Curse of the Forbidden Book (4 page)

But it was Anton who answered. “It seems we have very little choice. Be back by morning. And stay safe.”

Telemachus gave a surly nod and shoved Parvel toward the stairs. That jerked the rest of them forward. Jesse tried to reach up and rub his sore neck before he remembered that his hands were tied too.

Between the Patrol member at one end and Telemachus at the other, Jesse hardly had to walk. They dragged their line of prisoners down the dark, empty road.

Suddenly, Jesse found himself jerked to a halt. In front of him, Rae had stopped. Somehow, she had managed to work her gag loose. “I warn you,” she said, between clenched teeth, “you will not be able to force me to come with you…not without a fight.”

Someone laughed, and for a minute, Jesse couldn't place who it was. When the voice laughed again, he blinked in surprise. It was Telemachus—but it wasn't the same low, surly laugh he had heard early. It sounded almost…friendly.

“Well, we wouldn't want that, would we?” he said. He straightened up, his hunched back disappearing. Now he was even taller than before, almost like the giants Jesse had heard about in stories.

Instead of shoving them down the road, Telemachus rolled up his sleeve. “You are among friends,” he said.

There, faint, but still visible in the moonlight, was a broken circle with an
A
. The symbol of the Youth Guard.

They couldn't talk in the street. That, at least, is how the Patrol member explained the need to continue on to the barracks. He did take off their ropes. “Sorry about that,” he said. “Necessary for the deception, you know.”

At first, Jesse thought Parvel would give the order for them to flee into the darkness, leaving their two former captors behind. Rae certainly looked ready to bolt. But they kept walking, and Parvel said nothing.

“Can we trust them?” Jesse muttered to Parvel.

“We're still alive,” was all he said. “I think it would be best to see what happens.”

That didn't seem like a secure plan to Jesse, but he had learned to trust his leader's instincts, so he followed Telemachus and the Patrol member.

Here's where we'll see our proof
, Jesse thought as they approached the gate to the barracks. Most Patrol outposts were small, a few houses inside a compound. This one, though, was within sight of the gates of Davior, the capital of District Two. It had room to house at least a dozen patrol members.

“Who's there?” a raspy voice from behind the thick gates demanded.

“It's Ira, of course,” the Patrol member holding Jesse said. “Back with the children from the refuge. We'll question them, but I think our informant was just trying to stir up trouble for them. They seem harmless.”

The door creaked open, and the other Patrol member laughed. “I take it those priests weren't slaughtered in their beds by the time you got there, then.”

Ira's voice became sharp. “No, and you should be grateful. You know the priests do no harm and should be protected.”

A wheezing laugh from the other. “So you always say. If it weren't for you, that house of refuge would have been shut down years ago. Well, I say they don't do us good either. No bribes, no drinks. Nothing but their crazy tales and ancient morality.”

“If more people had their ancient morality, we might have fewer people in our jail,” Ira pointed out.

The wheezing man apparently had no comeback for that. He just grunted and let them pass.

“This way,” Ira said in a low tone. “My wife will have food ready, if I know her.”

“And good food, too,” Telemachus added, sounding excited, as if they were coming as late-night dinner guests.

So Ira was married. Jesse knew that not many Patrol members had a family. Most were young and ready for adventure—the king liked it better that way. Some though, often supervisors or officers, were allowed to marry before their years of service were up.

Sure enough, a small woman with a wide smile opened the door to meet them. “Come inside,” she said, beaming at them. “If I know my husband, you've had a harrowing night. But you are welcome here.”

“Thank you,” Parvel said warmly. Jesse glanced back at Silas and Rae. They didn't look welcome. In fact, they looked ready to bolt into the darkness.

“I'm sure you're hungry,” the woman said, shutting the door behind them. “Those houses of refuge don't feed you growing children nearly enough.” She turned to Rae. “Help me in the kitchen, would you, dear?”

Before Rae could refuse, as Jesse was sure she would, the woman turned suddenly. “Oh, and where are my manners? My name is Willa.”

“Of course!” Ira said, laughing loudly. “We haven't introduced ourselves properly!”

“Shh!” Telemachus hissed, looking around uncomfortably. “Won't someone hear?”

“Most of the men are in the city tonight; getting drunk at a tavern, like as not,” Ira said. “Besides, if anyone comes, I'll tell them I'm interrogating the prisoners.” He sat down on a bench so hard that the table shook. “And that's just what we'll do. I have some questions for you, if you don't mind.”

