The Sundering (43 page)

Eyes alight with power, Krasus focused the party’s combined magic at the gateway. The mage trusted to the demon lord’s intense concentration for the success of the spellcasters’ desperate venture.

In comparison to Sargeras, both Archimonde and Mannoroth were as fleas. The power of a hundred dragons would have been as nothing to him. Had Krasus sought to strike Sargeras directly, either in the chest or head, the results would have been laughable, at least to the demon lord. That Brox had managed his miraculous attack at all said much for the power imbued in the weapon by the druid and his shan’do.

No, instead, the mage poured all that he was given by the others at the tiny, insignificant wound Brox’s ax—a piece of Kalimdor’s magic itself—had managed.

And then it happened. Krasus sensed Sargeras’s concentration weaken just for a moment. Not from pain—that would have been too much hope for—but rather, simply from startlement.

Which was what Krasus wanted.
“
Now, Malfurion!
”

Clutching the Demon Soul tight, Malfurion assailed the portal.

Krasus had gambled that the magically-wrought wound would be just sensitive enough to gain the demon lord’s momentary attention if it was struck again. All their assembled might had done had been to create a slight irritation, one upon which Sargeras had instinctively focused instead of the gateway.

The mouth of the maelstrom quivered, then lost cohesion. An explosion of energy erupted from the depths of the whirlpool.

The portal started to collapse.

One side after another, the fiery border surrounding it fell in upon itself. Sargeras attempted to reconstruct it, but by then, it had moved beyond even his power to do so. One precious second had stolen the demon lord’s victory.

And then a thing happened that Krasus could never have dreamed possible. Sargeras, refusing to believe his defeat, stepped within the crumbling portal itself, trying both to rebuild it and cross through. His desire to do so proved his undoing. As the portal imploded, the demon lord found himself trapped. He could not flee, could not pull back. Dropping his sword, the titan even battered against the gateway with his fists, but to no avail. The corridor between realms shrank rapidly, at last crushing in on him. Sargeras roared and his voice echoed in the heads of all.

I will not be denied! I will not!

But the gateway continued to condense and Sargeras seemed to condense with it. He struggled to keep the way open, the interior of the gate aflame from his titanic efforts.

And then, with the demon lord still shouting his rage and beating at the walls
…
the portal ceased to be.

Sargeras ceased to be.

“It’s done!
”
gasped Malfurion.
“
It’s—”

But his voice died as, despite the gateway’s vanishing, the maelstrom in the center of the Well continued to swirl madly. Worse, it appeared to be growing, swelling. Even as the druid watched, the edges ate away at the shoreline of Zin-Azshari.

The night elf glanced over at Krasus.
“
What’s happening?
”

Krasus waved off explanations.
“
We must be away from here! We must get everyone as far from the Well as possible!
”

Alexstrasza and the others quickly veered away, heading for land. Raw energy crackled in and around the black waters. The whole of Zin-Azshari shook and as the dragons passed over, the mage spied massive faults beyond the city’s limits.

“It’s begun
…”
Krasus whispered to himself.
“
May the creators protect us
…
it’s begun and there is nothing we can do to stop it
…”

A new tempest assailed the party, scattering the dragons despite their might. Compensating for this latest storm, the winged leviathans regathered
…
save for one.

Ysera—and thus Malfurion and the disk—was missing.

Krasus quickly scanned the heavens, but of the Aspect, he could see nothing. Not until his gaze turned groundward did the cowled figure see where she had flown.

Back toward the Well of Eternity.

“No!” Even Ysera did not understand what fate was to befall this region. Worse, there was no telling what would happen to the time line if, instead of being carried away, the Demon Soul was lost to the Well’s throes.
“
We must go back! We must get them!
”

To her credit, Alexstrasza immediately banked. Rhonin’s red male and the riderless bronze began to follow, but Krasus waved them on. Concentrating, he managed to enter Rhonin’s thoughts despite the myriad magical forces interfering.

You must go to the host! You must warn Jarod that everyone has to flee as far as they can from the direction of the Well! Flee to Mount Hyjal!

He did not have to explain further, for, of all of them, the human understood best. A child of the future, Rhonin knew what was to come as well as his former mentor did. The wizard leaned forward, speaking to his mount, and, seconds later, the red turned away. The bronze hesitated, then followed.

Krasus watched the landscape as Alexstrasza pursued Ysera’s trail. Near what had once been the gates of the city, a deep crevice as wide as his queen’s wing now stretched. Some of the structures that had been left standing despite the demons’ initial rampage now shook violently and several tumbled over even as the pair soared over.

It is imminent
…
The dragon mage stared ahead, trying to catch a glance of Ysera and the druid. The Sundering is upon Kalimdor
…

A chandelier crashed on the marble floor, the thousand crystals composing it scattering. Several flew with the sharp speed of missiles. One of Azshara’s handmaidens fell, a beautiful, glistening shard through her forehead.

The queen, gripping a pillar for support, eyed the bleeding corpse with frustration. She had enough on her mind without one of her servants sullying her presence so. Yet, clearly no one had the wherewithal to clear the body away. The rest of them, even Vashj, ran around in panic as the walls shook and the floor cracked.

