Curse of the Forbidden Book (14 page)

Jesse nodded. “Of course.” He took the volume out from underneath his pillow and handed it to Parvel, who accepted it with shaking hands.

At first, Parvel just stared at the cover. “Aren't you going to open it?” Jesse prompted. Having the book out in the open made him uneasy, and he wanted it returned to its hiding place as soon as possible.

“I am afraid to,” Parvel said, in a voice very different than the one Jesse was used to.

Jesse looked at the Forbidden Book with new eyes. To him, it had always been a kind of magical treasure, the end of their long, dangerous quest. Now he remembered that it told the fates of generations of young people, killed by the king.

“I have waited five years to know,” Parvel continued, staring vacantly at the book. “And now I am not sure I want to.” He turned to Prince Corin. “Five years ago, my brother, Justis, joined the Youth Guard. He never came back. I joined the Guard to find him, you know.”

“You think he's still alive?” Silas asked in disbelief.

Parvel shrugged. “I've never given up hope.” He opened the book. “Now I can finally know for sure.”

Jesse held his breath as Parvel paged through the book. He couldn't imagine what Parvel must be feeling.

After a few minutes, Parvel looked up, a confused expression on his face. “It's not here,” he said. “I can't find Justis' record anywhere.”

“Are you sure?” Jesse asked. “Let me look.” Parvel handed him the book. Although Jesse wanted to read the entry about Eli, he flipped to the records from five years before.

There were a few pages of information on each member. Jesse caught glimpses of them as he flipped past. Pen and ink drawings of each one. A map, showing the location of their mission. Text describing what happened to them.

But no entry for anyone named Justis.

“Perhaps there are two volumes,” Silas suggested. “Or there was some sort of mistake.”

Jesse was about to say that Chancellor Doran didn't seem the type to make a mistake, but then he noticed something in the book. In between the end of one record and the beginning of another was a small gap.

Parvel and Silas were talking about something, but Jesse stopped listening. He opened the book as far as possible and stared at the spine. There, pressed as close against the binding as possible, were the razor-thin edges of a few sheaves of paper.
Someone cut Justis' record out of the book!

He had just opened his mouth to tell everyone, when Silas snatched the book away from him. “I'll take that, if you don't mind,” Silas said. And, so quickly that Jesse wasn't entirely sure he didn't imagine it, Silas shook his head, his eyes flashing with urgency.

Jesse decided to stay quiet.
But Silas will have some explaining to do later
.

“Why?” Prince Corin asked. “I knew that King Selen was not a good man—my father told me this—but why would he kill many of his strongest, most intelligent young people?”

“Because they would be the greatest threat to his throne if they turned against him,” Jesse said flatly, repeating what Captain Demetri had told them in the desert only a few weeks before. “Our lives are nothing to the king, especially if he can kill us without the people knowing. They all think the Youth Guard members are heroes, giving up their lives for their country.”

“And my entry in the Forbidden Book will not end that way,” Silas declared, standing. “We have to get away from here as soon as possible, or Chancellor Doran will find us.”

Jesse shuddered despite himself, remembering the evil in Chancellor Doran's voice.

“But what about Rae?” Parvel pointed out, and they became silent again. They had the Forbidden Book, but they didn't have one member of their squad.

Silas shook his head in resignation. “We wait then,” he said, clutching the book more tightly. “We wait for Rae.”

“You'll find yourself waiting for a long time, then,” a voice from behind the curtain crowed. “A very long time.”

Jesse barely had time to turn to the doorway before Duke Hale strode into the tent, his sword drawn. “Well, looks like you had a rough day, barbarian,” he declared, sneering down at Prince Corin.

“Perhaps.” Prince Corin stared back at him with a polite smile. “And how did the rest of the archery competition go?”

For a moment, Duke Hale looked surprised at the question. Then he shook his head and boasted, “You're looking at one of the four finalists in the competition. After the jousting tomorrow, I'll leave this palace with the beautiful Lady Taralyn at my side.”

