Thrall - Christie Golden [99]
“What he did to you—”
“It is done, and over,” she said, and Thrall realized that she was trying to reassure Kalecgos, even after all she had endured. She was unspeakably brave.
“So two blows were dealt to their plans. But they still had Chromatus.” Her voice broke, and she struggled visibly to regain her composure.
“I don’t know where they found him. The cultists brought him all the way to Northrend, knowing that they needed vast stores of arcane energy to give him the spark of life. And for that, they needed a surge needle created from the blood of a child of Malygos.”
“Then—forgive me,” said Thrall, “but … why did they not use your blood for that purpose sooner?”
“I believe they wanted to wait until Arygos brought them the blues,” she said. “Think of what a sight that would have made: Chromatus would have first been beheld by his enemies at full strength, at the forefront of a vast dragon army. I do not think the Twilight Father originally intended to kill Arygos. But when my brother failed, the Twilight Father made sure he still had a use. He made sure I did, too. I escaped before they tried to—to breed me to that thing.”
Thrall was appalled. The two female Aspects looked ill, and Thrall realized that if the Twilight Father were to suddenly appear right now, Kalec would likely cheerfully have ripped him apart. And Thrall would have joined in.
“It could have worked, too,” Kiry continued. “I could have been the mother of an entire new flight of abominations. Chromatus was the final experiment of Nefarian—who, as I have learned, also lives. After a fashion. He has been reanimated, but not brought to life as Chromatus has been.”
“Nefarian is an undead atrocity, then.” While Kirygosa had spoken, other dragons had drawn close to listen, and now a large red moved his massive frame to stand protectively over Alexstrasza and Kirygosa—both with hearts and spirits terribly wounded, and yet both so strong. The red continued: “Is he here as well?”
Kiry shook her head. “No, I think Deathwing has other plans for him. Chromatus will be enough. Kalec—you surprised him last time. He was but newly born. And even so …” Her voice trailed off.
“Even so, my entire flight was defeated,” Kalec finished for her.
“You do not stand alone now, Kalecgos,” Alexstrasza reassured him. “Three full flights stand together. He may have been able to defeat one flight, but three? Long has it been since we fought so, and I do not think, monstrous as he is, one single dragon can stand against all of us!”
Kirygosa seemed agitated at the words and grasped Alexstrasza’s hand. “Life-Binder,” she said, “He—he was made … for you.” She looked at Kalec and Ysera as well. “All of you. He is more than just an exceptionally powerful chromatic dragon. He was brought to life with a specific purpose: to destroy the Aspects!”
Thrall opened his mouth in an automatic denial, then closed it. He had seen Chromatus. He saw what the monster could do. At full health, with the abilities of each flight his own—
“So it is true,” said Ysera, looking stricken. “My vision is true.”
Alexstrasza reached out her other hand to Ysera. “Speak, Sister,” she implored.
“I had hoped … I was wrong. …” Ysera closed her eyes and spoke in a dreamy, singsong voice. It was not a spell, not in the truest sense of the word, but the scene she described had an enchantment all its own. Thrall could almost see what she spoke of in his own mind: the death of all things, save the twilight dragonflight. No plants, no beasts, no beings, no living thing at all drew breath save them. And each of the Aspects lay dead and stiffening.
Even the darkest, cruelest one of all. The one who had helped make the monster that brought it about.
Deathwing.
Thrall trembled and felt cold sweat trickling over his skin. Panic threatened to seize his throat. Others around him lifted their voices in fear, in anger, in grim acceptance, but one voice rang out clearly.
“It is not our doom!”
The voice belonged to the Life-Binder.