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sanctums had temporarily left their posts to join the fight. While they could not fly, any wounded twilight dragon who had the misfortune to land while merely injured was dispatched quickly. It was too easy.
    And second, all the fighting was gathered in one spot.
    Why?
    A better tactic would have been to separate the various dragons, surround them, lure them away from any protective defenders, and utilize the architecture of the temple itself as a weapon. But the twilight dragons were clustered as thick as a colony of ants above the apex of the temple, right where they would make fine targets for Ysera and Alexstrasza.
    Alexstrasza’s gut twisted as a nameless, almost crippling fear shot through her. Something was horribly wrong.
    “Break away from the enemy!” she cried, her voice clear and strong and belying her terror. “Lead them from the temple and attack them one by one!”
    The defending dragons heard, and immediately scattered in all directions. The twilight dragons stayed clustered in a tight huddle, only a few of them breaking what now to Alexstrasza’s eyes seemed almost like a formation to follow their prey.
    And then she realized what it was. They had not come to attack. They had come to distract—
    The explosion, both physical and metaphysical, was powerful enough to send Alexstrasza hurtling head over tail through the air, tumbling helplessly as a newly hatched whelp caught in a cyclone. She extended her wings and bellowed in sharp, surprised pain as they were almost ripped off, but managed to catch herself. Herentire body felt as if it had been pummeled by a living mountain, and for a long moment she could hear nothing.
    But she could see. And as the pain ripped through her, she wished she could not.
    Wyrmrest Temple still stood. Barely. Several of the glorious, graceful arches had been shattered, their remnants looking like melted ice. Red magical energy roiled upward from the base of the temple.
    And at the base of the temple were—
    “The sanctums!” someone cried. “Our children!”
    Many of them broke and dove downward, and for a terrible instant that lasted an eternity Alexstrasza could not find her voice.
    The Ruby Sanctum … the children … Korialstrasz …!
    When she did finally find the ability to speak, she could not herself believe what she was saying.
    “Hold fast!” she cried. “We cannot afford to lose anyone else! Drive off the enemy, my flight! Do not let them harm us further!”
    More than her own red dragonflight rallied at her impassioned cry, funneling their rage and grief and terror at what they feared had just happened into their attacks. The twilight dragons seemed startled by the ferocity, and soon enough fled.
    Alexstrasza did not give pursuit. She folded her wings and dove earthward, heart shaking her with its frightened pounding, deathly afraid at what she might find.
    The Twilight Father stood on the top of one of the many mountains that jutted upward in the Dragonblight. He did not seem to feel the cold as the wind tugged at his hooded cloak, and kept the hood firmly in place with one hand. The other hand was closed tightly about a small silver chain, the links tiny and finely crafted.From the shadowy darkness of the cowl, his eyes, set deep in a craggy, gray-bearded face, peered out. He had been watching the battle with pleasure, issuing his booming taunts to rattle the Life-Binder with an almost childlike glee.
    But the explosion that had so devastated the dragonflights had also surprised and dismayed him.
    Beside the large, stockily built man stood a beautiful young woman. Long, blue-black hair whipped in a wind that brought a pink hue to her otherwise pale cheeks. The thin chain that the Twilight Father held in his gloved hand culminated in a circle about her slender throat, almost like an elegant necklace. She, too, seemed impervious to the cold, although her tears had frozen on her face. Now, though, she smiled, and the tears cracked and fell to the cold stone