Thrall - Christie Golden [66]
The spires of Wyrmrest Temple appeared ghostly in the moonslight. They were damaged, but they were not uninhabited. Shapes like shadows, black and purple and indigo, wheeled about slowly while others slept in various nooks of the temple. Two lounged about, sprawled like giant winged lizards, right on the mosaic floor of the highest level.
He was spotted.
Several of the twilight dragons assigned to guard the temple veered from their regular circuits, heading right for Arygos, and a voice seemed to come from everywhere and nowhere.
“Arygos, son of Malygos,” came a familiar voice—the same voice that had taunted Alexstrasza and the rest of the dragons on that fateful day not so long ago.
“It is I,” Arygos cried in response. He landed on the topmost level.
And bowed humbly before the Twilight Father.
FOURTEEN
Kirygosa had been asleep, curled up tightly, her dreams erratic and alarming. When she heard her brother’s voice, for a moment she thought she was in the grip of another nightmare. This time, and not for the first time, she discovered that reality was worse than her dreams.
She propped herself up as far as the chain tied to her neck and driven into the floor would permit, lifted her head, and stared as her brother Arygos made obeisance to the bastard who had attacked them all. Her fists clenched.
He lifted his head and his gaze fell upon her. “Kirygosa,” he said. “How pleasant … and surprising … to find you still alive.”
“If I could take my true form, I would rake your eyes out,” she snarled.
“Now, now,” interrupted the Twilight Father, amusement in his voice, “I do so hate to see bickering between siblings.”
Kiry gritted her teeth. It had been Arygos who had betrayed her into the hands of this … this …
How could she have been so naive? She had known her brother all their lives. She knew he had idolized their father. And yet, when he had come to her privately one night, telling her of his change of heart and asking for her aid, she had willingly given it.
“Come with me,” he had said. “You and I … surely we can form some sort of plan. I love Father, Kiry. Whatever he’s done. We can find a way to end this war without killing him.”
So many had died by that point already, including their mother, Saragosa, who had chosen to side with Malygos. Her death had hurt all of them, but Kiry had been adamant that Malygos needed to be stopped.
“Do you really think so?” Kiry had asked. She had so wanted to believe her brother.
“I do. I see now that you were right. Let’s go and see what we can come up with. Maybe if we have a sound enough plan, the Life-Binder will listen to us.”
So she had gone, willingly and trustingly with hope and love in her heart, with the future in her body. And he had delivered her and her unborn children, like prized beasts, to the Twilight Father.
Words boiled in her throat, crowding each other out so that she couldn’t even speak. What sort of power did he grant you? What sort of lies did he promise? Did you know what he would do to me? Did you have a moment’s hesitation?
But she would not give him the satisfaction, and so swallowed her bitter words.
Having addressed her and assured himself that the Twilight Father was still happy with his prisoner, Arygos turned his attention fully upon his master.
“How go the discussions?” the Twilight Father inquired. “The sooner you can determine what is required, the better for us all.”
“It is … awkward,” confessed Arygos. “We are, none of us, certain of how to proceed. This has never been done before.”
He sounded unsure of himself—something Kirygosa had never heard in his voice before. He wants reassurance, she realized. He wants to know he has done well, that he has pleased this monster. The thought made her sick, but she kept her silence. What she learned could be valuable to Kalecgos—if she could ever figure out how to free herself.
“You assured me that you would find a way—and that the flight would select you as the new Aspect,” the Twilight Father reminded him.