The Sundering (24 page)

What struck the red was clearly but a fraction of the Demon Soul’s might, but it was enough. Brox himself felt the repercussion of the shock wave that hit Korialstrasz dead on. The dragon quivered, moaned
…
and ceased flapping his wings.

The leviathan veered back toward the peaks. The ground rushed up. Brox began reciting the names of his ancestors, calling on them to ready themselves for his coming.

The unyielding side of a granite mountain filled his gaze
…

“What did you do?” Illidan snapped.

“I used the disk…” Captain Varo’then replied, his tone initially filled with awe. Then, awareness returned and he studied both the piece and his companion.
“
You were right! It’s everything you said and more! One could become an emperor with it
…”

“And one could be flayed alive by Sargeras for even thinking such.”

The temptation crossing the officer’s face vanished.
“
And rightly should they be, sorcerer. I trust you’ve not entertained such a foolish notion.
”

Malfurion’s twin smiled ever so briefly.
“
No more than you would, dear captain.
”

“The queen will be most pleased by the results of our quest. The Soul secured, its power proven on a full-grown red dragon, and the end of two of those most responsible for the delays thus far.”

“You could have used the disk differently,” the sorcerer pointed out, “and saved the pair for questioning.”

Varo’then scoffed.
“
What could they tell us that we need to know now? This—” He thrust the disk toward Illidan. “—is all that is required for victory.
”
The other night elf leaned forward, his mouth bending down cruelly.
“
Unless you’ve some remorse concerning your brother? Some dis-loyal regret?
”

Adjusting his scarf, Illidan snorted.
“
You saw how I treated him. Does that look like brotherly love?
”

“A point well taken,” his companion said after a time. The captain thrust the disk back into the pouch. As he did, his brow furrowed slightly.

“Something else wrong, captain?”

“No…just thought…there were voices…no…nothing.” He did not notice Illidan’s studious expression, which vanished the moment the officer looked at the sorcerer again.
“
I think it nothing. Now, come. The cats are under control again. We need to get the disk back to Zin-Azshari as soon as possible, don’t we?
”

“Of course.”

Varo’then secured his animal and mounted. Illidan did likewise, but, as he climbed up, he took the moment to briefly look back at the mountains.

Look back and frown bitterly.

They should have been back by now, so Rhonin thought as he stared in the direction that Krasus and the others had ridden. They should have been back. Somehow, he knew something had gone wrong. When the night sabers had returned with the elder mage’s note, the human’s hopes had risen. Korialstrasz should have enabled the party to make much quicker time. They should have reached their destination long ago and surely Krasus would have wasted no time in attempting to secure the Demon Soul.

Yes, something had gone terribly wrong.

He mentioned none of this to Jarod, who had his own mountain of troubles. It was not that the meeting in Blackforest’s tent had gone awry; on the contrary, just by being himself, Shadowsong had cemented his position as commander. At some time during the last battle, the former Guard captain had reached a point where he could not stand by and let foolish orders, whatever the caste of their source, pass as wise council.

When another noble had suggested a flanking maneuver that would have likely ended with the host fragmented, Jarod had started in, explaining why such would only create a debacle that would destroy the night elves. That he had to make this clear to what should have been the most learned of his race astounded the human. In the end, Jarod had managed to turn every noble there into his loyal followers, so relieved were they to have someone who appeared to have an instinctive grasp of tactics.

Rhonin had, at first, assumed that he would have to secretly guide Jarod, but the young night elf did know what he was doing. The wizard had seen Jarod’s kind before—born with an ability the greatest learning could not surpass—and gave thanks to Elune and whatever other deity might have been responsible for granting the defenders someone to take Ravencrest’s place.

But with the quest for the disk in jeopardy, would even Jarod be enough?

Jarod joined the wizard. The reluctant leader of the host wore a newly-polished set of armor given to him by Blackforest, one that bore no crest, but did have red and orange arcs running down both sides to the waist. The cloak was likewise colored and flowed about him like a possessive lover. He now also had a crested helmet, the fiery tail—made from dyed night saber hair—dangling below his neck.

Behind him came his ever-present retinue, subofficers and liaisons for the varying noble leaders. Jarod paused to wave the group away from him before finally speaking.

“Once, I’d have dreamt of no greater honor than to rise to a rank of privilege and wear the fine garments appropriate to my new station,
”
Jarod remarked dourly.
“
Now, I just feel like I look like a buffoon!
”

“You won’t get much argument from me,
”
Rhonin admitted.
“
But it impresses the lot, so you’ll have to make due with it, at least for now. When your authority’s stronger, you can begin dispensing with the trappings, piece by piece.
”

“I can hardly wait.”

The wizard led him farther away.
“
Cheer up, Jarod! It won’t do if your people see their new hope looking so bleak. They might fear for their chances.
”

“I fear for our chances, especially with me in command!
”

The human would not permit him such talk. Leaning close, Rhonin snapped,
“
Thanks to you, we live! Yes, that includes me, too! You will come to terms with this! We’ve heard nothing yet from the others, which means that you, I, and those dying in battle may be the only hope for Kalimdor
…
the only hope for the future!
”

He did not elaborate, for it would have been beyond even the erstwhile officer to come to grips with the truth
…
that Rhonin was from a period perhaps ten thousand years later. How could the wizard explain that he fought not only for those who lived, but for those yet to be born, including the ones he loved most.

