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door, not wide enough to accommodate the passage of such an object. He swivelled, his mouth dry and open, and stared at the box again. A movement of shadow caught his attention, then he realised it was not a shadow at all, but the magician, upright, sitting in his chair. Two pinpricks of light were shining inside his hood, set directly towards Leopold: eyes reflecting the firelight.
    The sight had Leopold fully awake, and he hurried to his room, shutting the door firmly and quietly. Dread followed him into the room, and, not knowing what else to do, he dragged a heavy chest across the floor to bar the door ... a precautionary measure.
    He crawled into bed, but could not easily return to sleep. A creak sounded from the living room and the noise had Leopold’s eyes open once again. The sound continued, a gentle creak, creak, creak, and it carried on unabated, until Leopold recognised the sound of his mother’s chair, slowly rocking back and forwards. It squeaked from the other room, keeping him awake. Long after, shivering nervously, fatigued from anxiety, Leopold collapsed asleep.
     
    ****
     
    Morning came and Leopold awoke with the sounds of the small boy laughing and playing in the next room. He dressed and went into the living room, where the others were at their breakfast.
    ‘I didn’t want to wake you,’ his mother said. ‘Come. Have something to eat.’
    There was no sign of the large, black coffin in the room and Leopold looked about with confusion, wondering if it had been a disturbing dream. He sat and ate as his mother instructed.
    Again the magician consumed nothing, only sipping tea, and shortly after they had finished eating Leopold’s father pushed back his chair and stood. A bag of Leopold’s clothes waited by the door.
    ‘Come then,’ his father announced. ‘It is time to go. Leopold, take Samuel’s companions outside and wait along the path. Do what Samuel tells you.’
    Leopold picked up his bag and led the other two outside. He waited patiently upon the path as he had been told, wondering what the others were doing inside. There was a strange nervous tic in his stomach. He was rubbing his hand upon the spot when the old man spoke, startling him. Until then, he thought the old fellow was incapable of coherent speech.
    ‘Do not fret, my boy,’ the old fellow said, gruff and hoarse, leaning upon the stick he had plucked from the beach. ‘Everyone must pass on, eventually. It is inevitable.’
    It made Leopold wonder what the old fool meant, until the door to the house opened and Samuel stepped out alone.
    ‘What’s going on?’ Leopold asked, stalking towards the man. ‘Where is my father?’
    ‘Come,’ the magician said, ignoring his questions, walking by.
    Leopold felt something was wrong, and he ran into the house, disregarding the magician’s instruction.
    Mother was kneeling on the floor with her skirts spread around her and Father was lying in her arms, peaceful, as if asleep. Confusion assaulted Leopold’s mind. That Father was on the floor and the tears in Mother’s eyes made it seem as if he were dead. But how could that be? Surely it was not possible.
    ‘No!’ Leopold said and he joined his mother’s side, shaking his father by the arm. ‘Father!’ he cried. ‘Wake up!’
    ‘It’s all right, Leopold,’ his mother told him. ‘Your father wanted it this way. He has been preparing for this for a long time. It has to be this way.’
    ‘No!’ Leopold declared, with tears streaming down his cheeks. ‘How can he do this?’
    ‘It is better if you go, Leopold. Your father has given his life to save us. You cannot stay.’
    ‘Damn the magician!’ Leopold barked. ‘I’ll kill him!’
    ‘No, Leopold!’ his mother shouted after him, for Leopold had run out the door after the magician’s back. He raced along the path and threw himself upon the man.
    It was like striking a wall of stone. Leopold fell backwards upon contact. The magician stopped striding and, with