World of Warcraft: The Shattering: Prelude to Cataclysm Page 0,92

horned head swiveled around, and he blinked at Anduin for a moment.

“Some would call you traitor for revealing that information, young prince,” he said quietly.

“What Moira is doing is wrong, even if she is the legitimate heir,” Anduin said. “Some of her goals and plans make sense. But how she’s going about them—I can’t approve of that. Just because she’s a dwarf and the daughter of a friend doesn’t mean I blindly support her. And just because you’re a member of the Horde doesn’t mean I wouldn’t support you.”

He kept his gaze on Baine, but out of the corner of his eye he saw Jaina relax slightly, hopefully.

“He has met Thrall, and they like and respect each other,” Jaina said. “You could ask for no better endorsement, Baine.”

Baine nodded, though his ears flapped, presumably in distress. “Had not Thrall left, though, I would have no need of your aid, and …” He paused, and took a deep breath, blowing it out through his nostrils. “And my father would still be alive.”

Anduin gasped and looked at Jaina. Her eyes were sad, and she nodded. “Baine already told me,” she said quietly.

“I’m so sorry,” he said, and meant it. Whatever anyone thought of the Horde, everyone agreed that Cairne had been a good, decent leader and a good … man? Person? But it was not unexpected. Cairne was old. It seemed strange that Baine seemed so upset. No, not upset—anyone who loved his father would be upset at his passing—but … agitated. Distressed. “What happened?”

“Sit down,” Jaina said, not unkindly. This time Anduin and Baine complied, taking seats on the floor. Jaina poured tea for all of them, put the cups on a tray, and sat down on the floor, cross-legged, herself. Anduin took a cup, and, after a moment, so did Baine. He regarded the tiny cup in his massive hand and gave a little chuckle—possibly the first, Anduin suspected, he had uttered since learning of his father’s death.

Jaina glanced from one to the other. “Neither of you knows how much I wish we three were meeting under different circumstances,” she said quietly, “particularly yours, Baine. But at least we are meeting. Maybe this conversation tonight will lay the groundwork for future, more formal conversations between our people.”

Anduin lifted his cup. “To better times,” he said. Jaina lifted hers and clinked it gently. After a moment Baine did so, too.

“I think … my father would be glad of this,” he said. “Prince Anduin. Let me tell you what suffering this past day has brought.”

“I’m listening,” the prince of Stormwind said.

* * *

“Are you listening to me?” Moira screamed.

“Aye, Your Excellency, I—”

“How could you let him escape?”

“I dinna ken! We’ve arrested th’ magi. … Perhaps a warlock summoning frae outside?” Drukan was reaching here, and he knew it.

“We have wards up against such a thing!” Moira was pacing now. It was early morning, and this was not the sort of news she had wished to awaken to. Not at all. She had simply thrown on a wrap when Drukan had sent her an agitated message that her prize pet had escaped. “No, it must have been something else. Perhaps you simply drank too much and slept while he tiptoed past you!”

Drukan frowned but bit back a retort. “I dinna drink on duty, Yer Excellency. And even if he had slipped past me, he would not have gotten past the guards stationed at every entrance.”

Moira placed a hand to her throbbing temples and massaged them. “How is not important. We …” A crafty smile curved her lips. “Perhaps we are mistaken. Perhaps my pretty little caged bird of a prince has not escaped after all.”

Drukan looked at her, perplexed. She sighed. “He has clearly left his quarters, yes. But perhaps he is still in Ironforge, simply hiding. There are many places for one to hide in this city.”

“Indeed there—oh.”

She smiled sweetly. “I will send you as many additional guards as you need to search for him. But you must not attract undue attention! No one must know that he is missing. You have taken the doddering old servant in for questioning?”

Drukan brightened somewhat. “Oh, yes indeed.”

“Take care he is not mistreated. We want Anduin … cooperative.”

“Of course.”

“This must stay as quiet as possible. We shall put out word that Anduin is ill. … No, no, then that pesky Rohan will insist upon seeing him. What to do, what to do …” Moira paced the room, pausing beside her son’s cradle and rocking it