Michal eyed him, then sauntered back to Gabil’s side and turned around. But he didn’t answer the question. “There are a few other details you will need to know. We can tell you that one of the books hides in the west.”

“There aren’t any forests west of here,” Johnis protested. “We’d turn to Scabs without water.”

“You’ll find water,” Gabil, the odder of the two, said. “Do you think we’d let such a cute face shrivel into Scab flesh?”

“Where to the west are these books?”

“We don’t know,” Michal said. “If we did, we wouldn’t be here talking to you.”

“This is impossible! We can’t just head west and find six missing books in the desert! The Horde lives out there, for Elyon’s sake.”

“The Horde is the least of your worries,” Michal said. “You don’t believe me? Have you lost the simple belief you once had as a child?”

“I’m not saying that. I’m—”

“Yes, you are. Go west! Find your destiny. Find the books. And if you die, so be it. You’ve been chosen!”

A long stretch of silence separated them.

“I knew it, I knew it,” Gabil whispered. “What did I tell you, Michal? He’s going to accept!”

“He hasn’t accepted yet,” Michal mumbled.

Johnis tried to stall them. “What are the other details?”

“You’ll need the other three.”

“The other three hate me. I may need them, but they don’t need me.”

“If you can’t convince them to follow you, you will pay a terrible and immediate price.”

“They call me Scrapper.”

“Shut your yapper, Scrapper,” Gabil said, chuckling. He saw the insensitivity of his comment right away and covered his mouth with a wing. “Oh, sorry! Sorry, that wasn’t nice, was it?”

So the Roush had been near enough to overhear Billos on the trail. That gave Johnis some confidence. And there was this book on the sand. And the Roush themselves, not to mention the fact that Gabil had rescued him.

“Furthermore,” Michal said, “you can’t breathe a word of this to anyone else, only the four of you. Do you understand? Under no circumstances will you tell any living person in this world anything you learn on your quest.”

Johnis thought about it all. A faraway cry carried into the bowl.

He faced the Roush, still hot in the face. “So it’s as simple as that, is it? ‘Just go west and find the six missing Books of History filled with enough power to destroy all humanity, lad. Never mind that you aren’t a fighter. Never mind that you’re out here by mistake. Never mind that the others hate you. You’ve got the mark. You were chosen.’ ”

“Yes,” Michal said.

“And how do we escape these Horde?”