World of Warcraft: The Shattering: Prelude to Cataclysm Page 0,128

He took a deep breath.

“This—” His voice broke, and he tried again. “This is grievous news. My heart breaks for the slain.” He looked at Geyah. “Today, I learned things from the Furies that I believe will help me aid Azeroth. I had hoped to leave in a few days, but now surely you understand that I must depart immediately.”

“Of course,” Geyah said at once. “We have already packed your things.”

He was both glad of this and not, as he had hoped to have a few moments to compose himself. Geyah, shrewd female that she was, realized this at once. “I am sure you will wish to take a few moments in meditation before you go,” she said, and Thrall seized upon the opportunity.

He strode outside Garadar a short way to a clump of trees. A small herd of wild talbuk eyed him, then with a flip of their tails galloped a short distance away to resume grazing in peace.

Thrall sat down hard, feeling a thousand years old. He was having difficulty absorbing the scope of the catastrophic news. Could it all really be true? The killing of the druids, of Cairne, of untold numbers of tauren at the very heart of their land? He felt almost dizzy and placed his head in his hands for a moment.

His mind went back to his last conversation with Cairne, and pain shot through his heart. To have exchanged such words with an old friend—and to have those words be the last thing Cairne had from him … this single death seemed to strike him harder than all the innocent lives lost as a result of Cairne’s murder. For murder it was. Not a fair death in the arena, but poisoned—

He jumped as he felt a hand on his shoulder and whirled to see Aggra sitting beside him. Anger stirred inside him and he snapped, “Have you come to gloat, Aggra? To tell me what a poor warchief I am? That my divided loyalties have cost the life of one of my dearest friends and those of countless innocents?”

Her brown eyes were unspeakably kind as she shook her head, remaining silent.

Thrall exhaled loudly and looked off to the horizon. “If you did, you would be saying nothing I have not already thought.”

“So I assumed. One doesn’t often need help in beating oneself up.” She spoke quietly, and Thrall suspected he was hearing the voice of experience. She hesitated, then said, “I was wrong to so sit in judgment of you. I apologize.”

He waved a hand. In light of what he had just heard, Aggra’s tart comments were the least of his worries. But she pressed on.

“When we first heard of you, I was excited. I was raised on stories of Durotan and Draka. I admired your mother in particular. I … I wanted to be like her. And when we heard of you, we all thought you would come home to Nagrand. But you stayed in Azeroth, even when we, the Mag’har, joined the Horde. Made alliances with strange beings. And … I felt betrayed that Draka’s son would forsake his people. You did come back. Once. But you did not stay. And I could not understand why.”

He listened, not interrupting.

“Then you came again. Wanting our knowledge, knowledge that was bought with such pain and effort—not to help the world that birthed our people, but to help this strange, alien place. I was angry. And so I was harsh to you. It was selfish and shallow of me.”

“What changed your mind?” he asked, curious.

She had been looking away, to the horizon, as he had been. Now she turned her face to his. The slanting afternoon light caught the strong planes of her brown, so very orcish face. And Thrall, used to finding harmony and pleasing beauty in the faces of human woman, as he had grown up among that race, was suddenly struck by hers.

“It was starting to happen before the vision quest,” she said quietly. “You had already begun to change my mind. You did not rise to the bait to be hooked like a fish. Neither did you use your influence with the Greatmother to replace me as your teacher. And the more I watched and listened to you, the more I realized … this truly does matter to you.

“I walked with you, and saw how you lived the elements, like a true shaman does. I saw, and I shared, your pain, and joy. I watched you with Taretha, with Drek’Thar,