The Magi

Elijah fell asleep on the ride back. When he eventually woke up, he found himself lying comfortably in the Roddick house late Saturday morning. Even though he only slept the night, Elijah felt like it had been months. His frantic escape from Malpetra seemed like a distant memory now as he stared at the sunlit walls of the room. He was fully awake, but he stayed in the bed for another hour just listening to the commotion outside the bedroom door. It was after breakfast, and Mrs. Roddick was helping the girls paint pictures of their favorite season. Lizzy said she liked summer the best, but from what Elijah heard, it sounded like she kept painting parts from all four seasons and also copied Tirzah, who did not appreciate it.

“Mommy, make her stop copying,” Tirzah pleaded. “Besides, it doesn’t snow in the summer. You’re doing it all wrong.”

“But I like the snow the best,” said Lizzy.

“Then you should have chosen to paint winter,” Tirzah corrected.

“But I like the sun the best too. And the leaves.”

“You can’t like all those things the best!”

“Why not?”

Elijah chuckled to himself hearing the girls in the next room. He finally decided to get out of bed and venture into the other rooms. His body ached all over, and he was hungry, but more than that, he was unbelievably thirsty! He wanted to just stick his head inside a river and drink until his stomach sloshed with water.

“Oh, good heavens!” said Mrs. Roddick when Elijah finally decided to emerge. She ran up to him and wrapped her arms around him. Elijah thought he could hear Mrs. Roddick fight back tears as she hugged him, but when she let go and faced him, she showed no signs of crying. “Now don’t you think just because you got back safely that that excuses you from what you did!” she said suddenly stern, waving a finger at him. Elijah looked at the wall where he had taken the weapons. The sword and shield were back hanging where they were before.

“I hope you can forgive me, Mrs. Roddick,” Elijah apologized. “I’m sorry for taking the weapons without asking.”

Mrs. Roddick huffed. “I could care less about that! It’s you I care about. Glen and I were worried sick when we heard what you had done!”

Master Roddick entered the house during their conversation and looked at Mrs. Roddick while she scolded Elijah.

“Let’s not make him feel any worse about anything,” said Roddick. “What’s done is done."

“Just as long as he doesn’t think he can do it again,” she said pointing her finger back at Elijah as she walked him into the kitchen.

“Let’s just enjoy what we have now and celebrate the return of loved ones, shall we?” Roddick stated.

“Speaking of,” Mrs. Roddick piped in, handing Elijah a cup of water, which he inhaled. “Some of your friends came by to see you not too long ago while you were sleeping comatose.” Another cup inhaled. “I told them I didn’t know when you’d be available, so they said for me to send you to the Maybury’s place when you were up.” Elijah lit up. There was so much to talk about with his friends!

“I can walk you over there once you’ve finished,” Master Roddick said watching Elijah finish up one plate of food and then ask for doubles, which Mrs. Roddick gladly obliged. With a mouthful of sweet sausage, Elijah answered Mr. Roddick with a nod and then dove back into his second helping, forgetting all sense of civility and manners. After he had his fill, Elijah sat back in his chair, feeling rather bloated.

“Oh, I almost forgot,” Master Roddick said. “Olivia wants to see you kids at the barracks when you return on Monday.”

“For what?” Elijah asked.

“Could be lots of things. I ran into her at the infirmary and she just mentioned she wanted to see you.”

“The infirmary?”

“Yeah. That’s where Phinneas and your uncle are. I’m afraid spending six months in a Maliphist prison isn’t exactly the best place to keep good health.”

“Will I be able to see him?”

“I would imagine so. But I would give him a little while to rest. Maybe we’ll go tomorrow.”

Elijah understood, but he wanted to talk to his uncle right away. He was finally going to get some of the answers to his questions about his parents, about his past, about the night his uncle was taken. Having to wait would be hard.

When they reached the Maybury house, Elijah could hear a commotion inside. It sounded like cheerful laughter. Sure enough, when Mr. Maybury opened the door, Elijah was practically mauled by five teenagers, all bursting at the seams to visit with their friend and ask all sorts of questions. As Master Roddick started to leave, Mr. Maybury stopped him.

“Why don’t you come in and visit, Glen?” he asked. “We have room.” Roddick came in, thanked Mr. Maybury gratefully, and they both helped themselves to a cup of cinnamon cider in the other room.

Elijah’s visit was like a reunion, though they had all just seen each other days ago. Hannah and Adam had been filled in on most of the story already. Isaac, who had been recovering in the infirmary, needed even more information since he was mostly unconscious during the whole ordeal. Becca and Paul were the most eager to hear Elijah’s story after he was taken by the guard into Malpetra.

