very good at getting himself into trouble. Kilani knew this and held no blame in her expression as she asked what happened. James briefly told her about the cave. She looked at the wooden box still stuck in Luno’s grasp. She pulled at the box, but it held fast. She stood quickly, closed her eyes, and said, “Voriko.”

  The box shook slightly as if trying to come free then was motionless once more. James then stood over Luno, extended his hand and repeated the word, “Voriko.” The sliver lock moved upward where it paused for a moment before falling limp. As it fell, a loud click sounded from inside the lock.

  James and Kilani glanced at each other, and he stooped and pulled at the lock. It slid off effortlessly.

  “Should I open it?” James asked.

  Without a word, Kilani reached down and lifted the wooden lid. A small black key lay on a bed of purple satin. Kilani lifted the key before James could give warning. Luno’s hands immediately went limp, spilling the wooden box onto the floor. Luno sat bolt upright with a scream. He looked around for a moment then fell back to the cot unconscious.

  Kilani quickly set the key on the table and bent over Luno. As she tended to him, James’s attention was drawn to the key. It was such a small insignificant thing, yet he couldn’t help but move closer to it. He felt a connection to it. His need for it increased with every step until he reached for it. The moment the cool black steel touched his skin, an image of the black castle flashed through his mind. The desire to reach the castle came flooding back as he held the key tightly in his hand.

  Beside him on the cot, Luno began rubbing his eyes. With Kilani’s help, he slowly sat up. The moment Luno regained focus, he began looking around franticly.

  “Where is it?” he demanded. Before James could respond, Luno’s eyes found the box lying on the floor, its lid open. The purple satin fanned out like sand from a broken hourglass.

  “The key! Where is the key?” Luno asked.

  James didn’t want to share the key with anyone. He squeezed it tighter in his hand, hoping Kilani would forget he’d ever picked it up.

  “James,” said Kilani, “where is the key?”

  Reluctantly, James opened his hand, revealing the black key.

  “Thank goodness,” said Luno relaxing his shoulders. He stood and stretched as if waking from a long sleep. James had to fight the urge to snap his hand shut as Luno moved closer to inspect the key.

  “Of course,” he said, excitedly. “How could I have been so foolish?”

  After a moment of introspection, Luno looked up.

  “It is believed that the box contained the key to the black castle. The key to our escape.”

  “How did you learn of it and why haven’t you mentioned this to me before?” Kilani asked.

  “Akil discovered it. He told me where I would find it. He said if I went looking for it before it was ready to be found, it would not be found at all.”

  “How did you know the time was right?” James asked. “I didn’t until the guardian.”

  “You saw a guardian?” Kilani asked excitedly.

  “We did,” Luno said.

  “I knew it,” Kilani whispered.

  “I don’t understand. How did the guardian tell you it was time to seek this box?” James asked.

  “Sometimes I can’t help but marvel at how dim-witted you can be, my boy. What did the guardian tell you?”

  “It said I have been granted what has been denied all others.”

  “Exactly. You can travel over water safely. This means you have the power to return to our world. The moment the guardian confirmed what we already suspected, I knew it was time to search for the key.”

  Now that we have the key, our voyage may begin. We will need it before the end.”

  — 21 —

  A Prophetic Journey

  March 1886, India

  Stuart and Margaret, mounted on their respective geldings, appeared in a flash of light. Margaret’s expression was one of absolute terror. She clung to Noch’s neck, her eyes tightly shut. Stuart, on the other hand, looked completely at ease and pleased with himself. He lowered his arm, which had been wrapped tightly around his wife’s waist, as he surveyed his surroundings.

  They had arrived in a clearing surrounded by dense forest. A tiger, previously enjoying its fresh kill, looked up in surprise at the sudden and inexpli
cable arrival of the uninvited guests. It quickly lifted the carcass and ran off into the vegetation.

  “Right, then,” Stuart said, expecting his wife to release the white knuckled grip she had on her horse and open her eyes. When it became apparent she was not intending on releasing Noch anytime in the near future, he spoke.

  “Margaret, my dear. All is well. We are here.”

  Slowly, reluctantly, she lifted her head and opened her eyes. She let out a breath, which she had apparently been holding since their departure.

