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Smiling, I briefly glanced at the trunk that was unreachable once more. Now that I thought about it, it made sense my father had been a natural healer. That was the reason he knew so much about medications and remedies, why he worked at the pharmacy back on Earth.
Untying the leather cord still wrapped around the journal, I closed my eyes, and prepared to fan its pages.
“You read with your eyes closed?” Kingston asked, baffled, and I couldn’t help but laugh.
“My mom had this thing about books. She always said they contained lessons meant for us, and in order to find the one needed, we should open the book in an unexpected place.” I shrugged. “I figured this is as good a time as any to try her method.”
Considering it, Kingston nodded. “Go ahead.”
With a settling breath, I closed my eyes again, and fanned the pages in my hold. Suddenly pointing at a random page with my index finger—like Mom used to do—I looked at the place where it landed, reading the passage written there.
“It occurs to me that the most meaningful plea a man can make,
doesn’t come from our words, but from the depths of our heart.
Perhaps, that is the one thing that moves us all. The one power that connects us.
The one reason the sky gods answered my desperate prayer that horrible day…”
The beauty and pain imbued within his penmanship sliced my insides, so I read the words over and over again, trying to grasp the meaning behind them. Part of me wondered what horrible day he was referring to, part of me didn’t want to know.
“What does it say?”
Remaining silent, I handed the journal to the chief. He looked at it for several moments, but when I glanced at him, I realized his gaze wasn’t following the lines. He was glaring at the page, seeming lost, or just pissed.
“You read it,” he growled, pushing the book back into my chest. I blinked, suddenly understanding what was happening.
“Kingston…” I paused, trying to find a way to ask the question in a way that wouldn’t insult him, but I wasn’t sure there was one. “Were you ever taught how to read?”
Frowning, he looked away, shaking his head. “Only high-ranking officers of the sentry were taught, since they dealt directly with the king and the royal family.”
“Then, how did my father learn?”
“I don’t know,” the chief shrugged.
“I understand.” Standing, I lifted the notebook and read the passage to him, seeing the light change in his eyes with the beautiful words.
“What do you think it means?” he asked, inspecting the journal in my hands.
“I don’t know yet, but it will come to me.”
Turning around, we began to walk, but I just couldn’t seem to let that go. “Evanna never tried to teach you how to read or write?”
A frustrated sigh left him, signaling he had his fill of the conversation. “I didn’t want her to. I had more important things to worry about, like training the army, guarding the princess, and keeping everyone safe. That is all I was born to do.”
“Fine. Then I will teach you.”
Twirling his spear open, he grunted and marched out of the room faster than I expected, jumping over the first flight of broken stairs and forcing me to run after him.
