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  He unstrapped his backpack and set it by the sofa. The man disappeared into one of the other rooms, but Daniel didn’t care to see what he was up to. He heard his mom’s voice running through his mind. Always use your manners, Daniel. Wait until you’re asked to sit down before doing so. However, given the circumstances, he felt certain his mother would let him forgo etiquette and collapsed on the couch. The cushions enveloped his body, and every ounce of his energy faded in that moment.

  Daniel scanned the room and realized, while it appeared as it should, it was empty of any personal items. There were no pictures, no knick-knacks, no clocks, no jackets or sweaters on the coat rack. Everybody has something, Daniel thought. “Oh, no way,” he surprised himself by saying out loud. “Where’s the TV?”

  The man rounded the corner, carrying a large tray. He placed it on the table and motioned for Daniel to eat.

  “Oh, wow,” he said. “Pizza! You were only in there for a minute. This is piping hot. The cheese is still melting. How did you do that? No, wait, I don’t want to know.” He wasn’t about to let anything ruin this moment. The pizza looked exactly like one from Marco’s. But surely even Marco’s wouldn’t deliver way out here.

  Daniel reached for a slice of the perfectly-proportioned pizza. Pepperoni, sausage, extra cheese—a real pizza. He blew on it and took a bite. Definitely hot, but as his taste buds opened, he stopped chewing. “Ugh! What is this?” he managed to say, trying hard not to swallow the bite he’d placed in his mouth; however, seeing no napkin to spit it in, he had no choice but to swallow the food.

  “Are you trying to kill me?” He reached for a mug that appeared to hold water and sniffed it. Odorless—and at this point, any taste was better than the one dancing in his mouth. He took a small sip. Water. He chugged the rest, wiping his mouth with his sleeve. So much for manners.

  Daniel got ready to tell the old man off but hesitated. For the first time since meeting him, the man actually looked hurt, and Daniel realized the truth—he’d been trying to do something nice. Daniel took another look at the ruined pizza. How could something that looked so perfect taste so horrible? True, there was an art to making a perfect pizza, but even the cardboard microwave ones didn’t make him want to puke.

  “I’m sorry,” Daniel said. “I didn’t mean to hurt your feelings. It wasn’t what I expected, that’s all, and I didn’t think before yelling. I’m really sorry.”

  Again, he noticed the sparkle in the man’s eyes and considered how the eyes didn’t match the rest of his body. He recalled how the man scurried up the tree that afternoon without missing a breath, and how he raced across the rocks of the stream in a quarter of the time it took Daniel. Actually, the old man didn’t even need a break on their trek across the meadow. He stopped to wait for Daniel.

  “Do you know puzzles?” the man said.

  “Do I know puzzles? I know what puzzles are, if that’s what you mean. Everyone knows what a puzzle is.”

  “Then you realize a puzzle is pieces of something that need to be joined as a whole, to form what truly is?”

  Daniel knew what the old man was saying; it was the way he said it. Why did he use so many words to ask simple questions? “I guess so,” he answered, holding back the response he really wanted to give. He’d already hurt the old man’s feelings once—he didn’t want to make a habit of it.

  The man adjusted himself in the chair, rubbing his beard, which Daniel noticed he did quite frequently. He stood and walked gracefully to the fireplace. “My name is Alistair. I am not a hallucination. My intent was not to kill you with the pizza.”

  He placed his hands in front of the flames, slowly rubbing them together. The glow from the fire illuminated his robe and Daniel noticed, for the first time, small specks of glitter imbedded into the fabric. They sparkled, giving the man a regal appearance.

  “You’re not what I expected, Daniel. And while you do not reason out the obvious, you have extraordinary perception. I have much to say and you have a need to listen. You must open your mind to what you’ve never known. You must accept what cannot be and understand that what cannot be is what has always been.”

  “Look, I have no idea what you said. Why can’t you talk like everyone else? I’ll accept you’re not a hallucination because I figure I’d be able to understand something I created in my head—and I sure don’t understand you. So that means you need to tell me who you are, where I’m at, and what that blue light was that I came through. Can you do that without weird speeches?”

