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.“Did you, too, know I would return, little banshee?”“I did,” Sylvanas said coldly.It was true; he had to, or else she would never have her chance for revenge.He twitched a finger, demanding more from her, and she gasped as pain shuddered through her.“Prince Arthas,” she added.“Ah, but you will now address me as king.This is, after all, my land.I was born to rule and I shall.Once the—”He broke off, inhaling sharply.His eyes widened and then his face contorted in pain.He hunched over the bony neck of his horse, his gauntleted hands clenching hard on the reins.A sharp cry of agony was wrenched from him.Sylvanas watched, experiencing the most pleasure she had known since that dreadful day when Quel’Thalas had fallen.She drank in his pain like nectar.She had no idea why he was suffering so, but she savored every second of it.Grunting, he lifted his head.His eyes stared at something she couldn’t see, and he extended an imploring hand toward it.“The pain…is unbearable,” Arthas growled through gritted teeth.“What is happening to me?” He appeared to listen, as if an unheard voice was replying.“King Arthas!” Kel’Thuzad cried.“Do you need assistance?”Arthas didn’t reply at once.He gasped for breath, then slowly sat up, visibly composing himself.“No…no, the pain has passed but…my powers…are diminished.” His voice was full of puzzlement.Had Sylvanas still possessed a beating heart, it would have leaped at the words.“Something is terribly wrong here.I—”The pain took him again.His body spasmed, his head falling back as his mouth opened in a soundless cry of pain, the veins on his neck standing out like cords.Kel’Thuzad fluttered around his adored master like a fussy nursemaid.Sylvanas simply watched coldly until the spasm had passed.Slowly, carefully, he slid off Invincible.His booted feet hit the flagstones, slipped out from under him and he fell, hard.The lich reached out a skeletal hand to help the prince—no, self-styled king—to his feet.“My old quarters,” gasped Arthas.“I need rest—and then I have a long journey to prepare for.”Sylvanas watched him go, staggering weakly in the direction of the rooms he had grown up in.She let her lips curve into a smile….…and the spectral fingers on her hands twitched for a moment, then curled up into angry fists.It was oddly peaceful in Silverpine.Soft mists swirled gently near the moist, pine-needle-covered earth.Sylvanas knew that if she had possessed physical feet, she would have felt it soft and springy beneath them; would have inhaled a rich evergreen scent from the moist air.But she felt nothing, smelled nothing.She floated, insubstantial, toward the meeting site.And such was her eagerness for the meeting that at this moment she did not regret her lack of senses.Arthas had enjoyed turning beautiful, proud, strong-willed quel’dorei women into banshees, after his “success” with her.He had given them to she who had been their ranger-general in life, to control and command, tossing her a bone like she was a faithful hound.He would shortly see how faithful a pet she was.After overhearing the dreadlords’ conversation earlier, she had sent one of her banshees after them to speak with them and gather information.The demons had accepted her emissary with pleasure, and had asked for her mistress to join them tonight to discuss something of “mutual benefit regarding the Banshee Queen’s current status.”In the depths of the forest, she could see a faint green glow, and floated toward it.Sure enough, they awaited her as they had said they would—three great demons turning to her, their wings flapping and betraying their agitation.Balnazzar spoke first.“Lady Sylvanas, we are pleased that you came.”“How could I not?” she responded.“For some reason I no longer hear the Lich King’s voice in my head.My will is my own once again.” It was indeed; and it was purely by that will that she kept the elation from her voice.She did not wish them to know more than she chose.“You dreadlords seem to know why.”They exchanged glances, their faces curving into smiles.“We’ve discovered that the Lich King is losing his power,” Varimathras said, hellish glee in his voice.“As it wanes, so too does his ability to command undead such as you.”That was good news indeed, if it were actually true.But it was not specific enough for Sylvanas.“And what of King Arthas?” she pressed, unable to keep a sneer out of her voice as she used the death knight’s title.“What about his powers?”Balnazzar waved a black-clawed hand dismissively.“He will cease to annoy us, like a summerfly whose time has come and gone.Though his runeblade, Frostmourne, carries powerful enchantments, Arthas’s own powers will fade in time.It is inevitable.”Sylvanas was not so certain.She, too, had once underestimated Arthas, and along with the cold hatred in her heart, she also bore guilt for her part in his blood-soaked victory.“You seek to overthrow him, and want my help to do it,” she said bluntly.Detheroc, the one who appeared to be in charge, had stood quietly by while his brothers spoke to Sylvanas.They had been angry and impassioned, but his expression had remained neutral.Now, at last he spoke, in cold tones of utter loathing.“The Legion may be defeated, but we are the nathrezim.We’ll not let some upstart human get the best of us.” He paused, looking at them each in turn.“Arthas must fall!”The glowing green gaze settled upon Sylvanas.“As you have been watching us, little ghost, so have we been observing as well.It is obvious that the lich, Kel’Thuzad, is far too loyal to betray his master.There appears to be…affection between the two.” His gray lips curved in a dangerous smile.“But you, on the other hand…”“Hate him.” She did not think she could hide that truth even if she wanted to, so fiercely did it burn inside her.“We are united in that much, dreadlord.I have my own reasons for seeking vengeance.Arthas murdered my people and turned me into this…monstrosity.” She paused for a moment, the loathing—of both Arthas and what he had done to her—so intense it took away her ability to speak.They waited, patiently, smugly.They thought they could use her.They would be wrong.“I may take part in your bloody coup, but I will do so in my own way.” She wanted them as allies, but they needed to know that she would be no toy.“I will not exchange one master for another.If you wish my aid, then you must accept that.”Detheroc smiled.“We will slay the death knight together, then.”Sylvanas nodded, and a slow smile crept across her ghostly face.Your days have numbers, King Arthas Menethil.And I…I am the hourglass.CHAPTER TWENTY-TWOArthas rubbed his temple, going over and over the visions he had seen.Always before, communication from the Lich King had come only from Frostmourne.But the instant the crippling pain had struck him, Arthas had actually seen the being he served for the first time.The Lich King was alone, in the middle of a vast cavern, as imprisoned in the unnatural ice as Frostmourne had been.But this had been no sleek covering of his form.The encasing ice had been fractured, as if someone had broken off a piece and left the jagged remains behind
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