Author's Note: Look who's back: Me! So I don't really have a reason for taking so long with this, but, well, here you go...

Chapter Three

Making a Name for Oneself

For the next two few weeks, James devoted his time to either practice or learning. He found that he had little time for leisure, between lessons every other day—with the weekend off—and his near constant practicing of the new skills he was developing.

Through practicing with Cameron, James had already been able to increase his teleportation range three times, now being able to go miles further than ever before. He crossed the entirety of Dublin in one teleport, and was sure he could go further. He was also improving in his vertical teleports. When he teleported over a skyscraper (the few that he found) he often felt like Superman, leaping over buildings in a single bound.

Emmett's lessons, while admittedly less fun, were just as practical. When he'd first met Emmett, James had had no idea that this man was such an expert in fighting styles. Through Peregrine's tutelage, James had already mastered the basics of Judo and Krav Maga. Kicks, punches, throws, elbows and knees. Peregrine was teaching him all of it. The lessons would often be bookended by stories from either Light or Peregrine—sometimes both—of times they'd needed to use this knowledge to get out of some potentially fatal situations.

On one sunny Wednesday morning, James awoke at eight thirty, teleported to the motel kitchens, and snuck a quick bowl of cereal, before teleporting back to his room. He ate quickly, brushed his teeth, and dressed for his lesson. He was excited, there was no denying it.

Now that he had been advancing at such a good rate, Emmett and Cameron had been throwing in what felt like games. They were training exercises, designed to feel as fun as possible. Two days ago, Light and Peregrine had set up what seemed like a giant soccer (or football, since James was in Ireland now) game between two giant oaks. The trees had reached at least thirty feet in the air, and were double that length apart. Light and Peregrine had taken turns kicking balls at any point in the 60 foot by 30 foot "goal," and James would need to teleport in order to block the shots. At some point, the mentors began sending two balls at a time, which was a good exercise for helping James increase the speed at which he teleported.

And so, at exactly nine o'clock, a very excited James Duran teleported into the foyer of Cameron Light's house. Instead of the usual warm greeting he received from his teachers, today there was no one to welcome him. But there was someone there. James recognized both Cameron and Emmett's voices, coming from the living room. Tiptoeing, James inched towards the sounds of their voices.

The closer he got, he began being able to make out what they were saying.

"…living alone in that shack," came Light's voice, in a hushed tone. "I'd always told him it was foolish."

"You live alone, Cameron," Peregrine reminded him, equally hushed. "And besides, his seclusion would be a factor against this… occurrence."

"Don't call it that," Light said. "Call it what it is."

"I don't want to say it," Peregrine said. "He was a good friend of mine, Cam."

"And mine," agreed Light, and the two lapsed into silence.

James felt that now was as good a time as any to make his presence known. With a small cough to clear his throat, he stepped into the room. The two older men looked at him, surprise on their faces.

"James…" Light said finally, after a rather awkward silence. "We weren't expecting you till nine." James looked at his watch, and it showed that it was two minutes after.

"I was here at nine," James said, slowly making his way into the living room. "How were you not expecting me? A teleporter never loses track of time; you told me that." Light nodded slowly.

"Aye, that I did…" he said slowly. "It's just that…"

"James," Peregrine interrupted quickly. "We're sorry for not being professional. It's just, well… we've received some rather grim news this morning. A friend of ours, a fellow Teleporter by the name of Devon Mirage, he… well, he passed away yesterday."

Immediately, James felt terrible for questioning his mentors. Death was something he was all too familiar with, and as such, he knew that it could take its toll on even the strongest willed.

"Well, actually…" Light said slowly. "He didn't exactly pass away."

"What d'you mean?" asked James, confused. Light took a long, shaky breath.

"Devon Mirage was murdered." James' eye widened in shock. A murder? And a Teleporter, no less. Light and Peregrine had told James that Teleporters were exceptionally hard to kill, as they could flee from an attacker in the blink of an eye.

"Well…" said James, thinking of what to say. "Is there someone on the case?" At this, Emmett rolled his eyes.

"Barely," he groaned. He then turned to Light. "They've put Remus Crux, of all people, on the case." Light's eyes widened in surprise.

"Really?" he asked, genuine confusion coming through in his tone. "That man couldn't solve a cow's murder if he was standing in a slaughterhouse. Why isn't Skulduggery Pleasant on this?" Again, Emmett rolled his eyes.

"He's no better," Peregrine said. "I know that you've only had a few interactions with him, but I've met him enough times to know that he's bad news."

"That may be so," Light said. "But he gets results, or so I've heard." Peregrine crossed his shoulders, and lapsed into silence. James didn't know who these "Crux" or "Pleasant" people were, but based on the way Peregrine talked about them, he didn't feel too keen on making their acquaintance any time soon.