“I have to be honest,” said Paul. “I thought we were all done for as soon as you ran into that guard. What happened?” The others sat on the edge of their seat, like small children hearing a tall tale. Elijah walked them through everything from talking with the warden to his intense run through the streets of Malpetra and out of the canyon. Their eyes and heads sank a little when Elijah told them about Samuel staying with the Maliphists. Adam seemed to take this the hardest, though he didn’t speak a word.

“So, we’re never going to see him again?” Hannah asked sadly.

“I guess not,” said Elijah. “He said he wants to stay.”

“They’d never let him out anyway, even if he did want to go,” said Paul morosely. “What a stupid decision. He has no idea who those people are.” Everyone looked uncomfortably at Becca when Paul said that, but she didn’t seem to be offended.

Elijah finished his story talking about the battle between Olivia, Roddick, Uncle Stan, and the three Maliphists. Having never seen the elements used in battle before, everyone was again back on the edge of their seats as Elijah recounted everything he was able to see from the fight. After he was finished, and the other friends had their questions answered, Elijah turned to Paul and Becca.

“So, how did you guys get out of the prison anyway?” he asked.

“We almost didn’t,” said Paul. “It was taking so long to find Phinneas, and as soon as you were captured, we realized we wouldn’t be able to recognize your uncle since we never met him. We were going to leave, but then we got caught.”

Elijah shook his head, stunned. “You were caught?” he asked loudly. Paul and Becca looked at each other again.

“Sort of,” Becca said slowly. “My dad had friends who worked as prison guards when he used to be a guard himself. Some of them still work there. Some of them still remember him and are—like him.”

“What do you mean ‘like’ him?” Elijah asked.

“I mean—they are against the rule of Cain. They don’t agree with his attempt to gain total control of Malpetra like he’s doing. Remember how I told you my family left because we were afraid of Luther Cain?” Becca asked. Elijah nodded trying to piece together Becca’s narration. “Well, there are some who still believe the way my father believed, but they’re afraid to leave. So they still live in Malpetra, but secretly, they do whatever they can to keep Cain out of power.”

“You mean like spies?” Elijah asked.

“Kind of,” Becca replied. “But they’re not working for anyone else. My father says they just do what they can to keep him out of power, even though they’re surrounded by his rapidly growing kingdom.” Roddick and Mr. Maybury walked slowly into the room as Becca’s story caught their attention. “Anyway,” she continued, aware of their presence, “we were caught by a guard who knew my family, so he helped us.”

“I wouldn’t say that exactly,” said Paul. “He really had a hard time deciding whether to help us or arrest us.”

“Of course he did!” said Becca. “If he was caught helping us, it would be the end of him—and probably us too!” Paul shrugged nonchalantly. “The point is,” Becca defended, “he helped us. He knew Phinneas and your uncle were Cain’s projects, so that’s what finally persuaded him. He told us where they were, and he stood guard while we let them out. Then, he walked us out a secret way—a way I didn’t know of, and we got out of there as soon as we could.”

“Did you happen to catch his name?” asked Master Roddick in a serious tone, still listening to Becca’s account.

“No,” she said, looking up. “I’m sorry.” Roddick nodded his head, looking disappointed. A thoughtful silence permeated the room for a moment until Becca’s eyes popped open. “Oh!” she said standing up. She walked over to a table and grabbed something from it. She ran her hands gently over two dark brown books before handing it to Elijah. His heart melted. There in his hands, he once again held Kyria’s diaries. He looked up at Becca wanting to say thank you, but words wouldn’t come out. She understood, however, and smiled at him. “Apparently, it was also being held in the high interest wing. The guard told us Cain had been using it for something very important, so he just handed it over to us.”

Elijah continued staring down at the diaries, which were more abused-looking than the last time he saw them. He noticed the one with the lock was unlatched, looking like it had been forced open. Another silence filled the room, but this time it was for Elijah’s benefit. He was tempted, for just a moment, to open it right then and there and begin reading. However, he forced himself to keep it closed until the right time. He wanted to talk to Uncle Stan first.

Elijah swallowed uncomfortably. “How can we thank this guard?” he asked, knowing his question sounded silly, but he needed to ask it anyway. Mr. Maybury spoke after no one answered.

“I think we just need to keep doing what we can to protect the good in the world—however we can—just like this guard did. It seems there is still hope out there.” Mr. Maybury’s words apparently gave them all something to think about because the mood was much more thoughtful for the rest of the time they spent together.

