Thrall - Christie Golden [88]
At the same moment, she realized that this was a chance that had never before come her way. Stifling the gorge that rose in her throat, forcing herself not to tremble with fury and horror, she frowned as if thinking.
“If we did produce offspring,” she said, “I would have value.”
“Dat you would,” Zuuzuu said. “With your bloodline, you jest might be da only one who can give Chromatus the kind of babies he wants.”
Kiry forced herself not to cringe at the thought of other females of all flights being subjected to Chromatus’s desire. Instead, she nodded. “I could be queen.”
“For a time, maybe,” said Josah. He had moved ahead of Kiry and Zuuzuu a little as they walked. “But the end of all things will come. Even for you.”
Zuuzuu was holding the silver chain, but Kirygosa had noticed that as she spoke, the troll had loosened her grip. She made note of their weapons: two daggers in sheaths at their hips. They were approaching a circular stairway, which would take them to the ground level. And Chromatus. Josah had already started to descend, and they would soon need to go single file.
Now.
With her right hand, Kiry yanked the chain out of the troll’s careless grasp. Her left arm came up to wrap around Zuuzuu’s neck. Zuuzuu’s fingers flew up to pry the choking arm off, scratching long furrows in Kiry’s arm. The dragon ignored the pain, squeezing tightly and quickly, until the troll’s eyes rolled back in her head and her body went limp. Kiry lowered the body to the floor and seized Zuuzuu’s dagger in the same quick motion.
She had been silent. Josah had noticed nothing and was still carrying on his now one-sided conversation. “I hope I live long enough to see it,” he was saying, almost wistfully. “The end, you know. Though it is our fate to die as the Twilight Father commands. Perhaps he would be pleased if—”
His words ended in a confused gurgle as Kirygosa plunged Zuuzuu’s blade into his throat. She covered his mouth so that the ugly sounds would not carry, then lowered him to the floor as she had done with Zuuzuu.
Her hands came away covered with blood. Her heart was racing and her breath came swiftly. She wiped them and the dagger on Josah’s robes as best she could, her ears straining for any sign that she had been discovered. All was still.
One hand closed briefly on the chain. It still held her prisoner in this weaker human form, but at least no enemy was clutching the other end.
There was no place to drag the bodies and hide them; the temple was open and airy, with very few nooks or compartmentalized places. Very soon, when she did not show up as she was supposed to, they would come looking for her and find the bodies on the ramp.
But with any luck, Kirygosa would be long gone by then.
She moved quickly but quietly, booted feet making only the barest whisper as she raced down the ramp. Fortunately, it was after sunset; she could at least hope to move in the shadows.
Even after dark, though, the Twilight Father kept his minions busy. There were torches stuck in the snow, their orange-red glow chasing away the purple-blue shadows. Kirygosa reached the bottom level and flattened herself against one of the archway walls, looking about.
If only she could simply change into her true shape and fly away! But they had seen to it that she could not. She fingered the chain on her neck that kept her locked in this form. She would need some kind of mount. They used all kinds here, but mostly as pack animals—just like those that, until recently, had drawn the wagon that had borne the inanimate body of the nightmare who now lay drowsing not too far from where Kirygosa hid in the shadows.
But there were some that were personal mounts. A few of the higher-ranking members of the cult owned them. They had not been forced to slog across Northrend on foot, as most of the others had during the brutal trek to the temple. Over there, several of them were tethered a fair distance from the light provided by the torches.