Chapter 3

Window on a New World

Ethan awoke the next morning having slept more peacefully than he had in at least a week. The storm the previous night had cleared away much of the humidity and Sunday dawned clear and much cooler. As he looked around his room, Ethan felt somehow different than he had one day earlier. At first he didn't know why this was, but as he reached for his glasses and slipped them on, his eyes fell upon Magical Beginnings and all of the previous day's strangeness came back to him. What he remembered most of all was the feeling that he was about to be let in on a mystery that had baffled him all of his short life.

Ethan got up and dressed quickly, then ran downstairs. He found that he was the only one up in the house, except for Mungo. All was quiet. Ethan knew he couldn't let on that he'd heard the conversation the previous night, so he had no choice but to wait for the adults to arise. Momentarily disappointed, Ethan poured himself some juice and cereal and sat at the kitchen table eating breakfast. The familiar form of Mungo approached from the living room and the scruffy old cat slid around Ethan's legs under the table.

"That tickles!" Ethan said as Mungo jumped up into the next chair and looked quizzically at the boy.

Ethan looked over at the cat and said to Mungo, "I suppose you're in on whatever this secret is, too?" Ethan was almost sure that Mungo had nodded at him. Mungo sat watchfully as Ethan finished his cereal.

Ethan put his dishes in the sink, went up and got The Lord of the Rings and sat down in the living room to read. Half an hour later, around 8 o'clock, he heard his mother come down the stairs.

"Well, you're up early, Ethan!" she said. "You must have gotten a good night's rest."

"Yeah, mom, I really did," he replied. "I don't think I could have slept another minute."

"I see you've had breakfast already," his mother said. "I suppose you're planning to go out for a ride soon."

"Well, actually, Mom, I thought I'd just stick around the house today...at least until it's time to go to the ball game."

Diana got the breakfast foods out and set the table.

Ethan continued reading as the other adults came down and had breakfast. He thought they seemed uncommonly quiet this morning.

Ethan found it difficult to remain patiently watchful, but he was determined not to give his parents an excuse to put off the discussion he'd heard them promise the night before. Finally, Diana began clearing the breakfast dishes and the others came into the living room. His father came over to the chair where Ethan had stretched out with the Tolkien book in his lap.

"Well, son, how's the book look?" he asked. "Think you'll finish it this week?"

"It looks interesting, Dad," Ethan replied honestly. "But I doubt I'll be able to read it that fast!"

Bertrand and Eilonwy sat down on the couch across the room and contrived to have a conversation about the shrubs just outside the window. Ethan had never known them to take the slightest interest in the Lloyds' grounds before. Griffin sat down in the chair next to Ethan's and flipped through the previous day's newspaper. When his mother finished washing the dishes and the last coffee mug was in the drying rack, she also sat down in the living room, on the other side of Ethan. She grabbed a book off the coffee table, one that had been there for many months and had never been opened. Ethan felt a strange thrill of anticipation, knowing that the adults were working up their courage to speak to him. He found their behavior both amusing and disconcerting. Amusing because he knew why they seemed restless and uncomfortable, disconcerting because he wanted them to get on with it, to tell him what was going on. He also felt angry and confused, angry because he knew his parents had been keeping secrets from him and confused because he had grown up trusting his parents and believing that they had always been honest with him.

Griffin put the newspaper on the coffee table and cleared his throat loudly. The Belangers abruptly stopped talking to each other and turned to face the Lloyds. Diana slid the book she'd been skimming back onto the coffee table and turned to face Ethan.

"Ahem!" Griffin cleared his throat again. "How are you today, Ethan?"

"Fine, dad!" he answered, and he added slyly, "But I should tell you, now that my eleventh birthday's been and gone, I do feel somehow different."

"Really, that's interesting," Griffin replied, clearly not expecting that answer. "Because, well...I mean, your mother and I have something important to discuss with you, Ethan."

"OK, Dad," Ethan answered, putting his book down and sitting up straight in his chair. "There's nothing wrong, is there?"

"Oh, no, Ethan," his mother interjected. "Nothing wrong. It's just, there's something we need to let you know about..."

"About our family history and who you really are," Eilonwy added from across the room.

For a moment, Ethan wondered whether he'd misunderstood what he'd overheard the night before; maybe the explanation was much simpler than he'd thought. Yes, he thought, that must be it. He burst out, "Am I adopted, dad? Am I really a Lloyd?"

The adults were momentarily speechless, then Diana burst out laughing, "Oh, my dear Ethan! No, that's not it...you are not adopted! You're a Lloyd and we are really your parents! Take it from me; I remember your arrival very well."

"What your parents need to tell you is that you are very much a Lloyd," Uncle Bertrand said. "And that is a very complicated thing to be."

"You may find this hard to believe, Ethan, but it's true," Griffin resumed. "None of us in this room are as ordinary as we might appear...including you. In fact, I'm a wizard, son, and you are too, we believe. So is Great Uncle Bertrand."

"And Aunt Eilonwy and I are witches, Ethan," his mother added.

"What do you mean, we're wizards?" Ethan asked, sounding skeptical although within he was beginning to feel as though he might finally be able to make sense of his life. "What do you mean, you're a witch, Mom? You've never done any Wiccan stuff at all."

