Kalec flew over the ships in the harbor. From this distance, they looked like toys—toys that were firing cannons, bursting into flames, and sinking. There was damage on both sides; the Horde, too, had determined the wisdom of positioning magi to incinerate the enemy’s vessels, and more than one of the famous 7th fleet battleships bore blossoms of orange-and-gold fire. He dove low, sending a chilling breath to extinguish the flames where he could, and hearing the cheers of the relieved crews as he did so. He angled his body to wheel about, turning his attention to the Horde vessels and the more somber task of attacking rather than protecting. Kalec flew until he was directly over a cluster of three of them, then tucked his wings and dropped. So swift was he that the cannoneers didn’t see him in time to redirect their fire. At the last second, the blue dragon opened his wings and lashed out with his tail. The mast of the ship in the center snapped like a twig. As Kalec gained height, he conjured a spell, and ice shards rained down, plunging toward the decks and punching massive holes in them. Now the cannons did roar, but by then Kalec was well out of range.
He flew back over the city, aware of how many were engaged in aerial combat. Kalec swerved toward a group of several Horde fighters against only a few embattled gryphons and joined in the fray.
The Horde had reached the north gate, and the terrifying, rhythmic thud of a battering ram was added to the sounds of conflict. How they had gotten it over the swamp when the bridge was destroyed was a mystery—probably, thought Jaina as she hurried to the gate, several tauren had simply borne the massive thing on their shoulders as they waded across.
She had intended to race up the steps to the walkway again, to lend her aid to those who were already there and try to attack as many at once as possible. But something stopped her.
The gates were shuddering under the pounding.
And they shouldn’t have been.
Not with a member of the Kirin Tor shoring them up with powerful magics. A terrible thought occurred to her.
Boom. Boom. Boom.
The timbers were bulging from the impact. And the hinges and metal bands—
They were curling in on themselves.
Jaina whirled and, with all her might, sent a massive blast of arcane energy directly at Thalen Songweaver.
In his arrogance, he was not expecting it. He stumbled back but recovered quickly. The blood elf stared at Jaina. For an instant, it appeared as if Thalen would protest his innocence, but then his white brows drew together as he sneered and lifted his hands.
He dropped like a stone. Pained stood behind him, still holding the sword whose hilt had so inelegantly yet efficiently disabled the foe.
“I’m surprised you didn’t just kill him,” Jaina said as two others rushed up and prepared to bind the mage hand and foot.
“A traitor is a useful thing to have on hand,” Pained said. “With luck, we will… persuade him to talk.”
“We’re not the Scarlet Onslaught, Pained,” Jaina said. She turned to redirect her attention to the gate, but two other magi had already stepped in to protect it. A human and a gnome.
“I hope you are not suggesting you will invite him to tea,” Pained said.
“No. I will hand him over to Captain Evencane. He and others will interrogate him when we have a moment to spare.” She nodded to the soldiers, who carted off the unconscious blood elf, and realized that Rhonin had stepped beside her.
“I can’t believe it,” he muttered. “I personally vouched for him to come.”
“I am certain he fooled many others than you,” Jaina said.
“Indeed,” Rhonin said bitterly. “This will be a blow to Aethas and his cause.”
“Do you think Thalen acted alone?”
“I do,” Rhonin said. “Because if I don’t—”
The gate splintered, caught fire, and the Horde rushed through.
Kinndy found herself trembling from the strain, and she had the help of a Kirin Tor mage! Thoder smiled down at her reassuringly, his rough face kind. “You’re doing very well,” he said. “Lady Jaina has chosen a fine apprentice.”
“I’d be better if I didn’t feel like I was going to fall over,” Kinndy muttered.
“Take a rest,” Thoder said. “Eat something. You’ll be stronger for it in just a few moments, and I can hold it until then.”
Kinndy nodded gratefully and staggered off, leaning against the stone wall as she gobbled down bread and water. She wondered if she’d ever be anywhere near as good as Thoder or Lady Jaina. They made it seem so effortless. Especially Lady Jaina. Kinndy had been in awe as Jaina had blasted wave after wave of the encroaching Horde with apparent ease. As she ate, Kinndy found her mind drifting toward the sounds of battle raging right on the other side of the wall, and felt herself drawing inward. Focusing on keeping the gate closed had helped distract her more than she had realized. Uneasy with the revelation, she straightened, brushed crumbs from her mouth, and ran over to rejoin Thoder.
As she approached, she saw the gate timbers strain, and the blood drained from her face. Outside, the battle was escalating.
Kinndy, if that gate comes down, dozens—hundreds—of Horde will pour through. We’ve got to keep it as secure as possible. This might be the single most important thing anyone can do. You could save all our lives.
She quickened her pace the rest of the way, extending her hands and muttering a spell as she did. And to her pride and relief, she saw the buckling of the wood subside.
“Horde have breached the gates! Horde have breached the gates!”
For a wild second, all Kinndy thought was, No, the gates are holding just fine! And then she understood. Apparently, the magi at the north gate had not been so fortunate.
Seldom had Theramore witnessed such violence. The Horde was pouring forward like a wave through a break in the dike.
That the Horde would somehow enter the city, by finally destroying the wards or by scrambling over the walls or by aerial assault, had been anticipated and prepared for. Treason from within the very ranks of the Kirin Tor had not. The battle inside Theramore had come too soon, and the Alliance defenders who had been expected to fight hand-to-hand were still recovering from their earlier injuries.
It was a saying that generals stood back and planned wars while others fought and died in them. Such was not the case with these. Fully armored and armed, Jonathan, Redmane, Stoutblow, Shandris, and Tiras’alan charged into the fray without hesitation, so that the Horde met not fresh-faced recruits but some of the very best fighters the Alliance had to offer.
Kalecgos flew over Theramore, doing reconnaissance to see how the battle was progressing and where he was needed. He saw the Horde flood into the city and immediately began pressing the attack. He breathed a cloud of frost on them, slowing their movements, then rose, wheeled, and attacked a second time.
He dove, caught Jaina up in his forepaw, and bore her upward—not taking her out of her battle, no, but giving her a dragon’s-eye view.
“Where do you most need me?” he asked. “And where should you be?”
She was completely relaxed in the grasp of his huge forepaw. Her hands rested on a great talon, and she peered down, the wind from his wings whipping her hair about her face.
“The north gate!” she cried. “There are so many still out there—we must stop any more coming in! Kalec—can you bring some trees and boulders to block the entrance and then focus on the Horde remaining outside? Drive them back?”
“I will,” Kalec promised. “And you?”
“Put me on the top of the citadel roof,” she said. “I can see nearly everything from there and can attack without being a target myself.”
“Save for those who take to the air,” Kalec said, warning her.
“I know it’s a risk, but it can’t be helped. Hurry, please!”