“Very good, James. Most impressive,” Akil said, reaching behind him for the pillow. “And you say you taught yourself that?”
“Yes,” James said proudly.
“Tell me, how did you come up with that particular combination of words?”
“I hear people put together two words all the time. I thought, why not three?”
“And what made you decide upon those three words?”
“‘Break’: apurtu, ‘Stay’: egon, and menderatu. I just guessed which part of the word to use.
“Do you know what the third word in your incantation means?”
“No.”
“How did you come across it then?” Akil asked.
“I heard it used once and always liked the way it sounded. What does it mean, Master Karanis?”
“Akil. Please, my friends call me Akil, and I’d like to count you among them.” James nodded and smiled. “The word, menderatu, means to dominate,” said Akil. “Do you know what dominate means, James?”
“I think it means to beat someone,” he replied.
“Domination means supremacy or superiority over another. Tell me, James, do you recall who spoke this word that so captured your imagination?”
James knew exactly where he heard the word. Roughly a year ago his father had taken him across the sea to Italy on a large ship. One day during their voyage, James was making his way back to their cabin when he heard a man speaking with a distinctly deep and frog-like voice. He followed the voice to an open cabin door and slowly crept up and peeked inside. He saw a man with his back to the door running his hands across what looked like a large mirror, though James could see no reflection. The man repeated “menderatu” over and over as his fingers ran across the glass. The rest of the trip, James repeated that word until his father overheard him.
“What is that you just said?” Stuart asked, concerned.
“Menderatu,” James said, sheepishly.
“We do not speak such words in the magic tongue. It is a dark word. Where did you hear it?”
When James told him, his father quickly rushed him to the nearest empty cabin, and they transported off the boat.
“I was on a voyage with my father. I heard a man saying it,” James told Akil.
“Interesting,” Akil said, taking out his pipe and lighting it. “And does your father know this?”
“Yes, he told me never to say it. He told me it is a dark word. Is that true?”
“Words are words. Nothing more, nothing less. It is the user’s intent of the word that is good or evil. If you do not intend to use it for a dark purpose, I do not believe you should be restricted from using a word. Why limit our potential for fear of a word? As you have so aptly demonstrated, their use can yield powerful results.”
James nodded.
“Tell me, James. Are your parents aware that you can perform magic beyond that which they or your instructors have taught you?” Akil asked.
“No,” James said.
“Why not?”
James knew the answer, but for a nine-year-old it is never easy to express apprehensions. The pressure of being what his parents believed he would be often led James into bouts of deep insecurity and doubt. At times it would become so bad that he would refuse to do magic completely. There were other times, more often than not, when he would excel at a task so quickly that he would shock his instructors and parents alike. Rather than express happiness at his success, his parents would always exchange concerned glances. This happened with such frequency over the past several years that James actually began pretending he was struggling with his new lessons to avoid upsetting his parents. He believed they would be nothing but disappointed with the skills he had taught himself.
Akil had come because he wanted to find out firsthand why James was struggling with his lessons. It was clear that he was a gifted sorcerer, perhaps the most talented student Akil had ever seen. What he wouldn’t give to instruct him, but the time was not right. Akil smiled at James as he struggled for an answer.
“I want them to be happy with me,” James said.
“And you don’t believe they are happy with you when you are doing well?”
It was immediately clear to Akil that Stuart and Margaret were so concerned with keeping James from becoming overly confident that their reactions to his progress were having a detrimental effect. Had James shown a bit of arrogance as he demonstrated the exploding pillow incantation, or had it been confidence? Arrogance in a sorcerer is a dangerous thing. A poor sorcerer is far less dangerous than an arrogant one. Akil would have a word with James’s parents about how they were addressing this issue and the affect it was having.
“Sometimes I think they’re happier when I’m struggling,” James said.
“I see,” replied Akil. “Your swift understanding of your lessons is very important, James. It will most likely save your life.”
— 10 -
Sound and vision synchronously returned as James opened his eyes. He was alive. In his waning moments of consciousness, he’d thought, not for the first time since his arrival, that he was dying. He’d felt as if he was burning from the inside out. There was a blurred face above him. Kilani reached behind his neck and sat him up. He breathed deeply and energy flowed back into his body and the strength he’d felt as they climbed the mountain returned. Everything came into focus, and he stood. Kilani turned, expecting him to follow.
“Wait,” he said.
She looked over her shoulder at him.
“I have so many questions.”
“Soon,” she replied.
She smiled faintly, turned, and headed back toward the top of the rope ladder behind them.
It was light enough to see yet the sun had long since set, and there appeared to be no other source of light. The sky was dark blue rather than the black of night, and James could see the shadow of the mountain on the land below.
Kilani returned with the bundle of cloth and rope that had been lying by the top of the rope ladder. She unraveled the bundle and handed James two rope ends.
“What is your name, boy?”
“James.”
Kilani hesitated a moment, giving James the impression she knew something.
“Very well, James. Trust in your newfound strength for I’ve never seen its equal in one so new to this place. Follow me.”
Holding two ends of rope in her hand, she stepped to the edge. He moved beside her dragging the canvas in a U-shape between them.
“We go together.”
He nodded. James crouched, mimicking Kilani. She let out a yell and jumped from the edge. Before his brain could react to the madness his legs flung his body forward off the edge of the mountain. For several seconds, James was certain they would fall to their deaths. Then his rope, which he had a white-knuckled grip on, grew taut. He looked up and saw that the fabric had billowed over their heads. Their descent slowed, but only for several seconds as he and Kilani drifted together.
She looked him calmly in the eyes and whispered into his ear, “Do you trust me?”
“Yes,” he replied.
“Let go.”
James let go without hesitation. He had put his life in her hands more times in the past day than he cared to remember. The ropes shot from his grip and together they fell in an embrace. Her long body pulled him in tightly as they approached the ground. Beneath them James could see the lake. He tried to ready himself for what could only be a violent impact. He felt neither water nor land nor even a jolt as they came to a stop. Kilani relaxed her grip and James stood on the soggy ground. They were surrounded by darkness.