Chapter 8
When it became clear that he would need to remain in the Night Elves' camp for some time, Phage Marrowice sent Gray and the dragon back to the camp.
"See if you can get across to the others that she'll be all right," Phage said.
Gray clattered his jaw for a second. "Esss," he said.
"I suppose it will do," Phage said. "Go on."
Gray tapped the dragon's side with a bony finger. The possessed creature heaved herself into the air, giant wings beating as she labored for altitude. A few seconds later, dragon and skeleton were out of sight.
Viri Starwater met him at the camp's border as he returned.
"How exactly did you manage to recruit a dragon?" she said. "Unless, of course, it is some secret of the Scourge."
"I hope sincerely that the Scourge never finds out," Phage said. "And it wasn't me. If Gray and the banshee hadn't managed it, I would be ashes at this moment."
He looked over toward the moon wells. After a cursory washing, the druid had placed Felwyn Smallfinger directly into one of the structures, with a tall archer holding her head above the shallow water. Phage could not see her face, but he guessed from her occasional movement that she was still conscious.
"She will be scarred," Viri said from beside him. To the extent that it was possible for a stern woman, her voice was gentle. "Not all our arts can prevent that."
"I understand," Phage said. "I don't think she'll mind. Scars have a value among the acolytes."
"I had believed that was true of my own people," Viri said, as if to herself. "I begin to wonder if I was wrong."
Phage looked at her. The Elf watched her subordinates work, but her dark eyes were distant. Her customary harness did nothing to hide the violet scar tissue that formed a twisted star on the purple surface of her right shoulder.
"And where did you come by that one?" he asked.
Huntress Starwater glanced downward. "At Mount Hyjal," she said.
"I see. Hit by a mace, were you?"
"Held by an abomination," she said briefly. "Yes."
"It seems curious that a veteran of that battle should be chosen for a posting such as this one," Phage said. "I do not presume to ask your orders, but I suspect they are similar to mine." Keep an eye on the Orcs, and stay out of sight.
"Probably," Viri said.
"I know why I was sent here. I have little experience, no connections, and no pedigree. But you…"
"I have too much experience, few connections, and am equally ill-born," Viri said. "You will pardon the expression."
"Of course."
"When I told you that few Night Elves became wisps, I spoke from experience. My own parents were two such."
"Er… What happened to them?" Phage asked, when she did not seem about to continue.
"A tree fell on them," she said flatly. "During a lightning storm."
"How old were you?"
"Oh, I was a hundred by then," Viri said. "Old enough to serve the Goddess by joining the Sentinels. But I have not advanced in rank since I was a hundred and fifty."
Impossible to judge her age, of course, Phage thought. It always is. He took some slight comfort in the fact that his own age was equally impossible to judge. To have wrinkles, one must first have skin.
"That… Seems like a long time," he said.
"Over seventeen hundred years," Viri said.
You thought you had problems, Phage thought, calculating silently. She hasn't been promoted since Ner'zhul's ancestors were grubbing in the dirt on Draenor.
"And I assure you I will lose what rank I have gained, unless I can prevent my superiors from learning what I have done today," Viri Starwater said.
"At least they won't kill you," Phage said. "Mine will. Having experienced it once, I am less than enthusiastic about repeating the process."
"I suppose there is the possibility that they will never find out," Viri said.
"I'm afraid it's too late for that, Mistress," said a voice from behind Phage. He turned to see another huntress sitting astride her panther. Viri did not seem surprised that she was there. No doubt Night Elf ears were more sensitive than… Whatever Phage was using to hear. He was not entirely sure himself.
"Meisha," Viri said, without turning around. "I supposed it would be the druid Darkthunder. I never thought it would be you."
"I've been worried about you," the other woman said, edging her mount up on Viri's right side. "I sent Darkthunder to obtain written confirmation of our orders."
"Then you know I have specific orders to kill any Undead we meet," Viri said.
"I'm afraid so, Mistress. I wish now that I had never asked, but having done so, I cannot ignore what I know."
Phage was forced to slide sideways rapidly as the lioness whirled at some silent signal. He watched as she faced down the panther, tail twitching. Viri stared at Meisha without expression. After a moment, the other woman looked away.
"Then you must relieve me of my command," Viri said quietly. "But not before the girl has left the camp. I gave my word that she would be healed. You will not harm either her or the Lich, unless you kill me first."
"And I am prepared to make that very difficult for you," Phage said. Both of them ignored him.
"I would not have you break your word," Meisha said. "Though I believe you were wrong to give it. You may keep all that is yours here, and take Brightfangs. No one else would be able to ride her, in any case."
"You can't let me go," Viri said. "I should be sent back under guard."
"We cannot spare enough troops to send with you," Meisha said. "Especially when we lose the best warrior in the camp as it is."
"You see how hard is the way you have chosen?" Viri said, without rancor. "Yet I hope it proves easier than mine, in the end. We will not speak again, Meisha Swiftrider."
"Then goodbye, Viri Starwater," Meisha said, and the panther faded back into the shadows.
"I know it makes little difference, but I am sorry," Phage said as the silence lengthened.
"I, too, am sorry," Viri said. "And it makes no difference at all. You should be able to take your acolyte home soon, Phage Marrowice."
With that, she turned the lioness and faded into the leafy foliage of the camp.