"You know…" Light said suddenly. "This darkness that is surrounding us may provide a perfect window for what we shall do today." He looked to Peregrine, and after a moment of exchanged glances, Emmett nodded. The two stood, and walked over to James.

"Tell me James," said Peregrine. "What do you know about names?" Names? That was an odd question.

"Um… they're what people call you?" he guessed. "Your parents give them to you when you're born?"

"Half right," said Light, drawing Peregrine and James into the kitchen, as he began procuring a pot of tea for the three of them. "You see James, everyone has three names, not just the one. The first is your Given Name. It's the name your parents give you, like you guessed. Your Given Name is James Duran."

"The next name," Peregrine continued. "Is called your Taken Name. For a sorcerer, this is the name that becomes your identity. You see James, names have powers that you wouldn't imagine. If someone knew your Given Name, they would have some control over you."

"You two know my Given Name…" James began wearily.

"Don't worry, my boy," Light assured him, gently dunking a teabag into the boiling water. "Neither of us will use your name against you."

"But others might," said Peregrine. "And so every sorcerer has a Taken Name. Cameron Light and Emmett Peregrine aren't our actual names, I'm sure you've gathered."

"I'd figured," James said. Now it made sense why so many of the sorcerers he'd heard of had such strange names. Devon Mirage, Remus Crux, and—most of all—Skulduggery Pleasant. Obviously no one was born with these names.

"The third name," Peregrine concluded. "Is the True Name. This is the most secretive of the names. Almost no one knows their True Name, and go their whole lives never finding out. Which is good, because if you found out, that means someone else could as well."

"Why would that be bad?" asked James, trying to stay with the conversation.

"I told you that people can use your Given Name to control you," Emmett said. "Which is true, to a point. They have influence, but not total control. If someone knew your True Name, however, they would have complete and utter control. They could make you murder everyone you'd ever loved, and you'd be powerless to resist it."

James gulped.

"Yes, it's rather grim, isn't it?" asked Light, as he gave James and Emmett each a cup full of tea. "Well, what we're trying to say, James, is that you need to pick yourself a true name." James nodded, thinking.

"Alright," he said. "How about…"

"No!" said Peregrine, startling James so much he almost spilled his tea. "You can't just choose a name willy-nilly. This is the name that will define you, the name you will be known by from the moment you choose it onwards. And you can never change it. Put a lot of thought into it, will you?"

"Um, sure," agreed James. Peregrine and Light smiled weakly.

"Good," said Light. "Now, James my boy, we still have a lesson to get on with. As you can imagine, Emmett and I are in a bit of a sour mood right now, and so today will be rather short. I trust you understand?"

"Of course," James said, nodding.

"Good," said Peregrine. "Today's lesson will not involve any actual teleporting on your part. Just theory. Come here," he said, beckoning James over. The teen walked over, and when he got close, Peregrine grabbed his wrist, and they were in a desert.

"Wha?" asked James, jumping back slightly. "Where are we?" Emmett stroked his chin, as if in thought.

"If I had to guess?" he clarified. "The Sahara Desert."

"Why?"

"I've never been," he said. "Thought it would be interesting." He bent down, and lifted a fistful of sand. He slowly let it out between his fingers. "Interesting."

"Okay…" said James after a moment. "But why am I here?" Peregrine turned to him, and a small smile played on his lips.

"Didn't you hear me before?" he asked. "I've never been here before." James gave him a confused look, and then suddenly came to the epiphany that Peregrine was trying to force upon him.

"Wait!" he said. "How did you teleport here if you've never been here before?"

"And now the lesson begins," Emmett said, with a grin. He sat on the hot sand, and patted it, signaling for James to do the same. He did. "James, there are many ways to teleport, did you know that?"

"No," James answered honestly.

"Of course not," Peregrine said. "Most people don't. I've told you how our gift works, yes?"

"More or less," said James. "You just told me that, when we teleport, we open a rift in space or something, and it spits us out where we want to go."

"I'm fairly certain never said 'spits us out,' but yes, you've got the point of it. But do you know what that means, exactly?"

"No."

"What it means, is that we're actually not moving an inch." James' brows furrowed so much they almost became one single eyebrow, if such a thing were possible.

"What do you mean?" he asked, leaning forward on the hot sand.

"Well, teleporting isn't actually about you moving at all. Well… it is, but it's best not to think of it like that."

"You're confusing me, Emmett," James said, before Peregrine contradicted himself again.

"Sorry, sorry," Peregrine said. "Just thinking out loud. I guess what I'm trying to say is this. Yes, you physically move location, but it's not exactly you doing the moving. Make sense?"

"Nope."

"No, I suppose it doesn't," Peregrine said. "Here's how I like to think of it. When you teleport, you open a rift. With me so far?" James nodded. "Okay. When that rift is open, and you pass through it, you don't move at all. It's the world moving around you."