Bertrand harrumphed at the mention of Wiccans. "You mean those people who call themselves witches and worship tree trunks and waterfalls? They've nothing to do with real magic...or with us. They're just a bunch of muggles playing at magic," he said contemptuously.

"Muggles?" Ethan asked.

"That's a name for non-magic folks, Ethan," his father explained. "Or to put it another way, ordinary people, just as we've pretended to be for 14 years now."

"You're going too fast, Griffin," Diana said. "You'd better start at the beginning or he'll be more confused than he is already."

"OK, OK...Ethan, what you've got understand first of all is that there are some people in the world who are born with the ability to do what most people would call 'magic', " Griffin explained. "Magic folk have been around as long as the world itself has. But they found that muggles didn't understand these magical powers, especially in Europe and North America after the rise of science. And what humans don't understand, they often fear needlessly. Witches and wizards, as well as other muggles who were accused of being witches and wizards, were persecuted and often killed. So the magic folk decided to live apart from muggles to survive. For centuries now, we've gone to great lengths to avoid being detected by muggles. But sometimes young wizards and witches fall in love with a muggle. My mother's father was a wizard who fell in love with and married a muggle girl. My grandmother was the last muggle in the family. Your mother's family has been all witches and wizards for seven generations."

"Wait a minute," Ethan said. "So the stuff in Magical Beginnings is real? All that stuff about accidental magic?"

"Ah, yes, it is," said his father.

"And I've done magic, haven't I?" asked Ethan. "I mean, that's how Pete and I got away from Erik's gang, isn't it?"

"In all probability, yes," Griffin answered.

"And there were other times, too," Ethan continued. "And you knew all along, didn't you? But what if I'd hurt someone doing magic? And wait a minute...if witches and wizards are supposed to live away from normal people, then what are we doing here in Madison in the first place?"

All of the adults winced at Ethan's use of the term "normal."

"Now slow down, young man," Uncle Bertrand interjected. "One question at a time. Your father can explain all of this."

"Yes, I think I can," Griffin asserted. "If everyone will be patient and listen. Now, most of my ancestors lived in Wales, a part of the world with more than its share of magic folk. But over a century ago, lots of people from Wales--magic and muggle--moved to America, and quite a few came to Wisconsin."

"Yeah, I learned about that when we went to Taliesin," Ethan said.

"And even the Welsh muggles had a reputation for being, shall we say, different from the rest of the settlers."

"Like Frank Lloyd Wright, you mean?"

"Well, yes, but he's only the best known...especially his mother's family, the Lloyd Joneses," Griffin said. "Anyway, our branch of the Lloyds settled in a quiet valley near Spring Green and there we lived for the next several generations. And that's where Llewellyn Lewes Lloyd was born over a century ago."

"But you said that magic folk weren't allowed to live among muggles. So how did they manage to stay there all those years?" Ethan asked.

"You're right, back in 1692, the International Council of Wizards decided that magic and muggle folk couldn't live together," Griffin said. "But it's never been completely feasible to avoid muggles and the segregation isn't always physical. You see, we can use magic to prevent muggle folk from knowing where we live or what we do in our everyday lives. To the other inhabitants of Spring Green, the Lloyds' little valley just seemed to be an uninhabited, infertile section. The only muggle to even visit our homestead over the years was my mother's mother and even she wouldn't have been able to find the house without my grandfather's help."

"And you'll learn, Ethan, that muggles often choose not to see things they don't understand," Uncle Bertrand added. "That fact, combined with various spells, is usually enough to keep our doings from muggle notice. And when a muggle sees something they shouldn't, we have some very useful ways to help them forget."

Summer birds sang their songs outside the window; it was a clear, bright morning, warm but without the stickiness of the previous week. Ethan heard the sound of rotating blades and knew that Pete Abrams was out mowing the lawn next door. A car moved slowly by the house. The neighborhood noises crowded in on Ethan and led him to his next question. For though he didn't fully understand what his father had told him so far, he had accepted what he'd been told. Unless both of his parents and the Belangers were pulling his leg or they'd all gone completely mad, he had to believe it. But that didn't explain what they were doing living on Jenifer Street.

"But, if what you've told me is right," Ethan began, "then you...and I, too, shouldn't be here, should we, Mom and Dad? I mean, Pete and his parents aren't wizards, are they? Why are we living with... muggles? And why haven't you told me any of this before today?"

Diana stirred, and she spoke. "Those are the hardest questions to answer, Ethan. And some of the answers won't mean much to you. But we will answer them, because you need to begin to know, for soon you will have a decision to make. Let me take up the story for a bit."

Ethan looked at her, eager and full of wonder. Griffin nodded to her and she continued.

"While your father was growing up in Wisconsin, I was doing the same with my family in New York State, in the Hudson Valley. The Bones family had settled there before the Revolution, and I can't trace a single muggle among my ancestors. Now wizards and witches are mostly home schooled when they're young, and so it was for me until I turned 11. Then, I went off to a boarding school not too far from my home...my two older brothers were already there. And there at the Kaaterskill Academy of Magic, I spent the next seven years learning the skills of a witch. And there I met your father, when we were both 11."

"And as I recall, it wasn't exactly love at first sight, was it?" Eilonwy said.

"Oh, no, not at all. I thought your father was far too weedy at first. And he seemed to spend all his time with his head in the clouds."

