World of Warcraft: The Shattering: Prelude to Cataclysm Page 0,25

he would do. We have no proof whatsoever that he authorized this incursion, and—”

“No proof? Jaina, they were orcs! He’s an orc, and he’s supposed to lead the damned Horde!”

Her stomach was calm now, and she knew that she was in the right. “The Defias are humans,” Jaina said, very quietly. “Should you be held responsible for their actions?”

Varian jerked as if she had struck him. For a moment she thought she had reached him. The Defias were a deeply personal enemy and had taken a great deal from Varian. Then his brows drew together in a scowl that was made terrifying by the brutal scar across his face. He did not look like himself now.

He looked like Lo’Gosh.

“You dare recall that to me,” he growled softly.

“I do. Someone has to recall you to yourself.” She did not meet the anger of Lo’Gosh, the part of Varian that was cold and swift and violent, with anger of her own. She met it with the practicality that had saved her—and others—time and time again.

“You lead the kingdom of Stormwind—the most powerful in the Alliance. Thrall leads the Horde. You can make laws, and rules, and treaties, and so can he. And he is no more capable of controlling the actions of every single one of his citizens than you are. No one is.”

Lo’Gosh scowled. “What if you are wrong, Jaina? And what if I’m right? You’ve been known to be a poor judge of character in the past.”

Now it was Jaina’s turn to freeze, stunned, at the words. He was hurling Arthas back at her. That was how Lo’Gosh played, how he had won in gladiatorial combat—dirty, using every tool at his disposal in order to win at all costs. Her nightmare rushed back at her, and she pushed it away. She took a deep breath and composed herself.

“Many of us knew Arthas well, Varian. Including you. You lived with him for years. You didn’t see the monster he would become. Neither did his father, nor Uther.”

“No, I didn’t. But I’m not making the same mistake again, and you are. Tell me, Jaina, if you had seen what Arthas would become … would you have tried to stop him? Would you have had the guts to kill your lover, or would you have stood by, peace at all costs, a mewling little pacifist who—”

“Father!”

The word, uttered in a boyish tenor voice, cracked like a whip. Varian whirled.

Anduin stood in the doorway. His blue eyes were wide and his face was drained of color. But there was more than an expression of shock on his face. There was bitter disappointment. Before Jaina’s eyes, Varian changed. Gone was the coldly raging anger of Lo’Gosh. His posture shifted. He was Varian again.

“Anduin—” Varian’s voice, steady, but tinged with worry and a hint of regret.

“Save it,” Anduin said, disgusted. “You stay in here and—do whatever it was you were doing. I’ll go back out to provide the sort of royal face that lets our people know someone cares about what they’ve lost. Even if he is a mewling little pacifist.”

He turned on his heel and stalked toward the door. He gripped the doorframe for a moment. Jaina watched as his back straightened and he brushed at his hair, composing himself, putting on the face of calmness as he might put on his crown. He had had to grow up so quickly. The two Sentinels glanced at one another briefly. Varian stood for a moment, staring where his son had been. He sighed deeply.

“Jaina, why don’t you return as well?” At her look of uncertainty, he smiled a little. “Don’t worry. The Sentinels and I will talk reasonably about what’s to be done.”

Jaina nodded. “Afterward, though—a moment of your time?”

“Of course.” He turned back to the two elven females. “Now, you were saying. When did the attacks occur?”

The conversation continued in low voices. Varian was listening to all that was said, but he would not rush to anger again. Jaina turned and slipped quietly from the room. She did not, however, seek out the same pew at which she had been sitting. Instead, she hung toward the back of the cathedral, standing quietly in the shadows, watching and listening and doing what she did best … thinking.

SEVEN

An hour later, the service was over. She’d not really wanted to continue to attend. But as the ceremony continued, she realized that she needed to be here for at least two people. One of them was herself. Halfway through