Prophecy's Promise (Prophecy of the Edges Book 1) (4 page)

I couldn’t answer his question as I did not know why myself. “Your Highness, you are the prince. Could you not confront the Weavers?”

“Even a prince needs more proof than whispers in the dark when dealing with people who could take over the kingdom in a blink of an eye if they wished.”

“No one has the power to do that,” I said slowly.

“Power isn’t in who wears the crown.” He paused for a moment, looking at me, considering me, just as he had in the Council room a few hours earlier. “Ah, but now I see a question on your face, little Rabbit. Why am I asking for your help, and why did my source suggest you? The culprit is either my cousin or your aunt, and you are close to both of them.”

“It’s not Nazarie,” I said, fiercely.

“See, that’s loyalty on your face,” he whispered, “not proof. But even you have to admit there are some things in her story that don’t quite add up. Furthermore, Altis never wanted to be the Lead Initiate. He is currently working on a plan to hand over control of the Weavers, so my current suspicions are with your aunt.”

“Altis loves control. That must be a ruse,” I insisted.

“Not so rabbit-like when it comes to allegations about your family?” Jaysen said, then turned to look over his shoulder at the curtain. “Ah, sorry about this.” He slid his hand around my waist and onto my bottom and pulled me to him. I protested and tried to squirm away. At that moment, Altis flew the curtain aside.

“Cousin, I can see why you picked this one,” the prince slurred as he tripped backward against the wall.

“Jaysen, you're drunk,” Altis accused.

“So?”

“So, get away from my Apprentice.” Altis growled and stepped closer to the prince; leveraging the couple of inches of height he had on Jaysen to look as intimidating as possible.

The prince let go of me and stepped back, hands in the air. “Didn't realize apprentices were off limits.”

“Leave,” Altis hissed, stepping protectively between the prince and me. Prince Jaysen stumbled back toward the crowd, turning around only once to wink at me. He was not groping me, he was warning me and then playing dumb. He pulled off the dumb part exceedingly well.

“I'm sorry. I was trying to get away from everything, and then he came back here and...” I began.

Altis held his hand up. “It's not your fault. You’re out of your element. I’m sorry for throwing you in to this.” He sounded genuinely concerned. “You don’t have to stay.”

“Oh! Really? Thank you.” I hurried out of the ballroom before he could change his mind.

Conspiracy is a very big word. What need would Weavers have to rule? Ruling would distract us from learning and practicing the Mist. We were all quite content to live within the confines of the rule of the queen, protecting the kingdom when the need arose, and living in relative luxury when it did not. Altis had already stolen the Weavers from Nazarie, and I did not believe for a second that he was interested in giving up his position. Was he contemplating stealing the kingdom from Prince Jaysen? But that didn’t make sense, either. If he wanted to steal the kingdom, he wouldn’t be setting off with only me. He’d take scores of Warrior Weavers with him and then return as the queen lay on her deathbed. Jaysen must honestly suspect Altis, or he wouldn’t have pretended to be drunkenly clutching at me.

The prince’s source had to be wrong. Who could possibly accuse my aunt while at the same time be confident that I could be trusted? I would never doubt Nazarie. I owed Nazarie my life.

Directly outside the entrance to the Apprentice Corridor, Scholar Shezdon stood, holding a large package, wrapped in a brown tattered rag. “Hailey, where have you been?” he whispered, looking over his shoulder. I’d not seen him since he stepped in to help my class the morning after my Mist Apparition.

“Long story,” I sighed. “Thanks again for taking over my classes. How are the students?”

“The children are fine. But that’s not why I am here.” His bushy brows were constricted into one long line. “Take this. Keep it hidden until you find someone who can read it.” He handed me the package. I could feel a very large book through the rag.

“What are you talking about? What is this?”

“Promise me,” he insisted.

“I'd promise you anything. But what’s this about?”

“It is about a prophecy to heal The Edge.”

“I’ve read everything there is to read about The Edge. I’ve never heard of a prophecy.”

“That’s because they tried to erase it from history.”

“Shezdon, you are scaring me, who are ‘they’?”

“The White Knights. They were involved in your accident.”

“What?”

“I don’t have enough time. I explained as much as I could in my note. Do not show this to any Initiate. There is no way to know who is involved or who is being watched.”

“Shezdon, White Knights are myths.”

“As were Mist Apparitions. You don’t have to believe me. Take care of the book. When you meet someone who can read it, give it to them.”

“Are you the prince’s informant?”

“No. I don’t know how anyone else could suspect.”

“I don’t understand.”

“There isn’t time. No matter what happens to me, do not tell any Initiate about this book.”

“Shezdon, you really are scaring me now.”

“I mean it, no matter what happens to me, keep this a secret.”

“It’s just a book, isn’t it?”

He looked at me sadly. “You would have made a great Scholar, but you will be good at anything you try.” He kissed me on the cheek. “Secret. No matter what,” he repeated and then hurried away.

