“Yeah.”
“What about the poem?”
“Got it.”
“Good, now take a seat while I call everyone to order.” Gatnom motioned towards the tall chair.
Now that Will was closer he could see the chair more clearly. Carved down both armrest and both front legs were hands with long protruding fingers. They were bent slightly (as if strained) and looked like they could tighten at any moment. It was the scariest chair Will had ever seen, especially since Will had never been scared of a chair before. He hesitated, then sat, sliding his bag into his lap without taking it off, and never for a second did he remove his eyes from the hundreds of wooden fingers protruding from the armrest like tentacles.
Meanwhile, Gatnom was trying to quiet the boys. “Guys, it is time to—” The excitement was louder than Gatnom’s voice. “Fancy fire, quiet this crowd,” he said. He made an exploding motion with his hands that ended with both fingers over is lips in the shush position. With a sudden whistle a firework launched out from his hands (almost like it came from the shush). High in the air it exploded, but instead of a boom there was a loud drawn out ssshhhhhh!
You could have a heard a cricket chirp, in fact you did, but he was shushed by an older boy.
“The ceremony is about to begin,” said Gatnom. “I was hoping Master Jared would come, but I’m afraid he may not have gotten word in time. We cannot wait though, the ceremony must be performed as soon as possible. There are only a few months until the war games.”
Will looked around the campfire. Lots of torches and many young eyes shined at him from every direction. Gatnom began to circle the scary chair slowly. “Tonight we awaken…” Gatnom’s voice grew louder as he continued. “…the magic inside of you!” At this the crowd yelled so loud Will felt his chair vibrate. “From this moment on you shall be called Magi, and magic will come alive in your heart. Magic that can kill or heal, destroy or create; magic that is only safe when used under the watchful eye of the King of All.” Gatnom pointed to the sky dramatically. Will looked up. “Is this your desire William of Earth? Shall you join the ranks of magi and stand for justice throughout all of the known universes?”
This time there was no applause. Every creature and every boy leaned in to hear what Will would say. No thought was needed, or at least none was given. Will, being caught up in all the excitement, answered quickly. “Yes, I will!”
Gatnom leaned in, staring at Will strongly with squinted eyes. His voice reverted back to the deep raspy voice he had used when he first met Will. “Are you sure? This magic once alive, will never sleep again. Everyday from this moment on will be different than any other day you have ever known.”
Will nodded. “Yes. I want this. I am sure.”
Gatnom smiled at the answer and his voice returned to the softer version. “Good! Now, sit back in the chair and relax,” he instructed.
Will leaned back, eyeing the scary hands, not so relaxed. Gatnom lifted both hands in front of Will’s face. “Reveal his Real Reasons,” he said. He moved his hands like he was taking an invisible mask off of Will’s face, then he knocked lightly on the arm of the chair. Instantly, without the normal creaking that precedes scary happenings, the wooden hands clasped down onto Will’s arms and legs. Will was trapped before he had the time to react.
“Hey!” Will screamed. As soon as the hands had shut, the wooden fingers started to twitch, squeezing and releasing Will’s arms like a blood pressure cuff. “Gatnom!” Will screamed.
“Relax.”
“Relax?! This chair is—” The grip loosened and the hands unclasped. Will jumped up. “What the crap was that?!”
“A test,” Gatnom answered, as if nothing strange had happened. “Now, recite the poem aloud.”
Will stared at Gatnom waiting for more of an explanation. None came. “Is there any other crazy stuff I need to know about?” he asked.
“I don’t think so.”
“Think?”
Gatnom laughed. “It was a test of your motive, to see if you wished us any secret harm. You passed. Now, recite the poem.”
“Okay,” Will said, shaking his head. “Years shall pass and breath shall too...” Will spoke as clearly as he could, quietly wondering what would happen if he mispronounced a word or said a line out of order. The words floated from his mouth perfectly until the last line joined the air. “...This I know; this magic He gives, it is His and not mine.”
