Dragons Reborn Read Free Page A

deepening of the grooves alongside her mouth, a
slight tightening of the lips, a kindling of fire in her eyes.
    "Do not think,"
the High Priestess said softly, "that I would hesitate to slay you. But
you would not die easily, boy. You would die screaming. In agony. Have you ever
seen my men execute a prisoner? They will slice you open and pull out your
entrails, but not before they cut off your manhood and burn it before you.
Emasculated and disemboweled, they will hang you upon the city walls, leaving
you to slowly die. It can take hours. Days. If you defy me, that will be your
fate, my beloved son."
    A chill washed Cade.
Only a moment ago, she had stroked his hair, spoken to him as a mother. Now she
threatened mutilation and death?
    "You're mad,"
he whispered.
    Mercy stepped forth,
grabbed Cade's arm, and twisted it behind his back. She drove her foot into the
back of his knee, forcing him to kneel.
    "I'll force-feed
him the tillvine!" Mercy cried. "I'll stuff it into his impudent
mouth!"
    "No." Beatrix
shook her head. "He's not a babe. He has known the magic all his life. He
must relinquish it willingly. He must choose to devote himself to the Spirit,
to the coming Falling." She knelt before Cade, held his head in her hands,
and stared at him. "My son, my precious son . . . I will have you become a
great paladin like Mercy, devoted to our cause. This is a fate you must choose
for yourself, to abandon the disease inside you, to surrender your will to the
Spirit."
    "Or die in agony,"
Cade said, voice dry. "What kind of choice is that?"
    "Still a choice.
More than what Mercy offers you." Beatrix kissed his forehead. "I
will return you to your cell now, where I want you to linger in darkness, in
thought. I want you to think about the pain refusing me will bring you. I want
you to think about the glory of the Spirit, the only one who can save you from
that pain. You have until noon tomorrow to make your decision, son—to lose
your magic . . . or to lose your life."
    Mercy grabbed his arms,
yanked him to his feet, and manhandled him toward the door. They left the Holy
of Holies.
    Cade's chains
dragged and his blood dripped across the jeweled marble floors of the Cured
Temple. They walked through halls of splendor—the floors a mosaic of precious
metals, the columns gilded, the walls painted with pastel murals, and the
ceiling a masterwork of jewels that glittered like stars. Mercy dragged him
through these riches, then down into the craggy, dark dungeons, down into the
chasm where men screamed in cells, tortured, broken.
    "You'll soon
break too," Mercy whispered into his ear, teeth clenched. "Look at
them, Cade. This will be your fate."
    She dragged him
along a hallway lined with cells. Inside each cell, Cade saw the prisoners of
the Cured Temple. In one cell, a man hung from chains, flayed alive, bleeding
and weeping and begging for death. In another cell, a woman prayed feverishly
as rats fed upon her, eating her alive. In a third cell, children hung from the
wall, whipped and beaten, slowly dying. Aboveground, the Cured Temple displayed
its glory; here under the surface beat its rotted heart.
    "Don't think
for a second that I believe this story," Mercy said, shoving him forward. "You,
my brother?" She snorted. "No more than a rat could be my brother.
Soon your flesh will be feeding rats."
    They passed by
another cell, and Cade's heart seemed to freeze. His eyes dampened.
    There she was.
    Oh stars.
    The prisoner knelt
inside, chained. Her red hair hid her face, and bruises covered her body. Her
green eyes stared at him, shining with tears.
    "Domi!"
he cried.
    He tried to break
free from Mercy. He tried to dash toward her cell, to speak to her, to reach
inside and touch her hand, comfort her.
    "Cade," Domi
whispered.
    "Move!"
Mercy cried and drove her fist into Cade's kidney. He cried out in pain,
stumbling forward. Mercy grabbed a fistful of his hair, dragged him the last
few feet forward, and tossed him into his own