Sanctuary

  *****

  “Benji,” Tyler was calling to him, “Dude, wake up!”

  “Come on, Benji!” Benji cracked his eyelids groggily. Mom sat next to him on the bed. She shook his shoulder. “Time to wake up, it’s your birthday!” Mom was smiling down at him. “Happy Birthday!” she exclaimed excitedly when she saw his opened eyes.

  Mom! The thought propelled him up to a sudden sitting position. He gazed in stunned wonder at the woman sitting on his bed. A sudden shaft of light illuminated her, as if a cloud had been blocking the sun. Not Mom. Sarah.

  Sarah was smiling at him and sitting on his bedside. Tyler was on the opposite side. They each held a brightly wrapped package. “Finally awake, sleeping beauty?” Tyler ribbed him.

  Benji grunted. He didn’t trust his voice. He rubbed his eyes and hoped the gesture looked sleepy, not weepy. For a second, his world was right again. Mom was sitting there, smiling and loving and alive. But it wasn’t Mom. It was just his sister. He wished Sarah didn’t look so much like Mom. Hatefully, he wished she was gone. He’d rather be minus a sister than minus a mother.

  At the moment, Sarah was holding out a thick, rectangular present, tied with blue and green string. “Happy Birthday,” she said again. “Come on, open it.” She acted like nothing was wrong. Benji knew differently and resented her smiling voice.

  “Mmm . . . ” Benji mumbled. He still felt disoriented. He grabbed at the shiny parcel. “What is it?” he asked sharply. He was aware of the irritation present in his voice. He also didn’t care.

  “Duh,” Tyler said, “you have to open it to find out.” His siblings were both grinning at him happily. What was there to be happy about? Benji managed to smile back, though. He didn’t want either of them to know how he felt. How could they possibly understand?

  Hastily, Benji ripped open the present. Beneath the paper was a large leather book with an embossed title. In golden calligraphy it read, The Chronicled Adventures of Benjamin Andrew Rose. He flipped the book open to find blank lined pages inside. “A journal?” He looked up at his sister in confusion.

  She nodded. “Our lives are getting pretty interesting,” she said. “Who knows? Maybe one day you’ll do fantastic things and that book could end up in a sanctuary Keeper’s library.”

  “It should be titled,” Tyler interrupted, “1001 Ways for Benji Rose to get into Trouble!” Tyler laughed and Sarah smiled with mirth. Benji didn’t think it was that funny. He muttered a thank you with as much enthusiasm as he could reasonably muster and set the journal aside.

  Tyler shoved a big shoebox shaped present into Benji’s lap. “This one should help with that,” he said. Help with what? Benji wondered as he tore off the shiny paper.

  Benji found an actual shoebox beneath the covering. He lifted the box lid and discovered an assortment of outdoor gear inside. There was a hunting knife, a flat and clear compass, a canteen, and a pair of binoculars. “Cool,” he couldn’t keep the approving remark back as he examined the broad knife, sliding it swiftly out of the sheath. He flicked it so that light bounced off the blade.

  “Great!” Tyler clapped Benji on the back. He almost dropped the knife in surprise and glared up at his brother. “Since you like them, we don’t have to sing happy birthday.”

  Benji laughed awkwardly. “No thanks,” he said. “I think we can skip that for now.” Sarah leaned forward for a hug, but Benji jumped off the bed to avoid her. He squeezed her shoulder instead. Both his siblings wished him a happy birthday again before they went down to breakfast.

  Benji frowned at the door after they left. He could admit the gifts were nice. Even the journal was surprisingly thoughtful. He set the shoebox and journal on his desk. But the wake-up call left him disturbed. He felt like crying or yelling or both. He was fourteen today. A fourteen year old with no mother. There was vacant part of him that ached like a sore tooth.

