Fletcher gaped at her. He couldn’t believe the words coming out of her mouth.
“Am I to understand,” he began, fighting to keep his tone inoffensive, “that you won’t help the one creature who can save us, because you’re afraid of what will happen if he dies? How does that make any sense? You could make the difference in this war, you can—”
“It is not a question of if he will die, it is a question of when,” she shot back savagely. “It is foolish to pit ourselves against Necrovar, for once Necrovar claims Lord Thorion’s soul, he will be balanced and invincible. If you resist him, you will be cut down. If you fight him with armies, he will build armies of shadowbeasts from your dead. Allentria has already lost, but humans refuse to acknowledge it.”
Fletcher mouthed wordlessly at the lumina.
