I set out after them as soon as I
finished the book. Fortunately, Iason and Iola couldn’t glide through the
countryside effortlessly leaving no trail, and they weren’t bothering to cover
their tracks.
As I searched, I continued puzzling
over what Brea could possibly want from me. She’d had me under her control twice
already, incredibly easily. She could have made me do whatever she wanted–but
she didn’t. Which had to mean that for some reason she couldn’t. So she
could manipulate, bargain, even blackmail me with Iason and Iola’s lives… but
she couldn’t outright compel me. Whatever it was she wanted me to do, I
had to choose to do it. But she’d offered to make me a sex-slave if I agreed to
serve her, which meant that one choice was enough–choosing to serve her was as
good as choosing to do the thing.
One choice. I remembered something about that, from a lecture long ago
at the Academy. A lecture about… Chosen Ones, yes, that was it. People chosen
from birth–sometimes before–by a god for some destined task. Guided every
step of the way–gifted a magic sword here, “chance” meeting with a
wise mentor there–toward whatever it was the god had in mind for them, most
never realizing that their every choice had been decided for them from the
moment they were Chosen.
I laughed at the idea that that
could be me. What god would pick me to do their work? Besides, it was the
opposite of what was happening here. Brea wanted me to make a choice,
the one thing Chosen Ones never got to do. Besides, she was practically wild
magic incarnate, and making a Chosen One was some of the highest of high magic,
imposing order onto the entire course of a person’s life. That’s why only gods
did it–nobody else could! (Well… Maybe a high-level demon, but that’s
really just a god going the other way, so.)
Maybe focus instead on what she wanted
me to do. She’d hinted the condition of my body wasn’t that important, and
she’d killed Hragulf right when he was about to take away my ability to do
magic. Did she need me to cast a spell? That would make sense–high magic is
about the one thing that would be completely impossible for her to do on her
own. But what spell?
…Fuck. Just like that, everything clicked into place. I knew what
spell she wanted from me. I knew why she needed me to make a choice. I knew how
badly I’d fucked up.
A few minutes later, I walked into a
clearing to find Brea waiting for me at the far end, flanked by Iola and Iason.
“I noticed you were following us,” she said. “Come to
surrender?”
“I figured out why you’re doing
this,” I answered. “I’m a Choosing One, aren’t I?”
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