Watt-Evans, Lawrence - Annals of the Chosen 01 (83 page)

"Which
way?"
Breaker
whispered.

"Well,
he'll
expect
us
to
go
up,"
the
Leader
said,
"since we
saw
him
up
on
the
roof—and
I'll
wager
that
he's
actually
run
down
into
the
dungeons
while
we
were
climbing
the
hill, and
is
lurking
downstairs,
ready
to
cut
us
off
once
we
ascend."

"Then
we
go
down?"
the
Archer
asked.

"We
go
down,"
the
Leader
agreed.

"Or
we
get
the
Seer,"
Breaker
suggested.
"She
doesn't need
to
come
inside—we
could
work
out
a
few
signals
easily enough."

"We
can't
take
the
time,"
the
Leader
replied.
"Besides,
remember
how
badly
she
lost
her
nerve—she
refused
to
come in
here
even
before
the
Speaker
was
shot,
and
I
doubt
she'll
be
willing
to
come
any
closer
than
she
is
now.
No,
we'll
have to
rely
on
instinct,
and
my
instinct
says
that
he's
down
in
the cellars,
waiting
to
trap
us
above
him
when
we
climb
the tower."

Breaker
was
not
entirely
satisfied
with
this,
but
they
did
need
to
go
somewhere,
and
the
Archer
was
already
at
the
stair,
starting
down
the
spiral.

"I
see
a
light!"
he
said.
"Off
that
way."
He
pointed
down
at
an
angle.

"A
light?"

"A
lamp,
I
think,
or
a
candle."

'That
must
be
him,
then!
Hurry!"
the
Leader
said.
"You,
too,
Sword!
A
bow
isn't
the
best
weapon
in
a
confined
space
like
this."

Before
Breaker
could
respond
the
Archer
was
galloping
down
the
stairs,
pulling
an
arrow
from
his
quiver;
after
a moment's
hesitation,
Breaker
followed,
blade
ready.

At
the
bottom
of
the
stair
he
paused.
He
was
in
a
large room,
some
fifteen
feet
below
entry
level,
with
half
a
dozen passages
opening
off
it
in
various
directions;
the
light
was
too
dim
to
make
out
any
details.
The
Archer
was
nowhere
to be
seen—but
his
footsteps
were
plainly
audible,
and
Breaker
glimpsed
a
faint
flicker
of
light
down
one
passage.
Reluctantly,
he
moved
toward
it,
sword
raised.

This
wasn't
right,
he
thought.
Rushing
headlong
down
here—this
could
easily
be
the
trap
they
had
been
worried
about.
This
was
not
right.
The
Leader
shouldn't
have
allowed
this.
He
shouldn't
be
here.

But
he
couldn't
let
the
Archer
run
off
by
himself.

"Bow?"
he
called.

"Over
here,
Sword!"
came
the
reply.
"It's
someone
with
a
candle,
someone
in
a
robe—this
way!"

Cautiously,
Breaker
advanced
into
the
corridor,
past
the
first
pair
of
doors—and
then
a
woman's
voice
shouted
from
somewhere
behind
him,
"Now!"

Breaker
whirled
instantly,
his
every
instinct
screaming "Trap!"
A
pair
of
heavy
doors
was
swinging
shut
behind him;
reacting
without
conscious
thought,
he
thrust
the
blade of
his
sword
between
them,
preventing
them
from
closing completely.
The
doors
had
been
shaped
to
overlap,
and
the sword
prevented
that;
a
tiny
crack
remained,
his
blade trapped
in
it.