“We mind,” Silas said flatly, crossing his arms and glaring at Ira.

Willa looked around nervously, blinking a few times. “We'll just be in the kitchen, won't we dear?” she said to Rae.

“No,” Rae said, not even looking at her. She stood beside Silas, straight and defiant. “I'll be right here.”

“Never mind, then. I can manage just fine by myself,” Willa said, tucking a strand of brown hair behind her ear. “It's mostly ready anyway.” With that, she retreated into the kitchen, leaving the rest of them standing in a circle, eyeing each other. It reminded Jesse of a story he had heard a traveler from the Northern Waste tell about wolves fighting for control of a pack.

This time, though, no one wanted to make the first move. When the silence seemed to drag on, Jesse said, “Silas, you don't have to be rude. They're on our side.”

“We don't know if we can trust them,” Silas insisted, cold gray eyes fixed on Telemachus, who stared right back. Before, his gaze was dull and unintelligent, but now Jesse could see a sharp mind behind his disguise. “Maybe they're Guard members. Maybe this is all fake.”

“He's a smart one,” Ira said to Telemachus, as if none of them were in the room.

“Of course he is. How else do you think he survived?” Telemachus looked curiously at them. “But for an entire squad to get away…why, that's unheard of.”

Jesse didn't bother explaining the truth. He wasn't a member of the Youth Guard. The fourth squad member, a young woman named Alieah, had died in training. He knew it hurt the others, especially Parvel, to remember that part of their story.

“While I applaud your caution, I assure you, you have nothing to fear,” Telemachus said. His smooth words, compared to the way he spoke in the house of refuge, almost startled Jesse. “If we had wanted to kill you, we would have done it by now.”

He was right, Jesse knew. If Ira and Telemachus were on the side of the king, they would have been killed instantly.

“Sorry we had to meet the way we did,” Ira said, shrugging his broad shoulders. He too began to roll up his sleeve. “As a token of good faith,” he said, “though it might be a bit hard for the young lady there to see.”

He soon found that with his burly arms, his shirt wouldn't roll all the way to his shoulder. “Bah,” he said, giving up the attempt and pulling his shirt off. “There it is.”

He had exposed his right arm, the puckered skin covered in red welt-like scars from his shoulder to just before his elbow. “Hot coals,” he explained, his face hardening. “I was the only one of my squad who survived the attack. I knew I would have to take desperate measures to keep them from finding me. It was the only way I could think of to disguise the Guard tattoo. I tell folks I was badly burned in a fire that consumed my parents' house.”

Jesse shuddered, not just because of the raw flesh, but because he pictured Ira burning it himself, screaming in pain.
He would never make Silas, Parvel, and Rae do something like that…would he?

Ira put his shirt back on.
“
Once he knew you were Guard, Telemachus found me. We thought we should get you away from there before anyone else recognized you.”

“How would they?” Rae asked. “I doubt many of the king's men stop by houses of refuge.”

“Especially in this district, it can't hurt to be too careful,” Ira said. “The king hates us, you know. Wants to kill every Youth Guard member, to destroy the young ones who might fight back against him.”

“We know,” Jesse said, cutting him off.

Ira looked a bit disappointed at the reaction. “Then you know that only a few get away from him alive. Those who do need to stick together.”

“And so you bring us to a Patrol outpost?” Rae said, using her sharp words like a dagger. “How is this any safer than the house of refuge?”

“Because we know how to make you invisible,” Telemachus explained patiently, not seeming flustered at all by Rae's outburst. “After all, we've done it ourselves. We can get you disguises, help you fake an accent or a mannerism, get you jobs in a town somewhere so that you can live in perfect obscurity.” Now that he had dropped his act, he spoke with perfect articulation and a slight District Two accent. “That's what I've learned to do at the house of refuge.”

“Yes, about that,” Jesse said. “Do you always act…?” Jesse trailed off, trying to think of a polite way to finish his sentence.

“Rude, surly, and hostile?” Telemachus suggested. “Only to strangers. To the priests and the orphans, I'm a gruff, loveable hunchback. They know they can trust me with anything. I don't talk much about my past. But then, no one at a house of refuge does. And no one asks questions.”

“The perfect place to hide,” Parvel said thoughtfully. “An excellent choice, Telemachus.”

“My name isn't really Telemachus,” he admitted. “I chose it for myself, once I went into hiding. And you'll do the same. I have a friend who can forge papers for you with your new identities.”

“What if we don't want new identities?” Rae asked.

