Exiled (10 page)

Six-year-old James turned the corner at full speed and barreled into his father’s legs, nearly knocking him over. Stuart and Margaret stood in the finely manicured gardens behind the large house. Stuart crouched to James’s level with a smile.

“What is it son? Shouldn’t you be with your instructor?” “I want to show you something,” he replied, excitedly. “James, you need to return to your lessons,” Margaret said.

James turned his gaze to his father, knowing he was the most lenient of the pair.

“Quickly,” Stuart said, looking reassuringly at Margaret. She let out a sigh but said nothing. The pair turned and watched as their son took several steps back.

James stopped at the end of the flagstone path and faced his parents with an excited smile. “Goratu,” James said, holding his arms out. The last several stones in the path lifted from their long-undisturbed positions and rose several inches into the air. Stuart laughed and clapped.

“Well done, boy,” Stuart said.

“I’m not done yet,” James replied.

“Well, then,” Stuart said, looking at his wife with a proud smile.

James moved his arms and the stones began to align themselves into a row. Once aligned, each stone rose slightly higher than the next until they formed a set of steps. James stepped up onto the first stone slowly. He moved to the second. As soon as his foot left the first, that stone moved up the line creating another step. James continued to climb. With every step, each successive stone moved to the front of the row. When he reached roughly fifteen vertical feet, James paused and looked down at his parents.

“Now watch this,” he said excitedly.

Without waiting for a response, James took off at full speed. The stones matched his rate of ascension as he ran up the floating staircase. In a matter of seconds, James had climbed higher than the roof of the house.

“My, God!” Stuart said, marveling at his son’s accomplishment.

James stopped and looked down upon at his parents. Even from more than sixty feet above them he could make out their proud smiles.

“James, come down now,” Margaret yelled.

Each stone except the one upon which James stood rotated then lowered creating a descending staircase. Slowly, James made his way back down to the garden.

“What do you think?” he asked, as the last stone settled into its place along the path.

“Very impressive,” Stuart said. “When did you learn that?”

“Just now.”

Stuart and Margaret exchanged glances.

“Run along,” Margaret said. “You don’t want to keep Mr. Ammoncourt waiting.”

James took off at the same breakneck speed at which he had arrived, making his way excitedly around the house. Stuart and Margaret looked at each other and laughed. Stuart took her hands and pulled her close. There was an energy between them neither had felt since shortly after James was born. Margaret ran her hand over the stubble on Stuart’s cheek. He leaned in and kissed her, pulling her close, his body touching hers.

“Ahem,” a voice said from behind them.

The pair turned, giggling like school children, to see a very old man. Hunched over an ornate wooden cane, he looked at them through spectacles thicker than windowpanes. What hair the old man had left turned white long ago. The sweat on his brow and his labored breathing indicated he hadn’t stumbled upon them during a leisurely stroll.

“Mr. Ammoncourt,” Margaret said, “what can we do for you?”

“Your son is quite gifted. I wonder why you won’t send him off to school.”

“We prefer to teach him ourselves,” Margaret immediately replied.

“A sorcerer of his potential should learn from the best.”

“As is our opinion, which is why we called upon you, Mr. Ammoncourt,” Stuart said.

Mr. Ammoncourt smiled and appeared to lose his train of thought. After a moment, he shook his head as if clearing it and refocused his attention on the couple. “I should like to take the boy to see council headquarters. Every child goes at his age to see the heart of our culture.”

“I’m afraid that isn’t possible at the moment. We are not at liberty to divulge the details, but were told by Tabitha Ogilvy your discretion regarding these teachings would be paramount.”

“Yes, of course. I apologize. I just thought  .  .  . well, it isn’t important.”

Mr. Ammoncourt waited for Stuart or Margaret to take the bait, but neither obliged. When he realized the conversation wasn’t progressing as he’d liked, he gave the couple a smile, gripped his cane in his hands, and turned back toward the house. When he finally disappeared around a corner of the house, Stuart looked at Margaret.

“Strange old fool, isn’t he?”

“Tabitha said Akil highly recommended him. He said they have quite a history together.”

Margaret and Stuart spent the remainder of the afternoon discussing where they would go next. Margaret again brought up the impact constant relocating may have on James. Though she realized moving was necessary to ensure James’s safety, she always tried to take into consideration the long-term ramifications of living such a lifestyle. Such is the life of the one who will change the course of history, Akil reminded Margaret during one of their monthly meetings. He had agreed with Margaret that as James grew older, he may begin to resent his parents for never growing roots anywhere. The consistency of living in the same home, being surrounded by the same friends, and going to the same school were all things James had never known.

Stuart enjoyed selecting new destinations. He made an effort to choose places with historical significance. Once they’d decided upon a destination, Stuart would tell James the history as they were packing. Akil had given him the book
The History of Sorcery in Eastern Europe
not long after they had met for the first time. Stuart was thrilled to learn a new history of the lands he’d thought he knew so well. Many of the magical historical events coincided with the events of contemporary European history that he had studied in school.