  It seemed so real, so normal! Mom was there, waking him up to wish him happy birthday. Just like Mom was supposed to. Benji never had a birthday without his mother. This was the first. He remembered neither Tyler nor Sarah celebrated their birthdays last fall. Benji was beginning to regret celebrating his.

  He stared out the window at the bright morning. The last day of June dawned sunny and warm. A perverse part of him wished it hadn’t. It should be raining and miserable. Exactly how he felt.

  A knock sounded on his door as he was getting dressed. “Come in,” he called unenthusiastically. It was Marvin. “Morning,” he halfheartedly greeted the genie. “Shouldn’t you be taking orders from the General, already?” Marvin was practically Aunt Rachel’s new slave. He actually proved to be a great cook and, for some reason, Benji’s sparkly blue friend didn’t mind the chores.

  Marvin smiled. “I haven’t actually reported for duty, yet,” he said. He stepped into the room bringing a trio of stacked silver boxes from behind his back. “Your sister told me it was your birthday. She said I should find you a present.” He held out the boxes. “I found these while I was cleaning out a downstairs closet and I thought they would do.”

  Benji took the proffered boxes, noting the genie’s nervous demeanor. “What are they?” Benji asked him. He examined the boxes curiously. They were covered in traces of dust, but seemed fairly new. None of the three had a label.

  “Oops,” Marvin stammered. If he wasn’t blue, he might have blushed. “Here, let me show you.” He took the top box and opened it, drawing out a sheet of paper. It unfolded to show a set of blueprints and instructions. “They’re models,” Marvin told him holding up the paper. “Not cars or planes, but I thought they might be what you call ‘cool.’”

  The figure depicted in the drawing was a triangular flying saucer with a single antennae-like eye. It looked the alien ships from the old War of the Worlds movie. “This is great,” Benji told his friend, and he meant it. Marvin looked relieved. “Now I can have an invasion on my ceiling,” he chuckled sardonically and indicated the numerous models hanging overhead.

  “If I could grant wishes,” Marvin said sheepishly, “I could have gotten you something really ‘cool.’”

  “This is great, Marvin,” Benji tried to reassure his friend. Marvin shrugged. “Really, these are awesome,” he tried to be more convincing. “I’ve never seen models of spaceships or aliens before.”

  “Well…, Happy Birthday!” Marvin practically yelled the salutation. “Aren’t I supposed to sing to you or something?”

  “Totally unnecessary.” Benji waved his hands in a negative motion. “Just the present is enough.” Smiling in relief, Marvin nodded gratefully. Benji thanked the genie for the gift and sent him out of the room. He needed a moment to himself.

  Benji knew exactly what he would wish for if Marvin was a real genie. Even then, it probably wouldn’t come true, though. Marvin told him genies could bring back a dead body, like creating a zombie, but they couldn’t retrieve souls. If he could wish his mother back to life, he’d like to have all of her back, not just the shell of her body.

  Benji stacked the silver boxes on his desk next to his other presents. He tried to rally a show of zeal for the day ahead. It was hard, though. Even if he hadn’t woken up and mistaken Sarah for Mom, he’d still miss her today. It was only a few weeks after his last birthday that she died. One moment, his life was fine. Then, in a split second, it felt like life was over. And no one understood. Everyone said he would heal after a while. In time things would get better. Time had done nothing for Benji.

  Neither his anger nor his sadness diminished. He found he could put the feelings away for a little while, like locking them in a box, but the box never stayed closed for long. Even after he learned about the menagerie of fantastical creatures surrounding him, he still felt the loss. He was mad, angry to a point that sometimes scared him. Especially now he knew about magic. Magic might have saved Mom. He didn’t know how, but surely if genies, centaurs and elves existed, so did a way to save his mom. Or bring her back.

  He flipped through the lar
ge handbook Grandpa had given him. Benji went through its pages every night in hopes of finding something, anything, that could resurrect Mom. Or at least explain why she was gone, maybe even how to communicate with her. So far, he hadn’t found anything, but it was a big book. He could have missed something.

