World of Warcraft: The Shattering: Prelude to Cataclysm Page 0,33

what you see, Thrall, and I, too, worry that history will repeat itself.”

They had emerged from the shadows of the swamplands and onto the road heading north. Heat from the baking sun seared them. Thrall glanced around at the place so aptly named the Barrens. It was drier than ever, browner than ever, and he saw few signs of life. The oases, the salvation of the Barrens, had begun drying up as mysteriously as they had appeared.

“I cannot recall the last time I felt rain on my face in Durotar,” Thrall said. “The silence of the elements at this time when something is clearly so very wrong …” He shook his head. “I remember the awe and joy with which Drek’Thar pronounced me a shaman. And yet, I hear nothing.”

“Perhaps their voices are being drowned out by these others you are listening to,” Eitrigg offered. “Sometimes, in order to solve many problems, you must focus on only one for a time.”

Thrall considered the words. They struck him as wisdom. So much could be eased if he understood what was wrong with this land and was able to help heal it. His people would eat, would have shelter again. They would not feel the need to take from those who already had bitterness and hate in their hearts. Tensions would be eased between the Horde and the Alliance. And maybe then Thrall could focus on, as Eitrigg had said, his own legacy, his own peace and contentment.

And he knew exactly where to go to listen.

“I have been to the land of my father only once,” he told the elder orc. “I wonder if now another journey is in order. Draenor was a world that saw more than its fair share of elemental pain and violence. What it is now—Outland—could still remember that. My grandmother, Geyah, is a powerful shaman. She could guide me as I attempt to listen to the wounded elements there. And perhaps they have some knowledge bought from the pain of their own world that could help ease Azeroth.”

Eitrigg grunted, but Thrall knew him well enough to know the gleam in the other’s eyes was that of approval.

“Sooner you do that, sooner you’ll have a little one to dandle on your knee,” he said. “When do you leave?”

Thrall, his heart lightened by the decision, laughed.

NINE

Jaina rowed steadily, deep in thought. Something was troubling Thrall. Something more than the current situation. He was an intelligent, capable leader, with a great heart as well as a great mind. But Jaina was convinced that this tacit acceptance of the graphically violent attack in Ashenvale would lead to nothing positive. He might keep the goodwill of his people, but he would lose that of the Alliance—well, what little was left, anyway. She had to hope that he would find out who was behind it and deal with them swiftly. A second occurrence would be disastrous.

She docked, secured the little dinghy, and walked toward the keep, lost in thought. She was worried about Thrall and his relationship to the Horde. In all the time she had known him, he had never seemed so … uncertain about his control over it. She had been stunned at the conclusions he had reached about how to proceed. Thrall would never in his heart condone such unnecessary violence. And, therefore, how could he publicly?

She smiled perfunctorily at the guards and ascended the tower that housed her private quarters. And Varian—he was still dealing, poorly, it was clear, with the integration of his separated selves. It would have been better if he had been granted some period of calm, but such was not fate’s decree. The Alliance had been plunged into war with a man—if you could still call him that—who had once been her childhood friend, and who had slaughtered tens of thousands. And what of young Anduin? He was a capable youth, perceptive and smart. But he wanted a father who could—well, father him.

She entered the sitting room, where a cheerful fire burned in the hearth. It was late afternoon, so she was not surprised to see that the servants had laid out the tea things.

She was, however, surprised to see a fair-haired young man, a cup and saucer in his lap, who turned to her with an impish grin.

“Hello, Aunt Jaina,” he said. “Your hearthstone worked perfectly.”

“Goodness, Anduin!” Jaina said, startled but pleased. “I only just saw you a few days ago!”

“I did warn you that you’d be seeing me all the time,” he said