The Demigod Proving Read Online Free PDF Page B

foot out at Teirn’s ankles.
    Teirn didn’t lose his grip on the knife, but he lost his balance and fell backward onto the white stone next to Wrend. The force of Wester’s push actually made him slide half a dozen feet with the dry rasp of clothes on stone.
    Wrend had gained his feet and so dove at Wester, trying to tackle him. But once again, Wester stepped aside with inhuman speed. He shoved with both palms held forward. With a thump, they struck Wrend’s chest, and he found himself on has backside, next to Teirn, breathing hard.
    In the struggle, they’d reversed positions, so that Teirn and Wrend were near the altar, and Wester stood near the first row of benches. He stared down at them with narrow eyes.
    “Well, well, Teirn. You have secrets, don’t you?”
    Teirn ignored the comment and leapt to his feet. Wrend joined him, but neither of them advanced. Wrend felt naked without his dagger, but it lay on the white stone close to Wester. Wrend’s chest and wrist hurt where Wester had struck him.
    “Your spirit is commendable,” Wester said. “But useless—and ultimately fruitless.”
    From the direction of the courtyard came a massive boom. Wester glanced in the direction of the sound and stepped back. He raised his hands.
    “I don’t want to hurt you,” he said.
    “Your mere presence injures my sensibilities,” Wrend said.
    “I could kill you now if I wanted,” Wester said. “So don’t tempt me.”
    It was the kind of thing the Master might say if he minced words, and Wrend believed it. The brief struggle hadn’t even left Wester winded. Even after Teirn had proven more formidable, Wester bested them with ease.
    But what had Wester meant that Teirn had secrets?
    “Better to die than become an unfruitful branch,” Teirn said.
    “Ah, yes, the Parable. You only say that because you have limited information. Believe me, there are two sides to every story—even the Master’s.”
    “How can you even pretend that?” Teirn said. “Our country lives in peace and harmony. Before the Master, there was only chaos and destruction. He brought tranquility to the land.”
    Wrend nearly agreed, but somehow faltered.
    Was what Teirn said true? Of course, Wrend had been taught that it was, but he’d only ever heard the one side of the story—the side that the priests and the Master had told. Was there another side? Surely there was. One of the priests, Naresh, had taught Wrend that every issue had two sides, but Wrend had never thought to look at the other side of this particular topic.
    Was it blasphemy to do so?
    “Tranquility?” Wester said. “Eventually the Master kills all of his children—every one of us. You believe that is tranquility?”
    “He only kills us when we’re disobedient,” Teirn said.
    “No, the Master is ruthless. You’ll die at his hand sooner or later—whether by disobedience or in the Strengthening. And how many hundreds or thousands of people does he kill each year because of their disobedience? Not just demigods—but average people who have slipped and made a mistake, or who’ve said one wrong word against the smothering thumb of the priests. Or maybe all they did was neglect their ceremonies. The people are slaves to him.”
    The sound of crashing through trees came from the direction of the courtyard and a deep voice sounded indistinctly through the forest, into the Chapel. A vague movement flitted among the distant tree trunks.
    “What do you want with us?” Wrend said.
    “You’re special,” Wester said. He took a step forward. “You both are. The Master trusts and loves you. You’re close to him.”
    The voice from the forest became clearer, and the snapping of trees and branches came closer.
    “Wrend! Teirn!”
    The Master. Wrend could distinguish his massive shape among the trees, growing closer.
    “I can’t explain,” Wester said. He edged toward the steps between the benches. “I don’t have time. But remember my words: you say the Master brings