World of Warcraft: The Shattering: Prelude to Cataclysm Page 0,66

Go’el that I wish you to be his primary teacher during his time in Nagrand. I will still instruct you, Thrall, but our lessons will be carried out here. My body no longer has the strength to travel the breadth of this land. Aggra’s does. She can take you to places you need to visit.”

Thrall nodded with what he hoped was courtesy to the younger orc female. “I understand, and I welcome her training.”

Aggra lifted a black eyebrow and made a small, dismissive, grunting sound.

“And, Aggra … you may not agree with Go’el on everything. You do not have to. You simply need to instruct him as well as you can, with true willingness to impart information. His land is suffering. He has turned over his duties in Azeroth to Garrosh Hellscream—”

“Garrosh? That child is not fit to—”

“—in order to learn how to help his world,” Geyah continued implacably, letting her voice grow louder and more stern. “Who he has appointed to lead the Horde does not matter to me or to you. What matters to us should be that he has done so. Do you think yourself above trying to aid the elements when they are in torment?”

Aggra’s cheeks darkened. She looked about to retort, but then folded her hands in her lap. “You are right, Greatmother. I have dedicated my life to listening to them and working with them, even the elements of another world. I will serve by teaching Go’el all that I know.” Clearly unable to resist, she added, “Whatever I may think about him personally.”

Thrall gave her a polite smile. “And I, for my part, am willing to listen and learn all that I may, for the sake of my world. Whatever I may think about Aggra personally.”

EIGHTEEN

The weeks crawled past. Varian had insisted that Anduin remain in Ironforge.

“You have a chance to help the people of Ironforge now,” Varian had said. “You’ve made some good friends there. And the fact that the prince of Stormwind is staying there throughout this difficult period sends a strong signal about how highly we regard the dwarves. I know it’s not a very pleasant place to be right now, but not everything you do as king will be pleasant either.”

Anduin had nodded and returned to Ironforge within the hour of the conversation. He knew his father was right, and he did want to help.

Still, he knew it would be best for all involved if Muradin or Brann took up the role their brother had so tragically laid down.

Soon.

He continued to speak with Rohan and train with several of Magni’s personal guards. He was with the high priest one day when Wyll hastened up to him, limping a little from the run and out of breath.

“Your Highness! Come quickly!”

Anduin was on his feet instantly. “What is it? What’s wrong?”

“I—I’m not sure,” panted the elderly servant. “You are both … wanted at the High Seat. …”

Rohan and Anduin exchanged glances, then rose and hurried off. Anduin wondered if Muradin or Brann had finally come to assume leadership. It was a thought that filled him with relief, but at the same time he felt a twinge that such a thing was necessary. Still, it would be what Magni wanted. He forced himself not to run.

He rounded the corner and couldn’t help himself; he broke into a trot the last few feet.

And slid to a halt, disbelieving what he saw.

Neither Muradin nor Brann Bronzebeard had answered the summons to return to Ironforge to take up the crown. But another Bronzebeard had come.

Advisor Belgrum stood looking as if he, like Magni, had been turned to diamond, except for his wide, alarmed eyes. The guards who had always stood protectively near Magni Bronzebeard now clustered over on one side, looking confused and distressed. Their positions were now being held by other dwarves with long black beards and skin as gray as their armor. They bristled with weapons. But Anduin only gave them the most cursory of glances. He stared, instead, at a young dwarf female.

She was pretty, with reddish-brown hair neatly pinned up in circular buns on either side of her head. She was dressed in fine but somewhat old-fashioned clothing and held a small toddler in her lap. Anduin knew he had never seen her before, but she looked strangely familiar to him.

And she was seated on Magni Bronzebeard’s throne.

“Ah, High Priest Rohan,” said the stranger in a mellifluous voice, smiling gently. “So very good to see you again. And this young human