“How does your academy manage to do better?”
“By placing Max among other gifted, creative students from all around the world. By providing him with teachers who understand his gifts and are capable of developing them to their potential.”
“Did you attend Rowan?”
“Yes, I did, Mr. McDaniels. I was visited by a Recruiter in my village in Africa.” She clapped her hands together and gave a girlish laugh. “Ah, it seems like ages ago. My parents did not want to let their baby go; they were afraid of all that might go wrong! But, after a quiet time, my father came to me and said, ‘If a man does not stand for something, he will fall for anything. I want to stand for you.’”
Her eyes glistened, and she smiled at the memory. Mr. McDaniels stared at his knobby fingers. His voice was tight when he next spoke.
“I don’t know what to do here. It sounds like a good opportunity, but I just don’t know if Max is ready for something like this. Max, how do you feel?”
To this point, Max had been happy to be a bystander. Now, with their attention focused on him, he became very nervous.
“I don’t know. I don’t want to leave you alone.”
“Don’t worry about me, Max. I’m a big boy.”
After an awkward silence, Miss Awolowo spoke.
“Mr. McDaniels? Would it be all right if I spoke to Max one on one?”
“Max? Would you like that?”
Max glanced at Miss Awolowo, who waited patiently.
“It’s a beautiful summer evening, Max. Why don’t we walk around the block and get a breath of fresh air?”
Max looked at his father, who nodded his approval.
Miss Awolowo took Max’s arm as they walked down the front steps. The night sky was very clear. They walked without speaking, passing quietly under the streetlamp. Giving his arm a soft pat, Miss Awolowo broke the silence.
“Nigel sends his best. You made quite an impression on him—he speaks very highly of you. You have our deepest apologies for that woman’s unfortunate visit.”
Max shuddered and focused his eyes on the dark hedges and lawns all around them. Miss Awolowo drew him nearer and hummed a low, pretty tune.
“You have no need to fear, Max. The Enemy is aware of me and knows that I am no trifle. Old Awolowo can be fierce!” She flashed her eyes wide, chuckled, and gave his arm a playful squeeze. Max smiled and tried to relax.
“Miss Awolowo? Who is the Enemy? Nigel wouldn’t answer my questions.”
“Yes, well, that’s not his job to answer questions of that sort. Will you come with me? I want to show you something.”
Max nodded. Miss Awolowo straightened to her full height and looked down upon him. Her eyes shone silver, and to Max she appeared as wise and beautiful as all the queens in all his old storybooks put together. She smiled and took his hand.
Max’s insides squirmed like they had when he saw the tapestry. Only this time it didn’t feel like he’d swallowed bees; helium balloons now filled his stomach. His feet tingled as though he’d stepped into a bath that was too hot. When Max looked down to investigate, he gasped.
The sidewalk was shrinking.
Miss Awolowo held his hand tightly as they rose slowly above the streetlamps and dark clumps of trees. They drifted together on the night breeze, leaving houses and parks in their wake as they glided over the treetops and chimneys. They skimmed out over the lake and rose up in gentle spirals.
They soared so high, Max thought they might catch the moon. He laughed and reached out to touch it. He couldn’t reach it, though. It continued to hover above them, bright and distant and cold.
“We live in a beautiful world, don’t we?”
Miss Awolowo’s words shook Max out of his reverie. It had all seemed utterly like a dream until he realized with sudden terror that he was indeed high above the lake with the wind whipping fiercely about him.
Miss Awolowo was serene. “Let’s find a more comfortable perch, shall we?”
Max nodded enthusiastically.
With a wide, lazy turn, she guided them toward the Baha’i temple that jutted against the night sky like a massive block of carved ivory. She set them down on its dome, many stories above the trees. They sat side by side, and Miss Awolowo smoothed her robes and clasped her hands together.
“There! That’s better.” Running her hand over the intricate stonework about them, she declared, “I do love this building. Anyway, are you a bit warmer, my dear?”
“Yes, ma’am.”
“Now take a look up at the sky. What do you see?”
“I don’t know,” Max said. “Stars. The moon.”
“You also see a great deal of darkness, don’t you? Max, this is our struggle. There is a force in this world that does not love the moon, stars, or sun. It doesn’t care for the lights of cities, the joys of laughter, or even the sounds of grief. It doesn’t care for anything that causes a ripple in the perfect black stillness whence it came. It would devour that moon if it could.”
Max shivered and watched an elderly couple strolling in the gardens far below. Miss Awolowo continued.
“It can’t devour the moon, so it seeks to devour man instead. For thousands of years, people have fought against this Enemy in all its many forms. People like you and me.”
Max looked hard at her. Miss Awolowo nodded and touched two fingers to his forehead.
“Yes, Max—people like you. You were born a prince, a prince of humankind. For centuries, gifted people have developed their abilities to ensure man can continue to grow and create beautiful things like this very building. Without us, mankind would have perished long ago. Ours is an ancient struggle for survival.”
“And you want me to join this…struggle?”
Miss Awolowo smiled and placed her head on Max’s head.
“Nigel said you are a brave boy. But you’re far too young to make such a choice. Only Rowan’s graduates are asked to make that decision, and some elect to do other things. All I want you to do is to give us a try and see if you like it.”
Max frowned. “What if I decide not to go? Would you be angry?”
Miss Awolowo sat quietly for several moments. Her response was measured.
“I would be disappointed, but certainly not angry. I won’t lie to you, however. My desire for you to come to Rowan is very strong. Nigel’s report suggests the Old Magic might be in you, that you might be a prince even among our kind. In person, I can see it might be so. The little light within you burns so bright it warms even old Awolowo!”
Her beaded necklace shook with her laughter.
“Yes, Max, that light is very bright indeed. I am only sorry that others have seen it, too. Given what’s happened, I think Rowan would be a safer place for you. But I am here only to offer opportunities—you will get no judgments or false choices from me. The decision is yours alone, and it is an important one.”
Max hugged his knees, listening carefully.
Max swiveled from Miss Awolowo and followed the path of a plane far away over the moonlit lake. Its signal light blinked at steady intervals against the deep blue sky. When he turned to her, his face was set and fierce.
“I want to go.”
4
THE FLIGHT TO ROWAN
The night before he left for Rowan, Max had an extraordinary dream.
He was walking across an open field at dusk, tossing a ball high ahead of him and running forward to catch it. The wind was brisk and the moon was rising as he came to a path that led to a distant house with lighted windows.
Suddenly, something large darted from a nearby hedge and loped onto the path in front of him. It was an enormous wolfhound. It paused and glowered at him.
Max froze. The animal’s heavy face began to flicker and shift—momentarily adopting the unmistakable features of Mrs. Millen, Nigel, Miss Awolowo, and the strange man from the train. The hound padded toward Max, a murderous rumble emanating from its throat as its face became his father’s.