James nodded and moved off in the opposite direction. The logic of this approach was sound, but it left much room for error, which made James uncomfortable. He began to circle the stone spire, but he stopped exactly halfway between the two columns of writing and began moving toward the curtain of water opposite his position. He looked over his shoulder repeatedly to confirm he was maintaining the proper heading. When he reached the water, he marveled at its beauty as it shimmered in its own luminescence.
Cautiously, he extended his hand into the water. His fingers contacted the wall behind before his entire hand was through the stream. He placed his hand flat against it and began walking, letting his fingers feel in hopes of finding an opening. James looked across the cavern to see if he could spot Kilani. The tower between them obstructed his view.
“Did you find it?” he called, knowing despite the size of the cavern, sound traveled well.
No reply. James kept moving along the circular wall, his hand feeling for an opening. He called out again, this time much louder. No reply. James was about to break away from the wall and go looking for Kilani when he felt the beginning of a depression in the stone behind the curtain of water. He slid his hand along the depression until his entire arm was engulfed. The opening they had come through was a clean-cut entry into the cavern. This was more of a gradual tapering away from the water curtain.
He looked around for anything he could use to mark the depression. Neither displaced stone nor wayward debris littered the cavern floor. Allowing his concern for Kilani to override his desire to mark the possible exit, he pulled his hand from the wall and headed across the cavern. As he approached the stone tower the strange glyphs etched into the black granite reminded him once again of the black metal key, and he reached for it in his satchel.
James had an overwhelming desire to touch the spire, which looked strangely familiar. His mind lost all focus. His arm lifted and reached his hand toward it, guided by not his body but the tower itself. James could feel an energy radiating from the stone as he drew nearer. His hand pressed this energy. Like an invisible membrane, it gave but did not break. James pushed harder until he penetrated the membrane. As he moved his hand through, James could feel the barrier wrapping his wrist. As his arm stretched closer to the spire, the invisible barrier moved up his forearm like a sleeve.
Deep inside his mind a futile cry attempted to prevent contact, reminding James of Luno’s instructions. The draw of the tower was too strong. James’s fingers barley contacted the stone when a massive surge of energy pulled him forward until his palm lay flat against it. His vision went white. James could feel his mind with more clarity than ever before. He could feel it connecting with his body. He could feel it connecting with his surroundings, and he could feel it connecting with the tower. Then everything went black.
Kilani watched James step toward the tower and stare at the inscriptions. By chance or fate or the will of The Never, she had decided to see if he had discovered the exit, having had no luck herself. They must have passed each other on opposite sides of the tower. When she doubled back, he was there. The instant his hand lifted toward the spire, she began to panic. She shouted his name as he ran toward him. As she reached him she could hear muttering. Some of the words sounded familiar, but most she’d never heard before. She shouted again and reached out to him. A force stopped her from touching him. A barrier just inches from his body. She shouted his name again. He did not reply but continued to mutter in the strange language.
His eyelids fluttered but remained closed. His lips moved impossibly fast but otherwise his body remained still. He wore an expression not of fear but almost… pleasure. Kilani tried to step between James’s body and the tower, but the same invisible barrier that surrounded his body extended outward to the tower preventing her. She pulled her dagger from its sheath and drove it into the barrier. The blade snapped and a jolt of pain shot up her arm and down her spine, sending her to the ground. Slowly, she got to her feet. She looked around for anything she could use to break him free. There was nothing. She cursed the place. Her magical powers were limited here unlike back home where she could think of at least a dozen incantations that would break the barrier.
Growing increasingly frustrated, Kilani decided to try the only thing she could think of. She ran to the curtain of water and said, “ Poikelo.”
A gust of wind rushed from her hands and blew through the curtain of water, refracting off the wall as it carried the water with it speeding toward the tower and James.
The force of the impact was incredible. At first, Kilani feared she had crushed him. She ran back to the center of the cavern as the water settled on the floor. As she drew closer, her heart sunk. He still stood in the same position and was looking the same direction, yet something was different. His hand was at his side. Not only that, but he was dripping wet. She ran, bare feet slapping against the wet stone. He turned to her as she approached.
“Do I smell that bad?” he asked.
“Like rubbish,” she said with a smile, taking him in her arms.
“What happened to you?” she asked.
“It spoke to me,” he said.
“What did, the tower?” Kilani asked.
“The castle,” James replied.
“How?”
“The towers and the castle are one,” said James.
“What did it say?”
“Everything.”
— 23 -
September 1895, Scotland
Shadows fell on the expansive flatlands in front of the castle. Dug into the largest of the mountains, the castle had a clear view of the valley. It was a stronghold in its day. A great battle had laid waste to the outer bailey wall leaving sections of the battlements in crumbles on the ground. Most of the towers between battlements remained standing, giving James a clear view of any approaching visitors.
Incantations had been cast upon the entire valley. They were far more complex than anything even his mother could comprehend. When he’d asked who had created this place, she’d ignored his question. They had been here once before when he was much younger, but he remembered very little of his previous visit.
The sun ignited the peaks in a blaze of orange light as it descended behind the mountains. James could see their horses grazing beside the stable in the distance. Incantations prohibited anyone to transport or even approach on horseback; on foot was the only way one could get close. The hills stretched around the valley like an incomplete wreath with one section at the far end open to allow passage. The long shadows from the hills made it difficult to see anything at their bases at sunset, which despite the enchantments worried his mother.
The wind was strong as it blew across the tower but it was not the biting air that would be coming down from the north in the next few weeks. James wrapped twine around one end of a piece of black cloth and fastened it to a rotting pole he had found in the stable. He propped up the pole with several stones he found strewn about the top of the tower. His makeshift flag flapped loudly in the wind as he descended the stone spiral stairs.
James crossed the outer bailey, careful to avoid the rubble of the spilled walls behind him. He crossed under the arched second portcullis, imagining what the battle had been like. A glint of metal caught his eye on the ground.