  Benji went down to breakfast pensively, but smiled at the group around the table as if he was thrilled to be fourteen today. Aunt Rachel made chocolate chip pancakes in his honor. They were deliciously sweet and warm. Benji stuffed himself full of the treat amid repeated “Happy Birthday’s”. Chewing gave him the opportunity to rally his fake excitement.

  After finishing two stacks of pancakes, Benji lethargically sauntered out to the barn. David and Adam told him happy birthday, but if he hoped for a reprieve from his chores (which he did) he was quickly informed otherwise. There was equipment to clean, cows to feed, horses to groom. It was so normal Benji almost forgot it really was his birthday.

  Sylvie made chicken salad sandwiches for lunch. Benji ate them greedily amid many more birthday wishes. Aunt Rachel said everyone was coming to dinner that evening to celebrate and he’d get his presents then. Grandpa gave him a wink, as if they shared a secret, although Benji couldn’t think what it might be. Unfortunately, because of the dinner, Grandpa decided that he should give them their daily dose of magic 101 during lunch. Usually he did it after dinner.

  Benji was slightly discouraged to find that when Grandpa told them to study, he was quite serious. Every evening, he held an informal class. Sometimes he went over creatures or cultures. Sometimes history. Jessie had to sit through it too, though a lot of Grandpa’s lectures were old news for her. Benji only partially minded. Some of the stuff Grandpa told them was really interesting. He hoped to stumble onto important information eventually. Knowledge that wasn’t a lot of boring facts, but something useful.

  Today, Grandpa cleared his throat in a deep rumble. The whole assembly gave him their attention, though Benji suspected only he, Sarah, and Tyler really needed too. The rest were well acquainted with the sanctuary and it’s unusual residents.

  “This should be interesting enough for Benji’s birthday,” he began and winked at Benji. He brought out a book from underneath his chair and turned it around to display a sketch of a tall man with lightening flashing around him. “This is an Immortal,” he said tapping the illustrated page. He said Immortal as if had a distinct capital “I”. “If you think he looks god-like, you’re on to something.”

  “That’s God?” Benji snorted. In his opinion, the sketched man looked rather puny.

  Grandpa shook his head. “Not with a capital ‘G’,” he answered. “Not even with a lowercase ‘g’ for that matter.” Benji raised his eyebrows in silent question. “Though this is a very powerful being,” the old man informed them. Grandpa closed the book and set it aside.

  “I don’t think I quite understand what you mean,” Sarah interjected, “except that they can’t die and they’re not human.”

  “That’s the tricky part,” Grandpa replied. He acted like he might give Sarah a gold star for her input. Benji folded his arms and prepared to be bored. “No one is quite sure what they are or how they came to be.”

  “Marvin said Djinn’s were Immortals that gathered power and mastered creation,” Benji chimed in. He wasn’t nearly as clueless as everyone assumed. In fact, thanks to his nightly research, he probably knew more about the magical world than either of his siblings.

  “That’s true,” Grandpa conceded. “Immortals are humanoid beings that have been around since the beginning, whenever that was. They are inherently magical and classify themselves according to interest and ability, rather than race.” Grandpa’s lecturing tone combined with Benji’s full stomach made him sleepy. “The most common type pursue the manipulation and transfiguration of nature. What we know as Alchemy.”

  “Alchemy?” Tyler asked. “You mean changing lumps of coal into gold?”

  Grandpa nodded. “Alchemy is more than transforming the everyday into gold, but that’s the gist of the idea.” Grandpa folded his hands on top of the table in a familiar gesture. “There are also Wizards, Necromancers, and Mages,” he explained.

  Benji’s boredom dissipated quickly. His attention focused on one word, but instead of asking the question he wanted to, he asked about Wizards instead. It wouldn’t be wise to let anyone know what he was thinking.

  Jessie, not Grandpa, promptly answered him. “Wizards learn to replace one type of energy with another to get a certain result,” she said, speaking as if she were reciting a memorized definition. On reflection, Benji figured that was probably exactly what she was doing.

