He kept his voice low, as if even on his own property, he feared being overheard. If he thought it wise, Maiev decided that it was worth doing the same. “Yes.”
“You have a very small army for such a large undertaking.”
“Are you an expert in such things?”
“I was not always a fat old innkeeper. I have fought. But I have never set myself against such a mighty enemy as you have.”
“I have bested him before.”
“Yet he is free now and he has grown mighty. His agents lurk everywhere, in secret. There are always those who will tell tales for gold. I would be careful of to whom I spoke if I were you, and even more careful what I spoke of.”
“I will bear that in mind. I was told there are those here who might aid me. The naaru, for example.”
“They might, although I fear they have worries of their own.”
“Still, it would not hurt to ask.”
“That is so. She who does not ask, does not get, as they say.” The Broken did not sound particularly hopeful about the success of her mission, but perhaps that was just his manner. “The Born from Light might help one they deem worthy.”
“Born from Light?”
“The Sha’tar. That is what their name means. They are the naaru who were drawn to the ruins of Shattrath when they sensed the Aldor priests performing rites inside the rubble of one of their temples.”
“Arechron mentioned the Aldor.”
“As well he might. They are the servants of the naaru and of the Light. They are recruiting all they can find to oppose the Burning Legion. They would be grateful for any aid you could give them.”
“I have no doubt that theirs is a worthy goal, but I feel I can best serve the Light by overcoming Illidan. He is the greatest champion the Burning Legion has in Outland.”
“Is it not strange, then, that he seems to be at war with them?”
“It may be a deception. Or it may be a temporary disagreement. He has fallen out with his demonic overlords before, only to worm his way back into their favor.”
“You know a great deal about it.”
“I was his jailor for ten thousand years.”
“He must hate you.”
“And fear me, too, I hope.”
“I do not doubt it,” Alexius said.
“Can you arrange for me to see the naaru?”
“You can walk in and talk with them in the Terrace of Light. They will know you are here by now, and they will sense the power within you and give you a hearing.”
“Is it that simple?”
“For you it will be, of that I have no doubt. Your war against the new lord of Outland has not gone unremarked.”
“You said he has agents here. Would they be blood elves?”
“Perhaps, but I would not be too quick to rush to judgment if I were you. The sin’dorei here are sworn to protect the city. The Scryers look most unfavorably on those who aid your Betrayer. They betrayed him themselves.”
“Did they?”
“They were sent by Prince Kael’thas to lay waste to our city. A mighty force they were, the best and brightest of Kael’thas’s army, mighty magi and scholars. The Aldor braced themselves for defense, but the blood elves laid down their arms and asked for an audience with the naaru. It seems their leader, Voren’thal, had a vision. Only by serving the naaru would his people survive.”
“It might well have been a trick.”
“So many thought, but the naaru spoke with this Voren’thal and accepted his fealty. He and his people have served the city ever since.”
“A deception.”
“The naaru can see deep into the minds of those with whom they converse, and they are not easily deceived.”
“If any could do so, it would no doubt be Kael’thas. He is wily.”
“You speak with some bitterness.”
“I, too, once regarded him as an ally.”
“That is troubling. Nonetheless, the blood elves of the Scryer’s Tier would be the next faction I would suggest you seek aid from.”
Maiev felt her face redden. “I would rather seek aid from fel orcs.”
The Broken’s hand went to his mouth, and he stroked his drooping tendrils. “The enemy of my enemy…”
“You are not the first to suggest such a thing to me. But an alliance with the sin’dorei is a step too far.”
“That is a pity, for the Scryers are mighty sorcerers…”
Maiev’s fists clenched. The Broken realized his mistake. “I shall speak no more on the subject.”
“Perhaps that would be wise.” Maiev felt a brief sting of regret. She had nothing to gain by alienating the innkeeper. “I appreciate the aid you have given me. I am a stranger here, and a friendly guide is without price.”
“We are all strangers in this world, Maiev Shadowsong. We must help one another.”
“Is there anyone else who might help me?”
“There is Khadgar the archmage, a trusted ally of the naaru. I believe he is from your homeworld.”
“Tell me of him.”
“Tales swirl around this one, and it is difficult to get at the truth. He is a human. A few of them have found their way to Shattrath. Some say he is a hero who sacrificed himself to close the Dark Portal between Azeroth and Draenor. Others claim he was an apprentice of Medivh, the Guardian who was possessed by Sargeras.”
“That hardly seems like a recommendation to trust him.”
“The Sha’tar do.”
“I fear I cannot.”
“Then it is probably just as well that he is no longer in the city. The naaru have dispatched him to the Netherstorm—or so I have heard. To investigate some strange appearances there.”
“You are uncommonly well informed, Alexius.”
“I am an innkeeper. We hear things, particularly when we keep our ears to the ground.”
“I am glad that you have done so. Of course, I would be displeased to discover that you had been talking about my business with anyone else.”
Alexius looked wounded. “You were sent here by my cousin. It would be a betrayal of all the laws of kinship and hospitality for me to do so.”
“Of course. I just wanted to make sure we understood each other.”
“Now you sound like my cousin. I can see why he liked you.”
So this is the Terrace of Light, Maiev thought. It was impressive in its odd way. The air shimmered. Crystalline notes sounded. Huge glowing blue crystals descended from the roof of the vast circular chamber. The scent of incense twitched her nostrils. At the center, over a massive stone dais, hovered a glowing entity of enormous power. The naaru. Its shape shifted constantly from one geometric form to another, but it returned most often to an outline that resembled that of a star.
Hundreds of petitioners came and went, along with priestly servants who no doubt belonged to the Aldor. Robed blood elves, wearing the tabard of the Scryers, stared at her. They did not look hostile, but they did not look friendly, either. They seemed to be wondering what she was going to do.
She made her way through the crowd, studying her surroundings. Above her the giant domed roof of the terrace echoed back the sounds of prayers and petitions.
It was some time before she confronted the naaru. She was grateful. It gave her a chance to become accustomed to its awesome presence. A’dal shimmered like a chained sun. Unleashed, the naaru’s power might destroy cities or level mountains. The full blast of its attention focused on her when she stepped forward to greet it. It was all she could do to prevent herself from kneeling. She kept her head high and glanced straight into its light. Maiev felt as if the naaru was able to read her the way she might read an unfurled scroll. There was something about this being that made her feel like little more than a child.
“Greetings, Warden Shadowsong,” A’dal said. The naaru radiated serenity. Its calm, pleasant voice seemed to come from everywhere and nowhere at once. Perhaps it was speaking inside her mind. “I am A’dal.”