Jesse groaned.
Why does she always have to pick a fight?

“Then you apparently want a death sentence instead,” Telemachus said.

“Fresh bread!” Willa exclaimed, bustling through the door with a tray of rolls and breaking the uncomfortable silence. She began to hand out the rolls; then stopped when she got to Jesse. “You need two,” she said, winking at him. “You're nothing but skin and bones.”

At first, Jesse resented the comment, but as soon as he tore off a piece of the roll and put it in his mouth, any annoyance melted away. “Honey rolls,” she whispered to him. “Secret recipe, you know.”

Right then, Jesse decided that Ira and Telemachus were on their side. No one would let their enemies eat these rolls. They would keep them all for themselves.

Parvel nodded politely and took a roll. “I take it, Ira, your Patrol uniform isn't a costume?”

“Of course not,” Ira said, beaming at his own cleverness. “After I dyed my hair and grew this beard, I joined up.”

“How could you do that?” Rae demanded, looking at him with disgust. “After what you know about the king?”

Ira shrugged. He tore off half of a roll and stuffed it into his mouth, talking through the crumbs. “I can do my work with a clear conscience. Patrol members are supposed to uphold order and make sure justice is done.”

Rae laughed bitterly. She hadn't touched her roll. “Not from what I've seen.”

“All the more reason to have one who does,” Ira said, letting her harsh words go. “Besides, you must admit it's an excellent disguise. I've never had my identity challenged in the whole of these fifteen years.”

“Nor I in five years,” Telemachus added.

“Five years,” Parvel repeated, his face suddenly animated. The roll in his hand was forgotten. “Then you were part of the same Guard as my brother.”

“I knew you looked familiar,” Telemachus said, studying Parvel carefully. “Lighter hair, rounder face, that sort of thing, but the resemblance is there. Yes, I knew your brother—only by sight, of course. There were one hundred of us, and he was not part of my squad. I can't quite recall what his mission was.”

“What happened to him?” Parvel pressed. Jesse had never seen him so focused.

“Ask Chancellor Doran,” Willa grumbled, setting the plate of rolls on the table with a thunk. “If you ask me, the Guard is unlucky that he's the one keeping their records. Very unlucky indeed.”

They all stared at her. “Explain,” Silas said, saying what they were all thinking.

Instead, she turned to her husband. “Ira?”

“Not again,” Telemachus moaned. “Ira, I beg you, do not fill their ears with baseless tales.”

“You let them decide for themselves, Telemachus,” Ira snapped. He rolled his eyes. “Baseless indeed. Working on the Patrol so close to the capitol, I hear rumors, and I listen for anything related to the Youth Guard.”

“It's called the Forbidden Book,” Telemachus interrupted, leaning toward the center of the table and making his voice melodramatic. “No one knows where it's kept, you understand. It's all very secretive.”

“But what is it?” Rae asked impatiently.

“A record,” Ira said. Unlike Telemachus, he was perfectly serious. “With the names, missions, and fates of every Youth Guard member ever sent out.”

“Poor dears,” Willa added.

For a moment, Jesse almost stopped breathing. He could hardly imagine such a book.
Hundreds of names, so many have died….
He pictured the last several pages, where Silas, Rae, and Parvel's names would be written.
And Eli's.

All during his journeys, Jesse had wondered what had happened to Eli.
If we could see the book somehow, I could know for sure
.

“Rumor is that Chancellor Doran, the governor's right hand man, keeps the book as his service to the king,” Ira said. “This is all hearsay, you understand, pieced together from fragments of rumors and the like.”

“Yes, and the book is cursed,” Telemachus added, “so they say. And I say that the entire thing is legend.”

“You mean you've known about this book, only a short distance from your door, and you've never tried to get it?” Rae asked incredulously.

“It doesn't exist,” Telemachus repeated.

“Even if the Forbidden Book did exist, it would be foolish to try to find it,” Ira countered. “Chancellor Doran and his scribes have seen sketches of our faces. If someone turned us in….”

“No one would recognize you,” Silas reasoned. “You've changed your appearance considerably.”

“That's a risk I am not willing to take,” Ira said. “You cannot understand. I have a wife, a job, a house. I have a life again.”

Jesse looked at Parvel, and from the look on his face, he guessed they were thinking the same thing. Jesse wanted to know what happened to Eli. Parvel wanted to know what happened to his brother.

“We've got to find it,” Jesse said suddenly. “Don't you understand? If we had that book, we could find the Youth Guard members who are still alive. We could save them!”