  Grandpa stepped in to explain further. “Like turning a rock into a pocket watch. The energy from the rock is replaced with the energy of a watch. Or the energy from words and feeling is replaced with the energy of an action or product.”

  “So basically they cast spells?” Benji clarified.

  “Yes,” Grandpa answered. “Unfortunately, Immortals tend to be jealous, petty and impulsive. Their long lives and harsh experiences often cause them to go mad. They have no real government, but band together occasionally in small communities or enclaves of learning.”

  “So,” Sarah said thoughtfully, “when you said god-like, you meant the old pantheons. Like the Greek gods or other figures of mythology.”

  “Correct,” Grandpa approved. Benji rolled his eyes. Another gold star for his sister. “Often, the insane or exiled Immortals end up in sanctuaries. There are eight Immortals currently in Black Rock.”

  “So what did they do to wind up here?” Tyler wanted to know. Benji was quietly glad his brother asked. He was insanely curious. The large tome Grandpa gave him didn’t mention Immortals at all.

  “Most of them aren’t dangerous,” Grandpa said. “A few aren’t exactly sane anymore and there are others branded as too dangerous to exist in cohesion with the rest of the world. Some are in a self-imposed exile.”

  “Why would they do that?” wondered Tyler.

  “There are a very few Immortals who study the oldest of magics,” Grandpa informed them. “Djinns study creation and Mages study the patterns of the universe. Members in each of these groups tend to spend millennia in solitude with their studies. Sanctuaries provide security while they do so.”

  Benji surreptitiously tried to get a look at the book Grandpa laid on the table. It was thick, but actually appeared fairly new. Like many other books Grandpa owned, this one was without a title.

  “There’s a Djinn that lives on an island in the farthest western lake,” Adam put in gesturing westward.

  Marvin, who was sitting silently at the table not eating, interrupted excitedly. “Do you think the Djinn would help me?”

  “I don’t know,” Grandpa said sadly. “He is in seclusion here. Other than a yearly visit to check on him, I am bound by the sanctuary laws not to disturb him or ask for favors. It was a specific condition on his admittance into the sanctuary.”

  Marvin’s blue face deflated. The guy really couldn’t catch a break, Benji thought. It was bad enough having to look like the original progenitor of nerds everywhere. Marvin’s lack of ability made him all the more impotent in the genie department.

  “The ones you really have to watch out for,” Jessie inserted, “are Leoben and Horaque.”

  “Why?” Tyler asked. “What do they do?”

  Grandpa clarified Jessie’s statement for them. “Leoben is a Wizard and relatively harmless,” he said “but he’s a religious zealot. He worships an ancient and bloodthirsty figure called Magog.”

  “Like Baät?” Sarah looked curious. “The god of the centaurs,” she explained after Benji and Tyler both looked questioningly at her.

  “That’s similar, yes,” Grandpa admitted. “But there is no actual reference to a Baät except in centaur lore. Magog and his counterpart Gog are referenced in many texts, usually in a context of darkness.” Grandpa’s expression became serious. “Leoben developed a habit of t
rying to sacrifice humans to his god. He could not coexist with humanity anymore and was put here by Immortals more powerful than he.”

  “So what’s the other one’s deal? Horaque?” Benji demanded.

  “Horaque is another Wizard with an unfortunate predilection for turning everyone he meets into a swan or a toad,” explained Grandpa with a less serious demeanor. “You can see how that would become problematic.”

  “I take it he doesn’t wander around free?” Benji’s tone was sardonic. Grandpa assured them he didn’t. Horaque was limited to a cave near a lake.

  “What about the others?” Sarah reminded them Grandpa said there were eight Immortals and so far they only learned of three.

  “They’re not important,” Grandpa dismissed the inquiry. “The others are extremely limited in their movements. We don’t need to worry about them for now.”