  “Sometimes,” the man said, “people need to see for themselves, rather than being told what is.” Turning to face Daniel, the man stroked his long, white beard. As Daniel watched, he suspected the light from the fire was playing tricks on his eyes. It looked like the old man was standing inside the flames, and the imbedded sparkles from his robe looked like … Daniel’s eyes widened.

  “I saw this,” he said. “I saw this earlier.”

  In his earlier vision, the man disappeared. Daniel couldn’t let that happen again. “No,” he pleaded. “You can’t go. I need you!” He tried to jump up, but the sofa was so cushioned that he fell back. “Don’t leave me. Please.”

  The man clapped his hands together and an orange mist appeared around him. “He’s not leaving,” Daniel whispered. “He’s changing.” Daniel watched, as the transformation took place. The battered and weathered face of the old man faded. His skin smoothened along his body. The thinning gray hair on his head evaporated, replaced by thick brown locks. The white strands of the man’s beard moved upward along his robe until they disappeared.

  The old man was gone and standing in his place was a younger man—a much younger man, probably his father’s age. Daniel understood why the man’s eyes hadn’t fit such a body. The man in front of him was their true owner.

  “Alistair?” Daniel said hesitantly.

  “I’m sorry, Daniel. But as I said earlier, sometimes people need to see things for themselves.” Alistair lifted the excess material from the floor and wrapped the robe around his body. “I’m going to miss that beard,” he said with a smile. “I suppose I should change into something more fitting.”

  “I’m glad you think this is so funny, Alistair.”

  “Not funny, but the look on your face was priceless. And if you took a moment to stop being so angry, you’d realize some of your questions have been answered.”

  “Nothing has been answered. If anything, I’m more confused than ever. People can’t change from one person to another. It’s an impossibility. Can’t happen.”

  “I didn’t change from one person to another. I remained Alistair at all times.”

  “Don’t start with the riddles. I don’t know why you pretended to be an old man or how you made yourself look like one. And how do I even know you’re who you look like now? You could be some alien trying to make me feel comfortable until the mother ship takes me away. Come to think of it, it’s all making sense. That’s what you are, isn’t it? You’re an alien and making me see all this stuff.”

  “An alien? Mother ship?”

  “From another planet. Stevie and I know all about this stuff. We’ve seen the movies. I know what you’re up to and can tell you right now that you won’t get away with it.” Daniel felt himself shaking inside. He hoped it wasn’t apparent to this … thing. He didn’t want to give him the satisfaction of knowing how scared he really was.

  “I assure you, Daniel, I am not an alien. I’m not even certain what your alien is. But I’m quite certain I’m not green, and I don’t shoot light from a silver disc.”

  “So you do know what aliens are. You described them perfectly.”

  “No, you envisioned them perfectly. I translated your vision.”

  Daniel stared blankly at Alistair. I envisioned them, you translated? What does he mean, that he reads my thoughts? Can he do that? Of course, he can do it. He’s been doing it all day. But how does he do it? It’s got to be some sort of trick. He thinks about the conversation and ex
pects it’s something I’ll say. All right, Mr. Magician, let’s see how good you really are.

  Daniel closed his eyes. He went to a place he dreaded going—his deepest and most painful memory. But he knew it had to be something Alistair couldn’t guess, something he’d never shared with anyone. Behind closed eyes, he felt tears form and placed his head in his hands. He wasn’t about to give Alistair the satisfaction of seeing him cry.

  “Please, Daniel,” Alistair said. “Do not put yourself through this torment. Believe me that I see your thoughts. And know that I, too, understand the pain of losing a father.”

  Chapter 19

  Alistair

  After he cleared the “pizza” from the table, Alistair replaced it with a spread of fruits, berries, bread, and the most wonderful stew Daniel had ever tasted (though it included more vegetables than he cared for). There had been little talk since Daniel brought up the memories of Joel. Daniel was grateful for the lack of conversation and tried to focus on what was in front of him. He didn’t know how Alistair was able to read his thoughts, but he now accepted, without a doubt, that he could.

