Sylvanas slid her gaze from his blubbering lips to the tower looming above. His failure would complicate things considerably, and soured the triumph that had a moment ago felt so complete.
“Must I tell you to go?”
Nathanos swallowed hard, crushing the vial in his hand, a crunch like bone. The shimmering dust slid between his fingers like sand. “I will return to the Marris Stead, my lady, and await your orders.”
She heard the note of hope in his voice, fragile as a fledgling dropped from the nest.
“Go where you will, Nathanos, but do not be idle. The loa knows the Shadowlands well, I expect you will return to me with means to prevent his meddling.” Sylvanas flicked her fingers, as if ridding herself of a speck of muck. “My path lies ahead.”