Watt-Evans, Lawrence - Annals of the Chosen 01 (47 page)

"My
parents
told
me
the
Wizard
Lord
spent
his
time
hunting
down
rogue
wizards,"
Breaker
said.

"But
if
there
aren't
any
..."

"I
thought
there
were,"
the
Seer
interrupted.
"I
swear
by all
the
ler,
I
thought
there
were
still
rogues,
and
they
had simply
gotten
better
at
hiding
themselves.
When
the
Wizard Lord
told
us
he
had
wiped
out
a
nest
of
them
at
Stoneslope
I believed
him,
because
I
wanted
to
believe
him—it
meant
the system
was
working.
But
I
should
have
checked,
I
shouldn't have
just
accepted
it
without
question
for
five
years!"
Her face
crumpled
as
if
she
were
struggling
to
hold
back
tears; Breaker
had
never
before
seen
a
woman
her
age
look
like that.

"But
there's
no
real
harm
done,"
Breaker
said
soothingly. "He
didn't
kill
anyone
else—well,
not
until
today.
And
now we
know,
and
we'll
stop
him."

"But
the
guide—if
I
had
checked
years
ago,
she might
..."

"She
might
have
been
just
as
horribly
dead
five
years sooner,"
Breaker
said.
"And
when
you
saw
your
mistake, you
set
out
to
correct
it,
didn't
you?
And
here
we
are."

"But
five years!
"

"Are
you
worried
about
the
ghosts
of
the
dead
that
cannot rest
until
they're
avenged?"
the
Archer
asked.
"I've
heard that
they
aren't
really
aware
of
the
passage
of
time."

"I
don't
..."
Breaker
began,
but
then
he
was
interrupted by
a
shove
at
his
elbow.
He
turned
to
see
a
plump
woman heaving
a
large,
heavily
loaded
tray
onto
the
table.

"Your
supper,"
she
said.

"At
last!"
the
Archer
said,
and
for
the
next
twenty
minutes ho
one
mentioned
Dark
Lords
or
rogue
wizards;
for
the
most part
the
conversation
was
limited
to
requests
to
have
one food
or
another
handed
over
or
replenished.

The
Beauty
took
her
dinner
to
a
room
upstairs,
to
eat
in private;
the
Archer
watched
her
go,
but
then,
resigned
to
not yet
seeing
her
face,
returned
his
attention
to
the
meal.

Few
townspeople
appeared
at
the
inn
that
evening; although
the
rain
had
stopped
the
wind
still
howled through
the
muddy
streets,
and
few
cared
to
venture out
in
such
conditions.
Those
who
did
appear
did
not
intrude on
the
party
of
strangers.
Thus
the
six
of
them—seven, when
the
Beauty
emerged
again
from
her
room—were
able to
discuss
and
plan.

"We
can
expect
storms
every
inch
of
the
way,"
the
Leader said,
"and
I,
for
one,
don't
want
to
slog
through
them
the way
we
did
today.
We
need
a
wagon.
A
covered
one
that
will keep
the
rain
off."

"Solidly
enclosed,
I
would
say,"
the
Archer
said.
"A
cloth covering
will
be
blown
away
or
flogged
to
pieces."

"Good
point—yes,
a
good
solid
wagon,
all
wood."

"What
will
lightning
do
to
a
wooden
wagon?"
Breaker asked.

The
Leader
frowned,
then
looked
at
the
Scholar.

"Lightning
can
shatter
trees,
or
set
them
afire,"
the Scholar
said.
"I'd
suppose
it
can
do
the
same
to
a
wooden wagon."

"What
can
we
do
about
it?"

The
Scholar
hesitated.
"I'm
not
sure,"
he
said.
"There
are a
few
very
old
stories—I
suppose
they
must
be
true,
since
I remember
them,
but
I
don't
know
what
they
mean.
One speaks
of
a
thing
called
a
'lightning
rod,'
made
of
copper
or iron,
but
I
don't
know
what
one
would
look
like,
or
how
it would
work,
or
how
we
could
make
it."

"Metal?"
the
Speaker
asked.

Startled,
the
Scholar
turned.
"Yes,
metal."

"But
metal
draws
lightning,
it
doesn't
keep
it
away."

"Does
it?
How?"
the
Leader
asked.

The
Speaker
looked
confused,
then
turned
to
the
empty air
and
murmured
gibberish
for
a
moment,
then
cocked
her head
as
if
listening.
The
others
waited.

At
last,
she
spoke.

"Lightning
is
...
not
a
fluid,
but
something
that
behaves somewhat
like
a
fluid.
It
seeks
the
ground,
as
water
seeks
to flow
downward.
To
lightning,
the
air
is
like
sand
is
to water—it
seeps
through
it
by
the
easiest
route,
though
a thousand
thousand
times
faster
than
water
through
sand. And
metal—to
lightning,
metal
is
a
hole
in
the
sand,
a
hole in
the
air.
The
ler
of
lightning
will
seek
out
metal
as
a
path through
the
air,
a
shortcut
to
the
ground."

"Oh,
but
then
a
lightning
rod
is
easy
to
understand!"
the Scholar
said
enthusiastically.
"A
metal
rod
reaching
from above
the
wagon
down
to
the
ground
will
draw
the
lightning through
it,
and
it
will
all
pass
through
so
quickly
it
won't have
time
to
harm
the
wood!"