World of Warcraft: The Shattering: Prelude to Cataclysm Page 0,63

sack across his saddle, and mounted. The wyvern leaped skyward, his leathery wings beating quietly and rhythmically and creating a cool breeze that brushed the orc’s face.

* * *

Cairne stared after his old friend. Never had he thought it would come to this—an argument over something that was so obviously a mistake. He knew Thrall saw it, too, but for whatever reasons the orc felt it necessary to persist in this course of action.

The parting words wounded Cairne. He had not expected Thrall to dismiss his concerns so quickly or so thoroughly. There was virtue in the boy. Cairne had seen it. But the recklessness, the deaf ear he turned to sound advice, the burning need for acknowledgment and accolades—Cairne flicked his tail, the thoughts agitating him. These were qualities that needed tempering. And, of course, Cairne would be there. His words would be ignored, doubtless, but he would offer them.

He looked up again at Mannoroth’s skull, gazing into the shadowed eye sockets.

“Grom, if your spirit lingers, help us guide your son. You sacrificed yourself for the Horde. I know you would not wish to see your son destroy it.”

There was no response; if Grom was indeed here, lingering beside the great evil he had destroyed, he was providing no answers. Cairne was on his own.

PART II

… AND THE WORLD

WILL BREAK

SEVENTEEN

Aggra ran lightly over the surface of Skysong Lake, her bare, brown feet making only the faintest of splashes. Normally she walked, enjoying the feel of this place of power, but the wind had whispered in her ear a moment ago, with the words of Greatmother Geyah: Come, child, I have news.

Gentle as the words were, it was a summons that Aggra hastened to obey. She had come to the Throne of the Elements to sit quietly at the feet of the great Elemental Furies—Aborius, Gordawg, Kalandrios, and Incineratus—in the hope that perhaps today they would speak to her. She had barely settled down near Kalandrios, the Fury of Air, when Geyah’s words had come to her. So now she was heading back toward Garadar, the Horde fortress in this land of Nagrand, to hear the news that was so important it could not wait.

Aggra was a shaman, but as fit, healthy, and strong as most warriors. She was therefore only slightly out of breath from her exertion when she entered the building atop the highest rise of Garadar and dropped to her knees in front of the Greatmother, her head respectfully lowered.

“The wind bade me come, Greatmother. What is the news?”

Geyah smiled and patted the threadbare rug. Aggra moved to sit beside her. Geyah touched the younger orc’s face gently. “So prompt. Perhaps the wind let you fly, eh?”

Aggra chuckled and leaned into the gnarled hand. “No, but the water spirits let me run over the lake.”

Geyah laughed. “That was kind of them. As to my news, I have just heard from my grandson … and he wishes to come here to Nagrand, to learn what I have to teach.”

Aggra blinked. “He … what? Go’el?”

“Yes, Go’el.”

Aggra frowned. “Does he still go by that hateful slave name?”

“He does,” Geyah said, unperturbed by Aggra’s seeming rudeness. Aggra knew Geyah had realized long ago that it was easier to direct the elements to help one than it was to curb Aggra’s sharp tongue. “And that is his choice. Perhaps you can ask him why he so chooses when he arrives.”

“Perhaps I will,” Aggra agreed readily. She had never met the famous Thrall, as she had been away from Nagrand when he had come once before. All she knew of him was what others had told her. Now it seemed she would get the chance to make up her own mind about him. “I did not think he would ever return.”

“Nor I, save to bid me farewell when it is my time to join the ancestors,” Geyah said. “He has asked for my help.”

“Help? What does the oh-so-powerful Thrall need help with?”

“Healing his world.”

Aggra fell silent. “He tells me in this letter that the elements are distressed in Azeroth, and he seeks my wisdom,” continued Geyah. “He says that if anyone understands how to work with a world in turmoil, it is I.”

“Hmph,” sniffed Aggra. She was embarrassed by her earlier comments but was trying not to show it. “The green fellow does have wisdom in him, for all his humanlike ways.”

Geyah laughed, a cheerful cackle. “I look forward to seeing the two of you meet,” she said. “But he is not quite