Stuart and Margaret were bent over a map in the drawing room of the massive estate house. They were once again startled by a raspy old “Ahem” and Stuart wondered how a man who’d seen so many winters had been able to sneak up on them not once, but twice.

“We have concluded our lesson for today,” Mr. Ammoncourt said, looking up at the pair through his thick glasses. “Same time tomorrow?”

“Please,” Stuart replied.

“Very well,” Mr. Ammoncourt gave them a nod and turned toward the door. He paused for a moment, and Stuart wondered if he was planning on standing there the rest of the afternoon. Slowly, he turned back toward the couple. His face and expression gave him the look of a different man. Even his voice sounded different when he spoke.

“You aught to consider getting married,” he said.

“Sir, we’ve been married for nearly seven years,” Stuart replied.

“What unfaithful consider marriage differs from ours. In a sorcerer’s marriage ceremony, a magical bond is created between the pair. It can only happen between true loves, and you will feel each other here,” he said, his hand over his heart, “forever. Well, that is, until one of you dies. I’m surprised Akil has not mentioned this before.”

“No, he has not,” Margaret said tersely. “Thank you for your suggestion.”

“Very well, I’ll be going now.”

With that, Mr. Ammoncourt removed his hand from his cloak and gently tossed a pinch of purple transporting powder over his head. In a swirl of purple smoke and a flash of white light he was gone. Stuart and Margaret looked at each other, both in a state of panic. Akil had cast a spell (one of his own creation, of which he was very proud) that prevented the transporting powder from working for anyone other than Stuart and Margaret if they were within a quarter mile of James. The spell was meant to ensure that James would avoid being ambushed if their location was discovered. Until that very moment, it had worked flawlessly.

They both ran from the drawing room into the main hall where they saw James seated at the large stone-topped table busily writing. He didn’t look up as his parents hurried to his side. Stuart couldn’t help but imagine Alvaro’s men readying to transport into the house this very moment. His eyes darted from door to window, imagining enemies suddenly appearing and trying to take his son.

Once they had confirmed James was safe, Margaret took a calmer, more rational approach. She could see the panic swelling in her husband. She knew nothing good ever came of reacting from panic. She gently put her hand on his shoulder.

“Let us test before we react,” she said calmly.

Stuart exhaled. Margaret could almost see the panic escaping from his lungs as he did so. He nodded. Reaching into his cloak he pinched a bit of transporting powder from the pouch he always carried, tossed it over his head and said, “
Bidaia egin
,” and disappeared in a swirl of purple smoke. Several moments later, he reappeared, immediately looking around the room.

“It still works,” he said with a sigh. “I transported to Tabbi’s, and we both attempted to transport back together.”

Margaret repeated the process. The pair looked at each other and then at James.

“I like this place,” James said. “We should stay here a while.”

“When is our next meeting with Akil?” Stuart asked, looking at Margaret.

“Ten days,” she replied.

“Tomorrow we will question Mr. Ammoncourt. Based on his answer, we may move up our relocation date.”

“I agree,” Margaret replied.

James, meanwhile, turned back to the long sheet of parchment in front of him. He had learned to write when he was four and mastered the skill shortly thereafter. His penmanship was neater than that of his father’s, and his ability to form sentences was far beyond the level of the average five-year-old. “Boy, what are you writing?” Stuart asked.

“Mr. Ammoncourt gave me homework. I want to get it done so I can practice my skills.”

“Homework?” Margaret asked. No other instructors had ever given James homework.

“He’s having me write the three forms of magic, what they mean, and how to perform each of them.”

“Is he?” Stuart said, more to himself. He wasn’t sure he liked Mr. Ammoncourt. His style was drastically different than that of every other instructor they’d used previously.

The following morning, Stuart was perched on a secondfloor balcony that overlooked the rear gardens and the hillside beyond. On the narrow dirt lane that wound over the distant hills, he could make out a traveler approaching on horseback. The trail of dust left behind as the horse progressed down the road reminded Stuart of how dry the season had been.

Akil, being the plant lover that he was, had enchanted the gardens to draw moisture from the surrounding area, which kept it lush and green despite the dry weather. He and Margaret had come up with the plan to intercept Mr. Ammoncourt as he made his way from the stable to the house and question him. If they didn’t like his answer, he would be dismissed immediately, and they would relocate to their next destination. Margaret had asked Tabitha Ogilvy to come stay with James during the questioning in the event they didn’t like what he had to say.

Stuart hadn’t admitted it to Margaret, but something about this Mr. Ammoncourt struck a chord of fear inside him. It wasn’t fear of what he’d do to James or Margaret; it was something more subtle. It was as if the little old man held a vast amount of power and knowledge that he only revealed in bits at a time. With Akil, everyone knew he was a powerful sorcerer, and he made no efforts to hide it. Ammoncourt was different. The quiet man had a way about him that made Stuart nervous. He followed the horse with his eyes until it dipped out of sight where the lane descended and crossed the creek. Stuart turned and made his way downstairs. He had approximately ten minutes to make the walk to the stable.