"And I thought your mother was an insufferable know-it-all for the first four years we were at Kaaterskill," added Griffin. "It wasn't until our fifth year there that we both finally began to notice the good things about the other."

Another strand of understanding flashed in Ethan's brain. "So that's why everyone keeps telling me being 11 is special!"

"That's right, dear," Diana continued. "But let me tell you a bit more before we talk about that. Now, we might as well tell you now: not all wizards are good, Ethan, any more than all human beings are good. And all the while we were in school, there was a battle brewing between the good wizards and the evil. The evil wizards wanted to dominate all wizardkind first and to make sure that only those of "pure" magical heritage be educated as witches and wizards. Then it is thought that they wanted to use magical powers to control the muggle world as well. The leader of these evil ones was an English wizard, whose name is almost never mentioned aloud. But I am going to tell it to you, that you may have the courage to defy his evil as we have. He was called Voldemort."

Diana had said the name resolutely, but Ethan could see it had taken some effort on her part. The Belangers had cringed and his father looked down at the floor at the sound of the name. Ethan fancied that the sun had gone behind the clouds for a moment just as Diana spoke the name.

"And by the time Griffin and I graduated from Kaaterskill, there were two things we both knew. First, that we wanted to be married and raise a family together. And second, that we wanted to fight against the evil wizards. And so we were apprenticed in the Department of Magical Law Enforcement to become aurors, hunters of dark wizards. And just about 14 years ago, the department found out that Voldemort had sent some of his followers to the island of Newfoundland in search of a legendary power that could help him in his quest for domination. Your father and I were sent to thwart them, along with a dozen other aurors."

"This was the most important mission any aurors had ever been sent on," Eilonwy added. "It was vital to stop You-Know-Who from getting that weapon on his side."

"Did he get it?" Ethan asked, half-consciously recalling his dream. His father clenched his fists involuntarily.

"No, dear, the aurors stopped him," Diana told him and then continued with difficulty. "But...we were the only two to survive the ordeal. To this day, we're not sure how we managed it when the others fell."

"You have to understand some things about your parents, Ethan," Bertrand interrupted. "First, they are courageous. Second they are loyal. Third, they are among the most skilled wizards and witches in the world. They could not have survived their ordeal were they not. And fourth, they don't believe the first three things themselves most of the time."

"Bertrand's right about that, Ethan," Aunt Eilonwy added. "And because they knew a great deal more about the power that You-Know-Who sought, it was extremely dangerous for them in our world after the battle. For if he had the knowledge that they had gained, he would have been far more powerful. And so they decided, with the help of their old headmaster at Kaaterskill, to do the reverse of what wizards have done for centuries. Instead of avoiding muggles, they decided to come here and live as muggles, protected from observation by other wizards and witches by some very complex spells."

"And so here we've been for nearly the last fourteen years," Griffin said. "At first we had a great deal of difficulty, for there are so many differences between the way magic folk and muggles do everyday things. Just cooking dinner was a real challenge, getting on the bus to go to work was a revelation, understanding the electric lights and appliances was all new, and even getting used to the money they use wasn't easy."

"Wait a minute, dad," Ethan said, suddenly incredulous. "You mean magic folk don't have electricity? What about cars? Is that why we've never had one?"

"No, we don't have electricity or cars," his father replied. "We'd already developed magical solutions to all of the things muggles use them for. We were always taught that those things were developed by muggles because they couldn't use magic. You'd be surprised at all the things magic can do, Ethan."

"You know, Ethan," Eilonwy said. "The fact that you find this so difficult to believe means that your parents adjusted very well to life as muggles. Your uncle and I never cease to be amazed at your...technology, is that what it's called, Griffin?"

"But what happened to Vol...," Ethan stopped in the midst of his question when he saw the adults become tense, "I mean, You-Know-Who? Are you still hiding from him?"

"He was defeated by the most unlikely person imaginable," his father answered. "An infant, just over one year old at the time. That was nearly fourteen years ago. But nobody has ever been sure that he was gone for good. And indeed, word reached us only yesterday that he may have reappeared at last."

Ethan's mind went back a day to the robed strangers at the crosswalk.

"Wait, I think I heard something about that," he told his parents breathlessly. "I was on the way back from the park yesterday. There were all these people in dark robes talking among themselves, blocking the way. I had to wait behind them. I thought they were just the usual Madison characters, but it made me feel strange. But then I was sure they said someone should warn you about something...they said "the Lloyds," I'm certain. I felt that I needed to speak to them. But when I looked to see where they'd gone after crossing, I couldn't see them. They just vanished. So there are other wizards and witches here in town too!"

"There are a few who know we're here," Diana said. "Even they couldn't find their way to this house unless we brought them ourselves. But they have ways of communicating with us in an emergency."

"You're sure they were just out on the street discussing such things, Ethan?" Griffin asked. "It worries me that they would be so caught up in it that they'd risk that out among muggles. Oh well, the important thing is that one of them did get the warning to us. I'm not sure that it changes much, but it's best to know all the possible dangers. Ethan, are you all right?"

Ethan had covered his face with his hands. The birds were still singing outside, he could still hear Pete pushing the mower, and life was going on much as it always did. But suddenly Ethan felt that everything that had seemed so ordinary and concrete was actually a wispy dream, a figment of his imagination. He almost felt weightless himself, as if he might just float off into space if he didn't hold onto something.