“I never asked for this…” protested Jarod.

“Neither did the rest of us.”

The night elf sighed. Removing the garish helmet, he wiped his forehead.
“
You’re right, Master Rhonin. Forgive me. I’ll do whatever I can, even if I can’t promise it’ll be much.
”

“Just keep doing what you’re doing
…
the right thing. You turn into another Desdel Stareye and we’re all lost.
”

The new commander gazed down at his finery, sneering at its impeccable state.
“
Little enough chance of that, I promise.
”

That brought a smile to the wizard.
“
Good to hear—”

A horn blared. A battle horn.

Rhonin looked over his shoulder.
“
That’s coming from far down the right flank! There shouldn’t be any Legion force there! They could never get around without us knowing it!
”

Jarod clamped on his helmet.
“
But it appears that they have!
”
He waved the soldiers back over to him.
“
Mount up and bring me my own cat! The wizard’s, also! We need to see what’s happening over there now!
”

They brought the animals with an efficiency that Rhonin had not noted under the leadership of Stareye. These soldiers truly respected Jarod. It was not merely that he now had the backing of so many important if impotent nobles. Word had already spread of his deeds and how he had taken the reins in the moment when everyone else had believed the cause lost.

As the captain—no, former captain, the spellcaster had to remind himself—mounted, a new transformation seem to overcome him. A grim determination spread across his onceinnocent countenance. He urged his night saber on, quickly pushing ahead of Rhonin and the others.

The horn sounded again. The wizard noted that it was a night elven horn. One of Jarod’s first commands and the one that had proven he had the nobles’ backing was to blend the host and its allies better. No longer were Huln’s and Dungard’s people off to the one side. Now, each element of night elf military had its own contingent of outsiders whose skills augmented, not detracted. Even the furbolgs had their part to play, strengthening wedges and using their clubs to crack the skulls of any Fel Guard who tried to reach the valued sorcerers and archers further back.

Many of the changes were simple or subtle and it amazed Rhonin that he had not thought of them himself. However, now something had come to truly test the revamped host. A ploy no one could have expected from Archimonde.

Yet, as they neared, it was not quite a battle that they confronted, but rather a confusion. Night elves sought to bring weapons into play, but the tauren and Earthen that Rhonin saw appeared to have no interest in playing any part in their own defense. They stood idly by as their allies frantically tried to fill the gaps that they created by their inaction.

“What by the Mother Moon are they doing?” Jarod demanded to the air. “They’ll undermine everything! I finally had the nobles convinced of their necessity.
”

Rhonin started to answer, but just then he became aware of something far beyond the line. The enemy was even closer than he could have imagined. The wizard made out hulking forms, winged creatures, and a vast variety of ominous shapes that he, who had faced the Legion in the future, still could not identify.

Oddly, they moved almost at a walking pace and from them Rhonin heard no bloodcurdling calls. There were giants among them, too, giants that dwarfed any demon of which the wizard was familiar. The winged forms did not remind him of Doomguard and although there were other flying horrors among the Burning Legion, he could not recall any matching those approaching.

Jarod reined his night saber to a halt near a tauren that turned out to be none other than Huln.
“
What’s the matter? Why aren’t you fighting?
”

The tauren leader blinked and looked at Jarod as if the questions made no sense.
“
We will not fight these! It would be unthinkable!
”

A pair of Earthen nearby echoed his words with stern nods. Jarod at first looked dismayed, then his expression turned resolute.

“Then, we will fight them ourselves!” he growled, riding past the tauren.

But Rhonin had grown very suspicious concerning the reasons for the allies’ reticence.
“
Wait, Jarod!
”

“Master Rhonin, not you, too?”

The oncoming horde was now close enough that the wizard could make out some individual features
…
enough to verify for him that he had been correct in calling the night elf back.

“They’re not the Legion! They’ve come to join us, I’m sure of that!
”

He was even more certain when he saw that which lead them, a towering creature moving on four swift legs and atop whose shaggy head was a rack of magnificent antlers. The gargantuan being was followed closely by scores of creatures resembling satyrs in that their upper torsos were like those of night elves, but their lower bodies were instead those of fauns and they were all young, beautiful females. They seemed almost as much plant as animal, their skin covered in sleek, green leaves. While more delicate-looking in some ways, there was that about their demeanors that made him suspect that any foe would regret confronting them.

Already caught up in their preparations, the soldiers paid this figure no mind. Rhonin realized that a catastrophe of great proportions would quickly take place if he did not put a stop to things.

“Jarod! Ride up with me, quick!”

With the night elf in tow, the crimson-tressed wizard urged his mount past startled soldiers. Jarod caught up to him, shouting,
“
Are you mad? What are you doing?
”

“Trust me! They are allies!
”

The figure in the lead suddenly loomed over them. Startled, Rhonin barely reined in time.