Curse of the Forbidden Book by Amy Lynn Green

seen it done in an actual fight.”
    Before Parvel had even finished speaking, the knight’s left hand struck out at Prince Corin.
    And found nothing there.
    Prince Corin had used the split second while the knight was executing his trick play to leap on top of the wooden barrier, balancing on the edge.
    Only it wasn’t balancing, not like Jesse and his friend Eli had done on the bridge as children, tottering back and forth. Prince Corin was just standing there, as steady as if he was on the ground.
    â€œYou were right,” Jesse shouted to Parvel over the noise of the amused crowd. “The knight knows all the tricks of Amarias. But he doesn’t know the ones of the island of Dagen.”
    After the slightest of pauses, probably from sheer surprise, Jesse decided, the knight was back to fighting as if there was nothing unusual about directing blows at an opponent who stood a distance above you.
    The first few blows did nothing at all. Prince Corin danced around them as if they were nothing but a troublesome fly. Finally, with a frustrated shout, the knight drew back and cut the air with his sword as if he were a reaper taking down a sheaf of wheat.
    To the delight of the crowd, Prince Corin just jumped into the air, avoiding the blow altogether. As he came down, landing neatly with both feet on the barrier, he lightly tapped the knight’s helmet with his sword—twice.
    The crowd roared with laughter. “Now this is a show!” a raspy-voiced old man declared. “Almost hope he makes it to the next round, just to see what he’ll do next.”
    This latest trick appeared to make the knight angry, because he struck out harder than ever. Keeping his shield up higher to block the blows from above, he swung his sword toward Prince Corin.
    A step to the side was all that Prince Corin needed to do to dodge it.
    â€œHe’s playing with the knight,” Silas said, sounding amazed. “Wearing him down, making him angry.”
    Prince Corin hardly seemed to be the same weary, surrendered opponent he had just minutes before. He kept raining blows down on the knight, not doing any major damage, but not getting hurt either. Mostly, he just used his incredible balance and speed to avoid the knight at every turn.
    â€œHe was faking, all the time,” Jesse said, his voice rising. “He wasn’t tired at all. He was getting the knight to let his guard down.”
    If Silas and Parvel heard, they didn’t respond. They, like everyone else, were staring straight ahead.
    Jesse turned back to the arena, just in time to see Prince Corin jump into the air, launching himself, feet first, at the knight. It’s not possible!
    With one last shout, the knight fell. Prince Corin seemed to turn in mid-air, landing neatly beside him in the sawdust and touching his sword to the knight’s chest.
    Everything else was drowned out by the roaring of the crowd.
    â€œHe did it!” Jesse shouted, pumping his walking stick into the air in his excitement. “I can’t believe it! Isn’t it great?”
    But Parvel wasn’t listening. He was staring at the other side of the arena. “Silas, Jesse, look!” He pointed.
    Jesse had been so caught up in the action of the swordfight that he hadn’t paid much attention to the stands. There, sitting on the ground next to the royal stand, was Rae. As Jesse watched, she stood and began to make her way through the crowd.
    â€œCome on,” Parvel urged, breaking into a run. “We have to talk to her!”
    Jesse followed, limping along with his cane. For once, he was glad for the swarm of people, because it slowed Silas and Parvel, allowing him to keep up.
    â€œRae!” Jesse called, though he knew she was too far away to hear. He pushed through the crowd as Rae hurried toward the wall of the palace.
    She didn’t turn, and, after speaking a few words to a Patrol member at a door in the palace wall, ducked