  “Yes,” Aunt Rachel agreed. “I think that’s enough of a lesson for today,” she said firmly and began gathering dirty dishes. “It’s Benji’s birthday, after all.”

  With everyone in agreement, the table was cleared and the company set off in separate directions. Benji, however, stayed at the table after the others left. Immortals were by far the most powerful thing Grandpa told them about to date. And there was one type Grandpa didn’t explain: Necromancers. Any kid with a video game console or a computer could tell you what that was. Necromancers could bring back the dead.

  Benji fingered the book on the table Grandpa left behind. Before he could lose his nerve, he swiped it and tucked into the back of his pants. He made it to his bedroom, hiding the book quickly under his mattress. No one stopped him, but Benji decided he would wait until this evening to peruse the volume. It was his birthday. He was supposed to be happy and clamoring for mischief. He went downstairs with a steadily cheerful façade covering his more serious thoughts.

  Dinner was slightly more festive than lunch. Benji wasn’t expecting much and was surprised to find the middle of the dining table stacked with a few gifts. Tonight’s tableware was a nice set of gilt edged china and matching silverware. It vaguely reminded him of his first meal at the sanctuary. Despite the fancy place settings, Uncle Matt and David were grilling hamburgers outside by the pool and Aunt Rachel was making French fries in the kitchen. It wasn’t his favorite food or anything, but he didn’t object.

  The Landys ate with them tonight. The dining room, filled with people, was stuffy and chaotic. Everyone was talking at once, asking Benji how it felt to be fourteen (the same as thirteen) and what he thought about starting high school in the fall (he was ambivalent).

  Once the burgers and fries were mostly devoured, Grandpa stood up and, to most everyone’s chagrin, initiated the happy birthday song. Benji endured it like any fourteen-year-old would: with red cheeks and a self-conscious grimace that might pass for a smile if no one looked too closely. When the singing was blessedly over, Marvin presented Benji with a round chocolate frosted cake, adorned with fourteen colorfully striped candles. Elaborately scrolled white icing read Happy Birthday Benji! Ceremoniously, Grandpa lit the candles.

  “Make a wish, Benji!” Kimmy urged. The l ittle girl clapped her hands excitedly.

  “Yeah,” Tyler added encouragingly, “Blow out the candles already!”

  Benji took a deep breath and closed his eyes. He knew his wish intimately. He woke up with it screaming inside his brain every morning and went to sleep with it whispering on his breath.

  Benji opened eyes and blew, making sure that all fourteen candles were extinguished. In the gray haze of smoke spiraling up over the cake, he saw Mom sitting across from him, clapping her hands with a proud smile.

  Marvin moved the cake away. Through the clearing air, he watched as Sarah laughed and smiled on the other side of the table. His mother wasn’t there and never had been.

  Benji tried to be pleased with his presents. Adam and his family gave him a huge Swiss army knife. It came with a little book listing all its multiple uses. Aunt Rachel and Uncle Matt gave him various clothes more suited to the Colorado climate and terrain than anything he already owned. Jessie presented him with a movie pass to the Cineplex in Natalie. He opened Grandpa’s present last.

  The shiny balloon covered paper concealed a blue and silver chess board. The pieces were carved in the image of dragons. A chess set? Benji liked the gift, but it was a reminder of how disappointing life could be. What kind of life was it when a kid found out dragons existed only to learn they were boring, pontificating politicians? Nevertheless, he thanked everyone profusely and smiled a large aching smile.

  He was rescued from all the ‘goodbyes’ and ‘thank yous’ by a phone call. In the kitchen, he grabbed the phone Uncle Matt held out for him. Benji watched him leave before speaking into the receiver. “Hello?”

  “Benjamin!” Grandpa James’ low booming voice declared. “Happy Birthday!”

  “Yes,” Grandma Shirley was on the line, too. “Happy Birthday, darling.”

