Iria fastened the metal cuff around the child's neck with a click.
"There," she said. "That device is meant to stop you from doing magic."
"Are you going to cuff my hands, too?" The boy asked with a defiant tone.
"No. I can catch you as long as you don't switch worlds." She sat back and smiled at him. "Besides, you'll need your hands free so you can eat."
The boy glared at her again, but his red cheeks indicated that he was still embarrassed at the memory of his growling stomach. The three of them were now seated before a small round dining table in one of the rooms adjacent to the kitchen. He looked at the meal in front of him and his expression turned unsure.
"What are you called?" Iria asked him.
The boy looked up but didn't answer right away. It was like the child was weighing if saying his name would get him in more trouble. But in the end he answered, subdued, "Peter."
"Eat up, Peter," Marquelle said nonchalantly as he scooped a piece of the meat pie into his mouth. "We can call a truce until our bellies have been filled."
"Can I really eat this?" The boy asked as he stared at the generous triangular slice on his plate. Instinctively, he turned to her. Iria thought it was probably because she was a gatekeeper, and he reckoned she would know about what would be safe to eat for someone from his world. But it could also simply be because he met her before the mage, and that few minutes had made him feel a little closer to her. With a smile, Iria nodded.
The mage eyed him inquiringly. "Don't you have meat pies in your world?"
"Yes, we do!" The child snapped. "That's not what I meant! I meant…" His voice trailed off as he looked at the dish again.
"It's not poisonous for you, either," Iria added.
"That's also not what I meant!" He turned away from her in exasperation and snatched the fork beside his place. "Whatever, never mind!" And he began wolfing down the meat pie.
Marquelle didn't seem the least bothered. He just continued eating normally. "It's gotten quite late. The two of you should stay the night."
"Oh, we couldn't possibly impose," Iria replied. "We should leave after dinner—"
"I insist." There was a slight sharpness in his tone that told Iria that he wouldn't accept a refusal.
"… Then, we'll gladly accept your hospitality. Thank you."
Iria turned to look at Peter to see his reaction. But the boy was too preoccupied with the meat pie on his plate. He must have been starving. Iria couldn't help but note how young he was. He was probably only eight or nine or the equivalent of that in his world. And while there was a desperation in his actions, he seemed to have a good head on his shoulders. She found herself being quite fond of him despite all he had done.
"Ligare," the mage suddenly said, putting the stress on the last syllable, as he put down his fork. Both Iria and Peter turned to him. "That's how you say the spell to bind others. When you say it as Ligare, that becomes a spell to bind yourself."
Iria was stunned. "Should you really be teaching him that?"
"I'm a mage. He cannot harm me. And also…" He turned to look at Peter. "I'm a mage. It bothers me when a child with potential makes basic mistakes in spell pronunciation."
She turned to look at the boy. His eyes were wide with wonder. Magic might really be something he was very interested in. She leaned over and unlocked the collar around his neck. "Aiming with your index finger will make it more accurate," she said, somewhat resigned. "And aiming with two fingers will make the spell stronger."
Peter, surprised, looked between Iria and Marquelle. No doubt, he was debating if he understood correctly what they were implying.
"Go on," Marquelle urged him. "Your jailer has given you permission." He indicated the empty fourth chair around the dining table.
Peter stood up tentatively. But seeing as neither Iria nor Marquelle had stopped him, he gained more confidence and turned his attention to the chair. Pointing his index and middle fingers like a pistol, he spoke the spell, "Ligare."
Strips of light shot out before the empty chair. Then the strips enclosed the chair with a snap, sending the chair hurtling backward.
"Ha… Ha!" Peter looked like he couldn't believe it. "I did it! I actually did it!"
His genuine delight was infectious. And Iria couldn't help but laugh along with him as she clapped her hands. "You really did! Congratulations!"
Peter turned his eyes, still brimming with excitement and disbelief, towards the mage. "Do I really have potential?"
"Yes, you do," Marquelle replied in a matter-of-fact tone as he took another bite from the meat pie on his plate. "Now go pick up the chair you sent flying."
The boy turned with a pout, but he obediently stomped towards the chair to retrieve it.
As Peter left, Iria caught the smirk that escaped from the stoic mage's lips. It seemed she wasn't the only one the child had charmed.
*****
The mage insisted they stay the night. Peter didn't mind. Actually, he preferred it. Not only was there heating and good food, but he could also see magic up close here. But the fact that the mage had given him his own room was a little uncomfortable. He was used to creaks and scuttling in the little shanti back in his own world, but the sounds coming from the walls of this room, while faint, were very unsettling. They sounded like unintelligible whispers and scraping. And the largeness of the room didn't help. He felt very much exposed in this wide high-ceilinged chamber. It made him feel like a prey with nowhere to hide.
Knowing he wouldn't be able to sleep here, Peter quietly slipped out of the room to explore the mage's castle.
It was dark. The candles and torches in the corridors were sparse and far between. He came upon the corridor he had first found himself in, with the windows with different views. They were beautiful at night. One had an aurora in its dark green sky. Another looked like a desert with millions of shining stars seemingly splashed against a canvas of black. Another still looked like a plaza with people milling about, with glowing orbs attached to strings decorating the entire area. And the last window was just a deep black. Surprisingly, looking at it made him feel very calm.
"Could these be windows to different worlds," he wondered as he started walking again. It certainly seemed so. But he stopped in his tracks when right in front of him appeared a hulking creature almost twice his height and as wide as his arm span.
The creature just stood there on its four stubby legs and finned tail, observing him from tiny black eyes. Its smooth gray-blue hide looked rubbery. But more than fearsome, it looked eerie, with the slightly glowing white stripes and dots all over its body and the wide smile that took up the width of its entire face.
Cold sweat started to trickle on Peter's back. He had never seen a creature like this before. All of a sudden, the creature let out a sonorous bellow. With a scream, Peter ran back to the direction of his room. To his alarm, the creature was right at his heels. Could this be the mage's guard dog? Was it preventing guests from wandering around the castle? He looked behind him. The creature was still there, not three steps behind, still with its eerie smile. Peter pushed himself to run faster. Then without looking back, he slipped back into his room, shut the door, and fastened the bolt lock just as he heard the creature slamming against the other side of the door.
Peter fell to the floor. He quickly crawled away and stared at the door, hoping the lock and its hinges would hold and keep the enormous monster out. With bated breath, he waited. But he heard no more sound from the outside. It was like the creature had given up pursuit. After a few more seconds of quiet, Peter let out the breath he was holding.
"What's wrong?" He heard a voice.
Rattled, he turned to look at the source of the voice and saw the gatekeeper standing by the bed in the midst of folding her vest. "G-gatekeeper!"
She smiled at him. "You can just call me by my name. Iria."
"What are you doing in my room?" Although, he would prefer that she stayed. He didn't want to be alone in case the creature showed up again.
"You're actually in my room. Yours is next door."
"Huh?" Peter looked around and realized the room was indeed a little different from his room. The bed was positioned differently. And there was more furniture. There were rugs by the bed, and there was even a couch and a small table in the room. The mage clearly favored the gatekeeper more than him, he thought, grumbling.