Exiled by J. R. Wagner Page A

His mind immediately cleared. He inhaled again, and his senses grew more refined. He closed his eyes and listened to his own heartbeat. He could feel his blood flowing inside him. And then, in his mind’s eye, he saw the black castle. It called to him and beckoned him, and he yearned to heed its call.
    “Slow down, son. Control yourself, or you will be controlled by this place,” said Luno as if he could sense what was happening inside James’s mind.
    James pushed the image of the castle out of his mind. “Why did everyone react like that back there? When I said my name?”
    Luno exhaled. The chipper upbeat man of moments ago washed away as he slowly stood. He walked to the window overlooking the ocean and stared at the sea.
    “The first man to come here. Rather, the first man to be exiled to this place, because nobody comes here voluntarily, spent years scouring the island. One day, after months of being lost in the jungle, he wandered onto the beach. There was an outcropping of rocks that spilled out into the ocean.”
    Luno stepped quickly to the wall with the giant map painted on it and pointed to an outcropping on the southeastern part of the island. “We call it the spine,” he said.
    “I’ve been there,” replied James.
    Luno and Kilani exchanged glances.
    “What of it?” James asked, his heart beating faster.
    “This man climbed to the top in hopes of gaining a better vantage point. When he reached the top he saw it . . . the black castle. It called to him, as it calls to all who set eyes upon it.”
    “Yes, I’ve seen the castle,” James said, stepping in front of Luno excitedly and placing his finger at the end of the spine. “Here.”
    Again Kilani and Luno exchanged looks.
    “What do you imply with your knowing glances that I am not meant to know?” James asked, growing frustrated.
    “The Black Castle presents itself only to those it chooses. Very few have ever set eyes upon it,” said Luno, stepping in front of James and marking the area where James’s finger had come to rest with a piece of charcoal.
    “This man,” Luno continued, “became obsessed with the notion of gaining entry. One day not long after claiming to see the thing—at that time I believed he’d simply gone mad having never seen it myself—he disappeared never to be seen again.”
    Luno finished writing notes on a piece of paper and turned back to James.
    “The man left several messages. The first, carved into a stone on the southernmost point of the island,” Luno said, pointing to the long tail at the bottom of the map labeled ‘Southern Cape,’ “are three letters: JLS.”
    “That could mean anything,” James said.
    “True,” Luno replied turning to the window. “But then I found another clue.”
    He turned back with a smile and excitedly moved toward a large trunk beneath the map.
    “The second message left behind was a scroll of paper that contained a single sentence written in this man’s distinctive hand.”
    He lifted the lid and began sorting through the trunk’s contents.
    “Upon the scroll was written—” Luno removed a tatteredlooking scroll, carefully unfurled it and read: “To my successors, the way to salvation is through he who I’ve previously referenced.”
    “From those two pieces of inane information many of the folk here have concluded that this man is a seer, or was anyway. And he foretold of a man, JLS, who would get us off this rock.” 
    “And what do you believe?” James asked.
    “As I’ve said, we are all damned to an eternity of suffering or death on this place. The only way out is by taking Death’s clammy hand—except in my case where Death has refused me, and I’m simply left to suffer until the end of time.”
    James looked at Luno, confused. Luno shook his head as if to make the thought disappear.
    “May I see that?” James asked, pointing to the scroll.
    Luno’s eyes shifted as he reluctantly handed the scroll to James. Carefully, James stretched the