Thrall - Christie Golden [112]
Many—too many—had fallen with each attack, and the solemn task of gathering and disposing of the bodies would commence once the sun raised its head over the horizon. For now, though, all that could be done had been.
They had not found the Twilight Father among the slain cultists—although Thrall had pointed out that there were quite a lot of charred bodies, some of them clearly human and male. Kirygosa had shaken her blue-black head. “No,” she said. “I would know him. I would know him anywhere.”
Kalecgos had regarded her with a worried expression. Only time would tell if Kirygosa would heal from her months of torment. But she had returned to her flight, and was held dear in the heart of the Life-Binder. Thrall suspected she would be all right.
The only twilight dragons they had found were corpses. The rest had fled, leaderless and afraid. And Chromatus—
Concerned that some other dark power might try to revive Chromatus, the dragons had attempted to destroy the corpse.
They had failed. Some powerful spell, probably woven into the dark marriage of magic and technology that had animated him in the first place, protected the body from all their efforts to obliterate it.
“Then he must be guarded until such time as we can find a way to completely destroy him,” Alexstrasza had decided. “Representatives from our flights will stand watch over him. He is not dead … but if he lies without the spark of animation, he will harm no one again.”
“During the Nexus War, Malygos created arcane prisons,” Kalecgos had said. “We know how well they worked. We can construct one large enough—and strong enough—to hold him.”
Now five figures stood, four dragons and one orc, gazing to the east. “We will go our separate ways shortly,” Nozdormu said quietly. “But we will never be truly apart. Never again.” He lifted his head to regard them. “Thrall … I told you something of what I had learned.” Thrall nodded, and listened as Nozdormu shared with the other Aspects the dire news he had imparted to Thrall earlier.
“Thrall found me becaussse I was attempting to find the answer to sssomething. You all know that I was given the knowledge of the hour and manner of my own death. While I would never sssubvert what I know to be true and right—in my travels, in one timeway—I became leader of the infinite dragonflight.”
They stared at him, horrified. For a long moment no one could even summon the ability to speak. Then Alexstrasza said very gently, “You said one timeway. Is it the true one, my old friend?”
“I do not know,” he said. “I was searching to discover that very thing. To—to find some way to avoid becoming something so antithetical to all that I stand for. And it was while on that quest that I learned what I asked Thrall to share with you: that all of the suffering we have had to deal with—the madness of Malygos and Deathwing, the Emerald Dream turned to a nightmare, the Twilight Cult … everything—it is all intertwined. This much I shared with Thrall. And the reason I was late in coming to your aid was that I was following another thread of information. I have discovered who is behind this vast and dreadful conspiracy.”
His eyes gleamed, brilliant with righteous anger in the coming dawn. “It … I can barely ssspeak of it, even now. It is”—his mighty voice dropped to a low whisper—“the Old Gods!”
The three other mighty Dragon Aspects stared at him, their own eyes wide with shock and worry. At their expressions, Thrall’s own heart sped up with dread. He knew something of these figures, ancient and evil; two of them lurked in Ulduar and Ahn’Qiraj. “I have heard of these beings,” Thrall said, “but you clearly know more.”
For a moment no one spoke, as if to speak of them might cause them to appear. Then: “You have heard old tales, Thrall,” said