"If you swear to Zagara, the God of Light," she said firmly, "I'll free you and welcome you as one of Thegara's own. There are many of your kind living here now. They are living ordinary lives. Help us. Tell us everything you know. Draw us a map of where the armies are camped, and I'll grant your wishes."
The goblin stared at her, stunned. For a fleeting second, a flicker of light danced in his yellow eyes. Hope! But just as quickly, it vanished, snuffed out like a candle in the wind.
"No," he whispered. "I don't deserve it. Let me stay here. I'll still tell you everything."
Ren narrowed her eyes. "Why?"
"Because I hurt too many of your guards," he admitted, voice thick with guilt. "The female shifter, the one who lost her arm, the one you healed her wound, I was the one who took it from her. I had no choice. If we didn't kill or maim on the battlefield, the vampire lords would either slaughter us or turn us into one of those demons."
