Prologue
“Unlock.”
The golden lock clicked, signaling its recognition of the deep voice. “Open,” he said again, swinging the door inward on its hinges as if a strong breeze forced it open.
A faint creak sounded with every step the man took. A few wax candles provided the only light in the room. It was bare and made entirely of pine, from the floor to the ceiling. He continued to walk, knowing exactly where he was going because he had done it a hundred times before.
At the other end of the room sat a large rug with a pattern similar to an expressionist painting. The man approached the rug, took in a deep breath, and sat down. His reddish-gray beard shimmered in the candlelight, and his hands laid gently on his crossed legs. He closed his wrinkled eyes and sat alone and in silence. He slowed his breathing to a steady pace.
“Come in.”
Another man walked through the door, the pine creaking louder. “Illuminate hands.” His palms glowed like two lanterns. He held out his shining hands in front of him as a guide and took each step with great care as if he were avoiding splinters. His dark eyes were hardly visible in the dim light, and his bald head looked like a billiards cue ball. He was several inches taller than six feet, but felt small in the room.
“Follow my voice.”
The tall man followed the commands and found the rug where the elder man sat. He never once opened his eyes but continued to sit forward with his back towards the entrance. He lifted his arm and held it out to his left, his palm facing the ceiling. The other man walked forward and sat down where the old man pointed, wrapping his arms around his bent knees.
“You do not have to keep it so dark in here you know,” said the tall man in a raspy voice, his vocal cords cut off every few seconds. The sound reverberated off of the barren walls.
“It keeps me from being distracted,” replied the old man. He opened his eyes to look at his friend, but was taken aback by the shining orbs radiating from his hands. “Darken hands.”
The room darkened, with the only light once again coming from the few candles. “The darkness is peaceful to me. Light makes you see things you do not want to see and causes you to lose focus.”
“Yes, but the light keeps you from getting lost. Even you know, sir, getting lost in this world could have drastic consequences.”
The old man grinned, the left side of his mouth curving upwards more than the right. “You may be young, Zion, but you are wise beyond your years.”
“You have taught me well, sir, but I am not young.”
“To me, everyone is young.” The old man looked forward again, staring at the blank wall in front of him.
Silence rang loud in Zion’s ears, and he shifted in his seat several times, unable to find a comfortable position. He scratched his scalp near his ears. “Sir, you only come in this room when you need to think, if you are distressed, or both. What is it this time?”
“I sense someone powerful. He is not in New York, but he is near.”
Zion’s eyelids constricted slightly, focusing on the old man next to him. “The Black Sorcerer is near, sir?”
“It is possible. But I have never felt this strong of an attraction to his magic. He is a powerful magician indeed, Zion, but he has never radiated this much strength before.”
“Could it be that he has found a piece of the Mortem Apparatus?” A few strands of loose hair covered his right eye. “If he has found a piece, which we both know is possible, he would indeed be stronger.”
The old man looked at Zion for the second time. He could only see a few specks of his pale white face. “He did not find anything. As you know, I have been keeping a tight watch. You are part of a small group of people I trust with that information, Zion.”
“So who is more powerful than the Black Sorcerer?”
A small light from the candle flickered on the old man’s bluish gray eyes. “A few days ago, I followed my senses. It brought me to the city of Philadelphia. I know I am an old and experienced man, but I was confused.”
Zion’s mouth broke into a small smile. “You, sir, were confused? That is a first.”
“The reason I was confused is the powerful being was a young boy. His name is Baron Baker.”
“Who is that? I have never heard that name before.”
“Neither had I. But I’m sure you know his parents, Lady Lightning and Sir Strength.”
Zion’s eyes grew wide. “Of course I know them. They’re two of the best fighters in the country.”
“And their power is the reason their identity remains a secret. But Baron is getting older and more aware of his true abilities.”
“Did you say abilities?” Zion asked, raising his chin upwards. “He has more than one?”
The old man nodded and closed his eyes in unison. “Baron, in fact, has both abilities from his parents. He has both extreme speed and immeasurable strength.”
“That is very rare, but he cannot be more powerful than the Black Sorcerer.”
“He is still young and therefore does not use his power for anything out of the ordinary. I do not believe the terrible magician has discovered who the boy is.”
Zion turned his head away. “He will find out eventually. And he will use it to his advantage.”
“Indeed. Sooner rather than later, Baron will need to learn how to wield his powers to defend himself. He may not be an ordinary kid, but in a world with abilities and magic, sorcerers and villains are gaining power. Sheltering him at home until he is older is not the best plan. He needs to experience the world and learn to use his true power.”
“So, what?” Zion asked, confused. He rubbed a hand through his black goatee, hanging just below his chin. “Are you going to bring him here?”
The old wizard shook his head. “Not yet. I will watch him and see why he possesses this powerful force. There is a reason why I feel that force. There is a reason why a fourteen year old boy with the rare gift of two abilities radiates more power than the Black Sorcerer or even you, Zion.”
Zion looked up at the old man, lowered his eyebrows, and turned his head to the left to face a wooden wall. “Destroy!” The pine split in half. The room shook, and the wall crumbled down.
“Repair wall,” said the old man. The wood flowed back together, seamlessly fitting like a video on rewind. “What was your purpose for doing that, Zion?”
“To prove to you magic is powerful. The kid may have a couple abilities, but I can do a lot more than he can.” The bald man folded his arms, breathing heavily.
The old man placed his hands on the floor and straightened his elbows. He pulled one leg out, rested his knee on the ground, and shifted his weight. His left leg extended, and he stood up. “You are a strong warrior, Zion. He is only a kid. Do your job and continue searching for the Mortem Apparatus, and I will try to figure out why Baron Baker is the most powerful person on the planet.”