  Alistair changed into some pants that were bloused at the knee. He wore a long tan shirt with puffed sleeves, and a large brown belt with a round buckle. Daniel thought the look was a bit too sissy for a grown man, but it was better than the oversized robe, which served as a reminder of the day’s events.

  Alistair ate little and made no eye contact, and Daniel wondered whether it was for his benefit or Alistair’s. The two sat silent until Daniel spoke.

  “How old are you?”

  “I am three hundred and fourteen years old.”

  “I mean in people years. Not like dog years or anything.”

  “I am three hundred and fourteen years old, in people years.”

  “Well, you look really good for your age.”

  “Thank you. And you look old to be thirteen.”

  “Yeah, well, you should see my kid brother.”

  “Your brother? Would that be Joshua?”

  The answer caught him off guard, then he remembered Alistair had probably seen images of Joshua in his memories. “Yeah,” he answered. “He’s a pain in my butt. Always getting in my business, clumsiest kid in the world. I have to take him everywhere and never get a minute’s peace. But you know what? I’d give anything to see him right now.” Daniel considered what he’d said. “And that doesn’t mean I want you to change into him. I’m not ready for two Joshuas in my life, okay?”

  “Of course, I understand. And I promise I won’t change into anyone or anything without you knowing first.”

  “Cool,” said Daniel. “Hey, you said anyone or anything. Does that mean you can change into whatever you want?”

  “Yes. Some objects take more energy and power. Human form is the easiest, requiring the least amount of energy. Should I want to transform into a bird, it takes more effort to match my body and organs to those of the bird.”

  “You can fly?” Daniel said. “How cool is that? Is changing something you could teach me to do?”

  “It may be something you can already do.”

  “What? I can’t change. I’ve wished a million times I was someone else, but I always wake up as me. It’s got to be something in your genes or your blood. Sorry, I never paid much attention in biology. But I do know that whatever you’ve got, I don’t.”

  “You have the blood of your ancestors, and that is very strong. You have more power than you know, Daniel, and that power will be tested. If you don’t believe, you will fail.”

  “Yeah, I’ve heard all this before. You sound like one of those TV shrinks.” Daniel lowered his voice to imitate an adult. “You’ve got so much potential, Daniel. You can do it if you believe in yourself.” Daniel leaned forward and took an apple from the table. He bit into it, half-expecting an unknown taste, but it was as delicious as any apple he’d eaten.

  “Do you recall earlier, when I told you I had much to say and you had a need to listen?”

  “Yes,” said Daniel, with a mouthful of apple.

  “Then listen while I tell you a story. Once told, you will not be another teenager trying to figure out who you really are. You will know your ancestors; you will know their sacrifice; and you will know the power you hold within.”

  “I already know about my ancestors. I know my great-grandpa was a fisherman and worked on a large fishing boat out of San Francisco. And my great-great-grandpa worked the mines. I know their sacrifices. I know where I came from and who I am.”

  “If that’s true,” said Alistair, “then how did you not know you are a wizard?”

  “A wizard? You mean like … like Merlin?”

  Alistair peered into Daniel’s eyes, searching. “Okay, you have to stop doing that,” Daniel said. “Every time you look at me that way, you go in my head and start pulling stuff out. It’s private, and I don’t need you searching in there like some guy on a computer trying to find a missing file.”

  “I’m sorry. It’s easier to see what you see rather than interpret what you are saying. You’re not very good at articulating.”

  “Then we’re even, because I don’t understand a word you say.”

  They looked at each and a smile appeared simultaneously on both of their faces. Daniel nestled back onto the sofa. He was too old for bedtime stories but somehow knew this one would be good. “Tell me your story, Alistair, and there better not be any mushy stuff in it.”