"No, I'm not all right, OK," he blurted out, raising his head again. "I mean I've been living here for 11 years and I thought I knew who I was, and who you were, and even if I didn't always understand life, I thought I belonged here. But now, I don't know anything it seems. I'm a wizard, whatever that means, and so are you, and mom's a witch. And you're hiding from the evil wizards and their leader is back. So I guess that means that I've been hiding from them since I was born, even though I didn't know it until today. And he wants to catch you, and the people who are supposed to be helping you hide are standing around on Willy Street talking about it. No, I really don't think I'm all right."

Griffin shifted uneasily in his chair. Diana looked stricken and remained silent. Finally, Bertrand spoke.

"Ethan, we all know you didn't choose any of this, and it's natural for you to be confused, even angry. But there are many things that we cannot choose. All we can do is to decide what to do with the life we've been given. Your parents love you more than anyone or anything in the world. Their one thought throughout your life has been how to protect you from the evil that they had witnessed. But parents can only protect their children for a time and then they have to trust that they have raised them with enough sense and courage and brains to look out for themselves. You have almost reached that age and I think that they may be surprised at just how much they can trust you. You have a decision to make, now that you know the truth. Griffin, I think you should give him his letter."

Ethan watched as his parents exchanged glances. Diana had recovered her usual demeanor and nodded to her husband.

"This came for you yesterday, Ethan," Griffin said. "We waited to give it to you until you knew enough to understand what it's about. Go ahead and read it."

He handed Ethan a small, yellowish envelope. Ethan, still not too certain of himself, took it and opened it. Inside was a letter addressed to him. He pulled it out and read:

"Kaaterskill Academy of Magic

Headmaster: Cyrus Flyte

(Order of Merlin, 1st Class, Envoy to the International Council of Wizards, Fellow, American Order of Sorcery,President, Society for the Prevention of Cruelty to Magical Creatures)

July 12, 1995

Master Ethan Lloyd
12 Jenifer Street
Madison, Wisconsin
United States of America

My dear Master Lloyd,

We are pleased to inform you that you have been selected for admission to Kaaterskill Academy of Magic.

Enclosed please find a list of all necessary books and equipment.

Term begins the Wednesday following Labor Day. We await your decision, to be transmitted by owl no later than July 31.

Respectfully yours,

Herodotus Bancroft

Director of Admissions,

Professor of the History of Magic"

He continued to look at the letter, as if he hoped that it would somehow answer all the questions racing through his mind. Finally, he asked," How do they know about me? I mean, I never applied to go there."

His father replied, "You'll find that some magic folk have ways of knowing things like where there are 11-year old wizards and witches. Even when their parents are pretending to be muggles. For that matter, even if their parents are muggles. They've probably known about you since you were born, Ethan."

"So this is the school you and Mom went to, right? It's way out East somewhere, you said."

"It's in the Catskill Mountains, along the Hudson River in New York State," Diana replied. "One of the most beautiful spots in the world."

"What's it like? It must not be much like Marquette...these books on their list sound pretty weird."

"Well of course they sound weird to you now," Griffin said. "At Kaaterskill, they take in students with magical talents and teach them how to use them to the best of their ability. Not exactly the kind of thing the public schools are going to cover."

"I'd probably be the only one there without a clue to what being a wizard is," Ethan said glumly. "Why do they want me to come, anyway? I'll just make a fool of myself."

"No, you'd be surprised, Ethan," his mother countered. "First, a lot of the children with wizard parents have very little idea how to do magic before they get to Kaaterskill. Second, a fair number of the students are muggles' children who didn't have any more idea than you that they were wizards. And I doubt you'd make a fool of yourself...there's too much of your father in you, and a bit of your mother. I don't think you'll have too much trouble, son."

"But...," Ethan began then stopped to reflect a moment before continuing. "I know I haven't always fit in here, especially at school. But Madison is what I know. My friends are here. I don't really want to go away and leave them here. And what would I tell Justin and Pete and Ryan...what would you tell the Principal at school. I mean, if I told them I was going to an Academy of Magic, they'd look at me cross-eyed, and the school would send me to see the guidance counselor."

"You're right about your friends," Diana said. "We'd have to leave out the magic and say something about it being a family tradition. As for the school staff, well, we would probably have to resort to a bit of magic to get their approval, but it can be done."

"You mean you'd find a way to fool the principal?" Ethan asked, grinning at the thought. "I can't believe you'd do something like that, Mom."

"Well we don't do such things often, but sometimes we have to," Griffin said. "After all, we had to invent all sorts of credentials and personal history when we moved here. For starters, the University doesn't recognize a diploma from a magical academy when hiring librarians."

"I still don't know. I mean it's so far away, and I know so little about it," Ethan said, hesitating.

"Yes, but you know very little about yourself, really," Uncle Bertrand said. "Kaaterskill is the only place you'll find answers to the questions you have, Ethan, and I know you have questions...the hows and whys of who you are. And who you can be. You won't discover that by going along at your muggle school. We can sit here and try to explain, but we can only do so much. You need to be in a school where they'll accept your magic as a gift and help you develop and hone it."

"Can I think about it, Dad?" Ethan asked, still indecisive. "Do I have to decide right now?"

