Thrall - Christie Golden [68]
“He will die,” he said conversationally. “I know you must know that.”
“Arygos? Certainly,” she retorted.
“I do not feel like crossing the floor to torment you,” he said.
“Kalec will die, and so will you. No one can stand against both Chromatus and Deathwing. Even the world cries out in pain from his torture of it.”
“Kalec might indeed die,” Kirygosa agreed. “And so might I. But someone will stand against Deathwing and this thing his son created.”
Kiry was fiercely proud of Kalec. She did not know if he yet suspected that Arygos had betrayed them, or if he simply wanted to make sure Thrall was safe from any who might wish him harm for any reason. Surely there were enough of those in the blue dragonflight to warrant caution.
One hand went to the deceptively simple chain that kept her a prisoner. The other went to her abdomen. A wave of remembered torment and sorrow rose inside her. She permitted it to wash over and through her, breathing out quietly. She had not broken under their treatment of her yet. She would not falter now, no matter how terrifying the thought of fighting both Chromatus and his multiple heads and Deathwing himself. Not when there seemed to actually be hope again.
There was the song of wings beating in the still night air, and a greatly subdued Arygos returned. The Twilight Father regarded the dragon steadily.
“You will do as you promised,” the Twilight Father said very, very softly.
And the great blue dragon in front of him trembled.
“Tell me more about this celestial event,” Thrall said.
“Azeroth, of course, has two moons,” Kalec said. “Various cultures may have different names for them, but usually they play on a mother-and-child theme, as the white moon is much larger than the blue one.”
Thrall nodded. “My people call them the White Lady and the Blue Child,” he said.
“Exactly. The event is when the two come into perfect alignment with one another. It is often referred to as the Embrace, as it appears that the white moon, the Mother, is holding the blue Child. It’s an extremely rare occurrence—once in approximately four hundred and thirty years. I myself have never witnessed it. Would that I were doing so when all that is involved is the simple appreciation of the phenomenon.”
“So you agree with those who think this is the way to do it?” Thrall asked. “That this event is going to invoke the power of the Aspect?”
“Legend has it that the moons were in this conjunction when the titans created the first Aspects,” Kalecgos said. “If there is any time that would be favorable for our flight to bestow the title of an Aspect upon an ordinary dragon, it would be now.”
“Title? You do not think that anything particularly exciting will happen?”
Kalec sighed and ran a hand through his hair. “There is so much left unknown. We will have to have an Aspect, Thrall, and if it is best done by counting votes and calling someone an Aspect, then that will have to do.”
Thrall nodded. “It seems … like a quiet ending to a great piece of music,” he said, groping for words. “An Aspect is such a powerful being … and you, the blues, are the keepers of magic, of so much that is dazzling and imaginative. And if it is up to the flight to simply vote …” He did not finish his thought. He did not have to.
Kalec said quietly, “I do not particularly have ambitions to leadership, Thrall, but I tell you this: I fear for my flight, and for this world, if Arygos becomes the blue Aspect.”
Thrall smiled. “Not all who become leaders crave the power that goes with it,” he said. “I did not. But I did burn to help my people. To free them. To find them a home where they could belong. To protect them so that our culture could flourish.”
Kalec looked at him speculatively. “By all accounts, you have done so. Even some members of the Alliance speak well of you. It could be said that they need you now more than ever, with the world in such a state. And yet here you are, as a humble shaman.”
“I had another calling,” Thrall said. “As