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Chapters (95)
  1. Title Page
  2. 1
  3. 2
  4. 3
  5. 4
  6. 5
  7. 6
  8. 7
  9. 8
  10. 9
  11. 10
  12. 11
  13. 12
  14. 13
  15. 14
  16. 15
  17. 16
  18. 17
  19. 18
  20. 19
  21. 20
  22. 21
  23. 22
  24. 23
  25. 24
  26. 25
  27. 26
  28. 27
  29. 28
  30. 29
  31. 30
  32. 31
  33. 32
  34. 33
  35. 34
  36. 35
  37. 36
  38. 37
  39. 38
  40. 39
  41. 40
  42. 41
  43. 42
  44. 43
  45. 44
  46. 45
  47. 46
  48. 47
  49. 48
  50. 49
  51. 50
  52. 51
  53. 52
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  60. 59
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  62. 61
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  66. 65
  67. 66
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  70. 69
  71. 70
  72. 71
  73. 72
  74. 73
  75. 74
  76. 75
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  78. 77
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  80. 79
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  86. 85
  87. 86
  88. 87
  89. 88
  90. 89
  91. 90
  92. 91
  93. 92
  94. Also by DAVID KLASS
  95. Copyright Page

“To raise an army,” Kidah says as if it’s the simplest thing in the world. “We must smite the forces of darkness. The spirit of the forest will lead us into battle. And, oh yeah, I also need some lunch.”

79

79

The Mysterious Kidah turns out to be an amiable traveling companion. As we paddle back to the village, he cracks jokes with the monkeys that swing overhead and croons songs to the birds that serenade our boat.

He doesn’t wave a wand and conjure ham sandwiches for lunch or pull an outboard motor out of a hat. But I notice that the current of the river slows. It flowed quickly toward the chasm on the first leg of our journey, but as we head home the current diminishes till the river is perfectly still, allowing us to paddle easily upstream.

I ask Kidah about my father. “He’s a good friend of mine,” the wizard says. “And I’ve known your mother since she was a little girl. What do you want to know?”

Confronted with this potential treasure trove of information about my parents, only one question comes to mind. “I’m their only son, right?”

“Yes. Their only child. They both love you deeply.”

I hear my voice sharpen and swell a little louder. “Then how could they send me away?”

“There was no choice,” Kidah says simply.

“There must have been a choice,” I protest. “There are always alternatives. You just have to find them.”

“Who told you that nonsense?” Kidah asks.

“A mother and a father don’t give up their child,” I respond, and anger rings in my voice. “That’s a given.” Eko listens from the bow of the canoe, but she doesn’t interrupt. “They don’t pop him in a time machine and send him back to be raised by strangers and live a lie.”

“It was your destiny and you have to find a way to accept it,” Kidah tells me gently.

“Then my destiny sucks.”

“Of course it sucks,” he agrees. “Destiny almost always sucks. You can let the weight crush you, or you can accept it. But whatever you do, quit whining about your parents. No boy ever got a better pair.”

He sets his paddle down and a big grin spreads across his face. “And now I may finally get that hot meal.” We come around a bend and I see all the kids and adults of the village waiting on the bank. A roar goes up from them at the sight of us, and Kidah waves and shouts back.

Kidah doesn’t do any wizardly tricks to win their trust or put them in awe. He just hops out of the canoe and greets the tribe members one by one, hugging them and mussing the hair of the kids and pointing to his belly as if to ask when the welcoming feast will start.