William King: Illidan

“I did not come here to purchase a dwelling. I came here seeking an ally.”

Akama looked up at her. “You are not the first of your kind to tell me that.”

“Illidan is not of my kind. He forfeited any claim to be a night elf long ago, when he first made his pact with the Burning Legion.”

“And yet once he was a great hero of your people, to hear him tell it.”

“To hear him tell it. I could tell you differently.”

They passed the boundary posts of the village and arrived at the edge of a vast, calm-looking lake. Small islands dotted the water. Massive buzzing insects flitted over the surface. Akama came to a halt beside a small, motionless pool. The water was clearer here. Still, a faint freckling of spores floated on the surface. Shadowy shapes moved in the depths.

“And I would most probably believe you,” Akama said. He gestured toward a chipped stone bench that overlooked the lake. “Please be seated.”

Maiev remained standing. Pointedly she placed her hand on the hilt of her weapon.

Akama’s grimace might have been intended to be a smile, but it showed his menacing fangs. “No one intends you harm here, but as you wish. Let us talk about the Betrayer.”

Maiev had been waiting for this opening. “He is a being of great and cosmic evil. Long ago, more than ten thousand years as we measure time on Azeroth, he betrayed us to the Burning Legion. For ten thousand years, I stood watch over him to make him pay for his crimes. In the end, through the murderous treachery of one who should have known better, he escaped my vigilance and fled my wrath to this place. He is a terrible sorcerer, steeped in wickedness you cannot—”

Akama raised one hand, palm outward. “I know all this. I have talked with him, fought alongside him…”

Maiev glanced around, half expecting at any moment to see naga emerge from the water or blood elves erupt from the undergrowth. There was nothing.

Akama tilted his head to one side and watched her as if her behavior was curious. If she had not known better, she would have thought he was amused.

“Why do you serve the Betrayer?” Maiev asked. She could not keep the anger out of her voice. The sight of her wrath had made demons tremble, but Akama merely shrugged.

“Because he offered to help my people free the Temple of Karabor. He was the enemy of my enemy.”

Maiev glared into his alien eyes. Akama looked down at his interlocked fingers and let out a long sigh.

“And that is no longer the case?” Maiev said.

“He has made no move to return the temple to my people, and we took it more than a month ago. I have my doubts as to whether he ever will. I fear we have removed our former conqueror, Magtheridon, only to put something worse in the pit lord’s place. Illidan has made a new pact with the demon lord Kil’jaeden. He has agreed to destroy the Frozen Throne for him. It seems the Burning Legion still holds our sacred site. It just has a new leader.”

“And you feel I may be the enemy of your enemy.”

Akama nodded. “You imprisoned him. He hates you and, unless I miss my guess, he fears you. You have great power. I can sense that myself.”

Maiev’s smile flickered, thin and cold as a waning crescent moon. “He is right to fear me. I will see him bound once more, or dead.”

“I thought such might prove to be the case.” The Broken turned his head and studied the waters as if he expected them to reveal some great truth. His voice was flat and emotionless.

“And would such a turn of events be acceptable to you, too?” Maiev asked. She already knew the answer. This Broken might pose as a holy sage, but he was treacherous. The fact that he had served the Betrayer and yet was here now proved that. She could find a use for him. To use his words, he was the enemy of her enemy.

“If there is no other way of regaining the sacred ground…” Akama took a wheezing breath, unclasped his hands, and looked back at her. “I spent my youth in the temple. It was…It is a holy place. I would not see it desecrated again.”

Maiev considered this. Akama seemed to be talking as much to himself as to her. There was pain in his voice, and a real sense of loss. “So what do you plan on doing?”

“At the moment, there is nothing we can do.”

“What?” Maiev could not keep the shock from her voice. Her knuckles went white on the hilt of her blade. She had come here expecting either an ambush or a potential ally. Her soul cried out for action. How could this pitiful ancient sit there with Illidan loose?

“Illidan is too strong. He is backed by Prince Kael’thas and Lady Vashj. I believe you have already met them. To your cost.”

“I do not fear them.”

“Perhaps you should.”

“It is not for you to tell me whom I should or should not fear.”

Akama made a small, apologetic gesture with his left hand. “I can see that.”

“Did you come here to beg for my aid and then cringe in these ruins?” Perhaps he was unimpressed by the size of her force. Perhaps he did not believe she was capable of capturing Illidan. Perhaps he had judged her and found her wanting. “You ask for my aid and yet you offer me nothing.”

“You elves—how can you live so long and learn so little of patience? There is a time for everything, and a place. The best revenge is not hurried.”

“I do not seek revenge. I seek justice.”

“Yes, I can see you believe that.” This time she was certain there was mockery in his voice. Akama turned to look into the distance once more. Something large broke the surface and splashed back down into the water again. One of the big insects vanished with it. “They can wait for days, those snappers. Immobile. Torpid. You would never think them a threat. But let prey come within reach, and they strike. Their jaws can take an arm off.”

“You plan on imitating some fish?”

“It is an eel.”

“I did not come here for a lesson in piscine taxonomy.”

“But you came here for something.”

“How can I help you when you will not help me?”

“When the time is right, I will give you all the help you need. But I will not have my people needlessly slaughtered because of your recklessness.”

Maiev unclenched her fingers from her weapon. She put her hands by her sides and then flexed them. She took a deep breath and sought inner stillness. Slowly her fury diminished. “Very well. At least tell me what he is doing now.”

“He is taking Magtheridon to Hellfire Citadel.”

“Why?”

Akama shrugged. “He does not tell me everything.”

“Perhaps because he does not trust you.”

“Perhaps he has reason.” The Broken fumbled within a pouch hanging from his waist. He produced a small, rough-looking stone inscribed with strange runes. He held it out to Maiev in the flat of his palm. She looked at it but made no attempt to take it. She could sense magic in it. It did not have the foulness of fel sorcery or the wickedness of arcane magic. As far as she could tell.

“Through this I will contact you when I have something worth telling. I carry its twin.” The stone still lay on his outstretched palm. “Of course, if you are afraid to take it, we can find another way…”

Maiev snatched the stone from his hand. The presence of magic tingled against her gauntlet. Nothing terrible happened. “As you wish.”

Akama made a small bow. “I can see why he fears you. You are very much alike.”

Akama walked away, leaving Maiev to stare at her reflection in the dark mirror of the lake. Her image glared back at her, a picture of frustrated fury. She stooped, picked up a pebble, and lobbed it into the water, smashing her likeness into ripples.

Slowly Maiev and her Watchers crept over the warm rocks. The blazing sun of Hellfire Peninsula sent long shadows sweeping away from the large boulders. It had been a lengthy ride back from Zangarmarsh, made at great speed, but it would be worth all the saddle sores if she caught Illidan unawares. She did not need Akama. All she needed was the opportunity to strike at the Betrayer when he least expected it.