Read Online Witchbreaker (Dragon Apocalypse) by James Maxey - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: James Maxey
Tags: Fantasy
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one.”
Brand chuckled and said, “Wow.”
“What’s funny?”
“I just haven’t met many people, male or female, ballsy enough to take on gods.”
Sorrow kept quiet as she finished stitching the last wound on the warrior. She was determined not to respond to Brand’s choice of words, but in the end, she couldn’t hold her tongue. “I’m decidedly not ‘ballsy.’ Courage isn’t dependent on male anatomy.”
“All I’m saying is that you’re bold. I meant it as a compliment.”
“Yet you managed to turn it into a slight against the entire female sex.”
“In addition to being bold, you’re also more than a little brittle,” Brand said with a frown.
“I’m paying you to dig graves, not judge me.”
“That I’ll do for free,” he said, grinning. “Ever since I learned the art of reading people’s hidden natures, I’ve been unable to turn it off.”
“Nothing about my nature is hidden,” said Sorrow. “I pride myself on being open in my goals and motives.”
Brand laughed.
Sorrow scowled at him.
“You honestly believe that?” Brand asked.
“You’ve no reason to doubt my word.”
“Maybe you should try a little doubt. I would say there’s a very good chance you’ve been deceiving yourself.”
“By what right do you think that you know me better than I do?”
“Let’s put it to a test. I’ll ask you three questions. You answer me as honestly as you can, and I’ll tell you what you truly mean.”
“I won’t engage in such an absurd exercise,” she said, with a dismissive wave.
“You just said you were proud to be open. I think we’ve exposed the first false notion you have about yourself.”
She fixed her eyes upon him with a fierce glare. She didn’t like having her own words thrown back in her face. Worse, he was smirking. He regarded this conversation as an amusing way to pass the time, while she found it to be an unwelcome intrusion. She owed him no answers.
On the other hand, what did she have to hide? She felt certain she could wipe that smug expression from his face.
“Fine,” she said, crossing her arms. “You may ask what you wish.”
“Okay,” he said. “But don’t make it so easy.”
“I assure you, it will be easy to disprove your delusions.”
“Not with such transparent body language,” said Brand. “Crossing your arms like that is like trying to build a little wall between the two of us. You’re entering into this as a hostile witness, rather than an open-minded seeker of truth.”
“Just ask your first question.”
“Why did you tell us your mother died in childbirth?”
“It’s factual,” she said. “It explained why I didn’t feel like answering Bigsby’s insane babbling.”
“But if you’ve studied healing well enough to stitch this man back together, I’m guessing you probably know how to treat a fever.”
“Yes,” she said. “But he was bleeding to death. The fact he was hot was the least of his problems.”
“You could have said that. Instead, you played the dead mother card.”
She frowned. “This wasn’t a poker hand. My mother’s death is not a card.”
“That’s no doubt true, but you brought it up at a very odd time for no other reason than to shock us.”
She shrugged. “It brought that ridiculous discussion to a halt.”
“True. But it also revealed to me your mother’s death has left you feeling entitled.”
“Entitled?” she scoffed.
“Perhaps your father overcompensated for your mother’s death. Doted on you a bit more than he should have. You could probably play upon his sense of guilt to get your way by invoking your dead mother. As an adult, in times of tension, you still resort to pleading that your loss in childhood should give you special privileges.”
Sorrow shook her head and laughed ruefully. “That’s your analysis? It’s so pathetically wrong I don’t know where to begin. No one who knows my father thinks of him as doting. Our family name is Stern. He’s the
Brand chuckled and said, “Wow.”
“What’s funny?”
“I just haven’t met many people, male or female, ballsy enough to take on gods.”
Sorrow kept quiet as she finished stitching the last wound on the warrior. She was determined not to respond to Brand’s choice of words, but in the end, she couldn’t hold her tongue. “I’m decidedly not ‘ballsy.’ Courage isn’t dependent on male anatomy.”
“All I’m saying is that you’re bold. I meant it as a compliment.”
“Yet you managed to turn it into a slight against the entire female sex.”
“In addition to being bold, you’re also more than a little brittle,” Brand said with a frown.
“I’m paying you to dig graves, not judge me.”
“That I’ll do for free,” he said, grinning. “Ever since I learned the art of reading people’s hidden natures, I’ve been unable to turn it off.”
“Nothing about my nature is hidden,” said Sorrow. “I pride myself on being open in my goals and motives.”
Brand laughed.
Sorrow scowled at him.
“You honestly believe that?” Brand asked.
“You’ve no reason to doubt my word.”
“Maybe you should try a little doubt. I would say there’s a very good chance you’ve been deceiving yourself.”
“By what right do you think that you know me better than I do?”
“Let’s put it to a test. I’ll ask you three questions. You answer me as honestly as you can, and I’ll tell you what you truly mean.”
“I won’t engage in such an absurd exercise,” she said, with a dismissive wave.
“You just said you were proud to be open. I think we’ve exposed the first false notion you have about yourself.”
She fixed her eyes upon him with a fierce glare. She didn’t like having her own words thrown back in her face. Worse, he was smirking. He regarded this conversation as an amusing way to pass the time, while she found it to be an unwelcome intrusion. She owed him no answers.
On the other hand, what did she have to hide? She felt certain she could wipe that smug expression from his face.
“Fine,” she said, crossing her arms. “You may ask what you wish.”
“Okay,” he said. “But don’t make it so easy.”
“I assure you, it will be easy to disprove your delusions.”
“Not with such transparent body language,” said Brand. “Crossing your arms like that is like trying to build a little wall between the two of us. You’re entering into this as a hostile witness, rather than an open-minded seeker of truth.”
“Just ask your first question.”
“Why did you tell us your mother died in childbirth?”
“It’s factual,” she said. “It explained why I didn’t feel like answering Bigsby’s insane babbling.”
“But if you’ve studied healing well enough to stitch this man back together, I’m guessing you probably know how to treat a fever.”
“Yes,” she said. “But he was bleeding to death. The fact he was hot was the least of his problems.”
“You could have said that. Instead, you played the dead mother card.”
She frowned. “This wasn’t a poker hand. My mother’s death is not a card.”
“That’s no doubt true, but you brought it up at a very odd time for no other reason than to shock us.”
She shrugged. “It brought that ridiculous discussion to a halt.”
“True. But it also revealed to me your mother’s death has left you feeling entitled.”
“Entitled?” she scoffed.
“Perhaps your father overcompensated for your mother’s death. Doted on you a bit more than he should have. You could probably play upon his sense of guilt to get your way by invoking your dead mother. As an adult, in times of tension, you still resort to pleading that your loss in childhood should give you special privileges.”
Sorrow shook her head and laughed ruefully. “That’s your analysis? It’s so pathetically wrong I don’t know where to begin. No one who knows my father thinks of him as doting. Our family name is Stern. He’s the