“How unfortunate for her,” Jesse blurted without thinking about it.

Duke Hale glared at him. “Insolent little beggar.”

Parvel stepped between Duke Hale and Prince Corin. “What is your business here?” he demanded.

“Just looking around,” Duke Hale said casually. “Order of the governor. We're looking for that girl.”

“Shouldn't the governor's guards be doing that?” Silas asked. He too was standing, and though his words were calm, Jesse could see that he was ready to fight at the slightest sign of danger.

“I requested the honor of searching this tent myself,” Duke Hale said. “To bring you a message from Sir Roland.”

Jesse meant for his groan to be silent, but enough slipped out that Duke Hale glanced down at him. “That's an appropriate reaction, slave boy.” He turned again to Silas and Parvel. “He says that even if the governor was swayed by your barbarian defender, he knows the truth. And Rebellion members will die.”

“Yes, very impressive,” Parvel said, yawning, as if the show of bravado was nothing to him. “You seem like an intelligent fellow. Hale, was it not?”

“
Duke
Hale.”

“Right, of course,” Parvel said, and Jesse almost laughed. “As I said, you seem intelligent. Has it ever occurred to you to wonder how, if your friend's accusation was true, he happened to know that we were Rebellion members?”

The look on Duke Hale's face clearly told them that he had not wondered. “Sir Roland often travels throughout the district,” Duke Hale said. “He might have seen you participate in a Rebellion raid.”

“Or he himself is part of the Rebellion,” Parvel suggested.

Jesse had seen that comment coming, but apparently Duke Hale hadn't. “That's ridiculous,” he said, glaring at Parvel. “You could be killed for even suggesting it.”

“You yourself said that he often roams about the district,” Parvel pointed out. “Are his actions ever accounted for?” Duke Hale said nothing. “And if he is part of the Rebellion, what does that mean for you? Could he be getting information about you and your estate so that his band could strike there next?”

“No,” Duke Hale said, turning away from them. “It's not true. You're all liars.”

But his voice didn't hold the same confidence that it once had.

Abruptly, he threw open one of Prince Corin's large chests, throwing out the clothes and possessions inside.

“What are you doing?” Parvel asked.

“Searching,” Duke Hale responded. “And don't try to stop me. Governor's orders.”

Parvel looked ready to throw him out of the tent anyway, but when he glanced at Prince Corin, he shook his head. “Let him,” he said. “I have nothing to hide.”

But we do
. Jesse glanced at Silas, who was still holding the book. The chances of Duke Hale recognizing it were slim, but if he did….

Silas must have realized the same thing, because he was walking over to Prince Corin's bedside.
Not under the blankets
, Jesse thought silently.
Duke Hale will look there!

Instead, Silas slipped the leather-bound volume under the others stacked next to Prince Corin's bed. It was a simple plan, and just crazy enough that Jesse thought it might work.

Duke Hale had moved on to the next chest. Apparently, merely ransacking it was not efficient enough, because he lifted the entire thing with a grunt of effort and dumped it out on the ground. Prince Corin's china broke with a loud crash. Grinning, Duke Hale wiped his dirty boots all over the colorful clothing.

“Nothing there,” he sneered, clearly waiting for a reaction from Prince Corin. He got none.

He noisily overturned all the sleeping mats and the metal lamps in the corner of the tent. Like Jesse had predicted, he jerked Prince Corin's blanket away, but he gave the books nearby barely a glance.

“She isn't here,” Jesse said, stating the obvious.

Duke Hale started to back toward the door. “Maybe not,” he said, “but we'll find her. Sir Roland doubled the guard at all of the gates, and all of them are looking for her. She won't leave the palace grounds.” He chuckled and pulled the curtain away. “Not alive, anyway.”

“If Roland gets up enough courage to carry through with his threat, he will know where to find us,” Parvel said, as soon as the booted footsteps faded.

“Not only that,” Jesse said, suddenly thinking of something else, “but what about Chancellor Doran?”

