"In any event, I am ready."
Lorena braced herself. She'd been teleported only once, back during the war, and it had made her sick to her stromach.
Sure enough, the world turned upside down and inside out, and Lorena felt as if her head had been removed and placed between her knees, while her feet were sticking up out of her neck.
A second later, the world normalized, and Lorena heaved. Dimly, as she bent over on the stone floor, she registered that this was Lady Proudmoore's throne room, and Duree was going to scream at her for retching all over the floor.
"Milady!" That was Kristoff's voice. "You're back—and with Colonel Lorena. We were afraid you'd been taken by the Burning Blade. You'll be happy to know that we've reinforced Northwatch—which is good, as orc and troll troops are headed there by land and by sea. And who is this?"
Lorena heaved once again, her stomach clenching so badly it made being the conduit for the lady's spell seem heavenly by comparison.
"My name is Aegwynn."
"Really?" Kristoff sounded surprised, as if he knew who Aegwynn was. Lorena herself still had no idea, beyond the fact that she was a very old woman.
"Yes. And while I'm no longer truly a Tirisfalen, I still know the stink of demonkind when I smell it, and it's all over you."
Though there was nothing left in her stomach, Lorena heaved again, wondering what a teeris fallen was.
"What are you talking about?" Kristoff asked.
"Please, Kristoff," the lady said, "tell me that Aegwynn is mistaken. Please tell me that you have not consorted with Zmodlor and the Burning Blade."
"Milady, it isn't what you think."
Her stomach having finished torturing her, Lorena was finally able to stand upright. She saw a rather interesting tableau. Kristoff stood in front of the throne, looking frightened. Aegwynn looked mildly peeved, which wasn't qualitatively different from how she'd looked since Lorena met her.
But in Lady Proudmoore, she saw something new: a cold fury. A storm seemed to be gathering behind her eyes, and Lorena found herself very grateful that the lady was on her side.
"Not what I think? What is it, exactly, Kristoff, that I should think?"
"The orcs must be eliminated, milady. Zmodlor has the same goal, and he is a minor demon. I have already put in place the sequence of events that will banish him from the world altogether when we are done."
" ‘Done'? Done with what? Tell me what it is you've set in motion, Kristoff."
"A chain of events that will drive the orcs from this world forever. It is for the best, milady. They do not belong in this world, and—"
"You idiot!"
Kristoff reacted as if he'd been slapped. Lorena was no less surprised than the chamberlain. In all the time she'd served under her, the colonel had never heard Lady Proudmoore speak with such vehement anger.
"Zmodlor is a demon. Do you truly believe that you will be able to stop him?" She pointed at the old woman. "This is Aegwynn, the greatest of the Guardians."
Aegwynn snorted at that, but both the lady and Kristoff ignored her.
"She was unable to completely defeat Zmodlor at the height of her power. What makes you think you'll fare better? And even if you could, no goal is worth risking an alliance with a demon. Their only purpose is to create havoc and desolation. Or was the destruction of Lordaeron not enough for you? Must Kalimdor follow in its wake once this war you seem bent on starting at Northwatch breaks out?"
"Besides," Aegwynn said, "even if you had the means to destroy or banish Zmodlor, you couldn't do it. You're in his thrall."
"That's absurd!" Kristoff sounded even more nervous now. "Ours is simply an alliance of convenience, and once the orcs are gone—"
"The orcs are our allies, Kristoff!" Lightning seemed to crackle around her golden hair, and a small breeze seemed to materialize at her ankles, billowing the lady's white cloak. "That alliance was forged in blood. And the demons are the enemies of everything that lives. How could you betray us—betray me—like that?"
Kristoff was sweating profusely now. "I swear to you, milady, it is not a betrayal. I was simply doing what was best for Theramore! The Burning Blade is simply a cult of warlocks under Zmodlor's direction that are bringing out the natural hostility toward orcs. They're doing nothing but abetting what's already there!"
"What about the orcs who are members?" Lorena asked.
"What?" Kristoff sounded confused.
"The orcs who attacked me and my troops at Northwatch, they were part of the Burning Blade—and they were orcs. How do they fit in?"
"I—" Kristoff seemed to be at a loss.
Lady Proudmoore angrily shook her head. "How many, Kristoff? How many will die to provide your perfect orc—free world?"
Now Kristoff seemed to be on surer ground. "Far fewer than if we wait until Thrall dies and the orcs revert to type. This was the only—"
"Enough!" Now the breeze kicked into high gear, and lightning shot out from the lady's fingertips.
Kristoff screamed a second later, clutching his left shoulder. Smoke started to wisp out from it between his fingers.
Instinctively, Lorena ran to Kristoff and ripped away the cloth of his shirt.
There was a tattoo on his shoulder blade of a sword on fire, identical to the ones Lorena, Strov, Clai, Jalod, and the others saw on the orcs they fought at Northwatch. The tattoo was now burning.
A second later, the tattoo was gone, leaving only charred flesh in its wake. Kristoff collapsed to the floor like a sack of suet, his eyes fluttering.
In a quiet voice, Aegwynn said, "Zmodlor's gone."
"Yes." Lady Proudmoore sounded calmer now. "And my casting that exorcism spell likely alerted him to the fact that we're on to him."
"'M sorry…"
Lorena knelt down at Kristoff's side. His words were barely a whisper.
"Thought…what I did… of own free will… but Zmodlor… controlled… everything. So… sorry… sorry…"
The light faded from his eyes.
All three women stood in silence for several seconds.
The sad thing to Lorena was that Kristoff hadn't been a bad person, truly. He had done what he thought best for Theramore. He had been doing his duty. Of course, he had done it spectacularly badly, but his heart had been in the right place. That, in turn, made her feel guilty. There had been times when she wished Kristoff dead, but now that he was dead, she felt sad.
She looked at Lady Proudmoore. "We have to get to Northwatch. If we're lucky, the war won't have started yet, and maybe we can get the troops to stand down. You've got to do it in person, though, milady—Major Davin won't take orders from anyone else."
Lady Proudmoore nodded. "You're right. I'll—"
"No."
That was Aegwynn. The lady gazed at her coolly. "I beg your pardon?"
"There's magic afoot here, Lady Proudmoore, and you're the only person in Kalimdor who can stop it. Your erstwhile chamberlain was right about one thing—Zmodlor is a minor demon. He was a sycophant of Sargeras's. He doesn't have the power to influence so many people—or to raze a forest and teleport the trees, if it comes to that. Those warlocks Kristoff mentioned are the source of all this—they're acting in Zmodlor's name, probably in exchange for rare scrolls or some other such thing." She shook her head. "Warlocks go after spells like an addict to a poppy plant. It's revolting."
"We don't have time to go on a hunt for a group of warlocks," Lorena said.
"Those warlocks are the source of all this, Colonel," Aegwynn said.
Lorena looked at Lady Proudmoore. "For all we know, milady, the fighting has already started. If it hasn't, it may at any second, if Kristoff was right about those orc and troll troops heading down. Once the fighting starts, it won't matter who or what caused it—there will be bloodshed, and once that line is crossed, the alliance will be permanently sundered."