It wasn’t long before everyone had their fill of talking about their adventure and began to talk about their normal routines—physical training, elemental training, and what they were being served for lunches and dinners in the dining area when they returned. Finally, it was time to leave, and after they said goodbye, Elijah got up and left with Master Roddick.

On Sunday morning, Elijah woke up ready to talk to his uncle. Master Roddick showed him to the infirmary, which wasn’t too far from where the Roddicks lived. It was a very plain-looking building with two floors. The first floor was for the more emergent cases. Beds lined the room all the way down a long hallway. Up the stairs to the second floor was another hallway with lots of rooms.

One of the nurses walked Elijah into Uncle Stan’s room. The room was bare with only two very old-looking beds. There was a window for patients to look out, but other than that, not much entertainment was available. Uncle Stan was awake, lying in the bed closest to the window, and when Elijah walked into the room, he sat up gingerly.

“Hey, Eli!” he said in a cheerful voice, grunting as he moved. He looked much healthier than when Elijah last saw him. He was still very thin, but his color was back and he had been given a shave and haircut, which did wonders for his appearance. Mr. Roddick waved at Uncle Stan and let Elijah know he would wait downstairs for him whenever he was finished. Elijah sat down on the second bed, right next to his uncle.

“So tell me,” said Uncle Stan. “Did you bring the hairbrush?”

Elijah looked puzzled. “The hairbrush?”

“The last time we talked, I told you to get money out of my hairbrush, remember?” Uncle Stan asked. Elijah chuckled, remembering their last conversation. “For some reason, that was stuck in my mind the entire time I was rotting away in that horrible place. I waited six months to make that joke. It doesn’t seem so funny now.” His eyes became cloudy as if he was in a faraway place. “That was a long time ago, wasn’t it?” Elijah watched Uncle Stan apprehensively. There was something different about his uncle. The months of loneliness obviously had an effect on him.

“How are you feeling?” Elijah asked.

“Better now,” said Uncle Stan, perking up. “You wouldn’t believe how thirsty I was there. The hunger I could live with—even the torturing was bearable when it was over—but the thirst was a nightmare.”

Elijah shook his head in horror. “Torturing?”

“Aw, there’s no sense in bringing up those memories now,” Uncle Stan replied, brushing it off. “I’d rather talk about other things. I assume you have some questions.”

That was the truth! Ever since his uncle left him he had questions. As he thought about it, Elijah wasn’t sure where to begin. There seemed to be too many questions all related somehow. He decided to start with Uncle Stan’s story.

“So what happened that night?” Elijah started. “You told me to meet you at the park, but you never showed up. Someone here in Savenridge named Walter told me a few details, but he didn’t tell me everything.”

“I guess that’s as good of a place to start as any,” Stan said. “Well, I suppose you would know by now that I’m a Magi—”

“Were my parents Magi?” Elijah blurted. He couldn’t help interrupting. It just sort of came out. He couldn’t wait any longer. “I’m sorry. I just have to know.”

Uncle Stan sat up straighter in his bed and let out a long, slow sigh. After a moment of thinking, he spoke.

“Yes. They were. Your parents called themselves Magi.”

It was like learning about a long, lost relative. Elijah’s mind exploded with memories of his parents he now needed to dissect.

“How come they didn’t tell me?”

“Elijah, the power the Magi have is not something to be taken lightly. Think about the first day you learned about it. I bet that wasn’t something easy to digest,” Uncle Stan explained.

“It wasn’t,” Elijah agreed.

“That’s exactly why your parents didn’t tell you at first. Their plan was to tell you eventually, and I imagine they were going to do it soon, but they had to make sure you were brought up with a mind able to handle the secrets. That you were going to use the power for good and not for your own gain. I’ve only been here a couple of days, and I’ve already heard from a couple of the Magi how solid your mind is. Where do you think you got that from?” Uncle Stan asked.

Elijah shrugged. He had the same question. “I don’t know. Everyone keeps telling me that, but I don’t know why.”

“It’s because of your parents,” said Uncle Stan sitting up taller. “They trained you how to use it. They may not have told you, but for your entire life, they have been preparing you for this time. They’ve been teaching you the difference between good and evil. They worked with you on being able to use your gifts, even though you probably didn’t realize it—through basic life lessons or small moments you had with them. They talked with you and shaped you into quite a young man. You may not have seen it, but they had a plan. A plan that has made you ready for the first day you stepped foot inside Savenridge. That is why you are so special. You had two of the best trainers at your service every single day, who loved you more than you will ever know.”