"You can take some time," Griffin replied. "Not too long, though. What does the letter say? "

"We await your decision, to be transmitted by owl no later than July 31," Ethan read aloud. "That's almost three weeks still."

"We trust you can make a decision in a few days," Griffin said. "No point in dragging it out to the deadline."

"What does he mean, "transmitted by owl, Dad?"

"Oh, that," Griffin said with a slight grin. "You'll find that wizards don't use normal postal delivery, Ethan. An owl delivered this letter, and whatever you decide, your reply will go back via an owl."

Ethan was speechless, for neither the first nor the last time that day. He looked again at the second sheet of paper that had been tucked into the envelope. He shook his head as he read down the page, for this was the strangest list of school supplies he'd ever seen:

Kaaterskill Academy of Magic

Required Books and Supplies-First Years

Textbooks

Miranda Goshawk, The Standard Book of Spells (Grade 1)

Demos P. Lockridge, Magic in North America, from 1000 BC

Adalbert Waffling, Magical Theory

Arsenius Jigger, Magical Drafts and Potions

Newt Scamander, Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them

Euell Crockett, Magical Plants of the Americas and Their Uses

Emeric Switch, A Beginners' Guide to Transfiguration

Harmony Townsend, Living with Magic: an Ethical Primer

Knox Harter, Light in the Darkness: Strategies for Defense against the Dark Arts

School Attire

First year students will need:

1. Three sets of plain work robes (black)

2. One plain pointed hat (black)

3. One pair of protective gloves (dragon hide or similar)

4. One winter cloak (black, silver fastenings)

Please ensure that all pupils' clothing is identified with name tags.

Equipment

1 wand

1 cauldron (pewter, standard size 2)

1 set glass or crystal phials

1 telescope

1 set brass scales

Animals

Each student may bring ONE animal: either an owl, a toad or a cat.

PARENTS ARE REMINDED THAT ALL OTHER ITEMS REQUIRED FOR INSTRUCTION OR EXTRACURRICULAR ACTIVITIES OF FIRST-YEAR STUDENTS ARE PROVIDED BY THE ACADEMY. ON NO ACCOUNT SHOULD OTHER ITEMS, INCLUDING BROOMSTICKS, HERBS OR POTIONS, BE SENT FROM HOME.

"Umm, Mom and Dad?" Ethan asked. "Do the students at Kaaterskill really wear robes and pointy hats all the time?"

"Not all the time, dear," his mother said. "Robes definitely for classes, the library, weekday meals and school gatherings. The hats are mostly used on special occasions--the opening assembly, the Halloween feast, a few others. But what you might call "regular" clothes are fine on weekends and in the dormitories in the evening, and maybe other times now--I hear things have gotten a bit more relaxed since we were in school."

"And the part about the wand and broomsticks ...is that for real?"

"Definitely for real, Ethan," his father answered. "A wand is the most important tool a wizard can own. Though broomsticks come in very handy, too. Of course there are other ways to travel, but that works well for short to medium distances."

Ethan still searched his parents' faces for some sign that this was a gigantic post-birthday joke. Finally, satisfied that they were serious but still finding it all hard to believe, he exclaimed, "Gosh, and all this time I thought those were just stories to scare kids at Halloween. Pete and Justin will never believe this!"

Bertrand chuckled a bit, and then said, "Spoken like a true muggle, Ethan. If I didn't know that you're Griffin and Diana Lloyd's son and that you've already done magic, I would guess we'd made a huge mistake."

"Seriously, though, son," Griffin added. "I'm afraid that you can't tell your friends any of these details. They'll have to be satisfied that Kaaterskill is just a boarding school out East that our family has attended for generations. It's very important, both for your muggle friends and for magic folk."

"Of course, it won't hurt," said Aunt Eilonwy, "that if you did tell them they would think you had gone completely mad, my child."

At this Ethan looked thoughtful, but said nothing more. Although he appeared calm, the thoughts running through his mind were confused and contradictory. He realized that he could now explain many of the odd feelings that had nagged him. He now knew that he really was different from his friends. He also remembered that he'd always thought his family led a life so ordinary it verged on boring and that his daydreams had always involved going on heroic adventures. Suddenly he'd discovered that his stay-at-home parents had known such adventures and had turned their backs on heroism. And Ethan now felt that he'd been born into the middle of the strangest adventure he could imagine. His thoughts then turned to the odd letter from Kaaterskill, and it seemed to Ethan that a window had opened through which he could see a future that would have seemed utterly impossible a day earlier. But just as quickly he thought of his friends: Pete, who he'd known for as long as he could remember, with whom Ethan had shared so much--first trip to the zoo, first bicycle rides, first day at school, even first showdown with bullies; Justin, who'd moved into the neighborhood at the beginning of third grade and whose Dad coached their Little League team; Ryan, whose mom worked with Diana at the Co-op, who'd explored all of Madison's bicycle trails with Ethan, and who shared his obsession with the X-Men. Ethan found it too hard to think about leaving them for a strange school far away. And he sensed that his parents were right; he couldn't even try to explain all of this to his friends. It was hard enough to believe it himself.

