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hands, and they responded. He could feel his fingers twitching beneath his body. He tried his toes. They likewise responded. In an instant, he could move his entire body.
    James rolled over and sat up. He realized that he was surrounded by plants with leaves wider across than his outstretched arms. Above him towered trees larger than any he had ever seen. The trunks of these giants were shrouded in green moss. The lowest branches hung stories above. The canopy was so far away he couldn’t make out any details. He shivered again and realized that he was completely naked. He looked down at the place where he had been lying. A bed of leaves still held the imprint of his body. Several inches of water filled the depression.
    James scanned his surroundings. All he could see were tree trunks and the giant-leaf, ground-dwelling plants. He tried to determine which direction the light was coming from, but, curiously, there were no shadows. He took a deep breath and struggled to remember an incantation that would have come easily to him previously. Finally, he plucked it from the recesses of his mind. He held out his hand and expelled the ancient language from the depths of his lungs. “ Errelebatu ,” he said. Nothing happened. He stood perplexed for a moment. He wondered if he had mispronounced it, so he tried it again. Each attempt was met with the same result: nothing. He tried other incantations, dozens of them. Each yielded nothing.
    Frustrated and cold, he realized he needed to move. He picked a direction and headed out. As he brushed past one of the giant-leaf plants, he jumped back in pain and alarm. He looked down at his thigh. Blood seeped from an incision that stretched from hip to knee. He instinctively raised his hand and attempted a healing incantation, but he was again unsuccessful. He cursed, frustrated. James lifted the giant leaf and inspected its underside. Thousands of needle-sharp protrusions stood ready to ward off any animal foolish enough to be lured by the succulent-looking foliage. He looked up again hoping to find a direction less choked with the giant-leaf plants. They littered the forest floor in every direction. He let out a breath and continued more cautiously on his way.

— 3 —
The Accident
December 1894, England
    Margaret felt a hand on her forehead. She opened her eyes, hoping against hope that it was all a dream. The moment her vision focused she knew her nightmare was a reality. Her husband was dead.
    Tabitha Ogilvy stood over her with a concerned look on her face. “You must rise. We cannot delay any longer,” she said.
    All Margaret wanted to do was grieve for her slain husband. He had fallen just hours ago and already she was being told it was time to move on. Those past few hours had torn at her insides. She’d questioned everything that had directed her life for the past eight years. She questioned whether the fight was worth such loss. Alvaro had risen to power and the followers of Akil had been forced into hiding. She, her husband, and their son had spent the better part of the past eight years moving from place to place in order to protect James from Alvaro’s people. Men and women had died to protect them. In the end, even her husband’s life was lost in protection of her son.
    She had no doubt in James’s superior abilities. Within a year her husband had to search for a more suitable instructor because James’s talents had surpassed his own. Over the past eight years, James had been instructed by nearly fifty teachers. Each had been certain James was gifted. Some even suspected he may be the Anointed One, the one spoken of by the Seer. Still, Margaret would not tip her hand.
    Margaret had insisted that none of his instructors tell James of their suspicions. She believed he should discover his gifts on his own. In the end, it was his father who had shared the information about the Seer’s declaration with James. Stuart found it impossible to refuse the boy—the love of his