He shook his head angrily. That was a dangerous path down which to travel, one that could only end in despair. There was no room for the enormous yet tiny word “if.” That was the siren song of utter failure, disguised in its own costume of wishful thinking. What was, was, and he needed all the wisdom and clearheadedness and confidence he could muster if disaster was to be averted.
Jaina found, somewhat to her surprise, that she missed Kalec’s presence. He was never inappropriately dismissive of the direness of their situation—indeed, he more than anyone bore the burden of locating the Focusing Iris, since it belonged to his flight—but he brought a certain lightness to an otherwise dark and frightening quest. His wit and mind were quick, his manner gentle and kind, his insight great. He seemed to know exactly when to suggest a break, or when to push for the breakthrough, the new place to look, or the new way of thinking that made all four of them want to continue despite the odds.
And, she had to admit, in his half-elven form, he was not at all unpleasant to look at. She realized with mild surprise that it had been a long time since she had allowed herself to enjoy simple things like male company and quiet conversation. Even longer since she had felt… well… safe enough to open up to work so fully and completely with another. Jaina had learned through bitter experience that part of being a good diplomat was never truly letting your guard down, nor showing all your cards. To do so was to expose yourself, to become vulnerable. And while a diplomat could certainly make gestures of trust, and honestly work for what was best for everyone, he or she should never become vulnerable. To become so was to lose all. Jaina had once thought she had lost all, when Arthas fell to darkness. She had learned that she had not, but nonetheless she had remained guarded—as a diplomat and as a person.
She realized she’d become vulnerable with Kalecgos. He seemed to coax it from her without her even being aware of it. How odd, she thought, the drollness of the situation curving her lips in a smile, I feel safe with a dragon. Then again, she had felt safe with Go’el, too—an orc, for Light’s sake, the warchief of the Horde—but she had never allowed herself to be truly vulnerable.
Though they all hoped that Kalec would be able to locate the Focusing Iris now that he could once again properly identify it, there was still work to be done in case the trail went cold. Tervosh was investigating distance-confinement spells, and Kinndy had returned to Dalaran to rummage through a trunk of scrolls that had been tucked in the far back of the library. “You’d envy me,” she had told Jaina when they spoke through the mirror. “There’s dust everywhere.”
On a less hopeful and more brutally practical note, Jaina, Tervosh, and Pained had begun to examine ways, both magical and mundane, to evacuate the major Alliance cities if the abductors chose to strike using the Focusing Iris. Jaina had wondered aloud about notifying the Horde, but Pained gave her a sharp look. “My lady,” she said, “we cannot discount the possibility that it is members of the Horde who stole the thing in the first place.”
“Nor can we discount that it might be members of the Alliance,” Jaina said. “Magic is known to both, Pained. Kel’Thuzad used to be a member of the Kirin Tor. Or it could be some other race entirely. Kalimdor is a large continent.”
“Then let us create some possibilities for the Horde, too,” suggested Tervosh, long used to finding common ground between the two women. “It couldn’t hurt.”
“And if the Horde is attacked, then perhaps offering aid swiftly can help build trust,” Jaina the diplomat said. Pained grimaced but said nothing.
After so long feeling as if she were wrestling with air, with no idea what to search for or where to turn, plotting something concrete like evacuation strategies for the major cities of Kalimdor was a relief. Jaina dropped easily, almost mechanically, into her logical, rational mind. Kalec had taught her what she already knew but did not realize she knew—that magic was mathematics. There was always some way for things to fit together correctly, and if there was not, well, you just hadn’t found that way yet.
The afternoon wound down into evening. After so many late nights and early mornings, Jaina welcomed rest. She crawled into bed almost as soon as the sun had set. Certain that Kalec would locate the Iris now, and that their troubles at least from that quarter would shortly be resolved, she fell asleep quickly.
“My lady.”
Jaina was so groggy that the urgent voice seemed part of her dream. She blinked awake to see a tall form with long ears silhouetted against the window. “Pained?” she murmured.
“A messenger has come. We have intercepted”—and Pained’s voice conveyed her doubt—“a Horde member who insists he speak with you.”
Now Jaina was fully awake. She slipped out of bed and grabbed a wrap, lighting the lamps with a quick gesture. Pained was dressed in her usual armor. “He claims to have been sent from Northwatch Hold, where the Alliance has fallen to the Horde.”
Jaina’s breath caught. Perhaps she should have gone to Northwatch after Kalecgos left. She sighed bitterly. “I am relieved that whoever found him didn’t kill him on sight.”
“He openly approached the guards,” Pained said. “And he brought this as a token. He assured them you would recognize it and wish to speak with him. The guards thought they should at least confirm his story.”
Pained held out a white, covered bundle. Jaina accepted it, noting that it was quite heavy. She gently removed the linen, and her eyes widened.
It was a mace, a thing of great beauty and clearly of dwarven craftsmanship. The head was silver, wrapped in intersecting bands of gold. Small gems were inlaid here and there, and it had runes etched upon it as well.
Jaina gazed at it raptly for a moment, then looked up at Pained. “Bring him to me,” was all she said.
A few moments later, the Horde messenger—Jaina no longer thought of him as a spy—was escorted in.
He was a huge shape, his form concealed by an encompassing cloak, and towered over the guards. Jaina got the feeling that, had he wished to, he could easily have dispatched both of them in a moment. Instead, he permitted himself to be roughly led in.
“Leave us,” Jaina said.
“My lady?” one of them asked. “Leave you alone with this… creature?”
She glanced at the guard sharply. “He has come to me in good faith, and you will not speak so of him.”
The guard colored slightly. The two bowed to their mistress, then withdrew, closing the parlor doors behind them.
The huge shape straightened. One hand emerged from the depths of the cloak to shrug off the hood, and Jaina found herself gazing into the calm, proud visage of a tauren.
“Lady Jaina Proudmoore,” he said, inclining his head. “My name is Perith Stormhoof. I come on orders from my high chieftain. He asked me to give you the mace. He said… it would help you to believe my words are truth.”
Jaina clutched the mace. “I would never mistake Fearbreaker,” she said. She recalled the time when she, Baine Bloodhoof, and Anduin Wrynn had sat together in this very chamber. Moved by Baine’s loss and uncertainty at assuming the title of his slain father, the human prince had rushed to his room and returned with this mace. It had been given to Anduin by King Magni Bronzebeard, and Jaina was touched to see the boy offering it to Baine—the child of an Alliance king gifting the child of a Horde high chieftain with something precious and beautiful. When Baine had accepted the gift, Fearbreaker had shown its approval by glowing softly in the tauren’s giant hand.
“He knew you would not. Lady Jaina—my high chieftain thinks gratefully and highly of you, and it is because of the memory of the night when he received Fearbreaker that he has sent me with this warning. Northwatch Hold has fallen to the Horde.” He did not speak with pleasure; indeed, Perith seemed grim and sad. “It further wounds him that this victory was won with the usage of dark shamanic magic. He despises these actions, but to protect his people, Baine has agreed that the tauren will continue to serve the Horde as they are needed. He wishes me to emphasize that at times, this obligation brings him little joy.”