Kalec, too, seemed to understand the shift and addressed both women in his response. “You are familiar with the device known as the Focusing Iris, which has long been in the keeping of the blue dragonflight.”
“That’s what Malygos used to create the surge needles that diverted the magical ley lines of Azeroth so they flowed to the Nexus,” said Kinndy. Jaina was afraid she was starting to put two and two together, but even now, she still hoped she was wrong.
“Yes,” he said. “It was. And it is this ancient orb that has been stolen from us.”
Kinndy looked as if she was going to be sick. Jaina stared at Kalecgos in horror. She couldn’t imagine how he felt. She blurted out the first thing that came to her mind.
“Thank you—for being willing to ask for help,” she said, reaching out and pressing his hand impulsively. He glanced at her hand, then her face, and nodded.
“I did not exaggerate when I said it affects all of us,” he said. “I spoke with Rhonin, then flew directly here. You, young lady,” he said to Kinndy, “are only the third non-dragon to know.”
“I—I’m flattered,” stammered Kinndy. The resentment she seemed to bear toward Kalec had utterly disappeared. She said nothing more about “tall tales.” Kalecgos had been telling the truth.
“What do you know of the theft?” asked Jaina, anxious to turn the discussion to practical matters—what was known, what was yet to be discovered, and, hopefully, what could be done about it.
Briefly, Kalecgos filled them in. Jaina’s heart sank with each word. Taken by unknown foes who could overcome five dragons?
“Did Rhonin offer any help?” she asked, surprised by how faint and hopeless her own voice sounded. Kinndy was turning the color of parchment and hadn’t spoken in a while.
Kalecgos shook his blue-black head. “No. Not yet, at any rate. I was able to sense the direction in which it was traveling. Faintly, but it was there. That’s what led me to Kalimdor—and to you, Jaina.” He spread his hands in an imploring gesture. “I am the leader of the blue dragons. We understand magic. We have our own tomes, more ancient than any you have seen. But what we do not have are your resources. I am not arrogant enough to think that we know everything. There are magi not born dragons who came up with things no dragon ever knew of. That’s where you can help me—if you would.”
“Of course,” said Jaina. “I’ll bring in Archmage Tervosh, and we’ll all put our heads together.”
“Breakfast first?” asked Kinndy.
“Absolutely,” Kalecgos said. “Who can focus on an empty stomach?”
Slowly, Jaina’s heart lifted, at least a little. Kalec could track the progress of the missing device. He was willing, apparently eager, to accept help. And he was right. Who could focus on an empty stomach?
Their eyes met and he smiled. Her heart lifted a little more. They had to believe they would recover it in time. And as Kalecgos, Kinndy, and she went into the dining room, she had hope that they would.
The five of them—Jaina, Kalecgos, Tervosh, Pained, and Kinndy—flung themselves into work and research. Kinndy returned to Dalaran, where, with Rhonin’s blessing, she had access to the library. Jaina envied her the task.
“I remember when that was my duty,” she told Kinndy, giving the gnome a quick hug. “There was nothing I liked better than poring through those old tomes and scrolls and simply learning.” She felt a slight pang; the “new Dalaran” was beautiful, but she no longer belonged there.
“It was probably more fun when the fate of the world didn’t rest on your research,” Kinndy said morosely. Jaina had to agree.
Pained, who was in charge of Jaina’s spy network, departed when she heard the news. “I will go into the field and learn what I can,” she said. “My spies are diligent, but they might not understand what they need to look for in this situation.” She eyed Kalecgos. “I assume you may be safe here, with this… person, my lady.”
“I think my own skills and those of a former Aspect will keep me safe in the event of any threat, yes, Pained,” Jaina said. Her voice held no amusement, as she knew how seriously Pained took her duties. The night elf’s gaze flickered to Kalec, then back to Jaina. Pained saluted.
“Lady.”
Once Kinndy and Pained had departed for their respective errands, Jaina looked at Tervosh and Kalecgos, nodded briskly, and said, “Let’s get to work. Kalec—earlier you said that you were able to track the Focusing Iris. Why haven’t you simply followed it? Why come to me?”
He glanced down, looking slightly sick. “I said I had been able to follow it. The trail… vanished shortly after I reached Kalimdor.”
“What?” Tervosh was irritated. “It couldn’t just stop.”
“Yes,” Jaina said, her voice heavy. “It could. Whoever stole this thing must have a great deal of power at their disposal if they could stand against five dragons. But they didn’t know enough about it at that time to completely conceal the theft. That’s why Kalec was able to track it.”
“My thoughts exactly,” Kalec said. “At some point, they either did learn enough about it or found a mage who was sufficiently powerful to hide its emanation from me.”
Tervosh put his face in his hands for a moment. “That’s—someone very powerful indeed.”
“True,” Jaina said. She lifted her chin in slight defiance of the bad news. “They may have a powerful mage, or more than one. But so do we. And we have the benefit of someone who knows everything about the Focusing Iris. We’d better settle in for a bit while Kalec brings us up to speed.”
“What do you need to know?”
“Everything,” she said firmly. “Don’t just give us the basics. We need all the details. Even something that seems insignificant could prove useful. Tervosh and I must know what you know.”
Kalecgos smiled ruefully. “That could take some time.”
It did. He talked until it was time for the midday meal, when they paused briefly to eat, and then until dinner, and continued after that. Even a dragon’s voice, it seemed, became hoarse if he spoke too long. The hour grew late, and that first night, the three all stumbled off to their various bedchambers with heavy-lidded eyes. Jaina didn’t know how the others slept, but as for herself, she had nightmares.
She awoke the next morning feeling groggy and unrested. Her ritual did not restore her as it usually did, and the sky was overcast and lowering. She felt a heaviness sink into her chest, and sighed. Not wanting to look out on the gray day, she let the curtain fall and went downstairs.
Kalecgos gave her a warm smile as she entered the little parlor, but it faltered as he noticed her pallor.
“Didn’t sleep well?”
She shook her head. “You?”
“Well enough. Though I was troubled with bad dreams. I blame your chef. That dinner tasted delicious, but obviously there was a fragment of an underdone potato hiding in there somewhere.”
Despite the direness of the situation, Jaina found herself chuckling a little. “Then you are welcome to conjure all our meals, and that will teach you to complain!” she said, chiding him teasingly.
He gave her a look of mock horror. Their eyes met, and they both sobered.
“It seems… wrong to joke,” Jaina said with a sigh. She began the preparation of the tea, measuring it out precisely as she always did, and setting the kettle to boil.
“It might seem wrong,” Kalec said in agreement, helping himself to the eggs, boar sausage, and hot porridge despite his earlier teasing disparagement of the chef’s abilities. “But it isn’t.”
“Surely humor is inappropriate at times.” Jaina fixed her own plate and sat down next to Kalec.
“At times,” he said, digging into the sausage. “But joy is never inappropriate. Not real joy. Not the sort of lightness in the soul that makes the burdens bearable.” He gave her a sideways glance as he chewed and swallowed. “I didn’t give you and Kinndy the full quote that I—well, ‘heard’ isn’t the right word. ‘Received,’ possibly, from Norgannon.”