It took more strength for Elijah to keep back tears at that moment than running all night through Malpetra. He thought back to the night his parents were killed, and the last thing his father told him was that he loved him and that there was a plan. For six months, Elijah thought the plan had failed—that it had gone terribly wrong because they ended up dead. But it was Elijah who had been wrong. He was the plan. His entire life was a plan, and he was living it out now by following the path they had made for him. Thinking about all of this was too much for Elijah, and his strength gave out. He never made a sound, but his chin quivered violently, and he had to dry his eyes multiple times before he spoke again. Uncle Stan was polite and looked away. After a minute or so, Elijah had composed himself.

“I didn’t want to tell you either because I didn’t know what your parents wanted you to know,” Uncle Stan said, sensing Elijah was ready to talk again.

“Did Kyria know?” Elijah asked.

“Yes,” said Uncle Stan. “I didn’t talk with her much, but I remember your daddy telling me she was real upset she had to keep it a secret from you. Man, did she love you.” Suddenly, Elijah wanted the unread diary with him. He remembered reading she had a secret she wanted to share with him. He wanted to read what that secret was now.

“So can you tell me now what happened to you that night?” Elijah asked, returning to the original question.

“Sure,” said Uncle Stan. “Are you sure you’re finished talking about your parents?”

“No,” admitted Elijah. “But I’ll get to that later.”

Uncle Stan smiled. “Ok then. I’m going to have to go way back—about ten years ago for this because it starts when I left—” he paused for a moment. “Well—let’s just say when I left to live away from the Magi. First of all, your parents and I were real close. You and Kyria were just young little things, but your parents were in danger. Real danger. Not even Savenridge was safe for them. They had to do something drastic. They believed the safest thing to do for their family was to disassociate themselves from all Magi and live among the common people. They left the life they knew, changed their names, cut off all ties with the Magi, and moved to what you remember as home.”

“Why were they in danger?” Elijah asked curiously.

“I’m embarrassed to say I don’t know,” Uncle Stan said. “I’m not exactly the inquisitive type, so when they told me they were leaving, I didn’t ask any questions. I just went with them. Sounds pretty stupid, doesn’t it?” Had it been anyone but Uncle Stan, it would have sounded absurd. But that was just the way he was. He was carefree and liked adventure, so it didn’t surprise Elijah he didn’t ask questions.

“I saw your picture Saint Phillip’s Academy, along with my dad,” said Elijah. “At least I think it was you.”

Uncle Stan nodded. “Yeah. That was us. Wow! I had no idea you went to the Academy! I guess it makes sense, though, since you would have been picked up by that maggot detective,” Uncle Stan replied. “I didn’t catch on he was no good until it was too late. I’m sorry for that, Elijah. I really am.” Elijah shook his head and made a small wave with his hand, letting his uncle know not to worry about it.

“So when you left to live among the common people, you had no contact at all with any Magi?” Elijah asked.

“Well—I really didn’t follow your daddy’s request fully,” answered Uncle Stan with a small smile. “He told me I could never talk to other Magi. But, I had what you might call an addiction to living a little dangerously—still do if you want to know the truth—and I couldn’t stay away from the cause forever. Since I made a promise to move away, I wanted to keep that promise, so I found a way I could do both—to be away but still work for the Magi cause.”

“You mean by becoming a marshal,” Elijah said.

“Yes,” said Uncle Stan. “I became a marshal and worked to stop the Maliphists from doing all sorts of things, but I was careful to keep your parents out of conversations or any other associations that might bring up questions. For ten years we lived like this. I lived close enough to visit your family, but far enough away to work safely as a marshal.

“Then, about a day before your parents were—” Uncle Stan looked away for a moment, collecting himself. “—anyway, before that night, your daddy called me in a panic. He said he sensed danger and he needed me to take some things to hide.”

“What?” Elijah asked.

“A book. Well, he gave me that whole box of things, but he was most concerned with the book. It seemed silly to me at the time, but he was genuinely afraid of having it, and he told me to take it and make sure it stayed safe. So I agreed and drove down and picked up the box. And that was the last time—” he cleared his throat and swallowed. “—the last time I saw your parents.”

“What was the book?” asked Elijah.

“I don’t know. I never looked at it. It’s in storage with the rest of your parents’ things.” Elijah looked at him with wide eyes remembering some of the contents of the large box he went through after his parents were killed. He still didn’t know what the cube of dirt was about, but it sounded like the book was important.

“You’re talking about the large brown book with worn edges? Looks very old?” Elijah asked.

“Yes,” answered Uncle Stan. “I had no idea how important this book was to the Maliphists until I was caught and put into prison.”