I took the package back to my room and opened it. Inside, I found a note and a very large, tattered book. On the cover, there were two lines. One line was in a language I had never seen before, which was unusual. The other was in Cuneiform, our most ancient language dating prior to the Dark Ages. It read, “The Edging of the World.” I opened the book to skim through the pages, but I did not recognize the lettering. I could only assume that it was the same language as on the front cover.

Intrigued, I opened the note.

Hailey-

You hold before you the secrets to destroying The Edge. The White Knights are looking for this book. They are an ancient sect of Weavers who are both powerful and dangerous. Under no circumstances can they recover this book. I was part of the White Knights, but I stopped believing in their mission years ago, but had no ability to break free. Strong Mist binds me from being able to reveal the others in the Brotherhood; else, I would name everyone that you should watch for. All I can tell you is to trust no Initiate.

I do not know if they will suspect that I gave this book to you. As the Custodian of the Book, I should be unable to speak to anyone outside of the White Knights about this book, but since the night of your apparition, I couldn’t think of doing anything except giving this book to you. Something is changing, and you are in the middle of it. I know that you will not let my sacrifice be wasted. Please, I beg of you, trust no Initiate.

- Shezdon

For several hours, I flipped through the book’s yellowed pages. I perched over it, taking notes on characters that repeated frequently and searching for any pattern—anything that might help decode the mystery language. In the morning, I would have to take the book to Nazarie, despite Shezdon’s insistence. As the Lead Scholar, Nazarie deserved to be notified about this treasure. But for now, the puzzle called to be solved. I flipped through the delicate petal-like pages of the book, wondering what secrets were locked within the text.

I wondered if these secrets could have anything to do with Prince Jaysen’s theories about a conspiracy. But this book was easily a thousand years old. How could any of this information be related to a modern conspiracy? And why did Shezdon keep mentioning that something might happen to him?

I kept tossing ideas around, but everything seemed outside the realm of possibilities. Were there some Weavers who were trying to align themselves with these White Knights and overrun the rule of the court? Is that how Altis managed to usurp the position of Lead Initiate? If things were connected, then this book had to be about the White Knights—if White Knights even existed.

I don’t know when I fell asleep, because the next thing I remembered was the Mist Apparition. “
The Book! The Book! Don’t give up the book! Tell no Initiate!”
I saw Shezdon. I saw the book. I saw dozens of other images flash, far too numerous to count and flipping too fast to recognize.

I sat bolt upright in my bed. Shezdon’s book lay open beneath me. Mist swirled around my room, but not as thickly as it had after my last apparition. Whatever sent the apparition sounded… scared. How could a Guardian be scared?

I heard a knock at my door, and Meena rushed in. “Have you heard?”

“No! What!”

“Scholar Shezdon died last night.”

“What?” There was no way that the book, the Apparition, and his death were coincidences. How could he be not there? I only saw him a few hours ago. The whole concept seemed surreal.

Meena gaped at the Mist. “Guardians’ balls,” she whispered.

I glared at her curse, but didn’t correct her.  Bigger things were going on.  And at the moment I wasn’t so sure I wanted to give any honor to the Guardians. It was their fault that I wasn’t studying to be a Scholar. “What about Shezdon? What happened?”

“Was this from an Apparition?” She went over to the Mist and swooshed her hands through it. It moved like thick smoke.

“What happened to Shezdon?” I repeated. The Guardians could wait.

“Nazarie is calling it old age. When my father heard, he sent me a note that said some of the soldiers don’t believe it was a natural death. He warned me to keep my head down. Something very big is going on.”

“I think I know why Shezdon died.” I shut the book and told Meena about my meeting with Shezdon last night and the Mist Apparition that I had. “And it said exactly what Shezdon had said: to tell no Initiate. Why would it say that?”

She sat down on my bed and stroked the book gently, her scholarly curiosity overcoming her fear. “The Edging of the World? What is this?” She opened the book to a random page. “Wait… can you read this?”

I shook my head. “No. It must be a dead language. The characters are so completely different from anything else I’ve seen. Some of the characters remind me of ancient Cuneiform, but not enough to give me even a tiny hint as to what the words mean.”

“What?” she hissed. I am not sure what her expression held—some combination of fear, surprise, and shock. Her fingers jumped back from the book as if it had burned her.

“What’s wrong? You’re acting weird.”

Meena didn’t respond for a moment. She opened and closed her mouth a few times and then went into the hallway and looked around, making sure no one was within earshot. “Listen. There isn’t any time to explain any of this. There is a rumor—myth, really—about someone prophesied to fix The Edge. A book was created that explained how this person could fix The Edge. Eventually the Scholars decided that the risk was too great—”

“What risk and what prophecy? Did you just read a bunch of your sister’s goblin stories?”

“They tried to destroy the book, but the Prophecy was too strong, and the book wound too tightly in it. The closest they could come was to blank out the pages of the book and hide it.”

“But
obviously
the pages aren’t blank,” I retorted.

“That’s the thing… I can’t see any symbols on these pages,” she said.

