Watt-Evans, Lawrence - Annals of the Chosen 01 (64 page)

Breaker
had
agreed
to
be
a
hero,
and
now
the
time
had come
to
mean
it,
to
be
a
hero,
despite
what
it
would
cost him.
He
couldn't
surrender,
couldn't
give
in
to
the
Wizard Lord's
threats,
even
if
it
meant
his
own
family
would
die.

He
thought
he
was
going
to
throw
up.

He
had
thought
of
heroism
in
the
form
of
flashing
swords and
braving
magical
assaults,
not
of
letting
his
unsuspecting sisters
be
murdered.

"Give
it
up,"
the
ox
said.
"Go
home."

"I
can't,"
Breaker
whispered.
"You
know
I
can't."

"You're
only
making
it
worse,"
the
Leader
said.
"You
surrender,
resign,
go
home—no
one
more
needs
to
die."

"Go
home?"
the
ox
lowed.
"To
where?
To
what?"

Breaker's
memory
of
Stoneslope
reemerged,
and
he
shuddered.

"I
am
the
Wizard
Lord,"
the
ox
said.
"I
will
always
be
the Wizard
Lord;
I
will
never
return
to
anything
less."

"Then
you'll
die,"
the
Leader
said.
"Is
that
really
better?"

"We
all
die,
sooner
or
later,"
the
ox
replied.
"Even
the name
of
the
Council
of
Immortals,
like
everything
else
they say,
is
a
lie.
We
all
die—but
the
question
is
when,
and
rest assured,
if
you
continue
your
quest
you
will
die
before
I
do, and
your
families
and
friends
with
you."

"Do
you
have
anything
more
to
say,
or
are
you
just
going to
keep
repeating
this?"
the
Leader
demanded.

"I
have
told
you
what
must
happen,"
the
ox
replied.
"It
is on
your
heads
if
you
continue
to
deny
my
rightful
authority as
the
Wizard
Lord
to
slay
those
who
defy
me."

"Speaker,
free
that
poor
beast,"
the
Leader
said.

The
Speaker
nodded,
then
cleared
her
throat
and
made
a low,
sweet
sound.

The
ox
trembled,
stamped,
shook
its
head—then
lowed wordlessly.

"It's
done,"
the
Speaker
said.

"Good,"
Breaker
said,
with
a
shudder.
He
did
not
like talking
to
the
Wizard
Lord;
it
never
seemed
to
lead
anywhere,
and
the
constant
threats
and
warnings
made
him uneasy—but
most
of
all,
such
conversations
reminded
him that
he
was
trying
to
kill
someone,
that
he
was
expected
to thrust
a
steel
blade
through
that
man's
heart.

"The
Wizard
Lord"
was
an
abstraction;
killing
the
Wizard Lord
didn't
seem
so
very
dreadful
in
the
abstract.
But
when the
Wizard
Lord
acquired
a
voice,
even
a
borrowed
one,
and spoke
to
Breaker,
that
made
it
all
more
tangible,
and
uncomfortably
so.
That
voice
belonged
to
a
person,
one
with
a heart
and
mind
of
his
own—albeit
a
sick,
dark
heart
and
a twisted
mind.
Breaker
knew
the
Wizard
Lord
had
killed dozens
of
innocent
people,
but
except
for
the
one
guide
he had
known
only
briefly,
none
of
those
people
seemed
entirely
real.
They
were
dead,
though
not
entirely
gone,
and Breaker
had
never
met
them,
never
spoken
with
them,
while they
lived.
The
pale
suffering
ghosts
they
had
left
behind were
not
people,
but
merely
echoes
and
shadows.