As he descended the wide marble stairs, Stuart nodded at Margaret, who was standing in the foyer quietly speaking with Tabitha. James was finishing his breakfast at the table. The couple strode out of the house and up the drive toward the barn. As they approached the stable, Stuart and Margaret began to grow concerned. Ten minutes had come and gone and still they saw no sign of the old man. They turned the corner and could finally see inside the stable. Mr. Ammoncourt’s grey mare stood tethered in the first stall greedily eating straw out of the manger in front of it. As for Mr. Ammoncourt, there was no sign of him.

Without a second thought, both Stuart and Margaret transported directly into the main hall.

Stuart slowed his breathing and fought desperately to keep his calm as he approached Mr. Ammoncourt, who was speaking quietly with James at the far end of the room beside a pile of books. It appeared as though neither of them had even noticed Stuart and Margaret’s hasty arrival. He put his hand on the old man’s shoulder and spoke quite loudly.

“Mr. Ammoncourt, a word please.”

The old man slowly turned with a confused smile on his face. “Ah, Mr. Stuart. Glad to finally see you,” he said, examining Stuart’s disheveled appearance.

“May we speak with you in private for a moment?” Margaret asked, now beside her husband.

“Of course,” he said. “James, practice what I’ve told you. Perhaps Mrs. Ogilvy can be your partner.”

James looked pleadingly at Tabitha, who did her best to conceal her nervousness behind a smile. She nodded and walked across the room to him. Stuart, Margaret, and Mr. Ammoncourt made their way into the kitchen.

“What can I do for you?” Mr. Ammoncourt asked.

“We’d like to know how it is that you are able to transport so close to our son.”

“What do you mean?

“Akil cast an incantation that prevents anyone from transporting within a quarter mile of James, with the exception of myself and my wife. Until yesterday, we believed it was still working.”

“Did he?” he chuckled. “Silly old fool should have known better. He was never very good with those types of incantations.”

Stuart and Margaret exchanged looks of disbelief. Could this little old man be saying that the great Akil Karanis wasn’t the greatest sorcerer alive? Mr. Ammoncourt saw their faces and quickly began to backpedal.

“Don’t get me wrong, the man is a great sorcerer. One of the greatest. Only an experienced sorcerer who was familiar with his spells would be able to work around this incantation. Your son remains quite safe. I am an old man, so when I’m able, I take certain liberties. Do you understand?”

“Not at all,” Stuart replied.

“This old body can’t travel as well as it used to. I need every shortcut I can take to get from here to there. I came on foot for our first several meetings. First because it is rude to do otherwise and second as you both know you can’t transport anywhere you’ve never been physically—law number one. I did notice a barrier of sorts when I tried to transport the other day, but I simply used an alternate transporting incantation. An incantation I’ve come up with on my own, actually. It seems to work without issue. Now, if it would make the pair of you feel better if I didn’t transport so close to your son, I’ll shall oblige your request.”

“Akil never mentioned that his antitransporting incantation could so easily be avoided. In fact, he’s never mentioned alternate transporting incantations at all.”

“Don’t be alarmed, my good man. This is highly, highly advanced magic best left for those of us who’ve been around a bit longer. Neither Alvaro, nor anyone in his employ have the ability to do what I’ve just done, and I assure you, your son “remains quite safe,” he said, looking from Margaret to Stuart, willing them to believe him with his eyes. “Now, if it makes you feel better, I will strengthen Akil’s incantation and make it completely impossible for anyone to transport near your son, save the pair of you, but I must ask a favor of you if I do this.”

“Name it,” Stuart said.

“Please send someone to fetch my horse at the end of our lesson, my knees are bloody killing me.”

“Consider it done,” Margaret said. “And in the future, you are welcome to ride your horse to the front door, and I will see that he gets stabled for you.”

“Thank you. That is most kind,” he said turning to Stuart. “Marry the woman, before I beat you to it,” he said with a smile and then turned and hobbled through the door back into the great room, his cane clacking on the floor as he went.

Stuart and Margaret looked at each other, both trying to read the other’s expression. After a moment, Stuart began to chuckle and soon, Margaret couldn’t help but join in. Stuart stopped abruptly, reached out, and pulled his wife close. Their eyes met, and he paused, drinking in the deep hazel color. Slowly, he touched his lips to hers. Without a word, he turned and made his way through the kitchen door to watch the old man work. Margaret stood in place for a moment, transfixed by all that she had learned in the last few minutes. Her mind also wondered back to what Mr. Ammoncourt had mentioned the day before. She would ask Tabitha about a sorcerer’s marriage.