World of Warcraft: The Shattering: Prelude to Cataclysm Page 0,119

her will be killed on sight if they trespass into tauren territory. That is sufficient vengeance. I am not going to waste time on revenge when my energy is better spent toward rebuilding.”

Garrosh nodded. He had learned all he needed to about the young Bloodhoof and was impressed.

“Then I offer you the full protection and support of the Horde, Baine Bloodhoof.”

“And in return for that protection and support, I offer the loyalty of the tauren people.” Baine said the words stiffly, but sincerely. Garrosh knew he could trust this tauren’s word.

He extended a hand. Baine took it in his three-fingered one, enveloping Garrosh’s completely.

“For the Horde,” Baine said quietly, although his voice trembled with emotion.

“For the Horde,” Garrosh replied.

THIRTY

It began as a thunderstorm.

Anduin had grown used to frequent, and sometimes violent, rainstorms in Theramore. But this one had thunder that rattled his teeth and shook him awake and lightning that completely illuminated his room. He bolted up in time to hear another crash of thunder and the sound of rain pounding so fiercely against his window that he thought the drops alone would shatter it.

He got out of bed and looked out—or tried to. Rain was sluicing down so heavily it was impossible to see. He turned his head, listening as the sound of voices in the hallways reached him. He frowned slightly and threw on some clothes, poking his head out to find out what the commotion was.

Jaina rushed past. Clearly she, too, had just awakened and tossed on clothing. Her eyes were clear, but her hair had not seen a comb yet.

“Aunt Jaina? What’s wrong?”

“Flooding,” Jaina replied succinctly.

For an instant Anduin was hurled back in time to the avalanche in Dun Morogh, to another instance of angry, distressed elements venting their rage upon the innocents. Aerin’s cheerful face swam into his mind, but he forced it aside.

“I’m coming.”

She drew breath, probably to protest, then gave him a strained smile and nodded. “All right.”

He took another minute to tug on his tallest boots and throw on a hooded cape, then he was racing outside along with Jaina and several servants and guards.

The rain and the whipping wind almost halted him in his tracks. It seemed to be coming sideways rather than straight down and took his breath away for a moment. Jaina, too, was having difficulty walking. She and the others stumbled almost as if drunk as they descended from the elevated tower to ground level.

Anduin knew there was a full moon, but the heavy clouds obscured any light it might have provided. The guards bore lanterns, but the illumination was feeble. Fire would have been no use whatsoever in the deluge. Anduin gasped when his feet sank ankle-deep in water so cold he could feel it even through his heavy but now sodden boots. His eyes were adjusting to the dimness, and he realized that the entire area was covered with water. It was not too deep—not yet.

Lights were on at the inn and the mill, and there was more shouting, barely heard over the tremendous pounding of the rain and thunder. The inn was on a slight hill, but the mill was now several inches deep in water.

“Lieutenant Aden!” Jaina cried, and a mounted soldier wheeled his steed and splashed toward her. “We’re opening the doors of the citadel to anyone who needs refuge. Bring them in!”

“Aye, my lady!” Aden shouted back. He yanked on the head of his horse and headed for the mill.

Jaina paused for a moment and lifted her hands to the sky, then moved her hands and fingers. Anduin couldn’t hear what she said, but her mouth was moving. A heartbeat later, he gasped as the image of a giant dragon head appeared beside her. It opened its jaws and breathed a sheet of flame across the water, evaporating a large patch. Of course, the water rushed in again to fill the void, but the dragon head seemed tireless. It continued to breathe fire, and Jaina nodded in satisfaction.

“To the docks!” she cried to Anduin, and he followed her, gamely running as fast as he could through the water. It grew deeper as the ground sloped downward. Up ahead, Anduin saw a sight that might have been humorous at any other time but now only contributed to the chaos: All the gryphons had flown to perch atop various buildings. Their wings and fur were drenched, and they cawed defiantly at the flight masters who were alternately railing at them and pleading with them