"I see," said James.

"Really?"

"No. Please explain, I'm feeling pretty lost." Emmett sighed.

"Okay, so, here's what I like to say about the whole thing," he said. "I never travel; I let the world do the traveling for me."

"Profound."

"It sure is," said Peregrine. "But it's also accurate. You need to think about it like that; all you do is clear your mind, and tell the world to spin for you. Don't think about anything else. Don't think about distance or height, don't think about how many people you're taking with you. Don't even think of the fact that you've never been there before. Think of a place, and say to the world, 'take me there.' And ta-da, you're there."

James nodded in understanding. The way Peregrine explained it, it actually made a lot of sense. But still, he wasn't exactly sure what this technique would do.

"And this will improve my range?" asked James.

"My boy, it'll do much more than that," Peregrine said. "You'll be able to go further than ever before. You could teleport countless people."

"Why would I want to?" asked James.

"I'm not sure," Emmett admitted. "Maybe there's a house fire, I don't know. But that's not all. You'll be able to teleport with so little thought it'll be almost automatic. And of course, you'll be able to travel places you've never been." He stood, and James did as well. "Now, let's test your understanding. Teleport us back to Cameron's house." James nodded.

He took Emmett's hand in his own, and cleared his mind. He thought of what he'd learned. I'm not moving, he thought to himself. The world moves around me. Don't think, just decide. Tell the world where to take me.

And they teleported.

They reappeared, not in Light's house, but at the small playground across the street. James felt that he had failed, but Peregrine looked at him with admiration. "Well done," he said. "Not exact, but quite close for your first try." James smiled, and Peregrine teleported the two of them into Light's living room.

"How'd it go?" called a voice, Cameron, from the kitchen. He walked back into the living, carrying a tray upon which three steaming bowls were balanced. He set the tray down on the table, and James discovered they were three bowls of tomato soup. Light handed a spoon to his friend, then his apprentice. The three sipped mouthfuls of the red soup.

"Rather well, I'd say," Peregrine said, taking a spoonful. "He teleported us back here, from the Sahara, in one go. Do you have any crackers?"

"Kitchen, top shelf of the cupboard," Light said. Emmett set his bowl down, disappeared, and then reappeared a moment later with a box of small crackers in his hand. He poured some in the bowl, and then offered them to James. "Sahara, eh? Was it nice?"

"Lot of sand," James said, with a nod. "So yeah, it was nice, if you like that sort of thing."

"Did you see any camels?" Cameron asked him.

"No."

"Pity, I hear they're very funny looking up close."

"Cameron," said Emmett suddenly, with a sigh. He set his spoon down. "Though I hate to say it, I feel we should probably find Crux. See if we can help in the investigation, you know?" Cameron looked at Emmett, and then, with a glance at his nearly full bowl of soup, he sighed and nodded. He set his soup down as well.

"Another day, tomato soup, another day," he said under his breath. He teleported, then returned with his coat on, and Emmett's coat in his hand. He tossed Peregrine's coat to him, and the two headed for the door.

"Keep practicing what I've shown you today, James," Peregrine said. "I expect a full report of your progress for next time we see each other."

"Wait!" James called. "Shouldn't I come with you to see this Crux person, too? I mean, you both said there're so few Teleporters already. If one just got… murdered… shouldn't I learn all I can to stay safe?"

"You're as safe as you can be by staying away from Crux," Peregrine assured him. "Trust me. Remus Crux, along with the rest of Ireland, I hope, has no idea you even exist, and that's just how we want it for now. Besides, you don't have a Chosen Name yet. And we forbid you from interacting with other magical folk until you choose."

"Oh," Light winced. "Forbid is such a harsh word. James, we… strongly recommend and would prefer if you didn't interact with other sorcerers until you have a Chosen Name. There, Emmett, that's much better than forbid, don't you think." Peregrine shrugged, as he put a brown hat on.

"Remember, focus on the destination, not the teleportation itself," Peregrine said, then disappeared.

"And choose a name, damn it!" said Light, with a sly grin, before teleporting away as well, leaving James alone in Cameron's house.

An hour or so later, James had returned to the motel he was currently staying at, watching reruns of "Community" on the small TV. A name. Why was this so hard? It had to be symbolic, that much was clear. But to what extent? Did it have to be teleport-related? Because that would sound odd. Then again, today he'd heard the name Skulduggery Pleasant, and no one had laughed. Maybe sounding odd was exactly what he wanted.

His mind turned to other things. How Emmett had taken him to the Sahara. That had been… amazing. The range was incredible, and the fact that he'd never been there before blew James' mind. And then that he, himself, had been able to match the range, give or take a few yards. Crazy. He decided to give it another go.

