Illidan

16

Over everything lay the eerie glow of the Hand of Gul’dan. The mountain shivered like a whipped dog as the tremors of some yet-unborn earthquake rippled through its belly. Green lava spouted gigantic plumes in the lakes of burning stone visible on the lower slopes. All around, huge cables of magical power billowed.

Maiev thought the pre-shocks of this volcanic eruption were connected with the spell being woven. Akama was correct—a ritual of immense power was being enacted here. There could be no doubt of the awesome magnitude of the sorcery being worked.

A shower of greenly glowing meteors left a trail across the sky. They were an ominous portent, but of what, she could not tell.

Her people, the night elves at least, were shadows among shadows. They moved from rock to rock, silent as assassins come in the night to a king’s bedchamber. The draenei and the Broken did not move with the same stealth. They were too big, too clumsy, and too powerful.

Akama looked alert and uneasy, as well he might. To one with his sensitivity to the moods of the world, the shaking of the mountain must be very disturbing. She herself was profoundly perturbed. Scores of Ashtongue soldiers lay hidden over the nearby mountainside. Akama had brought a strong bodyguard with him.

Everything was as Akama predicted. Groups of thirteen sorcerers stood in circles, weaving the great spell. Some were blood elves. Some were naga. All were potent magi. Lines of magical power danced among them, linking them together. They chanted and gestured, and something answered their call. A few other robed Illidari surrounded them. They might have been bodyguards or servants, but there were fewer of them than there were sorcerers.

The covens were spread out over the mountain. Each of them represented a point in a great pattern, a focus of the energy being directed toward the central altar. As she looked down at it, a smile of triumph flickered on Maiev’s lips. The Betrayer himself was there, directing the operations, standing arrogantly at the altar. He wove the great spell like the master magician he was, shaping it into a swirling vortex of potency.

She paused to consider the magnitude of the gateway being opened. So much energy, all of it centered on this one spot. Either Illidan proposed summoning a being of truly awesome power, or the portal was intended to bridge a gap across an unimaginable distance.

Not that it mattered. He was not going to be given a chance to complete his spell. By now the rest of her squads should be in position. Sarius and his group were in place, ready to slay the sorcerers nearest to Illidan.

After that, justice would be done for all of the Betrayer’s victims. It would be done with her own sharp blade. She ran her finger along the edge and shivered, imagining it.

She glanced over at Akama once more. The Broken licked his lips and nodded. He knew as well as she did that it was time. She raised her armored hand and gave the signal to attack.

A roar sounded in the distance. A panther-like figure emerged from the shadows and leapt at the throat of a blood elf magician. The sin’dorei screamed and fell. The other sorcerers barely noticed. They were too wrapped up in the casting of spells.

Maiev had perfectly chosen the moment to attack. Even the Betrayer did not seem to notice them for an instant. Her draenei and Broken followers emerged from the rocks and charged downslope, brandishing their weapons, invoking powerful spells of offense and defense.

The few Illidari surrounding the clumps of sorcerers were taken off guard. Some managed to pull weapons free of their sheaths and form up in small groups, back-to-back. Maiev could only respect such bravery, even if she despised the cause they fought for.

Their courage would not make any difference. The numbers favored Maiev and her troops. She did not even need Akama’s followers. The Ashtongue lacked the hard competence of her own people. They had not been honed by months and years of guerrilla warfare in the wastes of Outland.

Maiev used her power to blink from her position and reappeared behind a naga sorcerer. Her blade licked out and slit the creature’s throat before she could react. A swift step took her within reach of another mage. She struck off the blood elf’s arm with one blow.

The air shivered. The pulse of magic briefly halted. The other magi redoubled their efforts. It was possible that the spell would run out of control if too many of them were killed. The backlash of such unleashed magic could be catastrophic.

Maiev did not care. As long as the spell destroyed Illidan, she would not consider her own death too high a price to pay. Of course, he might yet escape. He was as slippery as a serpent and had a talent for self-preservation equaled only by his talent for treachery.

She needed to make sure. Only if he died beneath her blade could she be absolutely certain that her purpose was achieved.

The altar lay ahead, and it looked as if, at last, the Betrayer was starting to pay attention to the attack. His warglaives spun in his hands, and he glanced around to see where the threat had come from.

Maiev sprinted toward him, hoping to get within range so that she could blink behind him and strike.

