Master Violetta said quietly, “You broke your faith.”
My heart skipped a beat. “No. That cannot be so. I am faithful to the Light, to the mission. It is all I am.”
Master Violetta continued, “Your power is fueled by your belief, your faith. The only reason you may lose it is to subverted faith.” She looked at me curiously.
Master Wu addressed Ylang this time. “He broke the faith. He is not fit to serve our Temple anymore. I told you this would happen. You coddled your precious golden boy.” The last words were said in a sneer.
Master Ylang’s voice cracked through the room. “My ward has gone through the trials as every Chevalier has and at each turn excelled past expectation.”
Hope sprung inside me. Master Ylang could make them see how dedicated I was. My life was theirs. I did not break the faith. I’d make them see that.
My Master’s cloudy eyes froze over. “Yet my ward has turned his back on his Order and against the Light. Chevalier, you are to stay confined to your quarters. Until further notice, you are to no longer have any contact with the Propheros. Do you understand?”
My jaw tightened but I bowed deeply then turned on my heel and left. Before the door shut behind me, I heard Master Violetta call in a servant to the Order and say, “Call for my ward. Bond or no bond, Ylang’s ward is no longer fit to protect the Propheros.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN
It didn’t sit right.
In my quarters, I tried to push away the blasphemies Emma had spoken and focused on my faith in my Order. Counting out thirty pushups, I moved to doing them one-handed in an attempt to expel the harmful thoughts from my mind.
It just wouldn’t sit right though. My thoughts and feelings couldn’t be tamed. There was so much I didn’t know. Before I could give my actions too much thought, I pulled on my usual mission clothes and slipped from my room and made my way to the sacred reading room. Silently, I closed the door behind me, knowing if I was caught, my Masters would flay the skin from my body. Which would be ridiculous as I’m unable to read and thus, as helpless as a babe in here.
The circular room was small but at least four stories high, packed with books. The mustiness, tinged by the vanilla of aged papers, was cloying in the small space. Many books were pulled regularly, but most were buried in blankets of dust, especially those several rows above my head. The ladders were impossibly tall and looked precarious at best. Of course, my Masters had bird-like frames, so their weight wouldn’t jeopardize the stick-thin ladders crawling up the walls.
In the center of the room sat a podium displaying a large, leather bound book. The skylight twenty feet up filtered rays of late-afternoon sun down onto it. The sacred text of the Light. Casting my eyes upon it sent a shiver of fear through me for my irreverence. What was I doing? Even with the scant few words I’d learned for navigation purposes, I didn’t stand a chance at reading what the book said about Emma. I could sneak Emma in here to read the book, but I didn’t want her to see me break my faith. If I were to bring her in here, the betrayal would be sealed. It would be confirming to her that I no longer trusted the people who made me what I am.
“I do trust them,” I insisted to myself, my words swallowed up by the stacks of books. I just… also needed to prove it for myself. My face dropped into my hands and I let out a frustrated sigh.
Then an idea struck me. I slipped back out of the reading room as quietly as I came in. It didn’t take long to find Travis and bring him back with me.
“Are you going to tell me what this is about?” he protested as I shoved him inside and shut the heavy door behind us. He had bathed and been provided with light linen pants and matching shirt, but earlier I had heard his voice carry down the halls demanding to know where his Metallica shirt had gone. It appeared as though they got it washed and returned because he wore the billowy pants but with the freshly washed, still-damp Metallica shirt. I wondered briefly whether it was a family heirloom like Emma’s necklace.
“Shh,” I cautioned, speaking in a low voice, hoping he would follow suit. “I need your help.”
He crossed his arms. “Why should I help you? Since I met you, it’s been nothing but a crazy train, man.”
“Because if I hadn’t been there at the liquor store, your soul would have been consumed by that malevolent spirit.”
His arms dropped as did his mouth as he tried to formulate a fitting retort.
“Please, Travis.” I begged.
With a sigh and slump of his shoulders, I knew he would help. I turned for him to follow me to the book. “I need you to tell me what the book says.”
“What makes you think I can read some archaic word of your gods?” he groused but followed me.
“I believe it is in text you can understand.”
“Then why don’t you read it?” he asked, still petulant.
“Because no one ever taught me to read.”
That seemed to shut him up and take some of the sulk out of him too. “Oh.”
I opened the book up to where I remember Master Ylang reading to me about the Propheros. I remembered about how many more pages were weighted to the left side from my vantage point.
“Read this, please,” I added. “If you can.”
