A/N: Ahh, I'm a bit late . . . like, a week. So sorry for the wait, all. :S

The train rattled along, merrily and cheerfully as the passengers aboard it were. Women and men and children alike had their share of conversation, enjoying the luxury of their respective coaches. William, himself, sat in his seat, surrounded by a small group of children, who looked at him with fascination. Upon closer inspection, a passerby might notice that he dazzled the children with his trusty deck of cards, once again putting his magical side to work. As he pulled the card from under the hat of a little boy in the front, the rest of the children gasped and "ooh"ed with awe at the foreigner's act.

"How'd you do that, mister?" they chirped, all coming at him at one time. William widened his eyes at their sudden and eager approach, laughing nervously. After all, a crowd of curious children can be a daunting thing.

"Simple," he stammered, not coming off as confidently as before. "Just a little . . ." he gasped dramatically, fanning the cards with a flick of his wrist, ". . . magic."

"Oooh," the children all breathed, their eyes getting as big as dinner plates.

"Can you throw them like weapons?" asked a chubbier, freckled boy in front.

"I want to see them change colors!" cried a tiny blonde girl.

"No, no, turn them into flowers!" shouted another girl with braids. "I saw a man do that once."

"Make them pokey and put them on the seats!" snickered another little boy.

"I want to see them all burst into flame!" cried a passionate little girl with black pigtails and a green newsboy cap.

"Children, children, please!" called William, holding up his hands. He looked at the few adults behind them, seeking help. He knew well, however, that the adults were just as eager as the children to find out what the mystical man had up his sleeve. He settled them down with a few hushings and hand gestures.

"Let me tell you a secret," he began, whispering as though no one else could hear him. "Magic can be done by anyone."

"Anyone?" the children collectively whispered. William nodded.

"The secret is this: never stop believing in the power of magic," the young man whispered. "You'll never know quite where you'll . . ." -he snapped his fingers- "find it."

He pointed to the woman behind the children, who wore a floppy yellow hat. As she nonchalantly turned her head, the queen of hearts appeared among the poofy feathers. Just as the children began to get excited again, the train whistle blew.

"Next stop, Pennsylvania station!" the conductor cried. "All young members of Miss Briar's orphanage, please exit the coach in an orderly fashion!"

Much to his surprise, all of the children sauntered off, upset that they had to leave the strange man and his magic. William chuckled and put his cards back into the deck, awkwardly asking the woman for his card back. She gladly gave it to him, complimented him on his way with the children, and let him sit back down in his seat. For a little while, he couldn't stop smiling.

It felt as though the train had been rattling on for the longest time. It was only a few days, but it seemed like so much longer. The ambitious young man had been eager to arrive in California—after all, he'd heard so many things about it. It was such a promising place, as he'd originally thought of all of America. But there was the catch—what if California wasn't everything he had been hoping for? William shook his head at the thought. He may as well hope for the best; there hadn't been a lot of time to worry when Edgar sent him away.

The temperature of the coaches rose considerably, and more ladies had been pulling out their fans and waving them at their faces, desperate for a bit of relief from the desert heat. They had reached the southern part of America in a matter of roughly a week, making stops less frequently. William grew tired very quickly of the desert scenery, at first amazed that this land could be so dried-out and dead, then realizing that it was certainly not pretty. The young man's mind began to wander, wondering how he could improve on his act. After all, if the crowds of New York hadn't been bowled over by his performance, how could he expect to impress the people of San Francisco?

A series of shouts came from the front of the train and soon spread to the passengers, becoming panicked voices. Curious and almost eager for some excitement, the young man scrambled to his feet. He joined the crowd that piled up on the side of the train.

"What's happening?" William asked an older man, whose eyes were wide and looking out the open window.

"Look down there!"

William's great height enabled him to crane his neck out over the other passengers. He squinted through his glasses, wondering if the sight was a mirage. There, just ahead, was a wagon, stuck on the tracks. As the train approached it at an alarming rate, it became apparent that it was a circus wagon.

"Tell the driver to stop!" screamed the passengers. "Stop the train!"

As if on cue, the brakes screeched, propelling all the passengers forward. Some were fortunate enough to be caught by the seats, others tumbled down the aisle. William was not so fortunate as his stick-like legs gave out under him. He grabbed onto the seat as he started to fall, hoping not to land on someone else as they all flew ahead of him. The people who had their heads out of the windows immediately pulled them back in, averting their eyes.

Thud.

No one had time to think about the sudden stop. As soon as the train went quiet, the coach began, ever so slowly, to tilt onto its side.

Chaos ensued. William would have covered his ears if he hadn't been focused on seizing something stable. People screamed, fully aware of the situation, and terrified of the outcome. Luggage and passengers alike all fell to the right side of the train, some people being struck by falling bags and trays. William looked up—or where he assumed to be up—to see a heavy object careening towards him. He dodged the object, allowing it to crash through the window. Just as the window shattered, William felt another object hit him at full force, shooting him into an oblivion—straight out of the broken window. A woman screamed as William looked up, realizing that the coach was making ready to fall on top of him. Without a second thought, he scrambled to avoid it, allowing it to come crashing down at the ground next to him. William breathed in the large cloud of dust and sand, hacking and wheezing as it filled his lungs. Choking, the man kept his face low to the ground, his world spinning around him.

The silence woke the magician. Just as he came to, the man realized that there should have been people scattered about, perhaps even helping him up or fanning his face. But no, he woke up covered in sweat and dirt, the train coach still just as it had been—toppled over. The only problem was the silence. How could they have missed him?

As William hoisted himself up, his side sore from whatever had hit him before, he came to another odd realization: he was at the front of the train, and his luggage sat right beside him. A sound, like a record very slowly crackling to a start, hit his ears. William whirled around to see the circus wagon, colorfully in shambles.

"How-?"

Did someone forget about him? Had no one seen him throughout the wreckage of the train? Where had everyone gone off to? Did something scare them off? Had he dreamed the whole thing? No, surely not. Now was not the right time to panic.

These thoughts tumbled around in the magician's mind. He found himself pacing around the wreckage, trying to collect himself. As he did so, his foot caught on something hard and heavy, tripping him.

"Blast-!"

He toppled to the ground rather ungracefully, sticking out his hands to catch himself. He scowled at whatever had tripped him, as though it were intentionally doing so. William assumed it was the heat that made his ears catch the sound of something giggling.

"Who's there?"

There was no answer. William frowned and brushed the sand from the object, revealing it to be a book. It was faded to a shade of gray, with a bright red "M" over the cover.

"Aperire."

The whisper startled Will. His head snapped upward, knowing for certain that he'd heard the sound.

"Who's that?"

"Aperire, puer."

William looked all around him. Not a single person, or being, was in sight.

"I'm hearing things already," he muttered. He blew the dust and sand from the book, slowly peeling the cover from the pages, as though it were stuck. He flipped through the pages, his young, curious eyes widening at the inscriptions and the pictures.

"Why, what is this?"

Strange markings were scattered about the crisp papers, as well as objects that the young man had never seen before. He began leafing through the book, the only thing taking his eyes away from it being the gust of sandy wind that flew into his eyes.

"Right," he said, shutting the book and rubbing his eyes. "I need help."

With that, he picked up his luggage and began to walk into the distance, following the railroad tracks. All the while, he kept the book with him, flipping through as he walked. He read anything that he could, reciting incantations unlike any other that he'd heard before. The words on the pages, with each word, shuffled around, as though pleased with him.

Whatever it was, wherever it came from, the book captured his attention as though he were madly in love. Who knows what possibilities it could hold?

A/N: For those wondering:

Aperire - "open"

Puer - "youth; child"