Illidan’s head swiveled to look directly at her. He raised his warglaives as he invoked powerful magic. The spell he wove seemed to have nothing to do with the ritual taking place around them.

A magical signal blazed.

Maiev sensed the sudden opening of the portals all around her. Gaps appeared in the fabric of reality. Clouds of mist billowed forth from them as differences in temperature and air pressure between the point of origin and the point of terminus manifested. The fog provided cover for the masses of reinforcements emerging through the portals.

Hundreds upon hundreds of naga slithered forth, along with companies of fel orcs. The gates appeared between the parties of magicians. In places, the emerging fighters smashed into Maiev’s own soldiers.

She saw that they needed to throw Illidan’s forces back through the gates before the superior numbers could be brought to bear. The portal mouths were not huge. A small number of troops could choke the exit points.

Maiev shouted orders, telling her soldiers to strike at the emerging Illidari. It was a stopgap measure. Sooner or later greater numbers would prevail. That was not the point. All they had to do was buy her time to reach Illidan and put an end to his evil career forever.

Even as her troops reacted, she realized that the Betrayer had taken her response into account. There were too many portals for her small force to close them all. Groups of Illidari emerged on the flanks of the swirling melee.

She lengthened her stride to try to reach the Betrayer, determined that if nothing else, she would be avenged. As if he knew what she was thinking and wanted to mock her, Illidan spread his wings and leapt into the sky.

Maiev sensed more magic being woven and looked around. Amid a court of powerful naga sorcerers stood Lady Vashj. The leader of the Illidari’s serpent folk lashed about her with potent spells. Maiev’s troops fell as if poleaxed.

The bitter taste of defeat filled Maiev’s mouth.

A massive fel orc leapt in front of her. His monstrous axe swept down. She ducked beneath it, rolled forward, and hamstrung the creature with her umbra crescent.

A phalanx of fel orc warriors charged at her. She tensed, ready to spring. A bolt of pure cold shivered through her body, shocking her to a stop. Lady Vashj had made contact with a spell. Howling maniacally, the fel orcs rushed in. Maiev tried to move her frozen muscles, but they refused to respond. She was going to die and Illidan was going to go free once more.

The fel orcs closed the distance with terrifying speed. Spittle drooped from the lips of one massive red-skinned creature as he raised his axe to take her head. Maiev refused to shut her eyes. An arrow whizzed out of nowhere and buried itself in the creature’s throat. Another one hit him on the shoulder and sent him twisting to the ground. More arrows rained down, killing more fel orcs. All of them had Anyndra’s green-and-red fletching. A fel orc tripped over the corpses of his comrades. A berserker leapt over the growing pile and closed the distance. Maiev managed to get her arm moving, attempted a parry. Too slow. Too slow.

The great hunting cat that was Sarius leapt in from the side, caught the berserk fel orc’s arm, twisted his weight to overbalance him, and gouged him with his claws. Reddish-black rents appeared in the fel orc’s neck. Blood spurted. More fel orcs piled onto the druid, determined to bring him down. Sarius rose, this time wearing the form of a bear, shifting the enormous weight of the fel orc warriors. Their blades hacked his fur, drawing blood, but magic surged around the druid to close his wounds.

Maiev felt a hand on her shoulder. She turned her head to see Anyndra’s appalled face. “We have got to get out of here!” her second-in-command bellowed. Her voice was already hoarse from shouting orders above the clamor of battle.

Not many of Maiev’s troops remained: a handful of her draenei and Broken fighters, and Anyndra and Sarius. The gates were fully open now. Fel orc after fel orc and naga after naga poured through. This was more than a force of bodyguards. It was an army.

For a moment she considered flight. She could order her troops to run and fight another day, but she might never get another chance like this. She must kill the Betrayer this day. Even if it meant giving up her life and the lives of all her companions, it would be a price worth paying.

A monstrous shadow fell on her. Looking up, she saw Illidan swoop overhead, his great wings spread. His eerie laughter echoed out over the battlefield, audible even over the ring of blade on blade, the war cries of the Broken, and the howls of the fel orcs.

Magical energy surged around her as the blood elf and naga spellcasters returned to their interrupted ritual. Black spheres swirled above the battlefield. Long tentacles of darkness reached down and touched the wounded and the dying. Where they did so, the victims screamed and aged years in heartbeats, as if all their life force was being drawn out of them. Black sparks emerged from their bodies and were sucked upward into the unholy spheres. Maiev realized that their very souls were being devoured.

