The Sundering (48 page)

Malfurion kissed her back, but as he did, another’s face intruded into his thoughts. There would be a period of rejoicing, of spreading the word concerning the Aspects’ gifts to their people, but for Malfurion, those events suddenly mattered little. There was still Illidan to deal with.

Tyrande pulled away, her mouth twisted into a frown.
“
I know what it is that suddenly fills you with sorrow. What must be done must be done, Malfurion, but don’t let his crimes steal your heart away.
”

He took strength from her words.
“
I won’t. I promise you, I won’t.
”

Over her shoulder, Malfurion noticed Krasus and Rhonin quietly retreating from the gathering. He glanced at the dragons and saw that Nozdormu was also missing. Just like that. Somehow, the Aspect had simply vanished without anyone noticing.

There had to be a connection.
“
Malfurion, what is it now?
”

“Come with me, Tyrande, while no one’s looking.
”

She did not argue. The two night elves followed after Krasus and the wizard.

The voice echoed in Krasus’s head. It hasss been delayed far too long. It mussst be done now.

Nozdormu.
“
Rhonin—”

The human nodded.
“
I heard him.
”

They slipped out while the night elves were still babbling over the tree. Krasus would have liked to have spoken with Malfurion a little more, but the mage was eager to return home.

Before the ceremony, Nozdormu had come to him. The Aspect of Time had caught Krasus alone.
“
We owe you a debt, Korialstrasz.
”

By
“
we,
”
Nozdormu did not just mean the other Aspects and him. He referred also to his various selves spread through Time itself. Such was his unique nature.

“I did what had to be done. Rhonin—and Brox—too.
”

“I alssso speak to the wizard at this very moment,” the Aspect had commented offhandedly. It was nothing for him to be in two places at the same time, if he so desired. “I tell him, asss I tell you, that I will sssee to it that you reach home.”

Krasus had been very grateful. It had pained him to still be around an Alexstrasza who did not know the fate to befall her and the other dragons.
“
I am—thank you.
”

The bronze giant had given him a solemn look.
“
I know what you hide from her, from usss. It is my fate and curssse to know such things and be unable myssself to prevent them. Know that I now asssk for forgiveness for the wrongs I will caussse you in the future, but I mussst be what I am destined to be
…
as Malygos is.
”

“Malygos!” Krasus had blurted, thinking of the eggs secreted in the pocket dimension. “Nozdormu—”

“I know what you did. Give them over to me and I will pass them to Alexstrasza. When Malygosss is well enough, he will be presssented with the young. Compared to all elssse that has happened, it isss a sssmall change to the time line and one of which I approve. The bluesss will fly the skies again, even though their numberss will not be great even after ten thousand yearsss. But better sssome, than none.”

Krasus had also wished to see his beloved queen once more, but it had been agreed that he might let slip something even she should not know. Now, though, as he and Rhonin stood ready for the bronze dragon’s reappearance, the mage regretted not having sought her out, anyway.

Rhonin studied him.
“
You could still run to her. I’d understand.
”

The gaunt figure shook his head.
“
We have twisted the future enough. What will be will be.
”

“Hmmph. You’re stronger than I am.
”

“No, Rhonin,” Krasus muttered with a shake of his head. “Not in the least.”

“Are you prepared?” Nozdormu suddenly asked.

They turned to find the Aspect waiting patiently.

“How long have you been there?” snapped the cowled spellcaster.

“Asss long as I chose to be.” Foregoing any other answer, Nozdormu spread his wings. “Climb atop. I will take you to your proper period in the future.”

Rhonin looked dubious.
“
Just like that?
”

“When the lassst of the Well devoured itself, the Old Gods were again sssealed away. Their reach into the river of Time vanished with it. The tearsss in the fabric of reality vanished. The way forward is now sssimple enough…for me.”

From the ground, Rhonin lifted up Brox’s ax.
“
What isss that doing here?
”
asked the Aspect.

Both spellcasters looked defiant.
“
It comes with us,
”
Krasus insisted.
“
Or we stay here and meddle more.
”

“Then, by all means, bring it with.”

They mounted quickly, but as they did, Krasus spied a pair of forms hiding in the woods. He sensed immediately who they were.

“Nozdormu—”

“Yesss, yesss, the druid and the priestess. I’ve known all along. Ssstep out and say your farewellsss, then! We must be gone!
”

Although the Aspect took their appearance in stride, Krasus felt far less comfortable.
“
You two heard—”

“We heard all,” interjected Malfurion. “Not that we understand all.
”

The mage nodded.
“
We could say little and still cannot say more. Just know this, the two of you. We shall meet again.
”

“Our people will survive?” asked Tyrande.

The mage calculated his words before speaking.
“
Yes, and the world will be the better for it. And with that, I say goodbye.
”

Rhonin raised Brox’s ax, echoing Krasus’s farewell.

Nozdormu stretched his wings again. The night elves immediately backed away. They raised hands toward the pair.

But before they could
…
both the dragon and his riders simply vanished.