“Perfect,” said Gatnom. “Now, where is your carrier?”
Will took his mother’s locket in his hand and held it up. There was no object more dear to him in the world. He could remember the moment so vividly when his mother had closed his hand around the cold metal. Although Will had never figured out the puzzle that would open the locket, he knew this little pendent held inside of it his entire life.
“Okay,” Gatnom replied. “Are you ready?”
Will felt the inside of his chest go hollow. He swallowed hard. “I think so.”
Gatnom placed the palm of his right hand onto Will’s chest, and the two young men’s eyes met.
“El Dunamis!” Gatnom screamed, quite intensely. The first syllable was fully his voice, in the second a wind could be heard hiding behind Gatnom’s words, the third was more the wind than Gatnom, and the fourth was all wind that did not stop when Gatnom closed his lips. The sound grew to a whirl-wind in the space between Gatnom and Will, like someone was swinging an extension cord in a furious circle, then a swirling fog, not bigger than a baseball cap, faded into sight. It was like warm breath in cold air, then like heavy steam, then blue smoke, then purple powder, then red silk, until with a flash it ignited into a rope of flame. The burning lasso widened, floating up until it was a few feet over Gatnom’s head.
Will felt somewhat calm (as calm as can be expected) until he saw Gatnom’s straining eyes. The older boy was pushing with all of his strength trying to pull away, but his hand was stuck, tied by another strand of fiery rope that Will hadn’t felt until he saw it. The fiery thread was wrapping itself around Will and Gatnom’s wrist, branding a scar every time it made contact with their skin. Will tried to step away, but his feet were cemented to the ground.
“Gatnom! What’s going on?! I—”
In mid sentence a shock wave exploded inside of Will’s belly. He doubled over, jerking Gatnom’s arm down with him, but both of their feet stayed firmly planted to the ground. Another pulse shook Will violently from the inside out, then another, then another in rapid succession. Will bucked like he was being punched in the stomach over and over again. He would have screamed, but his breath had long been knocked out.
Above, the fiery rope split into two separate streams, and at the same moment both shot straight up into the night sky. Up they went, higher than high, as high as the lowest star, until at the zenith the two ropes looped and turned back towards the earth. They twisted as they fell, two intertwining meteors, two cannonballs shot from heaven, perfectly aimed at Will and Gatnom. The two boys closed their eyes, gritted their teeth, and braced for impact.
The flames splashed down upon them, swallowing both young magi whole in a cocoon of fire.
From the outside Wohie stepped forward, instead of backwards like everyone else. She flipped open her hand mirror and spoke the only magic words against fire she could think of. The next moment she was spinning, screaming, and landing with a thud fifteen feet away. The spell had backlashed. In pain she pushed herself onto all fours and screamed. This time not out of courage, but in desperation. Her tears told the truth, which all of us who have witnessed a Magi Awakening already know. This was not normal, nor common, nor ever before seen. Something had went terribly wrong.
Thirteen
Master Jared
A crash jolted Will out of the cot and onto the floor of Gatnom’s tent. He had been awakened by a commotion banging around in the main room.
“What were you thinking, boy?! You know nothing about him other than he claims to be from another world, some world with a name you
cannot even remember! I never gave you permission to make magi of outsiders!”
Will didn’t know the voice, but he knew its tone. Angry. Very.
“I am sorry,” another voice said. It was Gatnom. “I should have never attempted what I knew so little about.”
“Silence!” barked the angry voice. “This is a serious matter. I will have to do much convincing to Lord Markus if you are to be allowed to participate in the War-Games now. Undoubtedly, he knows and has already been distracted from his work!”
There was another crash. When the conversation continued it was at a much lower volume.
“Tell me again; what happened, from start to finish. Leave nothing out.”
“Master, everything was done according to the book. We prepared the mountain-top just as you taught me; we forgot nothing. The moment I spoke the words, some sort of magic I know nothing about appeared. A fire... a... I’m not sure what, but it looked like a living fire appeared and shot high into the sky. The last thing I remember is when it fell down upon us.”