  As the warmth of the fire filled the cabin, Alistair reclined in the chair, resting his hands on the arms, tilting his head back against the soft cushion. His eyes remained alert, as his mind drifted back to a very different time and place.

  ***

  “The world was very young. It was a hard time and people died more easily than they lived. Most worked hard for little, earning meager livings but satisfied with what they had. Some men, however, rejected such a simple existence. These men sought possession and money, the ownership of other human beings, and were willing to do whatever it took to accomplish their ends.

  “Concurrently, stories abounded throughout the land of a few men and women who possessed extraordinary powers, ones that allowed them to do great things. They could manipulate the elements, create illusions, predict the future, and see into the past. It was said some could even shape-shift, transforming themselves into anyone, or anything, they desired.

  “While most cowered at the thought of someone so powerful living among them, those seeking command longed for their services, to ensure their own prosperity. These men were ruthless and spent every waking moment in search of the magical ones, but the magical ones were never found.

  “As time passed, each generation produced a more evil and arrogant ruler of men. Armies were built; alliances were drawn. Battle cast its shadow over the land. Lost amid the chaos of war were rumors of the magical ones. Their stories became myth. People scoffed at the idea of someone possessing such power. They thought it nonsense, and the few who did believe were ridiculed within their townships.

  “The Magicals did exist, but not to serve one man. They were born in a time no man would have known. They spread across the land, joined in the knowledge that their power was given to them to serve all, to better the world in which they lived. Allowing themselves to be known would serve no purpose, so they limited their powers to conceal their existence. They tended to those in need, bestowing unknown gifts; some befriended the ill, providing healing remedies that were passed down from their forefathers; some cast spells over farmlands to produce crops that fed many; and some chose to lead ordinary lives, until the time came for them to move on. Staying in one place for long periods of time would surely raise questions about their age.

  “Treabore was a Magical. He preferred the simple life and found pleasure living with his wife, Leah, among the humans in his township. By all accounts, he was a very kind and generous man. Later in their years, Leah gave birth to a son, and the child was embraced by the township. As the child grew,
Treabore and Leah taught him the ways of magic, instilling in him the values shared by all Magicals. Their son, Meruzilak, was quick to embrace these ideals. As the years went by, the family enjoyed a peaceful existence. Their love for each other, and for those within the village, ensured a richness of life many never know.

  “There are very few obstacles in a Magical’s life, but one inescapable obstacle facing all is death. Treabore became very sick. Leah tried many different potions, but each failed and Treabore grew steadily worse. As a young Magical, without the full potential of his power, Meruzilak could only watch as his father lost strength with each day.

  “The world does not stop for an ailing man, and the ways of men continued. Their battle for power spread across the territory, destroying village after village. True to their nature, the Magicals did not interfere. This was a war among men that must be won or lost without the assistance of magic. The battle soon came to Treabore’s township. The men set fire to the homes and crop fields. What they couldn’t burn they destroyed with their weapons and bare hands.

  “Leah saw the army approaching, through a window in the home. Quickly, she cloaked Meruzilak under a spell of invisibility and rushed to Treabore’s side, hoping to do the same for him. But before she cast her spell, the men broke into the house. When they came upon Leah, cradling her husband and pleading for safety, the men took their lives without mercy.”

  Alistair tilted his head forward and studied Daniel for a moment. Daniel was sitting on the edge of the sofa, wide-eyed and hanging on every word. “Oh, come on,” he said. “Don’t stop now. It’s getting good. And you’re not talking in a bunch of riddles. I want to know what happens to Meruzilak.”

  Alistair leaned back in the chair again. He took a deep breath and continued.

  “Meruzilak buried his parents. There was no one left in the township to witness the sight. Had a traveler passed by that day, he would have seen a shovel removing the ground on its own accord, two bodies being pulled on a rug, with no attendee, then falling on their own into the opened earth. He would have watched the dirt being thrown back into the ground by the spirited shovel and, later, would say it was the ghost of the dead taking care of its own. But seeing as there was no traveler on the road that day, Meruzilak’s actions went unnoticed.