R
honin awoke to find himself lying in a field of grass. At first, he feared that something had gone awry, but then, as he sat up, a familiar and very welcome sight greeted his eyes.

A house. His house.

He was home.

More important, he sighted Jalia, the townswoman who had been taking care of Vereesa during her pregnancy. She seemed in a fair state, anxious but cheerful. Rhonin unsucessfully tried to calculate the time passing since he had vanished. He wondered how old the babies would be by now.

Then, to his horror, he heard Vereesa cry out,
“
Jalia! Come!
”

Without hesitation, he leapt to his feet and followed after the woman. For a full-bodied person, Jalia moved quickly. She raced through the doorway, even as Vereesa called out again.

The wizard burst through the door a few moments later, hand already up in preparation to defend his bride and children. He looked around, expecting a home ransacked or burnt, but found everything in place.

“Vereesa? Vereesa?”

“Rhonin! Praise the Sunwell! Rhonin, in here!”

He ran toward the bedroom, fearful of what he would find. A moan set the hair on his neck standing.

“Vereesa!” Rhonin barged inside. “The twins! Are they—”

“They’re coming!
”

He stared wide-eyed. His wife lay in the bed, still very much pregnant
…
but not for long.

“How—” he began, but Jalia shoved him aside.

“If you don’t know how, then you’d best just stand back and let her and me handle it, Master Rhonin!
”

The wizard knew better than to argue. He fell back against the wall, ready to be of any help should the need arrive, but saw quickly that Vereesa and Jalia had things well in hand.

“The first one’s coming,
”
Vereesa announced.

As he watched and waited, Rhonin thought of all the astounding events he had recently been a part of. He had passed through time, survived the first coming of the Burning Legion, and had aided in the effort to save the world and the future.

But none of that, he discovered, was as miraculous as what he was a part of now
…
and for that he gave thanks that he and the others had succeeded.

And in that time so long ago, Jarod Shadowsong presided over a gathering far more dour than the one on the island. Those who now represented the leaders of the host—and their allies, too—stood ready to hear judgment.

Soldiers prodded along the one on trial. His mouth was wrapped shut with a cloth but bonds of metal now kept his arms behind him and his hands from gesturing. Invisible spells cast by Malfurion and others ensured that there would be no repeat of the terrible incident at the lake.

When he stood in the center of the circle that his accusers had formed, Illidan, monstrous eyes scarved, stared arrogantly at the figure before him. One of the soldiers cautiously removed the gag.

“Illidan Stormrage,” began Jarod, sounding nothing like the simple Guard captain he had once been. “Many are the times you fought valiantly alongside others against the evil encroaching on our world, but, sadly, too many are the times you’ve proven yourself a danger to your own people!
”

“A danger? I’m the only one who sees honestly! I was planning for our future! I was saving our race! I—”

“Attacked those who disagreed with you—slaying many—and recreated what should have been best forgotten!
”

Illidan spat.
“
You’ll all be praying to me as if I were a god when the demons return! I know how they think, how they act! Next time, they won’t be cast out! You’ll need to fight them as they fight! Only I have that knowledge—”

“Such knowledge, we’re better without.
”
Jarod looked around, as if seeking someone. When he apparently did not find that person, the leader of the night elves sighed and continued,
“
Illidan Stormrage, as it falls to me, I can think of only one thing to do with you! It pains me, but I hereby declare that you shall be put to death—”

“How original,
”
sneered the sorcerer.

“Put to death in a manner—”

“Jarod…forgive me for being late,” interrupted a figure behind Illidan. “May I still speak?”

The armored night elf nodded almost gratefully.
“
This is yours to decide as much as it’s mine.
”

Malfurion walked around his brother. Illidan’s face followed him as the druid stepped between the sorcerer and the soldier.
“
I’m sorry, Illidan.
”

“Ha!”

“What is it you want to say, Master Malfurion?” urged Jarod.

“There is some truth in what my brother says about the Burning Legion, Jarod. They may come again.”

“And you want us therefore to forget his crimes and his danger?”

The druid shook his antlered head.
“
No.
”
He glanced at his twin, the other half of him, then briefly at Tyrande, who stood at the edge of the circle with Maiev and Shandris. She had stayed with him all the while he had suffered through what should be done. The high priestess supported his decision, not that it eased his ache.

“No, Jarod,” Malfurion repeated, steeling himself. “No. I want you to imprison him…even if it means he stays so for ten thousand years…if necessary…”

As the rest of those assembled suddenly broke out into startled muttering, Malfurion closed his eyes and tried to calm himself. He had his suspicions concerning the future, knowing as he did now about Krasus and Rhonin. The druid prayed he had made the right decision.

But only the future would tell
…

And, lastly
…

Thrall had not heard from the two he had sent to the mountains to investigate the shaman’s vision. They might still be searching, but the orc leader had the suspicion that the truth was far worse. No good ruler, not even of his race, liked to send loyal warriors to their death without something coming from it.