Horsemen's War (The Rebellion Chronicles #3) - Steve McHugh Page 0,106
I asked the remaining few dozen Horsemen, who all had pieces of their brethren on them.
The building beside us was torn apart, the stone thrown at us with such incredible force that I only just managed to create a shield of lightning to stop it. A shield of air wouldn’t have been enough, and even the lightning shield faltered. I was thrown back several feet, landed on my knees, and rolled back to my feet.
“You mock me,” Merlin said as he hovered out of the building. “You dare mock me.”
I spotted Mordred a few feet away from me, his ice shield almost completely destroyed.
Merlin continued to hover toward us until he stopped by the remaining Horsemen. “Go; do what you need to do.”
The Horsemen ran off into the city without pause, leaving an exceptionally pissed-off Merlin to face Mordred and me.
Merlin didn’t pause and started throwing huge chunks of rock at Mordred, who managed to dodge most of them. Two of the head-size rocks hit his shield, the first one obliterating it and the second catching him in the chest, which, judging from the sound, broke his ribs and/or sternum. He went down hard, and Merlin threw another rock at his kneeling son, but I blasted it away with air magic and walked over to Mordred, keeping my eyes on his father.
“It’s so touching that you came to his aid,” Merlin said, rocks spinning around his hand like moons around a planet.
“He’s your son,” I snapped.
“So?” Merlin asked. “He never had the guts to do what needs to be done here. He was never going to be the one to stand up against everything that needed to be stopped. He didn’t have the backbone to do it.”
“You loved him,” I said.
“I did,” Merlin said. “That was my mistake. One of many.”
“Another being that you aided a genocidal maniac?” I kept Mordred behind me and walked steadily toward Merlin, hoping that the time spent keeping him talking would let Mordred heal up.
“One man’s genocidal maniac is another man’s hero . . .” Merlin threw a tendril of air at me, but I sank into my shadow realm and came out behind him, a blade of lightning in my hand.
Without Merlin even turning around, spikes of rock broke out from the ground, and I had to throw myself aside to keep from being impaled.
“Why are you holding back?” Merlin asked me. “You can’t hope to kill me like this. Is it because you care what Mordred thinks of you? Is it because you hope I’ll see the devastation wrought by Arthur’s desires and suddenly change my mind? This is not a fairy tale, Nathaniel. This is not one of those ridiculous films about good versus evil. You make decisions and deal with the consequences. I made my decisions, and I made my peace with what had to happen because of them. I am not going to suddenly believe that you’re right. I am not going to suddenly think that Arthur should be killed.
“You think of me as a villain, but you’re shortsighted. I am not a villain; I am a visionary. I know what needs to be done to keep the Earth realm and all those connected to it safe. I know the power it requires. If only you’d seen that instead of thinking in such black-and-white terms. If only you’d considered that maybe you were wrong here. That Arthur as king is what’s best for everyone. No war. No need for anyone to die of famine, disease; no need for pain and suffering. We would have made it a paradise.”
“And all it takes is the murder of everyone who wants free will,” I said.
“It’s a small price to pay,” Merlin told me. “An infinitesimal price. Millions die so billions can live in peace.”
“That’s not peace,” I said fiercely. “That’s slavery! I saw in America when you sent me there, all those years ago, how damaging that was.”
Merlin laughed. “I honestly thought that when you went to America after your wife’s death and started butchering people who deserved it, you’d finally realized what needed to be done. I sent you away to remove that moral code you were so goddamn fond of, and instead you met people who just helped you make it stronger.”
The realization that Merlin had been against me and everything I thought he’d stood for was like a punch to the gut.