“What about him?” Silas said, frowning. “He wasn't at the tournament.”

“No,” Jesse countered, “but what if word reaches him about the young intruders, one a young girl, another a skilled archer, and another a crippled boy? As the chief scribe, in charge of the Forbidden Book, won't he know who we are?”

Chancellor Doran had almost certainly seen the drawings of Parvel, Silas, and Rae in the book. Yes, they were supposed to have been killed in the mountains, but at the very least, Chancellor Doran would suspect that the mysterious new servants were the escaped Youth Guard members.

“Where will you go?” Prince Corin asked.

Parvel looked deep in thought, but it was Silas who answered first. “To find Rae,” he said.

“And where is that?”

“I don't know,” Silas admitted, “but I think we all know someone who might.”

Jesse, for one, did not, but Parvel began to nod. “Lady Taralyn,” Parvel said. “We have to go into the palace.”

“Rae would never have gone there, not with all the guards,” Jesse protested.

“Where else could she go?” Silas pointed out. “Here, she knew she would be found. There, at least, there are more places to hide. And Lady Taralyn might protect her.”

“But Chancellor Doran is there too,” Jesse said, not bothering to conceal the dread in his voice.

“Do not be afraid of him,” Prince Corin said, raising himself up on his bed. He pointed to the cross on the wall of the tent. Even though everything else was ransacked, Duke Hale hadn't even disturbed it. “He and his master are already defeated. Because of the cross, we have the victory.”

“But He died,” Jesse pointed out, the old frustration coming back. “You said that Jesus died. Where's the victory in that?”

“We never told him, did we?” Parvel said to Prince Corin. He turned to Jesse, his eyes lit with excitement, like a small child opening a present. “Jesse, Jesus didn't stay dead. Three days after his crucifixion, He came back to life again!”

What!
Jesse glanced at Prince Corin to make sure that it wasn't a trick.

“It is true,” Prince Corin said, and even though he still looked tired, there was a peace shining from his face that made Jesse believe every word he said. “Death could not hold the Son of God. Jesus defeated the grave, so that when we die, we also have victory.”

“It isn't possible,” Silas said, shaking his head. “Most of the priests don't even believe it. And we don't have time for fairy tales.”

But Jesse knew Silas was wrong, because the hope that rose inside of him told him that Jesus was not dead. He could not be. If Jesus were dead, why would Chancellor Doran be so afraid of His followers, Christians? If Jesus were dead, why would the governor say that their God was more powerful than Doran's?

Prince Corin was right. They did have the victory. Suddenly, Jesse wasn't afraid of Chancellor Doran anymore.

“We must leave,” Silas said curtly, and Jesse noticed again how talk about God disturbed him. “It's almost curfew.” They had learned from experience that traveling after dark was a dangerous thing to do.

“So you will go to the palace, find Rae, and leave the city,” Prince Corin said. Jesse snorted.
If only it would be so easy
. “Where do you go from there?”

“Only what is written in the pages of this book will tell us,” Parvel said, picking it up. “We feel that we have a responsibility to do what we can to save the other Youth Guard squads.”

“A noble goal,” Prince Corin said, nodding, “although I worry for your safety.”

Jesse laughed. “Considering our situation here, anything would seem safer. I, for one, am ready to leave this palace forever.”

“Not without provisions,” Prince Corin said. “Take whatever you need from my supplies, if you can find anything in the mess left by our friend Duke Hale.”

Silas was already kneeling in the pile, wrapping up food in one of the blankets. Jesse saw him eyeing the longbow that he had leaned against the wall of the tent.

“Including weapons,” Prince Corin added. “Since I have clearly disqualified myself from the tournament, they are of no use to me.”

“We must change back into our old clothes,” Parvel said. He laughed at the face Jesse made. “I know, Jesse. But at least your rags will attract less attention than colorful island robes.”

Jesse sighed. He had gotten to like Prince Corin's style of clothing, strange though it was. Besides, he hadn't bothered to wash his old clothes, and the smell was less than pleasant.