“And the chair? Did you test him in the chair?”
“Yes Master, I placed the probation spell myself. It responded normally, there was no hidden deceit. He’s telling the truth.”
There was a pause, then Gatnom continued, this time more quietly. “One more thing Sir. The chair was destroyed, along with the cloaks.”
This time the crash was not just a crash, but crashes, and the floor vibrated as if the floorboards were being ripped up.
“Arise. The boy is awake and listening. I want to meet him.”
“Yes, sir.”
“Oh snap!” Will said to himself in a whisper scream. He looked all around, but found nowhere to hide. A moment later the door opened and Gatnom walked in. His eyes were frowning, but he forced a smile.
“Good morning, Will. How are you my friend?”
Will, who had been laying since he woke, stood from the cot. Soreness stretched throughout his limbs. “Ahh, not too good. I’m sore.” He stretched his arms out to each side. “How about you?”
“All is well, just a little bruised.”
“What happened?”
“I don’t know,” Gatnom answered. “I have no idea what went wrong.” He lowered his head. This time when he hid his eyes he didn’t look scary, but rather burdened, like the world was living on his shoulders. “Please, forgive me. I never meant to put your life in danger. I am sorry.”
“It’s okay man. I’m fine. It just kinda freaked me out.” Will looked at himself; not a burn mark anywhere. His clothes were dirty, but not scorched. Gatnom must have read his mind.
“The only clothes that burned were the cloaks.”
“That’s weird. Is everyone else ok?”
“Yes, all is well. Wohie tried to extinguish the fire, but whatever magic that was was much too strong. She was blown away, but she is okay, just a little shook up. She has been attending to us both, and she contacted Master Jared.”
“He’s mad huh?”
“Gatnom!” boomed the voice from the other room.
“Yes, he is furious, but come, he wants to meet you. Grab your bag.”
Will painfully lifted his bag onto one shoulder and swung it around to his back. Together the two walked into the main room, which looked like a tornado had hit it. Books were scattered about like ants knocked out of line, and the helpless table was flipped upside down like a turtle stuck on its back, all four legs straight up. Across the room, staring at a hanging painting, was a man wearing a maroon leather cloak that fell to his calves. His hair was long enough to reach mid back and was such a dark brown it almost looked black. In the center of his back was the same symbol that had been on Gatnom’s cloak, the sign of a dragon flying around a planet. Will did not know the symbol was the crest of Lord Markus, nor that standing before him was one of the most powerful magi in Baru.
Will and Gatnom stopped abruptly when Master Jared spoke without turning around.
“Young man,” Jared said, “usually I can read a person only moments after I sense they are near, but for some reason I cannot read you. So, I must tell you up front, if you are innocent I am sorry. Do you understand?”
Will did not.
“I must find the truth. I must have a guarantee you are not lying about who you are,” said Jared.
Gatnom stepped forward. “Master—” He was hushed by a lifted hand wearing another red ring. Jared’s fingers were curled, along with the thumb, and were moving in and out as if he was squeezing an invisible rubber ball. Will felt a tingle in his stomach. He looked to see if something was crawling on him. Nothing was there.
“If you are wondering what you are feeling, it is a spell to detect lies, and it is always absolutely effective.”
“What do you mean?” Will asked. He was beginning to worry. The tingling felt like someone was dragging a warm yarn over his bare skin.
“It’s simple. If you tell the truth, no harm will come to you, but if you lie you will die.”
“Master, is this really necces—?”
“Gatnom! Quiet! You have already pushed your favor to its limit!”
Gatnom backed down. He looked over at Will, who had turned white and was sweating ice water.
“What is your real name?” asked Master Jared.
Will suddenly knew nothing. He couldn’t remember his name, his age, or the last time he had been so nervous. The air stood still and listened, even the seconds that usually quickly tick by slowed to wait on Will’s response.
“My name is Will.”
“Is that your full name?”
