The Hidden Blade by Sherry Thomas Read Free Book Online

shook Herb’s hand, he grasped the latter’s forearm too.
    “I hoped you would come.” Father’s voice quavered with gratitude.
    “You knew I would,” said Herb, “the second you sent word.”
    They gazed at each other. It was only for a moment, but Leighton suddenly felt as if he ought to be elsewhere.
    “Father, may I go do some shooting by myself?” he asked.
    “Of course.” Father beamed. “Make sure you are back in time for dinner. Tonight we shall feast.”
    Leighton strode away from the house—no one would notice that he didn’t have his firearm with him. And he didn’t want to shoot anything; he only wanted walk and run and savor this burst of brightness in his heart.
    Which was followed by a gnawing fear: Did Father and Herb truly risk eternal condemnation?
    He walked for a long time before the cloud in his heart dissipated: He knew nothing about eternity, but he was certain that if they could
not
be together, then they were condemned for this life.
    He was glad that Father had asked Herb to return. He was glad that Herb would remain in their lives. And he would never be anything but glad and grateful that they were now a family again.

    Leighton cocked the air rifle, aimed, exhaled, and pulled the trigger.
    “Excellent,” came Herb’s voice behind him. “Bull’s-eye.”
    “It’s all right,” said Leighton, though he was quite pleased with the shot. He was using an archery target that he had found in one of the outbuildings on the estate, and his pellet had struck dead center.
    “No shooting today?”
    “Doesn’t seem fair to disturb the grouse day after day.”
    “You are as kind as your father,” said Herb, his eyes shining.
    To grouse, maybe. To people, Leighton wasn’t so sure. He didn’t have Herb’s easy embrace of others, nor Father’s ready compassion.
    "And you must have grown two inches since I last saw you,” Herb went on.
    “Only three-quarters of an inch.”
    His increase in height had been much remarked upon the past few weeks, especially on Sundays, after church. Usually the comments embarrassed him and made him feel like a puppy that had sprouted a second tail. But Herb’s observation was friendly and matter-0f-fact, reminding Leighton that he did rather relish becoming taller.
    They began walking in the direction of the house—it was almost tea time.
    “Do you know what I did this summer?” asked Herb. “I gave my jade tablet for appraisal.”
    Decades ago, Herb’s father had brought back two nearly identical tablets from China—two out of the three clues to the location of the treasure, if one believed the legend. Herb had given one to Father and kept the other for himself.
    “Were you going to sell it?” Leighton’s voice was more alarmed than he had meant for it to be.
    “No, absolutely not! Before they were…Well, they were once my father’s engagement present to my mother. I was thinking of the British Museum.”
    Leighton exhaled. “Oh, that’s all right, then.”
    “That’s what I said to myself: It’s quite all right if it ended up in a temple of art and history, admired by millions. But before I could do that, I needed to make sure that it really was a valuable antique, and not just on my father’s say-so.”
    “What did the appraiser say?”
    “Ah, the appraiser. I’m sure I proved quite a trying client—he had to write me three times before I returned to speak to him. Two weeks ago I called on him at last, and he told me that he would put the tablet at about a thousand years old, dating from the middle of the ninth century.”
    A true antique, then.
    “And remember the legend about the treasure?” Herb went on.
    “Did the appraiser know about it?”
    “No, he didn’t. But when I mentioned it, he was able to provide some historical context. The persecution the Buddhist monks feared actually came to pass. After a tremendous flourishing of the religion earlier in the Tang Dynasty, there came an emperor who both hated foreign