William King - Illidan

He ended the spell of astral travel, and his spirit hurtled through the Twisting Nether and thundered back into his body. In front of his forehead, visible to his spectral senses, a rune floated. He knew its blaze mirrored the mark the naaru had left on him. Even as that realization hit him, the rune faded into invisibility, vanished as if the encounter had never happened.

He paused to recollect the meeting, using every trick of memory his sorcerer’s mind possessed. It had been real, he felt certain, and the vision the naaru had given him felt true. Of course, that meant nothing if the creature was playing games with his mind. But if it was powerful enough to do that…

One could go mad thinking about such things.

As he adjusted to being corporeal once more, he heard the banging on the door, audible even through the spells of warding and protection he had set. He spoke the words that unlocked the sanctum, and the door slid open to reveal his advisers standing there.

“Lord Illidan,” said High Nethermancer Zerevor. “You must come with us to see what is happening for yourself. The Black Temple is under attack.”

There was an urgency in his voice that kept Illidan from dismissing him out of hand. Illidan rose from his posture of meditation and moved to accompany them. It was only then that it occurred to him that one of his advisers was missing.

Where was Akama?

Maiev looked up to see Akama standing in the doorway of her cage once more.

“Have you come to dangle vain promises before me again?” she asked. It was difficult to keep the bitterness from her voice. Akama limped closer, tilted his head to one side, and gazed up into her face. Such was his intensity that she grew uncomfortable, although she refused to show it.

“No,” he said. His tone revealed both his weariness and his fear. “How are you feeling? Strong?”

“Let me out of this cage and I will show you.” Maiev had spent the previous months conserving her strength. She was sure she had never been mightier, but still the spells binding her held.

“Do you remember how to hold a blade?” Akama asked. Maiev was about to pour scorn on his head, but something in his manner stopped her.

“That is not something I could ever forget.”

“I hope so,” said Akama.

“Why are you here?”

“The Horde and the Alliance besiege the Temple of Karabor. They have made common cause with the Aldor and the Scryers. Even some of the naaru are present.”

There was a sense of finality. “Has the Betrayer sent you to kill me? Does he lack the courage to do it himself?”

Akama raised a stubby finger to his lips. The Ashtongue leader considered his words and, just for a moment, allowed himself the tiniest of smiles. “You are not that important to him. Even as his empire descends into fire and ruin, he appears more concerned with other things. Fortunately for you and for me.”

Maiev allowed herself to hope. She kept her features absolutely calm and cold. She did not want to give her enemies the satisfaction of seeing that they had gotten to her. “You think he will be brought down, then?”

“Who knows? Even now he is the mightiest being in Outland, surrounded by lieutenants of near-equal power. The temple is a fortress unparalleled in this world. He might hold out there for years. His enemies might fall out among themselves. I have known him for too long to think his downfall will be easy.”

“And yet you think he might be overthrown.”

“A small force of sufficient power could infiltrate the temple, if they were given the appropriate aid.”

“And of course you are in a position to give such aid. Forgive me if I have some trouble believing you. I seem to have heard a story like this before. Last time this tale did not turn out so well for me or those with me. Or your people, either, if my memory serves me correctly.”

Akama had the grace to look ashamed, but he still met her gaze. “This time, one way or another, there will be a different ending.”

“I do not believe you.”

“I can convince you.”

“How?” Maiev put all the scorn she could muster into her voice, but she could not help but feel hope rising in her breast.

“Stand back,” Akama said. He waited for her to do so and then invoked a powerful stream of magic. The locking spells fell away. Unable to quite believe what she was seeing, Maiev pushed the door of her cell. It swung open.

She was tempted to spring on Akama and wring his treacherous neck, but she was unarmed and he was still powerful. She did not doubt that he had bodyguards within call.

“If you are playing with me, ancient one, I will kill you.” The words escaped her lips before she could stop them.

“You might find that difficult to do without weapons and armor,” Akama said.

“I trust you are going to rectify that immediately.”

“You trust correctly. This time.”

Maiev pulled on her gauntlets, then raised her helm and placed it on her head as if it were a crown. A complex weave of protective magic sprang into being around her. She breathed a sigh of relief. She had power now, and she was not going to let herself be imprisoned again. This time, if it was a trap, she would force them to kill her.

Akama stood nearby in the guardroom, holding her umbra crescent. Maiev had noticed the demon corpses on the way. All that remained of her jailors were Ashtongue. The demons were dead. That was a pity. She would have liked to kill the abominations herself.

She held out her hand in an imperious gesture, demanding her weapon. Akama looked down at it, as if guessing what the first thing she would do when she got it in her hands would be.

“Are you frightened I am going to kill you?”

“I am frightened you are going to try.”

“And why should I not?”

“Because you are not stupid. Let us not play games with each other, Maiev Shadowsong. You are free because I have set you free. You can indulge a childish thirst for revenge or you can help me overthrow our true enemy.”

“I can do both.”

“No. You cannot. I alone can get you into the Temple of Karabor. I alone can guide you to the Betrayer. Decide now whom you wish to kill. Me or him. That is your choice.”

“Why should I believe you this time?”

“Because I am risking more than my life to free you. I am risking my soul and my people. I have kept you alive for a purpose, Maiev Shadowsong. I have hoarded your life as if it were my greatest treasure. Follow me this day and you will face Illidan and perhaps conquer him. Kill me and you can walk free, but you may never get another chance to slay the Betrayer. Which is it going to be?”

Without saying another word, Akama thrust the blade into her hand. He stood watchful and ready. Maiev felt the weight of the weapon. She turned it over and over. If any spells booby-trapped it, she could not see them. She was tempted for a moment to stab Akama in his treacherous heart, but she restrained herself.

“You may have your life. I will have justice from Illidan.”

“No,” said Akama. “You will have vengeance on him. I think that will give you more satisfaction.”

Illidan looked out from the battlements. A seething ocean of armored flesh broke against the walls of the Black Temple. Spells surged toward the defensive wards. Thousands of soldiers pressed forward to do battle with his demons.

He sensed the presence of more than just mortals down there. He discerned the pulsing of naaru. So much for the promises the elder naaru had made back on Argus. It looked as if only one of them had faith in his destiny. The beings down there were certainly against him.

Illidan shrugged his shoulders. His wings rose, emphasizing the gesture. “It matters not.”