Evidently forgetting the laws against touching the queen’s person without permission, Vashj seized Azshara’s arm.
“
Light of Lights! We must flee the palace! Something has gone terribly wrong! None of the Great One’s warriors remain and the sorcerers have fled the tower! One I stopped claimed a tremendous wind cast out even Lord Mannoroth over the Well!
”

Azshara was already aware of the absence of the warriors of the Burning Legion, her personal bodyguard having been ripped from their positions before her very eyes and sucked through a wall in her chamber. Despite the stunning spectacle, though, the queen refused to believe that Sargeras would not in fact still appear and she intended to be ready when that glorious event took place.

Vashj still tugged on her arm. Azshara’s infinite patience had its limits. She suddenly slapped her lady-in-waiting.

The others froze where they were, the fact that their surroundings threatened to collapse upon them forgotten. They fully expected their mistress to now execute Vashj on the spot.

Instead, in her most regal voice, Azshara commanded,
“
You will all remember your places! I expect you to obey the instructions I have given you! We will continue to prepare for our Lord Sargeras’s entrance
…”

To emphasize her point, she strode to one of her chairs. The first tremor had toppled it over, but Vashj quickly righted it, then dusted off the seat with the hem of her own garment.

Nodding approval, Azshara sat. Her handmaidens immediately took up their positions and Vashj poured the queen a goblet of wine, somehow avoiding spilling it despite the continued shaking of the palace.

“Thank you, Lady Vashj,” the queen of the night elves said graciously. She sipped a bit, then posed herself in expectation. No matter how long it took for Sargeras to arrive, she would be ready for him. He would step before her and be dazzled by her perfection, as all were.

After all, she was Azshara.

As Ysera reached the shore, Malfurion, the Demon Soul pressed against his breast, eyed the grand capital of the night elves with horror. Attuned to the natural forces of Kalimdor, he recognized immediately imminent disaster. Recognized it and realized that he had to act fast.

“My brother and Tyrande! They’re still in Zin-Azshari! Please! I can’t leave them!
”

“You know where they are?”

“I do!”

The massive green dragon nodded.
“
Guide me, but make it quick!
”

They turned off without alerting the others. Malfurion peered across the shoreline. Ysera had flown so swiftly that they had been forced to backtrack some distance, but the druid sensed that they were finally near the other night elves.

There! Tyrande waved to him, the sight of her so wonderful that Malfurion momentarily forgot that he was also here for his twin. Only after recalling that did the druid suddenly note that Illidan was nowhere to be seen.

Ysera landed. As ever, the Aspect gazed around with eyes shut, but Malfurion understood by now that, despite appearances, she could see far better than most creatures.

He leapt off. Tyrande met him, clinging to Malfurion with such intensity that he momentarily could think of nothing else than doing the same. Only when the dragon cleared her throat slightly did the two reluctantly separate.

“Malfurion—” the priestess began.

He put his fingers over her lips.
“
Hush, Tyrande. Where’s Illidan?
”

Her eyes widened briefly. She looked over her shoulder.
“
By the very edge.
”

With a curse, the druid ran past her. Illidan surely knew that the land was crumbling about him. How could he be so mad?

As he scrambled around a ruined tower, Malfurion nearly collided with his twin. Illidan somehow managed to stare at him with his covered eye sockets.

“Brother…a timely return…”

“Illidan! The Well is out of control—”

The sorcerer nodded.
“
Aye! It’s been twisted and turned by too many spells! That fuss we—especially you—made with the Demon Soul was too much! The same spell that sent the Burning Legion back into their foul realm now works on the Well! It’s devouring itself and taking its surroundings with it!
”
He turned back to the black body of water.
“
Fascinating, isn’t it?
”

“Not if we’re caught up in it! Why weren’t you running?
”

Illidan wiped his hand. Only then did Malfurion see the slight glimmer of power surrounding it. He also noted the moisture.

“What’ve you been doing with your hand in the Well, Illidan?
”

At that moment, a tremendous tremor sent both night elves to their knees. Illidan shouted,
“
If you’ve a way out of here, we should probably use it! I’ve tried casting Tyrande and myself out of here, but the Well is too much in flux!
”

“This way!” Malfurion grabbed his brother by the arm and dragged Illidan back to the others. Tyrande already sat upon Ysera. She aided Illidan up, then Malfurion.

At that moment, a huge form hovered overhead. The druid instinctively expected some demonic horror, then saw that it was none other than Krasus and Alexstrasza.

“The Demon Soul!” the mage shouted. “You have it still?”

The night elf slapped one of the pouches at his waist. He had secreted the disk in it just before Ysera had landed.

Krasus nodded in relief.
“
Hurry, then! We must fly fast and far! Even the air will not be safe!
”

Well aware by now that the mage knew so much more than he had yet admitted, Malfurion held on tight. Ysera rose from the rubble just as another crevice opened up beneath her paws.

“Zin-Azshari is going…” the cowled spellcaster cried, “and it is only the beginning!”

The two dragons beat their wings as hard as they could, but they moved as if flying through tar. Malfurion looked behind and saw that the sky above the Well no longer even existed. A huge funnel cloud enshrouded everything. Illidan had spoken much of the truth, it seemed. Between the spellwork of the demons, that of the elder gods, and the defenders’ own efforts, the Well of Eternity had been torn asunder once too often.