Not even the souls of the dead were safe. When the tentacles touched a corpse, leather armor would grow tattered, chain mail and bright blades would tarnish and rust, and a spirit would come forth as black sparks to suffer the same fate as all the others.

With every soul absorbed, the spheres grew larger and darker. Bolts of black lightning danced among them, forming great chains of energy. A shimmering hole appeared in the air over the altar, feeding on the souls of the fallen.

Maiev looked around for Akama and saw him farther upslope, standing appalled as he watched the massive spell take effect. She hacked her way toward him. Had he known about this trap? Anyndra fought calmly at her side. The massive bear that was Sarius lumbered along, dragging half a dozen screaming fel orcs with him. The druid bled from a score of cuts, his magic unable to compensate for all his wounds.

Maiev looked on hundreds of corpses. Most of them were draenei; some of them were night elves or Broken. Far too few were fel orcs, naga, or blood elves. It came to Maiev that many of the dead were Ashtongue. Akama stood atop a boulder, shouting, “This slaughter was not part of the plan! You said we were supposed to capture Maiev!”

So all of this had been a scheme concocted by Illidan and the treacherous Broken. The thought filled Maiev with rage.

Magically amplified, Illidan’s mad voice boomed over the battlefield. “Ah, we will capture Maiev, Akama. But there are other things that need to be done this day.”

He sounded truly demonic.

Akama screamed and raised his fist. Chained lightning circled his fingers, and he looked for a moment as if he was considering hurling it at Illidan. Then he noticed how close Maiev was. He gestured. The air shimmered around him and he was gone.

“Head for that rise!” Maiev shouted. “We will make our stand there.”

Anyndra nodded; then her eyes went wide with shock. An orcish blade protruded from her chest. Blood poured from her mouth. A muscular red arm went around her throat. There was a cracking sound and her neck broke. She fell forward.

Sarius’s roar of grief and rage vibrated through the air. It echoed through the chasms around them and just for a moment drowned out the thunder of the volcano. He hurled himself forward, shaking off the clutching fel orcs, and caught Anyndra’s killer with his jaws. He reared up on his haunches and shook the slayer like a terrier would a rat. The fel orc’s neck broke in turn.

Spells burst around the huge bear. His movements slowed. Fel orc after fel orc struck him, drawing blood. More and more charged him. Even his strength had limits, and he was pulled down and hacked to pieces.

Berserk fury overcame Maiev. She sprang into the midst of the fel orcs and chopped her way through them, slashing with her blade. She beheaded one, lopped away the arm of another, and opened the guts of a third. A red haze filled the air around her. Even the fel orcs grew afraid of her fury as she built a mountain of corpses around herself. Then one of them, braver than the rest, threw himself back into the fray, and the army descended upon her. She chopped and chopped until her arm grew weary. She bled from a thousand cuts. She knew she was going to die, and if she could not get the Betrayer, she was going to drag as many of his henchmen down with her as she could.

Blinded by weariness and the blood and sweat dripping down her face, she still lashed out. Her limbs felt like jelly. All strength was gone. She found herself standing alone in a circle of the dead. The fel orcs looked upon her with awe. She had killed scores of them, and it wasn’t enough. It would never be enough.

Overhead, black lightning flickered, moving from sphere to sphere as more of the souls of the dead and the dying were devoured. Maiev realized to her horror that all she had done was aid Illidan in the casting of his spell. It fed upon the souls of her victims and used the unleashed energy to crack a hole in the fabric of reality. It was growing cold now, and a wind howled in from the edge of infinity. Illidan hovered over the carnage, looking down in triumph, wings spread, an aura of evil power surrounding him. His gaze met Maiev’s. He gestured. Dark energy descended from his fist like the spear of an angry god.

Agony lanced through her. She stumbled and fell.

The fel orcs advanced toward her recumbent body. She struggled to rise but strength failed her. She heard the beat of mighty wings and looked up to see Illidan staring down at her. A smile of hatred and malice twisted his narrow features.

“So, Maiev, now you are my prisoner. I will endeavor to see that your captivity is as enjoyable as mine was.” He turned his head and barked an order to the fel orcs. She pushed against the ground, attempting to rise and strike him. His fist fell like a sledgehammer, battering her to the earth once more.

“I have business elsewhere,” he said. “But something suitable has already been prepared for your future home. It is a cage that will hold even you, Warden.”