The Demon Soul (29 page)

Not wanting to leave the soldiers defenseless against the warlocks’ dark magic, Rhonin had Illidan pick out a dozen of the best from the sorcerers’ ranks, and left the rest to see to the battle. He would only need them once he had the spell ready to cast. The Moon Guard would amplify it, spread it where he needed it to go.

But only if Rhonin succeeded with his part.

“Illidan…I need you to guide me,” the wizard said when everything else was prepared. “I need you to bring me to the Well itself.”

“Yes, Master Rhonin!” The night elf eagerly stood next to him as they prepared to reach out with their minds to the source of all night elven magic. Up until this point, Rhonin had been touching peripherally on the power of the Well. Unlike Illidan’s people, he had not needed to rely on direct use, which gave him a very distinct advantage. Illidan and a few others had learned from the human how to do this, but not to the same degree. Now, however, Rhonin needed to draw as much as he could so that he could be guaranteed of the results he desired.

Far away, a horn sounded. Lord Ravencrest was setting up everything in preparation for Rhonin’s grand spell…or grand catastrophe.

Standing side by side, the two spellcasters reached out with their thoughts and linked. Rhonin felt Illidan’s wild nature and tried to keep it in check. The night elf ’s zealousness was a definite threat to the stability of the spell.

Illidan’s mind drew the wizard forward. Through his inner eye, Rhonin watched the landscape rip past as he and his companion sought to touch the Well. Endless rows of demons followed by miles of ravaged landscape passed within a single second. Briefly, the ruined city of Zin-Azshari rose up, then filled his gaze. The grand palace of Queen Azshara dominated next…and finally the black waters of the Well of Eternity greeted the human.

Its power staggered him. Rhonin had always assumed that he had sensed the Well enough simply by drawing upon that part of it which permeated all Kalimdor. Now he realized he had been mistaken, that the Well itself was such a fount of pure energy that if he could command it all, he felt it would make of him a god.

A god…

Everything that Rhonin had dreamed of when first he had taken up the robes of wizardry now seemed so simple. He could raise up entire cities, or tear them down with the blink of an eye. He could call up the power of the earth, then send it crashing down on any who opposed him. He could—

With tremendous effort, Rhonin freed himself of his dark ambitions. A sudden anxiety filled him as he recognized the Well. He had known what it was all along, and yet his mind had denied the evil.

It had the same taint as the demons. Pure magic it might be, but in its way it corrupted as much as Sargeras did.

But it was too late to turn back. Rhonin had to delve into the Well this once, then never touch it in such a manner again. Even drawing upon it as he had in the past now repulsed him, but to give it up completely meant that he would have to give up all magic…and Rhonin knew he was too weak of soul to ever do that much.

Sensing Illidan’s impatience and curiosity, the wizard quickly took up the power he needed from the dark depths. The temptation to let it all engulf his mind proved daunting, but with effort he retreated from the cursed waters.

Within moments, the minds of the night elf and him had returned to their bodies. The link to the Well remained as strong as ever. Rhonin prepared to cast, knowing that the sooner he did, the sooner he could be rid of the foul sensation in his soul.

It begins now, he told Illidan.

Instantly, he felt Malfurion’s twin prepare the Moon Guard for the task. What the wizard fed them they would send out toward the enemy, multiplying its intensity more than a hundredfold.

With ease, Rhonin constructed the spell matrix that his masters in Dalaran had died working on. He briefly thanked their departed souls, regardless of the fact that none of the wizards would be born for centuries to come. Then, when Rhonin was satisfied that the matrix would remain stable—the wizard unleashed the spell.

Illidan and the others mentally shook as it reverberated through their systems. To his credit the young sorcerer kept the much more practiced spellcasters from buckling. The very ambition that Rhonin feared now kept his plans together.

And so, they struck at the demons’ lines.

A ripple of ear-shattering sound hit the Burning Legion without even touching the soldiers who frantically battled them. Massive demons shrieked and dropped their weapons as they tried to shut the sound out. The vibrations shattered their insides, tore apart their minds. As the wave raced over their forces, the demons fell as if swept by some giant broom.

All across the front, they perished. The soldiers stood frozen, shaken up by what they witnessed.

“Now, Ravencrest,” Rhonin whispered. “Now.”

The horns sounded, urging a rapid advance.

The night elves shouted. Panther riders led the way. They charged across the field, seeking the enemy…but ahead of them lay only the dead. The sound wave continued to race on, cutting a swath of swift but violent death. No demon caught in its path lived. Hundreds perished.

Rhonin suddenly felt his body give up on him. He wob-bled, his head feeling as if it, like the demons’, would explode.

The wizard fell.

“I have you, Master Rhonin…”

Illidan eased him to the ground, the night elf none the worse for the wear. He was, in fact, the only one. The rest of the Moon Guard involved in the grand spell looked as terrible as the wizard felt. Most of them sat or even fell down, not at all caring that the soldiers now advanced from them.

“Did you see it? Did you see what we did?” demanded Illidan eagerly. “This proves it! There’s no power like the Well!” He glanced at something or someone whom Rhonin himself could not see. “The Well is the way, brother! You see? Nothing else compares!”

He continued shouting to an absent Malfurion. Rhonin, still seeking to regain his strength, could only stare. Illidan’s avarice, his jealousy, was so apparent that it almost bordered on hatred for the druid.

Rhonin’s spell had sent the demons into flight, possibly turned the tide of the war forever…but as he watched Illidan’s intense expression and thought of his own near seduction by the Well, the wizard wondered if he had just unleashed something more terrible on the night elf race.