The hardest part, Ethan realized, was that, for the first time in his, he had to make a decision for himself: to stay in Madison and to try to ignore what he'd learned about himself or to set out for Kaaterskill and turn his back on everything he'd known in his young life. And he knew it really was up to him; his parents wouldn't make this decision for him. He wondered whether this was what being a grownup was like: having to choose a path without knowing where it would lead in the end. If so, he wasn't sure he was ready to grow up.

The clock had struck eleven o'clock. Pete had stopped mowing, but the birds were still chirping. Everyone was still silent. Ethan felt the adults were waiting for him to say something. Finally, he stood up, looked first at his mother, then at his father.

"I guess you've told me enough for now," he told them. "And I've got some thinking to do. I'll try not to wait too long to make up my mind, Dad. Oh, and thank you for telling me everything." Ethan gave Diana a hug, then walked over to Griffin and did the same to him. Then he crossed over to Eilonwy and Bertrand and hugged each of them.

"Thank you too for helping to explain things," Ethan said. "It helps, it really does."

"There's one other thing we hope you know, Ethan," Griffin said quietly.

"What's that, Dad?" Ethan asked.

"That we both love you very much," his father answered. "Take your time and make the right choice. And know that we'll love you just as much whatever you decide."

"And if you need to talk about it some more," Bertrand said gravely, "we are all willing to do that, Ethan."

"Thanks," Ethan said. "Now if no one minds, I think I'll go look at my birthday presents some more."

The rest of the day passed quietly. Nobody seemed to wish to discuss magic, owls, evil wizards or the letter any further. Griffin spent part of the afternoon painting the house. Diana did housework and the Belangers sat outside in the garden. Ethan spent most of his time in his room, reading The Lord of the Rings and listening to CDs. He decided not to delve further into Magical Beginnings for the time being, for he thought that would only lead to more questions. He was sure he had enough questions in his mind already. He left the book propped up on his bookshelf; every now and then he had an odd feeling that a voice was calling him, encouraging him to pick it up, though. Each time this happened, he looked over at the bookshelf; once or twice he imagined the letters of the title were glowing faintly.

Eventually, he drifted off to sleep, only to find that the book was talking again, this time telling him how easy it would be to use magic to do his homework. Ethan protested that that wouldn't be honest. Then they were joined by a snowy white owl, which flew in through his window wearing a black robe and carrying a wand in its beak. The owl circled the room and landed next to the book. "This is the one, eh?" the owl inquired. "Hardly looks the type to me. Are you sure you're at the right house?" "Well, he doesn't know what to do," the book replied. "That's to be expected; he knows nothing of magic. But he's got more than a talent for magic; he's got character, this one. If he's the one, we'll know by his choice." "I hope you're right," the owl said. "We need to find the right boy soon." At that, the owl flew out the window.

Around 4:30, Marion Abrams called to make sure Ethan remembered the ball game that night. Diana called up to Ethan to remind him, and he woke with a start, half expecting to see the owl outside the window.

Groggy, he gradually figured out what his mother was talking about and sat up with a start.

"Right, mom, I remember now," he said. "I'll be down in a little bit."

"You don't need to rush, dear," Diana said. "You can get something to eat at the ball park."

Ethan would have enjoyed the game in any case, but after the revelations of the morning he really wanted to do something relaxing and normal. He decided he'd go next door a bit early, so he grabbed his baseball hat and glove and headed downstairs about 6 o'clock. Griffin gave him money to cover his ticket, food from the concession stand and something for a souvenir. "One more birthday present," he said, as Ethan went out the door. "Have a good time!"

"Sure will, Dad!" Ethan called over his shoulder. "See you later!"

Although he'd never shown great talent for baseball, Ethan enjoyed the game more than any other. Pete was developing into a good Little League pitcher and shortstop and he was already the best hitter in their grade. They'd both been delighted when the Black Wolf, an independent team, had begun playing in Madison that summer. The Abrams's had been to about a dozen games already and almost every time Ethan had gone along. The Black Wolf were made up of washed-up minor leaguers not ready to give up the dream of playing pro ball, with a leavening of talented youngsters who hadn't been signed by a major league club. Neither Pete nor Ethan cared much that the Black Wolf players were unlikely to make the majors. Ethan in particular saw a parallel between his own less than stellar baseball talents and the Black Wolf. They weren't playing for the money, but for love of the game and for their own long-shot dreams.

On this night the Black Wolf were playing the St. Paul Saints, a team that actually had a couple of former major leaguers on their roster. Ethan and the Abrams family bought their tickets, got programs and headed for their favorite section of bleachers on the first base line. It looked like a good crowd; the change in the weather seemed to have brought a lot of people out to the park. They saw several other friends and schoolmates on their way to their seats. Just as they headed up into the bleachers, Pete nudged Ethan in the ribs and pointed a little further down the right field line. Holding forth in the center of a group of 4 or 5 kids their age was their least favorite person, Erik Brewer, the bully who'd ended up in the Yahara after picking on Pete and Ethan.

"I thought something smelled funny," Ethan said.

"It's a shame they let that gang in," said Pete, "But I suppose their money's as good as anyone else's."

"Yeah, in fact their money probably is someone else's," Ethan replied and they both laughed.

Once they'd found seats, Frank Abrams went to the concession stand to get hot dogs, nachos and drinks for everyone. The Black Wolf took a 2-0 lead in the second inning, only to fall behind 4-2 in the fifth.