  “Where?” she asked.

  “India. Northern India to be precise.”

  Margaret looked around, searching for clues to their location. To her dismay, she could have been in any clearing in any jungle in the world. She didn’t want to believe they had traveled by magic. She had no choice but to accept that they had, a moment ago, been just outside the cottage of Tabitha Ogilvy.

  “How do you know we’ve gone where we were supposed to?” she asked.

  “I’ve been here before,” Stuart replied.

  “You’ve spoken with the seer? Why didn’t you mention this?”

  “No. I’ve traveled here previously. One cannot transport to a place they haven’t physically been –unless of course they’re traveling with someone else as you are. It’s one of the eight unbreakable laws of sorcery,” replied Stuart pensively.

  Margaret nodded, remembering everything her husband had told her before they left. In the brief conversation, he had told her that the seer, who’s name nobody knew, had summoned her. Someone summoned me? she thought. Margaret asked what happened if someone ignores this so-called seer’s summons. Both Stuart and Tabitha looked aghast. “That is not an option,” Stuart said sternly.

  “Shall we? Stuart asked, turning Archos toward the edge of the clearing.

  Margaret nodded, hesitantly turned Noch, and followed. They continued through the jungle for several hours. Margaret couldn’t discern any trail and wondered how her husband knew where they were going.

  Finally, the dense jungle thinned and a heavily trodden trail appeared beneath them. As the miles passed, the trail became wider and eventually was wide enough to fit a carriage. After a few more miles, the vegetation lining the road receded. They crossed over a rickety wooden bridge. Beneath twisted a muddy stream, its banks so overgrown with plant life not a spec of dirt could be seen. Margaret watched as a jonquil leaf floated under the bridge with the current. When she lifted her head, she spotted the first sign of human habitation since their arrival. Two small shacks stood sentinel on either side of the road ahead. The mud walls and exposed wooden supports reminded her of houses she’d seen on her last trip to France. These buildings were much smaller and had contrasting colors with their dark mud and light wood.

  As they passed the buildings, Margaret couldn’t see any windows, chimneys, or doors. Beyond the buildings the road split. In the crotch stood a row of small houses. Each branch of the road was also lined with houses. All made of mud and wood. The roofs were flat. The doorways were covered with fabric.

  “Where is everyone?” whispered Margaret.

  “At the river, I imagine,” Stuart replied.

  “All of them?”

  “I suppose so. Although it does seem a bit odd,” Stuart replied.

  They continued past the houses, taking the left fork to the opposite end of the village. There were still no signs of life. Not even an animal stirred in the afternoon sun. The road banked away from the habitations and began to descend toward the jungle. Margaret looked back over her shoulder at the abandoned village before her view was obstructed by the hill. She shuddered and couldn’t avoid the thought that something wasn’t right.

  They continued along the road, which abruptly changed back into a trail as they passed through the tree line into the jungle. Margaret noticed her husband’s pace quicken. She tapped Noch with her heels so as not to fall behind.

  Before she could see it, she heard the musical sound of water rolling over small rocks on a riverbed. The trees became less dense and Margaret was able to see the river. It was very wide, but shallow. Not a person was visible and again she shuddered. Stuart stopped when he reached the side of the river. Margaret pulled Noch alongside him.

  “What is it?” she asked.

  “Do you hear any birds?” he asked.

  She fell silent. The only sound came from the river. Neither bird nor other animal made a sound. She’d cursed the noises that had filled her ears for the past several hours and now she longed for anything but silence.

  “Nothing,” she whispered.

  Stuart scanned the area for signs of life, a nervous expression on his face.

  “James, what’s happening here?”

  “I wish I knew,” he said.

  After a moment he took a deep breath, tightened his grip on the reins, and gently tapped Archos with his heels. The horse slowly stepped into the water and moved across the shallow river. Margaret reluctantly followed. When they reached the midpoint, Stuart paused, his gaze fixed upstream.

  “What is that?” he asked.

  Margaret squinted trying to make out the object that was floating toward them. At first she thought it was a branch, but as it drew nearer she realized it was a body—the body of a child.

