Pucker Read Online Free PDF Page A

prophesizing.”
    â€œProphesizing?” I said weakly.
    â€œTelling the future,” said Cook.
    â€œMy parents loved their jobs,” I protested, but even as I said it, I knew it wasn’t true.
    â€œThey did not love their gift,” said Cook. “What do you think all those meetings were about at your house?”
    I closed my eyes. “Dinner parties,” I whispered.
    â€œNo,” said Cook gently.
    â€œBut they would have known what would happen. They would have foreseen that somebody was coming to skin them. They would have foreseen this!” I pointed at my face.
    â€œThey didn’t know what would happen to you or to them, Thomas. They didn’t take you to the Ministry that morning, remember? They didn’t read for each other either,” said Cook.
    I gasped. Suddenly I understood what I had done. My mother had been telling me the truth after all. My parents had been made an example of, punished for their traitorous thoughts, and I had told Otak where my mother was hiding. I cried out with shame.
    â€œDon’t blame yourself,” said Cook. “She would have had to meet with them sooner or later. You just made it sooner.”
    She was right, of course, but I would never forgive myself.
    Â 
    That night I was shaken awake. I blinked rapidly, like an owl. It was my mother. Without her Seerskin she was so ordinary. It was hard for me to look at her.
    â€œWake up, Thomas. We have to leave.”
    â€œYou’re back,” I cried. I didn’t realize until that second that the Ministry could have done something far worse to her than take her skin.
    She nodded. “Get up. You can walk. There’s nothing wrong with your legs.”
    â€œWhere are we going?”
    â€œWe’re leaving Isaura,” she said. Her lips worked silently for a moment. “We’ve been exiled.”
    â€œNo,” I wailed.
    â€œYes,” she said.
    â€œJust tell them you’re sorry. Apologize,” I begged her.
    â€œI’m sorry; I can’t do that.”
    â€œPlease!”
    â€œI have no choice,” she said.
    â€œThey can’t make us go. We’ll hide. We’ll go to the mountains. They won’t find us.”
    She shook her head miserably. “There’s no place for us here anymore. Don’t make me say it again, Thomas. Get up. Now. ”
    â€œBut Cook—” I began.
    â€œCook has new patients to attend to.”
    â€œShe wouldn’t let me go. I’m not well enough.”
    â€œShe wants you to come with me.”
    â€œI don’t believe you.”
    â€œThat’s too bad; nevertheless, you’re coming,” she said firmly, tugging the blanket off me.
    â€œBut I have to say goodbye,” I cried. “I can’t just leave!”
    â€œShe told me to give you this.”
    My mother pressed a book into my hand, my Barker’s. Suddenly I knew I’d never see Cook again.
    Â 
    The Ministry had exiled us to Earth. Later I would consult Barker’s and find that there was no record of anything like this ever happening: our family was the first to be banished from Isaura.
    We went by way of horse and carriage. My mother whispered to a man whose voice I didn’t recognize. We traveled deep into the woods, and to calm myself, I pretended we were taking a marvelous journey to the Northlands. Marvelous. A word from a life that was no longer mine. I tried not to touch my face, since it was streaked with pus and blood.
    An hour later we climbed out of the carriage. As soon as our feet touched the ground, the driver left. I was too weak to walk, so my mother carried me through a tunnel of laurel. The tunnel’s mouth was wide and got narrower as we walked farther in. It felt like we were being telescoped. At the end of the tunnel we either began to rise or fall; I couldn’t tell which. Perhaps it didn’t matter—perhaps rising and falling were the same thing. But