“I think you do what you believe is right.”
Maiev frowned at that hairsplitting distinction. “What I do is right.”
“No doubt. No doubt.”
“You will not aid me?”
“At this moment, I cannot.”
“Cannot or will not?”
“There are other struggles than your own, Warden Shadowsong. Some of them are more important.”
“Nothing is more important than the overthrow of Illidan.”
“Perhaps to you. We Aldor have different priorities and limited resources. We need time to gather our strength.”
Frustration filled the warden. Why was it so difficult to get the people of Outland to see the importance of her mission? She felt a tingling against her breast. It was from the stone Akama had given her. This was not the usual time they had set for their meetings. Something urgent must have come up. Perhaps it was just as well. She did not want to continue this fruitless circular argument with Ishanah anyway.
“I thank you for your time,” Maiev said, “and ask your permission to depart.”
Without waiting for it, she turned and strode back to the elevator, followed by Anyndra.
She needed a quiet place to communicate with Akama. She hoped that he would prove less useless than the Aldor.
The streets of Shattrath’s lower terrace seemed more crowded every day. More and more refugees flooded into the city, fleeing from Illidan’s wars of conquest and the aftermath of his losing battles with the Legion. They seemed determined to place themselves under the protection of the Sha’tar.
Maiev glanced over her shoulder. A blood elf hurried through the street behind her, face cowled, a scarf wound over her lower jaw. There was something in her manner that was familiar. Perhaps she was spying on Maiev. It did not matter. Sarius was out there in the crowd, watching her back. Perhaps sometime, she would order him to capture one of those who dogged her steps. At the moment, she had other matters to consider.
She stepped into the courtyard of the Refuge of the Broken. The usual wretches looked up from their sour watered wine, or stared at the ceiling in a numbed stupor. The air stank of the rough tobacco they smoked. It reeked of their unwashed bodies. She made her way to the chamber in which she had previously met with Akama, and she was unsurprised to find him there. Two of the Ashtongue guards who had watched over him before minded the door and let her pass without comment.
The Broken rose and bowed to her in greeting. At least he showed her some respect. Over the last few years, they had reached an understanding of sorts. She inclined her head regally in acknowledgment.
“What news?” Maiev asked. She hoped it was better than their last meeting, which had concerned only some minor victory in Illidan’s war against the Legion.
“Great news,” Akama said. The excitement in his voice communicated itself to her. “Prince Kael’thas is missing, along with some of his army. It is likely that he has abandoned the Betrayer.”
Maiev could not keep the smile of triumph from her face. “If that is true, then Illidan has lost one of the great props to his power.” She let the words hang in the air. In the past, Akama had refused to commit his people because Illidan was supported by Kael’thas and Lady Vashj.
Akama’s smile matched her own only for a moment. “Illidan may have found a new source of power.”
A chill of foreboding passed through Maiev. Perhaps the Betrayer had a trick to play yet. It would not be the first time. “What is it?”
“I am not certain, which is why I wanted to talk to you. They are recruited entirely from your people…”
“My people?”
“Elves. Desperate, ruthless elves, hardened fighters all, and all with a grudge against the Burning Legion, as far as I can tell. He takes them and he kills them.”
“What?”
“He infuses them with fel magic. Most of them die during the process, and those who live are changed, and not for the better.”
“What do you mean?”
“Their bodies are saturated with evil power, and there is something in them that reeks of the demonic.”
Horror twisted Maiev’s face. “He is transforming elves into demons.”
“Unless I miss my guess, he is remaking them in his own image. He works rituals upon them. He supervises as they receive tattoos like his. He teaches them magic, or at least so I gather from the rumors picked up by my agents. All of this takes place in sealed courtyards far from the everyday business of the temple.”
What new monstrousness is Illidan planning? Maiev wondered. Knowing him, it could not be anything good. “You must find out more of this.”
“I am doing my best, but it is difficult and dangerous. The Betrayer has taken great pains to hide his intentions for this new army. If I ask too many questions, I may be found out. If Illidan learns of our association, I am worse than dead. I must move cautiously.”
“Cautiously, cautiously, it is always cautiously with you.”
“That is easy for you to say. I am the one who will face the wrath of the Betrayer if things go wrong.” Akama paused and took a rasping breath. “You do not know what it is like. Every time I leave the Temple of Karabor, I must lie. I think already Illidan suspects something…I feel as if I am being watched.”
It came to Maiev that in her impatience, she was in danger of taking the wrong tack. Akama was clearly frightened, and not without good reason.
Akama took another deep breath and spoke in a more measured tone. “It is not the first time tattooed fighters have appeared around the temple. There have been others like this before, but only seen in ones or twos, and never for long before they went on their way. This time all of them are here, and he seems bent on creating many more like them.”
“The first of them could have been experiments, intended to test the magic used in creating these demon elves.”
“Such was my thought. Now there seem to be many more of them. Illidan spends lives like a drunken mercenary squanders ill-gotten silver in order to create them. For every ten who go into the hidden courts, perhaps one comes out.”
This news changed Maiev’s mood. Her earlier good humor about Kael’thas’s disappearance had evaporated. She knew in her heart of hearts that Illidan planned some new deviltry.
“I do not like this at all,” Maiev said.
Akama shrugged. “These new creatures are powerful. I have been called upon to heal them, and I sense strong, dark magic within them. Perhaps Illidan feels they will tip the scales back in his favor.”
“Do you think that is possible?”
“He seems determined to create hundreds of these creatures, if not thousands. If they are all as mighty as the ones I have seen, they could change the balance of power in Outland. All I know is that the Betrayer is in a frenzy to recruit as many of them as possible. I have sensed that he has a purpose in mind, and whatever it is, time is running out.”
“Time is certainly running out for him,” Maiev said, trying to re-create her earlier mood. “Without Kael’thas’s support, there is a chance to unseat him.”
“Indeed,” said Akama. “I will return to the Temple of Karabor and begin preparations. If we are to move, we must move quickly, before his new army is ready.”
Satisfaction filled Maiev’s mind. It was the first time the Broken had expressed a definite commitment to action. It seemed that he, just as much as the Betrayer, felt time was getting short.
Akama passed through the portal and stepped into the Temple of Karabor. Despite all the corruption about him, it still felt like coming home. He rubbed his hands together, took a deep breath, and tried to push his worries away.
Confronting Maiev was always nerve racking. She was so full of rage and hate, and she was so determined to take Illidan to task for all his wrongdoing. She really did not seem to realize that she had turned herself into the Betrayer’s mirror image.
The Broken hurried through the corridors toward his chambers. One of the abominable eyeless soldiers glanced at him as he passed. It was eerie how those blind-seeming heads turned to track him as he went by.