Enchanted High Book I
Chapter Thirty-Two: The Cloaked Man

A bird shot past June’s peripheral vision. All she saw of it was a green blur.

James was ahead of her, she followed him towards the direction they had seen the house, with the backpack on her shoulder. She sucked in the juice of the berry, she told herself that this would be the last one, but how could she resist, with the other six in the bag?

‘What if someone stays there?’ James asked.

June looked at the back of his head. ‘Then we will ask for shelter.’

‘Yeah, but what if the person is ...’ he looked for a word, ‘is like those raiders at the Rungee Desert?’

‘Then,’ said June, wiping her hands on her shirt, ‘we will fight them.’

She looked upwards towards sky; the light drops that fell in the morning were replaced by thick, fat drops instead, wetting only James; his hair glittered, soaked by the rain. He shook his head to toss out the wetness.

‘You know,’ said James, as he shifted aside a huddle of leaves, ‘I wouldn’t mind living here myself. In a treehouse like that, with no disturbance.’

June stepped over a twig. She could already picture him; gathering Rainberries for food, collecting water from the lakes. She realized that she wouldn’t mind the life either ... but for how long could a person remain that way? Away from civilization, away from other people, from family. It would get lonely.

‘Tell me again,’ James continued. ‘How are your clothes not soaked?’

‘Because,’ said June, laughing at his soaked clothing, ‘I’m a water manipulator. The water will do as I like.’

‘So what if you’d the water not to soak your friend?’

′If I’d like them not to soak my friend,′ she corrected.

‘Oh come on. I wouldn’t mind a little water, but like this I might get sick.’

June laughed. ‘I can’t,’ she watched as a trickle of a stream dripped from the spine of a leaf; she let it fall on her skin, let it moisten her finger. ‘I never learned how to do that,’ she said. ‘My Aunt says it takes a lot of brain power, focus, and for now, I don’t have that.’

‘Yeah,’ James agreed. ‘From how easily you get distracted?’ he paused. ‘June, as far as I know, you’re the most focused girl I’ve ever met. I say, if you tried that little trick, you’d do it. Maybe not on the first try, but you get the idea.’

June didn’t reply. Instead, she concentrated on her footsteps, fighting the urge to reach into the bag for another fruit. Several moments passed in silence, broken when she heard James gasp. Stepping beside him, she saw it too.

The house they had seen, perched so comfortably on the branch of what could have been the highest tree on the island. Huge rectangular windows were placed around its body; rain poured through them. All around it, covering most of the wood, were greenery, lush and sweet-smelling. As a thunderous breeze swept over them, the tree swayed only faintly, and along with it, the house.

June’s gaze moved across it, her eyes finding an entrance, camouflaging with the hollows that were windows. ‘How do we get up there?’ she asked James.

His eyebrows were furrowed in a frown. He took steps towards the tree, and stepped back again to view it. When he turned to her, his eyebrows were arched. ‘There’s a ladder.’ He moved aside bunches of vines and revealed a stepped, wooden ladder. He began to climb it.

The man stood rigidly before the window, peering into the red world below him.

His face was shadowed by the material of the black cloak he wore, dragging from his head down to the unswept floor. Behind him, the room was in darkness, the only light came from the blazing pool of lava. The air was so heated, that it was difficult to breathe. But the cloaked figure took no notice of these things. His attention was directed to the boy, walking across the dried land.

The cloaked man’s eyes flared with anger. When he spoke, his voice echoed even after he had closed his mouth. ‘How did he get here?’

The man behind him shrunk back with fear. He summoned his voice from the depths of his throat: ‘I don’t know,’ he said; the words wavered, ‘I changed the settings on all of their watches –’

The cloaked man raised a hand sharply, silencing the other. They both looked back down, through the window, to the boy, tanned, dark haired, and juggling balls of fire. ‘He’s the fire manipulator.’

The other man nodded. ‘Looks like, sire.’

The cloaked man pressed his brittle lips together. ‘Where are the others?’

‘I – I don’t know.’

The cloaked man curled his fingers around a batch of his clothing. He needed to find a way to stop the boy from getting to the volcano, to cut off his resources, or capture him unconscious. There seemed to be only one possible solution.

His eyes shined with malice and pleasure as his gaze landed on a pool of lava, fresh, hot and bubbling, not too far from the boy. He mouth opened, revealing white teeth that contrasted with the rest of his demeanor, in a satisfied grin.

‘I think it’s time to summon my friend.’

Does this ‘house’ seem familiar yet? No? I’ll wait another chapter before I give you a little history lesson. I found it quite fascinating myself.

Love from all the fur on my back,

--THUG.

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