“What’s so important about it?” Elijah asked.

“Well, let me get there,” Uncle Stan said, ready to continue on with the rest of his story. “After you came to live with me, I was called in for an emergency to head all the way up to the Canadian border where there was apparently going to be a huge attack on a common city. We got there in time to stop it, but we still had to proctor the situation. That’s when I called you. I had no idea who Detective what’s-his-name was, but when you told me he came by, I knew something wasn’t right. I figured you would be safe if you were away from the house, so that’s why I told you to go to the park.”

Elijah interrupted Uncle Stan’s narrative to ask a question. “Roddick told me that Detective Scott was what they called a delivery runner, or something. What is that?”

“Deliverer,” Uncle Stan corrected. “Deliverers are not fully Maliphists, and not fully common people. They are sort of in the middle. They work for the Maliphists, however, and their job is to get access to troubled kids. Detective Scott is a real detective, in other words. That’s why he had access to everything. His job, as a deliverer, was to collect you and take you to the academy, where eventually, if you had the stuff they were looking for, you would be taken to Malpetra to become a Maliphist—in theory. I’m guessing Detective Scott didn’t expect to have a Magi’s kid on his hands, though.” Elijah remembered how Detective Scott was so interested in the burn marks on the side of his parents’ house. He remembered the detective asking him what they were. He wondered now if that was just to find out if Elijah knew about the Magi.

“So then what happened?” Elijah asked.

“I was caught,” said Uncle Stan frankly. “They took me to Malpetra and threw me in the prison. Elijah, I want you to know every single day I was away I hated myself for leaving you alone in that park. I’m so sorry.”

“You couldn’t have done anything about it,” said Elijah.

“I was caught—plain and simple. I shouldn’t have been. I should have been more careful. And I paid for it. They questioned me every day about the book and about your parents. When I pretended like I didn’t know anything about it, they tortured me, but I still didn’t say anything.”

“Did you find out what’s in it they want?” Elijah asked.

“No,” answered Uncle Stan. “But they want it bad, whatever it is. They’ve apparently been looking for it for years.”

“And you have it?” asked Elijah.

Uncle Stan nodded his head. “Yup. Right along with everything else that belonged to your parents.”

“Well let’s read it!” Elijah said excitedly. “Let’s go get it together and bring it here!”

“Easy now,” said his uncle. “Let’s not get ahead of ourselves. You have some training to finish, and I have to get healthy again.”

“So wait—” said Elijah, now putting the pieces together. “Is that why the Maliphists want me?”

“I would put money on it,” answered Uncle Stan. “They didn’t get the information from me, and you’re the only living Hawk relative left who hasn’t been questioned.”

“Do you think they’ll come looking for me again?”

“Unfortunately, yes, I do,” Uncle Stan said gravely. “So you’re going to have to be very careful. That’s one reason why we can’t just go waltzing into a storage unit for the book. We’re both going to have to watch our backs.” Elijah’s spirit of adventure was suddenly halted.

Uncle Stan shifted in his bed and grimaced with pain. Elijah sensed maybe it was time to leave.

“I’m pretty sure that’s about all I have to answer,” said Uncle Stan. “Is there anything else you want to know?”

“I think that’s all for now,” answered Elijah. He knew where Uncle Stan would be if more questions popped up. “Well, I’d better go and let you get some rest.”

“Okay Eli. Thanks for coming to see me. Go say thanks to your friend Roddick for taking such good care of you,” said Uncle Stan. “I owe him.” Elijah smiled and headed out the door. All of a sudden, he thought of something. He turned back around.

“Where are you going to stay when you get out of here?” he asked.

Uncle Stan shrugged. “Haven’t thought that far ahead yet.” Elijah grinned at his uncle and shook his head as he walked back out the door.

When Elijah got back to Master Roddick’s house, he walked into his room, closed the door and took out Kyria’s unread diary. The torn-off lock was dinged and scratched. The cover, also abused, was folded and torn. He was angry with how little respect the Maliphists showed this treasure Elijah now held. He carefully opened up the diary to the first page. There was nothing written there. Elijah turned it to the second page. Nothing. Then the third, then the fourth. He began to flip through the pages in chunks, but it was blank the entire way through. Frustrated, he dropped the book on his bed and it fell open to the first page again. Suddenly, Elijah noticed something. Out of the binding of the book, it appeared there were several ripped pages. Elijah inspected it closer. He was right! Someone had ripped out the pages of Kyria’s diary. Had the Maliphists found something and ripped it out? Or, had Kyria ripped them out before she died? And if so, why?