“Maybe we should ask Nazarie?”

“You can’t do that. She’s an Initiate.”

“She’s my aunt.”

“Your Apparition said no Initiates; do you think it’s coincidental? Any of this?”

“What is this myth? Why haven’t I heard it before?”

“Because, until I saw this book, I thought it was simply a story that my father would tell.” Meena’s eyes were wide with excitement. “But this must be a sign.”

“I’m going to go ask Nazarie,” I said.

“I’m sure that Nazarie has nothing to do with this, but whoever wanted this book is willing to kill in order to get their hands on it. The safest thing for her is to remain ignorant, or she will end up like Shezdon.”

“If this book does explain how to fix The Edge, why would anyone try to suppress it?”

Meena sucked on her lower lip, deep in thought.

“And what could politics and The Edge have in common?” I asked.

“I don’t know, but you need to hide that book. And I can help.”

That I didn’t doubt—she’d learned many legally questionable business practices at her father’s knee. What exactly, we never went into detail about, but her father had gone from a poor boy fresh from the country to one of the wealthiest merchants in the city. He never hurt good people, but he did know how to negotiate with all levels of society.

“Didn’t your father tell you to keep your head down? I don’t want to put you at risk.”

“I don’t think they will suspect Apprentices. What about hiding the book in the library? Hide it in plain sight,” she suggested.

“No, it should be somewhere that Shezdon wouldn’t have hidden it,” I responded. “If people are trying to find the book, that’s where they would look first.”

“Right.” She exhaled slowly. “I have an idea. There is a contact of my father’s who can help keep this safe. He is very discreet. No one will think that Shezdon would have taken it outside the Keep.”

“Meena, that’s really dangerous. If you got caught...”

“I’ve smuggled worse than this.” Rumor had it that, on her eleventh birthday, she started smuggling contraband into the Keep for some of the guard, in order to gain their allegiance for her father, and she has been doing it on and off ever since. I never wanted to know the details, but supposedly it had been her idea.

“Hailey,” she said after a moment. “I’m doing it for Shezdon. He was my mentor, too.”

I agreed grudgingly and handed her the book. “I don’t like keeping this from Nazarie, but you are right, it would be too dangerous for her.” For a moment, I pulled it closer toward me, but it would be safer with Meena. “Fine. Promise me you’ll be careful.”

She put the book under her shawl and headed to the door. “Meena?”

She turned back and looked at me.

“Thanks.”

#  #  #

I walked around the rest of the day in a haze. I hated hiding this from Nazarie. It made me feel sick. She’d been twice accused in less than twelve hours. Once by the prince, and once by Shezdon hours before he died. Maybe Prince Jaysen’s informant wasn’t really an informant, but someone planting false suspicions. But--short of warning Nazarie--there was nothing I could do. And the only way to warn her would be to tell her the whole truth about the book, and thus putting her in possible danger. I had two choices: honor Shezdon’s last wish or warn Nazarie that people whispered against her.

There was to be no formal investigation. The queen supported Nazarie’s conclusions, agreeing Shezdon had died of old age. In all fairness, it’s not surprising for a seventy-year-old to die in his sleep. And he’d made me promise not to tell, no matter what happened to him. He must have known.

Whenever my mind found itself without an activity, I’d think of Shezdon and tears would choke the back of my throat. I tried hard to stay busy. I would have plenty of opportunities to confide in Nazarie in the future. Today, I would keep Shezdon’s secret. It would be my way of honoring him.

Eventually, I couldn’t push off ending the day and returned to my room. I opened my door to discover that everything in my room had been torn apart. Dresser shelves were pulled out and clothes were scattered. Papers and binders were strewn about the room. Obviously, someone thought that Shezdon had given me the book, but I couldn't imagine why anyone would think that he had.

After taking a few breaths to compose myself and stop shaking, I walked across the common room to Meena’s room as calmly as I could. When she answered the door, I didn’t say anything, just motioned with my head that she needed to follow me, which she did.

When she saw my papers, books, and clothes jumbled chaotically around my room, a mixture of fear and surprised darted across her face, but then she started to laugh. “Your students are crazy! Which do you think it was?”

“What!” I could feel my jaw drop. How could she think that little kids did this?

“Well, at least you know that you’ll be missed,” she prattled. Comprehension took a moment, but then it dawned on me. If I acted like I had something to hide, I would seem guilty. If someone had torn my room apart, I was being watched just like Shezdon had been. I had better not give them anything to confirm their suspicions.

“Right,” I said, not knowing what else to say.

“You should probably report it in case it happens to another teacher.”

“But it’s obviously not students.”

“Report it,” she repeated. “Write your aunt. She’s the Lead Scholar. Tell her that you think a student did this. You don’t want her to look into it, but in case it happens to another teacher, you want it noted.”

And then I understood. This way, I’d be playing along. I wrote to Nazarie, hating that I was lying to her. I don’t think that I’d ever lied to her before, but the less she knew the safer she would be, and in turn, the safer both Meena and I would be.