though Willa gave him a warm, soft quilt that she promised was “sewn up with sweet dreams,” Jesse couldn’t fall asleep right away. He could tell by the uneven breathing that Silas and Parvel couldn’t either.
“What are we going to do?” he finally whispered.
A long pause. “Rae won’t—can’t stay here,” Silas said. “And we know what Parvel wants to do. After all, it’s his brother. I’d do the same if it were my sister.”
So Silas had a sister. Jesse tried to picture what she was like. Probably as quiet and stubborn as he was.
“I don’t want to lead you into danger,” Parvel finally said, propping his head up on his elbow. “I’ll go alone if I have to.”
“You don’t have to,” Silas said. “Tomorrow, we leave here. And I know a place where we can go, inside the city. If you’re willing to risk it.”
“At this point, what’s a little more risk?” Jesse said, shrugging. “We should have been dead by now anyway.”
“It’s settled, then,” Parvel said, and Jesse thought he heard a note of relief in his voice. “We’re going to find that book.”
Chapter 5
It had taken them some time to get started for Davior. Willa had insisted on wrapping them a bundle of provisions. She had tried to wash their clothes, too, but Parvel had graciously declined the offer.
Then Ira had gone on about the various theories about what the Forbidden Book would do to anyone who touched it. The curse seemed to involve everything from madness to a plague of swelling black spots on the ankles.
And, finally, Telemachus had tried one last time to convince them to stay, or at least find some kind of disguise. Silas seemed tempted by that thought, but Rae would not wait another moment. Ira, realizing there was no hope for them to change their minds, escorted them from the barracks and left them on the road to Davior.
Soon, the walls of the capital city came into view. They were tall and imposing, built of the dark rock that had lined the tunnels Jesse had tramped through in the Deep Mines.
They’re so thick, Jesse marveled. Imagine the amount of stone it took to make them.
Then he realized something. So that was what created the tunnels! As they had journeyed through the mountains, Jesse had often wondered what had caused the large, seemingly random tunnels and caverns cut jaggedly out of the mountains. Now he realized that the stonemasons of District Two had made them, quarrying stone for Davior.
Once inside the walls, Jesse allowed himself to stare at the bustling city around him. Never in all his fifteen years had he seen so many people. They practically swarmed around him, running, cursing, buying, selling, shouting, shoving.
The pace had slowed to a crawl, but Jesse didn’t mind. He wanted to take in every detail.
“You can tell you were born in a small village,” Silas said, keeping his eyes not on Jesse, but on the people around him. “This is different from Mir, isn’t it?”
Jesse just nodded, unable to describe in words what he was seeing and feeling.
“It is a good thing you don’t have anything worth stealing,” Silas continued. “You’d be an easy target for pickpockets.”
Now, Jesse looked around in alarm, suddenly noticing other things about the city: beggars slumped in the streets, sinister figures lurking in doorways, rats darting into alleyways.
But Silas is right. I have nothing to steal. And that must be easy to see, since I look like a beggar. Still, Jesse clutched his walking stick tighter. It was the only possession he had left to remind him of home.
“Where are we going?” Rae asked. She looked uncomfortable too, her hand clutching the bag that concealed her weapon.
“One-Eyed Roddy’s place is a few streets down,” Silas said. “Follow me.”
We won’t have to worry about anyone recognizing us, Jesse realized as he dodged a baker selling his wares and a woman carrying a screaming baby. It would be hard to spot us, even if someone were actually looking. He struggled to keep up, limping through the street and trying to avoid gutters full of garbage.
Once they stepped into the alleyway, the press of people stopped, and Jesse began to breathe easier. “I’ve decided that I don’t like the city,” Jesse declared to anyone who was listening.
Silas glanced for landmarks on the narrow side street. “Just stay close.”
The alley seemed dark, even though it was early afternoon, with long shadows from the buildings that lined either side. Jesse was sure he heard a squeak in front of him, and he shivered. Rats.
“If this is such a dangerous part of town, shouldn’t we be traveling on the main roads?” Jesse pointed out.
“You’re the one who wanted to avoid attention,” Silas said, shrugging. “Besides, this is my home. I know these streets as well as you know the woods outside your uncle’s inn.”
No sooner had he said this than a loud cry pierced the silence. It came from the street next to this one.
Jesse stopped immediately, glancing at the others. “Someone’s in trouble!” he declared.
“That is not our concern.” Silas kept walking.
The voice cried out again, and this time Jesse listened to figure out the exact location.
“We have to help,” Parvel said, drawing his sword. “It’s our duty.”
“No,” Rae countered. “Our duty is to get to One-Eyed Roddy’s, then find the Forbidden Book. Robberies happen every day in the city.”
Jesse felt frustration build inside of him. “We’re wasting time!” Before Silas or Rae could protest again, he ran toward the voice as quickly as he could with his limp. They can follow if they like.
It was comforting to hear Parvel’s footsteps behind him. “Have you forgotten, Jesse,” he said, overtaking him, “that we escaped from Riddler’s Pass with only three weapons, and you do not have any of them?”
“Oh.” Jesse shrugged. “I could have attacked with my staff.”
“You thought with your heart before thinking with your head,” Parvel said, ducking down the side street toward the voice. “That can lead to trouble, Jesse.”
Parvel’s lecture was cut short as they stopped in the middle of the alley. There the dirtiest character Jesse had ever seen was holding a jagged homemade knife, which he waved at his victim.
A quick glance told Jesse that the victim was not from District Two, perhaps not even from Amarias. His skin was darker even than the desert dwellers’, and his colorful clothes were loose and of a strange style.
“You there,” Parvel said, sword at the ready. “What are you doing?”
As if that isn’t obvious. The foreigner appeared to be untying a richly embroidered pouch at his side. Jesse