An inning later, the Black Wolf's right fielder sent a foul ball over the dugout on the first base side. Ethan and Pete both stuck their gloves up, though it seemed the ball would go past their seats and down the baseline. Inexplicably the ball seemed to take a sharp right turn and...smack! there it was in Pete's glove.

"Good catch, son!" exclaimed Frank Abrams. "That one really hooked. I'm surprised you stayed with it."

Pete looked into his glove, astounded he'd caught anything. Ethan wondered whether his desire to catch a foul had anything to do with the ball's course change. But he let the thought drop as the Black Wolf loaded the bases and their catcher doubled all three runners home. Madison had taken the lead once again and the boys were ecstatic.

Ethan decided this would be a good time to go look for a souvenir. Pete told him he'd be along in a few minutes. Ethan made his way to the sales stand, which was back towards the entrance. After some consideration, he selected a small bat stamped with the Black Wolf name and logo. As he headed back to the bleachers, Ethan heard something like a pig squealing back in a corner between the bleachers and the outside fence. He glanced in the direction of the noise and saw Erik Brewer leaning over something. As Ethan looked more closely, he could see that Brewer was flailing away at a smaller boy who was either on the ground or on his knees.

"Oh come on Evans, just give me the money and you can go," the bully growled.

Ethan had begun inching in the direction of the fight. He looked around and couldn't see that anybody else had noticed. It sounded like St. Paul was rallying again and the crowd noise masked the sounds of Erik and his victim. As Ethan got closer he recognized the smaller boy, who had a bloody nose already, as a fourth-grader named Alec Evans. Evidently Alec, who was one of the kids who'd started following Ethan and Pete around after the dunking incident, wasn't giving in just yet.

"No, Erik, you can't have it. It's mine and I'm not giving it to a bully like you."

"That's too bad, Evans," Brewer said. "But I guess you didn't really want those ribs anyway, did you."

Erik landed two more punches to Alec's ribcage, causing the younger boy to double over in pain.

Ethan didn't know what to do. He really wasn't big enough to take on Erik by himself. He knew the bully had avoided him since his gang's attempt to beat up Ethan and Pete, but that was no guarantee he'd turn tail and run without a fight. Ethan wished Pete had come along with him. Finally he screwed up his courage.

"Leave him alone, Brewer!" he shouted. "Try picking on someone who's your own size for a change."

Erik turned around, which gave Alec a chance to scramble back onto his feet.

"Mind your own business, Lloyd you wimp," he said. "I'll take care of you later, Evans. First it's about time I teach Lloyd here not to mess with Erik Brewer twice." And he started moving towards Ethan.

Ethan had no clear memory of what happened next. He held his souvenir bat out towards Erik. Just then there was a tremendous whoosh from above them and a huge light fixture came crashing down from the standard next to the wall. It landed just behind Erik and large parts bounced off the ground, hitting both the bully and Alec, who'd been too scared to move after Erik had let him up. The huge bulb shattered into hundreds of pieces that showered the ground around the three boys.

Ethan stood rooted to the spot in a state of shock. He saw the other two boys prone on the ground, but he couldn't move to see if they were all right. Oblivious to his surroundings, he heard a voice in the back of his mind pounding, "I didn't mean to do it! I just wanted to stop him from beating up Alec. I didn't mean to hurt anyone!"

In seconds, though it might have been hours as far as Ethan could tell, several things happened. Pete Abrams had been on his way to catch up with Ethan at the souvenir stand when he heard the crash and turned to see his friend standing amidst the wreckage of the giant light. He ran over and found Ethan standing dazed.

"Are you OK, Ethan?" Pete asked weakly.

"Didn't mean...he was punching Alec...just wanted him to stop," Ethan gasped. "Just fell...couldn't stop."

Pete yelled for help, which was hardly necessary as quite a few fans had seen the fixture plunge downward and even more had heard it hit the ground. A dozen or more were right behind Pete, followed quickly by several paramedics and police officers. They found that Alec was conscious and seemingly unhurt except for some minor cuts and his bloody nose. "Don't try to move," the paramedic told the boy. "We have to get you to the hospital to check you over. Just stay calm." Alec seemed perfectly content not to move for the moment.

Another paramedic was examining Erik Brewer, who was lying curled up on his side. His eyes were open, but he was speechless and his face seemed frozen with fear. The paramedic could find nothing wrong but a large bump on his forehead, but he muttered something to a policewoman; she went off in search of another backboard.

Frank and Marion Abrams hurried up, their faces lined with concern.

"Are you two all right? What happened, Pete?" his father asked.

"I don't really know, Dad. I was just going to catch up with Ethan when I heard this huge crash. I looked over here and saw those two on the ground and Ethan standing right here. I think he must be in shock or something."

Ethan was shaking and his face was white as a sheet. Marion Abrams went to him and gave him a hug. "It's all right, Ethan, it's OK," she told him.

"Isn't that Alec Evans over there, Pete?" Frank Abrams asked. "Who's the other boy?"

"That's Erik Brewer. I think Ethan was trying to tell me that Erik was beating on Alec," Pete answered. "He's the biggest bully in our school, Dad. That's who tried to beat me and Ethan up last spring."