Sitting up from the bed, turning off the TV, and zipping up his jacket, he closed his eyes. "Focus on the destination," he whispered to himself. "The destination…" He let his mind wander. Where had he never been that he'd wanted to go? The first place that popped into his head was what he was sticking with, and with a moment of focused thought, James disappeared. He reappeared at Venice Beach, California.

"It… it worked?" he asked himself, turning in circles a few times to make sure he was really here. Everywhere he looked there were street performers, girls in bikinis, huge muscled-out guys, girls in bikinis… there were a lot of girls in bikinis.

But James was getting a few weird looks from people standing around him. Oh no! he thought. They must've seen me teleport. But no one was saying anything; just giving him an odd stare, and then walking off. It was then that James realized how sweaty he had quickly become. He was dressed for rainy Ireland, not bright and sunny, ninety degree California. He unzipped his jacket.

He walked about for a bit, taking in the sights. The waves were rolling in steadily, and surfers were claiming some for themselves. James would have to learn to surf one of these days, it looked like great fun. He felt around in his pocket, and pulled out some cash. He walked to an ice cream vendor, ordered a chocolate, and handed the man some money.

"What kind of fancy cash is this?" the ice cream man asked. He held the bill back to James, and that's when the teen realized he had paid with money from Ireland.

"Um…" he tried. He looked around. No one was nearby, or even looking in this direction. James pointed quickly just past the man's head. "What's that?" he cried. The man spun around rapidly, and James teleported away.

He reappeared in an open field. He was back in Omaha, but not near his home. He sighed, licking his ice cream. That was too close. If he was planning on making cross-continent trips, he'd need to bring several types of currency. He suddenly realized he had just stolen the ice cream in his hand. He pulled out his phone, and typed up a text.

"Hey Emmett," he typed, muttering the words as he wrote them down. "Used what you taught me to steal an ice cream. Just thought you should know." Send. Emmett and Cameron had both entrusted James with their cell numbers a week or so ago. They texted regularly. A reply came back.

Was it chocolate? Peregrine asked.

Yes, responded James.

Then its fine, you're not in trouble. James smiled, and licked his ice cream once again.

XxXxX

James spent the rest of the day teleporting to different destinations he'd always wanted to visit. Venice, Italy; London, England; Giza, Egypt; and several beaches in Australia. But he had saved the best for last. Ever since he was little, James had had a fascination for Greek myths and legends. His father had told him the stories he knew, as they were part Greek on his side, and then James did some searching in libraries and internet databases. But now, with the ability to be nearly anywhere, he could experience some Greek culture for himself.

He arrived in Athens, in a back alley, thankfully. The sun was close to setting, and he knew he didn't have much time left in the country before he'd need to get back to Ireland, and so he made sure to soak up as much as he could. He visited several museums and historical structures. The place was amazing.

However, it was hard to enjoy it all, with a burning thought in the back of his mind. He still needed that name. It had been on his mind all day, and thus far, no good ideas had sprung up. He wracked his brain for ideas, but none would come.

It was as he walked along a small road that he found he had wandered into a large yet secluded plaza. The place was nearly deserted; just a few shopkeepers closing up, and a homeless man sleeping on a bench. In the middle of the plaza was a large statue of a man, clad in ancient armor, with a spear in his hand. James walked over to the statue, and peered at the engraving. It said something in Greek lettering, and below it, had the English translation. "Achilles; The Trojan War"

James gazed up in wonderment. He'd heard stories of Achilles from his father, and had actually read Homer's Iliad a year or two ago. He looked at the statue, jaw slightly agape. Achilles had been a demigod, or so the story went. Wonder if he had any magic powers… James thought.

Just then, he felt hands grab him from behind. He whirled, and found the homeless man had been slightly less asleep than he had thought. He was now pointing the jagged end of a broken bottle at James' neck, with a wild look in his eye. On instinct, James teleported.

He reappeared on a rooftop, overlooking the plaza. He was panting, having narrowly escaped a potentially fatal situation. The homeless man wasn't doing too great either. He was looking from side to side, shouting in Greek. Then he changed his language, and began screaming in broken English. "Gone! Gone the boy was! In blink of eye! Blink of eye!"

Something clicked in James' head at that moment. The statue, silhouetted by the moonlight, and the shouts of the homeless man echoing through the near empty plaza. That was it. James had his name.

He teleported back to Light's house. He checked his watch; 10:29. Light was sure to be awake. James walked further into the house, and found Cameron sitting in the living room, reading the paper. He looked up at James, not with a look of surprise, but with one of mild curiosity. "Yes?"

"Achilles Blink," James said confidently. Cameron smiled.

So now James has a name. Hooray. By the way, for those waiting for Skulduggery and Valkyrie, they'll be along shortly ;)