“No, no. It’s William Wesley.”
“You have two names?” Master Jared asked.
Gatnom was looking back and forth from Will to Master Jared now.
“Of course.”
“Only the most powerful magi have two names. Are you hiding something?”
“No sir, I swear! In my world, everyone has two names, some three.”
Master Jared turned around, still holding his hand out, and walked within a foot of Will. He had a square jaw and a slightly crooked nose, like it had been broken before, and his eyes were the same brown as wet wood chips, so dark that it was hard to distinguish between retina and pupil. They did not match his pale white skin. Straight dark brown hair slid from his chin to shoulders and down to his back. He wore a snug long sleeved shirt with a short collar, like the collar of a karate gi, but there were no buttons, only knots pushed through small threaded circles. His pants were not tight nor loose, but matched the make a fabric of the shirt. Until now, the dress of the people in Baru had not been strange to Will, having watched lots of movies about pirates and peasants, but Master Jared was dressed more royal.
Master Jared stared Will’s eyes to the ground. “What is the name of your world?“ Master Jared asked. He looked suddenly very curious. “You look the same as us.”
“Everyone in my world looks like this,” Will answered. “It’s called Earth. I live in Americ—”
“Earth, that’s what it was!” Gatnom exclaimed from behind.
“Earth?” Master Jared asked quickly and quietly.
“Yes sir, I’m from Earth.”
“How did you get to Baru?”
Will looked backed at his feet. “My parents were killed. They—”
“Your parents?” Jared interrupted. “What were their names?”
“Eli and Helen,” Will answered. It was hard to say their names, all they had ever been to Will were Mom and Dad.
Master Jared leaned back and looked at Will, his hand was still lifted to his side. “How did you get here?” he asked.
“The letter told me to come.” Will was almost trembling. The tingling was deeper now, inside of his stomach instead of on the skin.
“Letter? What letter?”
Will reached into his bag and took out the crumpled envelope. He felt the same tingling in his hand, like the beginnings of awake in a hand that has been asleep. He handed the letter to Jared, who snatched it
away. Jared read silently. When he finished he dropped his hand, and the tingling stopped. He folded the letter into a small square, wrapped it in a cloth from his pocket, and shoved it inside of his cloak.
“You are apparently telling the truth William Wesley, but I must take this to Lord Markus. We must be sure it is not cursed or charmed by the King. Gatnom, you should have thought of this. The King could be using this to track down this camp.”
Gatnom nodded in agreement.
“Be glad you fell here, boy. Had you not, this letter would have led you to your death. Has Gatnom told you who King Mel Masih is?”
“Yes, sir.”
“Are you sure you want to be involved in this?” Master Jared asked.
“Yes sir, I don’t have anything to go back to anyway.”
Jared stared at Will in quiet thought, then he turned to Gatnom. “For now, train him. I must go to Lord Markus immediately. I will send word soon. Until then, no more ceremonies! Understand?”
“Yes Master.”
And with that Master Jared spun, snapping his coat like a whip. One second his was on the floor, the next he was atop the stairs and gone. Gatnom waited for the tent flap to stop swaying before he spoke. “Are you okay?” he asked.
“Yeah, he’s intense.”
“He can be. I’m sorry. We must watch out for anyone suspicious, and he is not as easy to convince as I.”
“I’ll say,” said Will. He laughed nervously. His adrenaline was receding and his blood felt cold.
“Did you hear what he said? If you are ready we can begin training you in the Magi Arts.”
“Did the ceremony work?”
Gatnom smiled. “Yes, more than I’ve ever seen. Magic has been in your speech ever since you woke. Look at your necklace.”
Will took it in his hand. At first glance the midnight blue looked the same, but looking closer Will could see a small line of light, no wider than a single thread, moving back and forth inside of the metal. It looked like a dancing vein of light inside of marble.
“No one can see that, but you. It is now your carrier. As long as you are near, the magic inside of the carrier will shine.”
The Winter Letter Page 8
