by Brian Farrey
My hand hovered over the parchment, unmoving. It should have been a simple matter. I didn’t even need to learn the ancient language. I just had to copy what I saw. But I couldn’t stop thinking about what that would mean.
Aubrin would have a vision of me writing the message. The message would get translated by the assassin-monks. And as a result, Edilman would steal the Sourcefire.
And then he would die.
How could I do this? How could I write this message, knowing what was going to happen?
“You’re doing that now? Here?” Aubrin shuffled up the broken street.
“I might as well get it over with,” I said. I pressed the tip of the quill to the parchment. But I still couldn’t write.
“It’s hard,” Aubrin said. “But you know it has to happen.”
“If I do this,” I said, “Edilman dies. Holm, Gobek, Oberax . . . they all died because of this one message. What if I don’t write it? What if I never tell Edilman he can be redeemed by stealing the Sourcefire? Won’t that save him?”
Aubrin knelt at my feet. “Remember the marbles back at the Creche? How they all have to fall into line for a prophecy to come true? Well, sometimes the marbles don’t fall in line. Some marbles never come to be.”
She picked at the rubble and found two round stones. “The visions show what could be. When I was in the Creche, the other seers shared their visions with me. In some”—she held up one of the stones—“you didn’t write that note. And as a result”—she held up the other stone—“Edilman didn’t steal the Sourcefire. Which means he didn’t break the Palatinate’s control over the beasts. Which means the beasts never turned against the Palatinate in the canyon. They kept fighting alongside their masters . . . until everyone in the rebellion was dead.”
She tossed the stones aside.
I swallowed. “That . . . could have happened?”
She shrugged. “Maybe. These prophecies aren’t exactly precise. I don’t think they can ever fully predict what will happen. People are just too . . . random. We make choices. Choices change everything. It’s why I didn’t know Edilman was going to die. He made a choice no one could foresee.”
I thought about what Edilman had told me. He said that I would write this message because I knew for sure how things played out. I knew it was the only way to make sure things worked out for the best. And he was right. Not writing this would make things far worse.
With steady hands, I copied the message from Aubrin’s journal onto the parchment. It was unnerving, knowing that right this very moment—well, several months ago—Aubrin was having a vision of my hands replicating the language I couldn’t read. She didn’t know it was me writing it, only that it was important. The most important thing I’d ever write.
I finished the message, folded the parchment, and wrote EAJ on the outside. “That should do it.”
Aubrin paged through her journal. “I can finally throw this away. I don’t ever want to have any more visions like this.”
“Well,” I said, “you can’t control that, now can you? You are the augur. Most powerful seer in generations, I hear.”
She pinched my arm and walked back toward the camp.
Choices change everything.
She was right. I used to think I had to be a thief. Then I thought I had to continue studying with the Dowager. Both were true. And both were false. I had a choice. I still had a choice. Move home with Ma and Da. Go off with the Dowager. I bet I could even have chosen to follow the Sarosans all over the land if I wanted.
Not that I would ever, ever do that. First Rise is far too early to get up just for a drink of water.
I lay back and closed my eyes, just so I could feel the sun on my face. I banished thoughts of prophecies and colored marbles. None of that mattered. I knew now that I could—and would—make anything happen. It wasn’t just about who to live with. I could be the next Castellan of Vengekeep. I could rise to the exalted stature of Master Thief of Jarron Province.
I could be something that had never, ever occurred to anyone.
I simply had to choose.
Right there and then, I chose to take a nap.
Hey, choosing your future is exhausting work, y’know.
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About the Author
BRIAN FARREY acquires young adult fiction for Flux. He and he alone has the power to make you an honorary Grimjinx. (You know you want it.) He lives in St. Paul, Minnesota, and you can find him online at www.grimjinx.com.
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Credits
Cover art © 2014 by Brett Helquist
Cover design by Sarah Creech, based on series design by Megan Stitt
Copyright
The Grimjinx Rebellion
Copyright © 2014 by Brian Farrey
Interior illustrations and cover art copyright © 2014 by Brett Helquist
All rights reserved under International and Pan-American Copyright Conventions. By payment of the required fees, you have been granted the nonexclusive, nontransferable right to access and read the text of this ebook on screen. No part of this text may be reproduced, transmitted, decompiled, reverse engineered, or stored in or introduced into any information storage and retrieval system, in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, now known or hereafter invented, without the express written permission of HarperCollins e-books.
www.harpercollinschildrens.com
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Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data
Farrey, Brian.
The Grimjinx rebellion / Brian Farrey. — First edition.
pages cm
Sequel to: The Shadowhand Covenant.
Summary: When the Palatinate Mages unveil their plot to take over the Five Provinces, thirteen-year-old Jaxter Grimjinx and his family of thieves must lead the rebellion to overthrow them.
ISBN 978-0-06-204934-6 (hardcover)
[1. Swindlers and swindling—Fiction. 2. Magic—Fiction. 3. Fantasy.] I. Title.
PZ7.F24614Gr 2014
2013043194
[Fic]—dc23
CIP
AC
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EPUB Edition © SEPTEMBER 2014 ISBN 9780062049360
14 15 16 17 18 CG/RRDH 10 9 8 7 6 5 4 3 2 1
FIRST EDITION
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