The Queen of Stone_ Thorn of Breland - Keith Baker [106]
“Or, perhaps, he wasn’t a werewolf then.”
Thorn lowered the dagger and Drego smiled. It was a lovely smile … though it froze when she set the point against his heart. “I’m still listening. For someone who’s not a werewolf, you know a great deal about them.”
“Silver Flame,” he said. “It comes with the church. As for Toli, I think it would be obvious. He was taken after the welcoming feast, along with some of the other delegates. It’s a good thing you had an early night—otherwise you might be howling at the moon yourself.”
“But you said Zaeurl wasn’t behind this.”
“She’s not. She’s a werewolf—she doesn’t have a choice in the matter. She needs to obey when her master calls.”
Master. Then it came to her. He had power over those who were touched by the wild; he could drive them to madness or force them to do his bidding. “The Moonlord.”
“Yes.”
“You knew about him?”
“Yes, I did.” Drego’s voice was calm.
“And you’re here to stop him?”
“No. I’m afraid that’s where we have a little problem.”
“What are you talking about? He’s trying to spread a plague across the Five Nations! The same plague your people fought so hard to stop!”
“Exactly.” Drego seemed, if anything, pleased—as if she’d just solved the puzzle.
“What do you mean, ‘exactly’?”
“The same plague we fought so hard to stop. And did stop. Don’t you see, Nyrielle? This is exactly what the world needs. I didn’t come here to stop it from happening. I came to make sure it did happen.”
Thorn pressed the blade against his skin. “Give me one good reason to let you live.”
“The end of war.” He smiled at her surprise. “Don’t you see? This is exactly what we need. A common enemy, a threat that compels us to join forces. The first crusade against lycanthropy brought hundreds of thousands to the Church of the Silver Flame. The second will reunite Galifar, as people remember what saved them before.”
“Convenient that it’s Breland and Aundair that stand on the front line of this new threat, and Thrane that holds the seat of the Silver Flame.”
Drego shrugged. “I did say I was pursuing the interests of my people. They just happen to coincide with yours. Be reasonable, Nyri. Tens of thousands died in the Silver Crusade. Perhaps more will be lost this time. But how many died in the Mourning? This is a chance to force reunification without war. The people will demand it.”
He could be right. Steel was in her hand and his voice was in her head. The most zealous followers of the Silver Flame are Aundairians, as a direct result of the crusade. The battle against the shapechangers is one of the fundamental things people know about the church. If there’s a new plague of lycanthropy, people may turn to the Flame.
“You don’t know that,” Thorn said. “People might band together to face the common threat. Or they might turn on each other. And the Church may not be strong enough to face this challenge again. You’re gambling with the fate of the world.”
“I like the odds. And we shatter Droaam in the process. The Moonlord is no friend to the Daughters of Sora Kell. He’ll tear their forces away and turn these beasts against each other. Come on, Nyrielle. Don’t you want to change the world?” He smiled, and a part of her wanted to work with him, wanted to turn her back on everything she’d done before. But that was a tiny spark that flickered and died.
She thought about Beren’s tales of fighting on the Droaamish front. She remembered Sheshka’s tales about the dark times of her youth—the infection that turned its victims against their loved ones. And she imagined the trollbear smashing through a Brelish village, how many common soldiers—men like her father—would fall fighting such a beast.
“Not like this,” she said.
One moment, her knife was against his chest. The next, he was six paces away from her. Magic was at work, and his spell was still active. He was standing right in front of her, but he was flickering, wavering. With her enhanced senses, she could feel him slipping in and out of existence.