Korialstrasz brooded, his patience growing very thin. The dragons had all been ordered to await the word of the Aspects. When that came, every flight would take to the air as if of one mind, one soul. The plan was to descend upon the demons as a terrifying force, the Dragon Soul ripping apart the demon lines before the leviathans themselves struck.

A simple, workable plan. A faultless plan.

A plan that, for reasons he could not express even to himself, Korialstrasz did not trust.

But the male red was loyal to his queen, his mate, and so he did nothing. Alexstrasza trusted in Neltharion’s creation. More to the point, she trusted in the Earth Warder himself. Whatever uncertainties Korialstrasz had, they had to remain unspoken.

“Ever the thinker, my love. Ever the worrier.”

He raised his head in surprise as the gigantic female entered his lair. “Alexstrasza,” he rumbled. “You are to be with the other Aspects…”

“I have made excuses for my momentary absence. Neltharion is not pleased, but he will have to control himself.”

Korialstrasz lowered his head in homage to her. “How may I be of service to you, my queen?”

A hint of indecision glinted in her eyes. In a voice so very quiet for a dragon, she replied, “I need you to disobey me.”

Her consort was perplexed. “My love?”

“All save the sentinels that each of us posted are supposed to remain in this, the vastest of the cavern systems, until the moment of the launch. I wish you to ignore my earlier command and leave.”

He was stunned. Clearly the other Aspects were not to know of this departure. “And where am I to go?”

“I don’t know precisely, but I hope that you’ll be able to sense exactly where once you’re beyond the barrier. I want you to find Krasus.”

Krasus. The mysterious mage had been much on the mind of Korialstrasz, too. Krasus likely knew things that would have cleared up much that disturbed the consort. “He should still be with the night elves—”

“No…he was near us only a short time ago. Ysera told me that a night elf called Malfurion sought to act as his messenger through her. However, she distrusted such an action, and so made the night elf wait until the moment was right.”

“And?”

“When Ysera sought for Malfurion again, he had vanished. She told me all this while Neltharion and Malygos discussed the spellwork of the Soul.”

“But why would Krasus come here?” The anxieties felt by the male red multiplied. The journey from the lands of the night elves was quite a distance for one who could not fly several miles in the space of a few minutes.

“That is what I want to know.”

“I’ll do my best to find him, but it may prove harder than you imagine.”

The queen snorted. She shut her eyes in thought for a moment, then nodded. “Yes, you must know now.”

“Know what?”

“My love, you’ve felt the closeness between you and Krasus. You would almost describe him as a clutch brother, wouldn’t you?”

He had not thought so before, but now that Alexstrasza said it, Korialstrasz realized that, yes, Krasus did hold such an esteemed place in his heart. It had nothing to do with the scales they had shared to overcome their weakness; something about the mysterious figure had made the consort come to trust him as much as he did his glorious mate.

And, at times, even more so.

Alexstrasza read his face. “Know this, my love. The reason you and Krasus are so close is that he and you are one and the same.”

The male red blinked. Surely he had heard wrong. Surely Alexstrasza meant something else.

But she shook her massive head, stating, “Krasus is you, Korialstrasz. He is you much older, much more learned, much wiser. He is you countless centuries forward.”

“That is impossible—” A sudden thought occurred to him. “Is this some trick of Nozdormu? His absence has been very questionable…”

“Nozdormu has some part in this, yes, but I can’t tell you exactly how. Just understand that Krasus is here because he must be.”

“Then, the outcome of the war is assured. The Dragon Soul will help us triumph over the demons. My concerns were for naught.”

“Your concerns are valid. We don’t know anything about the outcome. Krasus fears that Nozdormu has sent him here because the timeline has shifted. There was a point where I had to consider eliminating him and his companion in order to preserve it, but it soon became evident that matters had gone beyond such.”

Korialstrasz gazed at her with wide, wondering orbs. “You would have slain…me?”

“At his insistence, my love.”

He mulled that over and saw her reasoning. “Forgive me. Yes, my queen, I’ll go searching for him.”

“I thank you. His memories were much damaged by the journey to our time, perhaps because he already existed here as you. Still, he is sharp of wit in most ways, and if there is something he urgently needed to discuss, then it behooves us to find him.”

“I go immediately.”

Alexstrasza dipped her head in gratitude. “I must pretend that you do this by your own leave, Korialstrasz.”

“Of course. I won’t fail you, my queen.”

She gave him a most loving look, then departed his lair. The male waited just long enough for her to be nowhere near, then left, too.

To his relief, it proved not at all difficult to leave the mountain itself, for most of the dragons now sat poised, awaiting the command to fly. The few others were like himself or Tyran, consorts with positions of leadership who had to be near if the Aspects needed them.

Evading the sentinels beyond was slightly more troublesome. The first—of his own flight—he managed to evade by being aware of the other’s personality traits. Horakastrasz was a young, eagle-eyed male, but he had a tendency to become distracted. As Korialstrasz came upon him, the bored guardian had begun batting large rocks into the air with his tail, then watching them plummet to the ground far below. As he hit the next, Korialstrasz soared over him, flying high enough that the other red would not sense the shift in the air currents.

By one means or another, he passed the rest undiscovered. As he flew toward the barrier, Korialstrasz prepared himself for contact. He struck the invisible wall head-on, feeling as if he pushed through molasses. Wings flapping as hard as possible, the dragon burst through the other side, soaring miles beyond before he managed to regain proper control.