Maiev glanced around. Her troops were finishing off the ogres. She could not guess what foolishness had made the huge brutes ambush them. They had grown more and more aggressive toward travelers on the roads through Zangarmarsh in the past few months. It seemed they had forged an alliance with Vashj’s naga. Whatever spell engines the serpent folk were building neared completion. Maiev’s efforts to sabotage them had met with failure. All she had managed to do was free some Broken slaves, useless as recruits to her forces.
She counted fallen combatants. Two draenei corpses lay in the water, heads submerged in a way that told her they would not be getting up. Sarius had already begun healing the wounded. She felt the surge of druidic power as he set an arm broken by an ogre’s club.
Anyndra shook her head, sending drops of water splashing down into the murk. Maiev wiped sweat from her brow, then swatted a huge insect that had landed on the back of her hand. Its blood-bloated body burst, staining her hand crimson. By Elune, there were times when she hated those little monsters more than she hated those who abused magic.
“I think we have taught them not to attack us again,” Anyndra said. She studied the body of the fallen ogre. He must have weighed as much as ten elves even though he was only half again as tall. He was so broad as to seem almost squat, and a thick layer of fat overlaid his swollen muscles. Red and brown mingled in the water around him. A water-walking insect had its feet stained red. A large fish broke the surface and took it down in one gulp.
“They are too stupid to learn that lesson,” Maiev said. She squatted down and washed her hands in the water. She could not get them truly clean, but at least the blood came off. “No matter how many of them we kill, they will insist on fighting.”
“What do you think the naga are up to?” Anyndra asked. Maiev shook her head. Her lieutenant persisted in questioning her as if she had an answer for everything.
“I do not know. But if Illidan wants it done, we must see that it is not.”
Anyndra looked away as if the answer had disappointed her. Maiev wished she had a better one. She wished she could think of some way of taking the war to Illidan, but the Betrayer had not stirred from his fortress in the weeks since Akama had reported Kael’thas’s disappearance. No doubt Illidan felt vulnerable without the blood elf prince’s aid against the Burning Legion, but Kael’thas’s absence had not helped her cause any.
She pushed the thought away. It was too easy to give in to despair. She would find a way of bringing Illidan to justice. She just needed to keep trying and the way would open. She was a night elf, and she was used to thinking she had all the time in the world. Of course, since the devastation of the World Tree Nordrassil and the loss of the night elves’ immortality, that was no longer true, but old habits died hard.
A tingling sensation started at her right side. She stepped into a patch of shadow. She took the stone Akama had given her out of her pouch and focused her thoughts on it. The image of the leader of the Ashtongue appeared in her mind. The Broken looked even more shriveled with age. His eyes were tiny pinpricks. There were deep lines on his face that had not been there before.
“What is it?” Maiev asked, knowing her voice would be heard by no one but Akama and herself.
“Meet me in Orebor Harborage. Things move swiftly. The time for our vengeance has arrived.” Akama sounded tired and listless. His voice was feeble in a way she could not ever recall it sounding before. Perhaps something was interfering with the spell, she told herself. Perhaps it was just her imagination.
“What? How?”
“Meet me where we first met. I have much to tell you, and it is best we be prepared to move at an instant’s notice. Make sure your people are ready to fight.”
“What is going on?”
“I do not have time to explain. I must go, and go now. Meet me and be ready.”
Abruptly the contact was cut. Maiev wondered what was going on. Had the long-awaited hour finally arrived?
She put the stone away and stepped out into the light once again. “Mount up,” she said. “We are going to Orebor Harborage.”
Some of the troops groaned. They had been expecting a rest after the battle. The urgency of Akama’s summons was going to deny them that. Having a chance to capture the Betrayer, at long last, far outweighed their desire or any good they might do here destroying the naga’s spell engines.
“We ride,” Maiev said.
Her followers leapt into their saddles. They left the corpses of their foes behind them as food for the denizens of the great marsh.
Maiev paced impatiently inside the hut Akama maintained for their meetings in Orebor Harborage. Her troops watched her closely through the windows. They had learned to step warily when she was in this mood. Where was that damn Broken? He had communicated urgency, but now he could not even be bothered to show up.
She put her hands by her sides and smoothed the seam of her tabard. It did not do to reveal too much impatience in front of the troops. They looked to her for leadership. She slowed her stride, measured her pacing, and turned her thoughts inward.
It was not like Akama to be late. The Broken never missed a meeting. He usually turned up early for them. She hoped nothing had happened to him. It would mean the loss of a highly placed spy if the Betrayer had slain him for treason.
That would never happen. Akama had eluded Illidan’s gaze for years, and that spoke of a far greater-than-average ability to hide things. He had deceived even Illidan. All he had to do was continue to do so for a bit longer.
She thought about the strangeness of it all. Her strongest ally in Outland was a mutated aberration who served her greatest enemy. He had proved more reliable than any of the so-called leaders of the forces of Light. She told herself she should have more faith, but she struggled with that. It was not easy to let go of things, to pass control to someone else.
The air shimmered. A way opened. Akama stepped through. His shoulders were slumped and his eyes were downcast. His steps dragged even more than usual.
“Greetings,” he said. “I bring grave news.”
He looked up at her, and his eyes seemed sunken, their glow dimmed.
“Let us hope that it brings us a little closer to victory than your last tidings. Prince Kael’thas may be a deserter, but that has done us no good.”
Akama stumbled over to a table and poured himself a goblet of wine. He seemed to have aged significantly since the last time they had met. His hand shook as he put the jug down.
“You look as if you have seen better days,” Maiev said.
Akama shrugged and spread his arms wide. “The Betrayer has had me working magic day and night since last we spoke. It has drained me. His schemes come to a head. And I believe I know what he is up to.”
“Tell me!”
“Give me a moment,” the Broken said. He took out a small flask of magical elixir and stirred it into the wine. He raised the mixture to his lips and downed it in one gulp. Within heartbeats, he stood taller and some of the weariness faded from his frame. Maiev’s eyes narrowed. She had never seen him like this before. She had never suspected he needed unnatural stimulants to maintain his strength.
“Are you all right?”
Akama’s head bobbed slowly up and down. He seemed to want to reassure her but appeared incapable of it. His movements were still slow and pained. He looked as if he was very ill. Perhaps the strain of his long subterfuge was taking a toll on his health.
“The Betrayer has finally revealed his hand. He plans on opening a new gateway.”
“Can you be more specific than that?”
“I know only the rumors that I have heard around the temple. And I have managed to take a look around his sanctum, and I have found clues that he plans to perform some sort of mighty ritual.”