  Their slow southern voices seemed slightly alien after all of his time amidst the twang of Colorado. “Grandpa James, Grandma Shirley,” he addressed them, attempting a cheerful tone. “I’m glad you called.”

  “Now how could we miss talking to our grandson on his birthday?” Grandma Shirley laughed in her smooth voice.

  “Fourteen is a big turning point for a man,” Grandpa James said. “You’ll be in high school come fall and nearly grown.”

  “I guess,” Benji said noncommittally. “I really miss you guys.” He should have been starting school in Mobile, not in Natalie. The town otherwise known as Nothing, Colorado.

  “We miss you too, honey,” Grandma Shirley said, “but I’m sure living on a farm is plenty of fun and keeps you busy.”

  “You’ll get hearty and tough out there in the West,” Grandpa James added. As if Benji had been sucked into a spaghetti western instead of abandoned to strangers across the country. His resentment threatened to overwhelm him, but he choked it back. He didn’t think his grandparents would take his side. After all, they hadn’t wanted to take care of Benji or his siblings in the first place.

  “Your Uncle Steve sent you a card.” Grandma Shirley changed the subject. “I’m sure he put some money in it. Our birthday card should get to you in a day or two if it hasn’t already.”

  “I haven’t gotten anything, yet,” Benji told her, “but we get our mail late sometimes.”

  “Well, it’ll arrive shortly then,” Grandma Shirley assured him. “Have you heard from your father? I’m sure he misses you kids terribly.”

  “Not, yet,” Benji answered. He didn’t think Dad would call. He suspected that his father had forgotten today’s significance.

  “Oh, well,” Grandpa James sounded gruff. “He’ll call when he gets a chance.” Doubtful, Benji thought. “We just wanted to let you know we love you and hope you have a good birthday.”

  “Thanks,” Benji said. Grandma Shirley gave her love and told him to tell Tyler and Sarah they were loved and missed, too, before ending the connection. Benji relayed their message when he went back to the dining room.

  It was getting late, nearly ten-thirty, when everyone finally disbanded. Benji gathered up his few gifts and went to bed with a chorus of good wishes sounding off behind him. He dumped his loot on the bed and surveyed the room. The presents from Tyler, Sarah, and Marvin were still on his desk, piled haphazardly. His room was dark and quiet. He missed having Marvin there all the time.

  Benji clicked on his bedside lamp and reached beneath the mattress. He tugged out the heavy book he stole this afternoon and sat down on his bed. Grandpa wasn’t yet aware it was missing. That suited Benji fine. He knew his grandfather would object to his purpose.

  Benji flipped through the book until he found the drawing Grandpa showed them at lunch. It marked the beginning of a section on Immortals worshipped as gods. That wasn’t what Benji needed. He tried the back pages in hopes of finding an index and was in luck. A very long alphabetized list covered the last
thirty pages of the book. Benji scanned the listings under “N” for Necromancy. He found the corresponding page number and hastily located the correct passage.

  Necromancy: the Immortal study of the dead, read the page heading. This was exactly what Benji was looking for! He read on quickly. Necromancers cultivate relationships with the beyond. These practitioners can enter into the realm of the afterlife in body, mind, and soul. The strongest Necromancers can even bring souls out of the beyond or send living souls to death. Benji’s palms began to sweat with excitement. Finally, he was learning something useful. He scanned the rest of the section, but was disappointed to find it was incredibly unspecific.

  The last short paragraph in the chapter was cryptic and unhelpful. Use of their own souls as power sources leaves a Necromancer weak. The potential for their own corruption is great. Access to the beyond is rarely attained without sacrifice. Necromancy is generally done with great secrecy and often has a dark purpose. Was that the reason for so little information contained in the chapter? It was secret? Benji felt his excitement ebb into disappointment.

  He had to find out more. Benji turned back to the index in frustration, methodically going down the listings. He was surprised to find a familiar name within the Bs:

  Black Rock Sanctuary,

  SEE: Three Sisters

  Curiously he found the indicated listing and paged over to the appropriate chapter. It appeared to be a story.