All of them were used to packing quickly.
It seems we're always fleeing from some place or another
.

Jesse laughed as he saw Parvel pick up the panpipes, then sigh and put them back in the chest. “That's exactly what we'll need, running for our lives,” Jesse teased, “a musical instrument!”

“Don't be foolish, Jesse,” Parvel shot back. “Why, who needs a flute when we have your stunning singing voice?” Since he couldn't think of anything to say in reply, Jesse simply ignored him.

Once Parvel was satisfied that they had all of the necessary provisions, he divided the supplies into two bundles and tied them up in the gray blankets that had covered their mats.

At least Prince Corin has one thing that isn't brightly colored
, Jesse thought. Walking out the gate of the palace wall with a bundle tied in a colorful robe would tempt the Patrol members to search it—or steal what it contained.

“And what will you say when the Patrol members ask what you're carrying?” Prince Corin asked, raising an eyebrow at the odd pack.

“Supplies,” Silas said. “Most won't ask questions. And, if that doesn't satisfy them, a well-placed bribe will. That's one thing about the Patrol….”

He stopped, eyes darting toward the front of the tent.

“What…?” Jesse began, but he trailed off when Silas shot him a cutting look and held a hand up for silence.

He mouthed the words, “Someone listening.”

Jesse stared at the fibers of the front wall of the tent. Sure enough, he could see a shadowed outline of a person standing outside. His heart started beating faster.
Is it Roland? Or, worse, Chancellor Doran?

“You can always count on Patrol members to be corrupt,” Silas continued, as if nothing had gone wrong. As he spoke, he began to creep silently toward the entrance to the tent. “The people hate them, of course, because of the tax exemptions they receive, and the way they distort justice.”

He was now almost within reach of the curtain. The figure outside had not moved. Then, quickly as a fisher bird poking its beak into the stream to catch a passing trout, Silas burst out of the tent.

There was a muffled scream, and when Silas dragged the mysterious figure into the tent, Jesse knew why. There, glaring defiantly from underneath a hooded cloak, was Lady Taralyn.

Silas twisted the captive around, and the surprise on his face showed that he also had not guessed the identity of their intruder.

For her part, Lady Taralyn seemed more angry than frightened. “This is an outrage!” She wrenched free from Silas' grip, sniffing haughtily. “I'll thank you to keep your hands off of me from now on.”

With great effort, Jesse managed to keep from laughing. “Our humblest apologies,” Parvel said graciously.

Silas said nothing. Mistake or no mistake, it was not his way, Jesse knew, to apologize for something he had done to protect them.

Jesse heard a rustling noise as Prince Corin struggled to get up from his mat. “Lady Taralyn,” he said, attempting to bow. Jesse had to go over and steady him so he didn't stagger backward and collapse the tent.

“Sit down, Prince Corin,” Parvel commanded.

This time, the patient didn't care to take the doctor's advice. “It is not the custom of my land to remain seated when a lady is present,” Prince Corin said with dignity, despite the obvious pain he was in.

As soon as Prince Corin spoke, Lady Taralyn kept her eyes fixed on the ground. Once, she turned her head in Jesse's direction, and Jesse saw that, beneath the cowl of her cloak, she was blushing bright red.

“I must speak to you,” she said, eyes still downcast. Her former arrogance was entirely gone. “Outside.”

Prince Corin immediately began to step forward, and Lady Taralyn's head jerked up for a quick second. “No,” she said, almost in panic. “Not you. I cannot…I cannot….”

And, with a strangled cry, she turned and ran out of the tent.

Jesse glanced at Parvel and Silas. “You two go,” Silas said, shaking his head. “She clearly doesn't want to speak to the prince.”

“Why don't you come too?” Jesse asked Silas.

“I don't want to leave the prince alone.”

But Jesse read the real answer in his eyes. He didn't want to deal with a hysterical woman.
Not that Parvel and I do either
. Still, for Rae's sake, he followed Parvel.