Curse of the Forbidden Book by Amy Lynn Green

grating voice like Jesse had expected.
    The man took a step forward. His protruding jaw had a thick growth of whiskers…and thick coat of grime. Jesse had been wrong. The other thief, the one that the foreigner had left unconscious in the alley, was not the dirtiest man alive. This one had more dirt on him than skin.
    â€œYou shouldn’t wander around on your own in places like this,” he continued, “especially after attacking a friend of mine.”
    â€œI didn’t think he had any friends,” Jesse managed, eyes darting around for a way of escape. He found none.
    The man growled at that. “Shut your mouth.”
    The others had already escaped from the alley. They probably don’t even know I’m not with them. Jesse backed away, running into the wall behind him. Trapped.
    â€œDon’t think about calling for help, either,” the man said, reaching into his cloak. “First, the Patrol here don’t give fish guts for people like you or me. Second,” he jerked his knife, a crude, homemade creation and smiled darkly. “I might have to make things difficult for you if you say a word.”
    He took another step forward, holding the knife high, then laughed. “I may anyway,” he said casually. “It’s been a while since my last blood.”
    What now? Jesse thought in panic, eyes fixed on the dagger that was getting closer and closer. The man had clearly ruled out the option of calling for the Patrol. With his crippled leg, he couldn’t run away. There was little chance that someone would stumble into the alley, and even less that they would care enough to help.
    God, I’m in trouble , Jesse prayed, his eyes darting frantically around for a solution. Help me! Nothing elaborate or eloquent, but Parvel had told Jesse that God didn’t need formal petitions.
    I’ve only got one chance . With the man’s cruel eyes fixed on him, hoping to see Jesse flinch as the knife came toward his face, Jesse knew that he would see his movement.
    Now! He widened his eyes, as if looking at something startling behind the man. Then, just as quickly, he jerked his eyes away and pretended that he had not seen anything.
    â€œWhat? Who’s there?” the man growled, turning around to face the imaginary threat, just at Jesse had hoped he would.
    That brief moment was all Jesse needed. He imitated the foreigner’s move, hitting the man as hard as he could in the stomach with his walking stick. There was a loud thud as the heavy wood connected.
    The man roared in outrage, but Jesse was already running, dragging his left leg uselessly behind him. Will it give me enough of a lead? he thought desperately.
    A quick glance over his shoulder gave him the answer. No . The man was quickly gaining on him, and the street was still too far away.
    â€œCome here, you,” the man growled, reaching out to grab Jesse. He ducked desperately to the side, letting the man stumble past him.
    The man wheeled around and stabbed blindly at him with the knife. Jesse ducked into a doorway, and the knife plunged into the wood just inches from his face. The man cursed and struggled to pull it loose, blocking Jesse’s line of escape with his huge frame.
    Then the man suddenly slumped to the ground, the knife still plunged into the wood of the doorframe.
    Shaking, Jesse stepped out from the doorway. A rock near the man’s head explained the sudden fall. He glanced all around to see who had thrown it, but there was no one in sight.
    Jesse started to run out of the alley, eager to be among people again. First, though, he bent down and examined the man. He reeked of cheap liquor, and his dirty shirt rose and fell evenly.
    â€œHe’ll live,” a grim voice said. “His kind always lives.”
    Jesse looked up in the direction of the voice. “Silas!”
    â€œYou didn’t think we’d leave you, did you?” He was perched on the roof of the nearest