  Margaret let out a gasp. Stuart simply stared, mouth agape as the current carried it closer. Both of them fixed on the small body as it floated past. It was face down in the water, minimally clothed, and white, as if it had been in the water for some time. Margaret looked up at Stuart, who continued to stare at the body. In her periphery, she caught sight of something else coming downstream. Slowly, she turned her head.

  Her voice was stolen by fear. Dozens of bodies were floating toward them. After several muted shrieks Margaret found her voice. Stuart turned quickly away from the child’s body still ambling lazily downstream. A scream, rarely heard from a man’s throat, echoed that of his wife’s. Without hesitation Stuart brought Archos to a full gallop until he was out of the water. Margaret and Noch were just behind. They both stopped, catching their breath. Margaret lifted her head, which had been buried in Noch’s mane, and looked toward the river. The bodies were gone.

  She looked downstream thinking perhaps they had already passed but saw nothing save the clear water rolling over shallow stones. She looked upstream. Nothing.

  “What’s happening?” she asked.

  “I have the feeling we are unwelcome here,” replied Stuart, having regained his composure.

  “I thought you’ve been here before.”

  “I have. Someone doesn’t want me to take you to see him.” “I thought you said he’s just an old man?”

  “He is a seer, the greatest living seer, and he has asked for you,” Stuart replied with incredulity at her disrespect.

  “In all his known existence he has asked to see two people. The first is by many people’s standards the greatest sorcerer to ever live.”

  Margaret let out a mocking laugh at the word “sorcerer.”

  “Despite all that you’ve seen, the fact that we’ve traveled across the world in an instant, things you couldn’t possibly explain, you continue to treat this with the pomposity of someone who thinks they know better than to believe their own eyes. You must be humble before him.”

  “James, I’m sorry. Truly. I believe I’m compensating for my fear, for my uncertainty. I don’t know how to act in response to all that you’ve told me so I act the way I’ve been conditioned to act. With contempt. I apologize and promise to make more of an effort to show my respect.”

  Content with her response, Stuart heeled Archos and began up the trail that wound around the side of a rather steep hillside.

  “Stay close, my love,” Stuart said. “I am sure other obstacles will lie in our path before we reach our destination.”

  My love. How long had it been since he’s said that? Margaret wondered.

  — 22 —

  The Three Widows

  Rain was falling. Since Luno�
��s arrival, he could recall this weather anomaly on two other occasions. Both lasted less than a minute. Such was not the case today. The deluge began just before dawn and showed no signs of letting up. Everyone in Harbor Town was drawn out into the storm. So it was James, Kilani and Luno found themselves, along with all the residents of Harbor Town, standing on the pier letting the rain soak them through and through. Some people simply stood with their mouths open, enjoying the ability to drink fresh water falling from the sky. Others danced like children. Some stood completely naked, letting the rain soak their skin, showing no modesty whatsoever. Luno simply shook his head. “Of all the bloody days,” he said.

  “It is a sign from the island,” Kilani said, wringing the water out of her hair.

  “Perhaps we should wait until the rain stops before we depart,” James suggested as he looked around, convinced some of the residents had lost their minds.

  “We will delay no longer. Besides, I am quite certain it would rain on whichever day we decided to go,” Luno said.

  “I don’t understand. The island has given us the power to travel across the water, why would she try to prevent us from leaving?” James asked.

  “Like any woman, some things we just won’t understand,” Luno said, smiling at Kilani. Her expression made it clear she was not amused.

  “The ship is already packed. There is nothing left for us to do but depart. I shall see you on deck.”

  Having been outside already, the residents of Harbor Town gathered at the end of the pier when they noticed activity on the ship. James and Kilani now stood on deck, along with their two recruited crewmembers, Roger and William, waiting for Luno. The crowd grew silent. James knew Luno had arrived. He made his way on top of the scaffold used during the ship’s assembly and looked down at the crowd.

  “Today marks a momentous occasion. We journey, for the first time to lands yet explored in hopes of bringing back news of a means to our escape.” This was received with cheers and applause. “It appears as if our lady has arranged a special sendoff,” Luno said, extending his arms and lifting his face to the falling rain. The applause was less enthusiastic.