A policeman came up to them. "Are you OK, son?" he asked Ethan, seeing that he'd been cut in a few places by flying glass or metal. "Odd thing, that fixture just letting go like that. Lucky no one seems to have been badly hurt."

Hearing the last sentence seemed to snap Ethan out of his daze a bit.

"They're going to be OK, sir?" he asked faintly.

"Yeah, it looks like some cuts and bruises, that's all," the officer replied. "Could have been a lot worse. Listen, son, are you sure you're OK?"

"Yeah, yeah I'm fine," Ethan told him, though he still heard the protesting voices in his head.

"Why don't we see if we can get those cuts tended to, Ethan," Frank Abrams said, and they walked to the first aid station. After having Ethan's wounds cleaned and bandaged, they all headed out to the parking lot to the car; although the game had resumed, none of them really felt like staying.

"I think Ethan needs to get home for some rest," Marion Abrams said. "Let's try not to get Diana and Griffin too upset about this."

On the way back to Jenifer Street, Ethan gradually stopped shivering and regained his usual appearance. Pete asked him in a whisper, "So what were you doing over there, Ethan? Were you trying to break up a fight?"

"I was about to, Pete," Ethan said quietly. "I heard something, like someone was hurt. I looked and saw Brewer beating up Alec. I yelled at him and he was about to start on me. And then..." His voice trailed off; the voice in his head returned and said "and then...you made that light fall didn't you? Yes, very clever; no one would suspect. And besides, it was self-defense, wasn't it?"

Pete only saw his friend stop short and stare off into the western sky, still glowing orange from the summer sunset.

"It's all right, Ethan," Pete tried to comfort him. "Nobody was hurt, really. Though it would have served Brewer right if he had been."

They arrived at the Abrams house and all accompanied Ethan next door. Griffin answered the door and looked startled when Ethan rushed in and hugged him.

"What on earth's up, Ethan?" he asked.

Frank Abrams recounted the incident in as much detail as he could give.

"He's a bit shaken, Griffin, but he's just a bit scratched up. Everyone says they're all very lucky, but then we know Ethan's got the luck of the Welsh, right?"

"Yeah, I guess so," Griffin answered with a faint chuckle. "Thanks for looking after him, Frank. We'll let him rest up and make sure he's OK."

"Good night, Ethan," Pete said as they left. "I'll check up on you tomorrow."

"Thanks, Pete. See ya," Ethan said shakily.

Diana and the Belangers had listened with concern to Frank's description of what had happened at the ballpark. But nobody really said much. Instead, Diana checked the small bandages on his face and arms and then ushered him upstairs to bed. She tucked him in, turned out the light and sat at the edge of his bed for a few minutes, which she hadn't done much lately--he'd outgrown it, so Ethan had thought.

"Mom?" he asked.

"Yes, Ethan?" she answered.

"Umm, I don't know, but...I mean...what happened tonight...I feel like I might have made it happen, you know, by magic. I mean, I didn't want it to happen, but when Erik came after me, I just felt something go through me, almost like an electric shock, and next that thing was falling down on him. Do you think I could have?"

There was brief silence. Then Diana spoke.

"Well, Ethan, if I didn't know what I know about you, I would tell you that's impossible. I'd tell you that people can't just make heavy lamps fall from a hundred feet in the air when they feel threatened by a bully. But in your case, I'd have to say, I don't know. Maybe there was something loose in that fixture that was going to make it fall sooner or later. But then again, it could be that you did make it happen by magic. I can't tell you for sure. You're the best judge of that."

"Thanks, Mom," Ethan said, "Good night."

"Good night, dear," she said as she left the room.

Ethan did not fall asleep quickly. His mind refused to quiet itself. The voice he'd heard on the way home returned and now he recognized it as the voice he'd heard coming from the book Magical Beginnings the day before. Ethan gave a bleary-eyed look at his bookcase and again thought the letters on the book were glowing red. The voice said, "Even your mother thinks you did it. Sounded like she might even be proud of you. Proved you're a chip off the old block, eh?"

"But if I did, then I hurt Alec as well as Erik," he answered miserably. "He didn't deserve any thing. I was trying to protect him."

"Ah, well, accidents can happen when you don't really know what you're doing," the voice told him.

"And what if someone else was there. What if Pete had gotten there a few seconds sooner? I could have hurt him too."

"You're catching on," continued the voice. "Careless is as careless does, they say. Still, it's not your fault if you don't do it on purpose."

"A fat lot of good that will do Pete if I accidentally make a tree fall on him!" Ethan mused. "How can I make sure I never do anything like that again?"

"There is a way, you know," the voice said in a reassuring tone. "You already know what that is, I think."

"I do know...Kaaterskill," Ethan thought. "They teach people how to do magic properly there."

"Very good. Not only do you have the raw talent, you seem to have more common sense than people give you credit for."

"But do I really have to go so far away from my friends to avoid hurting people with magic?"

"Maybe you do. Life is a big adventure anyway. There are new friends you know nothing about waiting for you there. Besides, not only do you have talent and common sense, you know when something feels right. What do you feel now?

"I feel like I'm a danger to anyone around me, even my friends. And if I can do magic, I want to learn to do it well."

"Then you know what to do," the voice said. The letters on the cover of the book faded as Ethan drifted into sleep. For the second night in a row, he slept soundly and had no dreams to remember.