  Three Immortal sisters, Thana, Vidan, and Ceice, exemplify the need for Immortals to keep their power in check, the narrative began. Once potent Necromancers, they feel victim to the darker urges of their craft. Each fell in love with the same man, an old and prominent Immortal. How clichéd, Benji thought, a bunch of women fighting over a guy. This was the reason guys had that “bros before hoes” rule. He shook his head disdainfully as he read further. Ruthlessly, the sisters pursued their quarry. They undermined each other at every turn, hoping to make their competition give up in frustration.

  Benji skipped over an account of exactly what the sisters did to each other. He continued reading towards the bottom of the page. The Immortal in question rejected all three sisters. Benji snorted. Go figure. In their feud, contact between the sisters was broken and, before discovering their rejection was the result of another, they each blamed their siblings. Thana believed she had been rejected in favor of Ceice, Ceice rejected in favor of Vidan, and Vidan thought the Immortal had chosen Thana. In a rage, the sisters called upon a dark power and issued a curse on the object of their hatred and jealousy.

  The next page described each sister’s curse and Benji read on eagerly. Thana was cursed with the sight of death. She bears witness to the death of each and every creature in this plane of existence.

  Ceice’s curse was of silence and sound. Her voice was rendered silent but her hearing made painfully acute.

  Vidan was cursed with a hunger of the body and spirit. She can touch nothing without stealing its life-force. Food rots in her hand, but she must eat regardless to appease her endless appetite.

  Ugh! She ate rotten food? That was just gross, thought Benji. The other two curses didn’t sound so bad to him, but that last one was disgusting. What did these three have to do with the sanctuary, though? Benji scanned the text looking for a clue. He found it near the end of the chapter.

  According to the book, the sisters became vengeful and unruly. Madness overcame them and each grew to be a danger to society. As a solution, they were exiled to a sanctuary. This sanctuary, to be precise: Black Rock. Each was given a domain and confined to a single mountain.

  They were here! There were three Necromancers living inside the sanctuary. Benji could hardly believe it. Would they know how to bring his mom back? Would they tell him? How could he find them? Benji let the book slide from his lap as he stood, letting his thoughts rush around in his head.

  He had begun to forget things. He forgot the way Mom smelled, he couldn’t quite recall the sound of her voice, he tried in vain to hold on to memories of her smile. What good was knowing about magic if you couldn’t do extraordinary things? There were things out in the world, powerful beings, that were magic. Some of those beings could even raise the dead.

  At his desk, Benji picked up the journal Sarah gave him: The Chronicled Adventures of Benjamin Andrew Rose. Lifting the journal dislodged Tyler’s shoe box. Both the canteen and transparent compass tumbled out. The compass dropped with muffled thump onto his map of the sanctuary. One end of the clear rectangle was a magnifying glass. It currently enlarged a mountain, one of three that were smashed together, and a little red dot. Benji glanced between the book and the map on his desk.

  The three mountains were boldly labeled, Three Sisters Mountains. On each mountain, the red dot was given a name: Thana, Vidan, and Ceice. The dot enlarged by his compass was Thana’s. Benji had seen the mountains before, both outside in the distance and on the map. He looked at the bright red signifier with new eyes; eyes wide with fear and excitement.

  Benji stared resolutely at the mountain on the map. He cleared off his desk, leaving the map bare. He hardly cared that Marvin’s models were knocked to the floor with a crash. Benji dropped the journal and retrieved a black marker from a desk drawer.

  It might take a day or two, especially since he wouldn’t be riding a horse, but he could make it. He’d have to go the long way around a lake to avoid a few hazards, but it was possible. Steadily, Benji drew a curving route from the manor to the farthest of the three mountains. After circling the dot marking Thana’s residence, Benji started to pack.

  *****

  Chapter 23: Missing