He smiled at her. 'So what is this, Nyrielle?'
'The warlord Zaeurl is about to unleash chaos on the Five Nations. Zaeurl was the traitor all along.'
Drego laughed. 'That's ridiculous.'
'I know it seems that way, but it's the truth. She's a werewolf, Drego-'
He placed his hand over hers, gently brushing his fingers across her skin. 'I know.'
Then she saw it all. Toli. The Aundairian. Steel flashed into her hand, and she let the point dig in just below his chin. 'You're one of them.'
He smiled and slowly raised his chin, just enough so he could open his mouth. 'You're wrong. And you should know.'
'And how's that?'
'You have a stone at the base of your spine, a crystal shard.'
Thorn let the dagger touch his throat again. 'How do you know that?'
He ignored the threat and the question. 'When we were in the woods that night and the wolves approached-did you feel something in the stone? A chill, perhaps?'
She said nothing.
'And when you saw Zaeurl at the Great Crag?'
'I felt that same chill all day yesterday,' she said.
'Yes… when you were with your comrade Toli, I suspect. But do you feel it now?'
He was right. Thinking about it, she'd only felt that chill in the presence of Toli, and later at the Ossuary. Now, the stone was calm. 'If the pain means something-if it reveals werewolves-I think I'd have noticed during the week I spent in the wagon with Toli.'
'Or, perhaps, he wasn't a werewolf then.'
Thorn lowered the dagger and Drego smiled. It was a lovely smile… though it froze when she set the point against his heart. 'I'm still listening. For someone who's not a werewolf, you know a great deal about them.'
'Silver Flame,' he said. 'It comes with the church. As for Toli, I think it would be obvious. He was taken after the welcoming feast, along with some of the other delegates. It's a good thing you had an early night-otherwise you might be howling at the moon yourself.'
'But you said Zaeurl wasn't behind this.'
'She's not. She's a werewolf-she doesn't have a choice in the matter. She needs to obey when her master calls.'
Master. Then it came to her. He had power over those who were touched by the wild; he could drive them to madness or force them to do his bidding. 'The Moonlord.'
'Yes.'
'You knew about him?'
'Yes, I did.' Drego's voice was calm.
'And you're here to stop him?'
'No. I'm afraid that's where we have a little problem.'
'What are you talking about? He's trying to spread a plague across the Five Nations! The same plague your people fought so hard to stop!'
'Exactly.' Drego seemed, if anything, pleased-as if she'd just solved the puzzle.
'What do you mean, 'exactly'?'
'The same plague we fought so hard to stop. And did stop. Don't you see, Nyrielle? This is exactly what the world needs. I didn't come here to stop it from happening. I came to make sure it did happen.'
Thorn pressed the blade against his skin. 'Give me one good reason to let you live.'
'The end of war.' He smiled at her surprise. 'Don't you see? This is exactly what we need. A common enemy, a threat that compels us to join forces. The first crusade against lycanthropy brought hundreds of thousands to the Church of the Silver Flame. The second will reunite Galifar, as people remember what saved them before.'
'Convenient that it's Breland and Aundair that stand on the front line of this new threat, and Thrane that holds the seat of the Silver Flame.'
Drego shrugged. 'I did say I was pursuing the interests of my people. They just happen to coincide with yours. Be reasonable, Nyri. Tens of thousands died in the Silver Crusade. Perhaps more will be lost this time. But how many died in the Mourning? This is a chance to force reunification without war. The people will demand it.'
He could be right. Steel was in her hand and his voice was in her head. The most zealous followers of the Silver Flame are Aundairians, as a direct result of the crusade. The battle against the shapechangers is one of the fundamental things people know about the church. If there's a new plague of lycanthropy, people may turn to the Flame.
'You don't know that,' Thorn said. 'People might band together to face the common threat. Or they might turn on each other. And the Church may not be strong enough to face this challenge again. You're gambling with the fate of the world.'
'I like the odds. And we shatter Droaam in the process. The Moonlord is no friend to the Daughters of Sora Kell. He'll tear their forces away and turn these beasts against each other. Come on, Nyrielle. Don't you want to change the world?' He smiled, and a part of her wanted to work with him, wanted to turn her back on everything she'd done before. But that was a tiny spark that flickered and died.
She thought about Beren's tales of fighting on the Droaamish front. She remembered Sheshka's tales about the dark times of her youth-the infection that turned its victims against their loved ones. And she imagined the trollbear smashing through a Brelish village, how many common soldiers-men like her father-would fall fighting such a beast.
'Not like this,' she said.
One moment, her knife was against his chest. The next, he was six paces away from her. Magic was at work, and his spell was still active. He was standing right in front of her, but he was flickering, wavering. With her enhanced senses, she could feel him slipping in and out of existence.
He's shifting between planes, Steel whispered. Any attack or spell may pass through him, and if he needs to, he can slip away through solid matter… walking through a wall while he's on another plane.
'I don't want to kill you, Nyrielle,' Drego said, and his voice was warped by the spell, rising and falling. 'When the sun rises, this will be inevitable, and we'll be able to fight on the same side. But I can't let you stop it.'
'It's not up to you.' Thorn charged forward, spinning on her heel and aiming a kick for Drego's temple. By the time the sun came up, it would be over, one way or the other. Though they came from different nations, relied on different skills… she felt a bond to Drego. Somehow, whatever it was, she didn't want to kill him.
He blinked out of existence just before she struck him, and her foot passed through empty air. He reappeared a few feet away, holding his hand toward her. The air rippled as a field of energy took shape in the form of a giant hand. By the time she knew what it was, it was already wrapped around her, pinning her limbs with iron strength.
'It's over,' Drego said. 'I'll have to bind you, I'm afraid. As for your companions, the medusa is supposed to be dead already. And as for Stormblade-if he is truly who he appears to be, I'm sure that Thrane could use another champion.'
'My sword belongs to Galifar.' Perhaps Thorn had distracted Drego; perhaps it was an indomitable will finally breaking its bonds. Harryn Stormblade was striding toward Drego Sarhain, and lightning crackled around his greatsword.
Drego grinned. 'If that's true, shouldn't it be broken?' His next word struck Thorn's ears with physical force. She felt a moment's pain, but the impact on Stormblade was far more severe. His armor rattled, but his sword was the target of Drego's spell. The metal shivered and shook, and for a moment it seemed like it would shatter. And then the moment passed.
'That's quite a sword,' Drego said. The blade flashed in Harryn's hands, but once again, Sarhain vanished just before the blow landed. He returned a few feet away. 'Let's try again. I've got time.'
All the while, Thorn was struggling against her bonds, but to no avail. The ghostly hand might as well have been made of stone. Her muscles simply couldn't match the magic. All she could do was watch the battle between
