The Lion of the Waves, victorious, swung slowly around. The shaman redirected the wind, and the ship bore down on its next target. “One doon; three tae go!” crowed Telda. “Come on, lads an’ lassies! We’ll be supping in Orgrimmar by sunset!”
And that was when a gray cloak fell over the ship.
Varian swore. This was shamanic doing. But already the warlocks were reacting, sending their glowing green orbs beyond the reach of the conjured fog and reporting back. One of them, a human woman seemingly too young for the shining white hair that draped over her shoulders, called to Varian, “Majesty—they’re doing something in the ocean. It’s churning fiercely. I can’t quite make out what’s going on.”
More cannon fire, but this time, Varian didn’t know which ships were doing the firing and which were being fired upon. And then there came a dreadful cracking sound—not the sound of ships buckling under cannon fire, but something new and horrible that was out there but unseen. And suddenly Varian understood that even though the Horde was vastly outnumbered, its forces were much more dangerous than he had anticipated.
25
It took time—more time than Jaina wanted to spend. But she needed to be thorough. Antonidas had taught her that. If you rushed through the studying of spells or their execution, you risked results where nothing happened—at best—or at worst, disaster. “It’s every bit as dangerous as going into battle with a type of weapon you’ve never handled before,” he had said, cautioning her.
So she sat on one of the small hills on Fray Island and reread everything the stolen tome could tell her about the Focusing Iris. She thought about what Kalec had shown her of magic, how it was logical and precise, and about what the book claimed, that arcane energy was so similar to an element it might as well be one, for all magical intents and purposes. As she read, Jaina would absently reach out to stroke the surface of the Focusing Iris, cool even in the hot sun.
She had already performed some experiments with the item, and successfully; its new, smaller size was testament to that. She restored it to its proper size and began other tests. She slept little and ate only conjured food. After two days of reining in her impatience, heartened by her success here, Jaina finally felt she was ready. She watched with narrowed eyes as the Horde sent most of its vessels from Northwatch Hold. Jaina expected they were going to Orgrimmar. The thought gave her pleasure.
Yes, go home, she thought.
She turned to face the ocean. The salty breeze stirred her white hair. Jaina centered herself, placing her hands on the Focusing Iris. If she understood correctly how the thing worked, it was a conduit—and, in the right hands, a magnifier—of arcane energy. She felt it tingling coldly. Then suddenly, a slender crack ran along its surface. And like an eye, it started to open.
Jaina gasped but did not break contact. As long as she was directing the flow of magic, it would obey her. There was a searing flash, and a beam of light shot outward from the Focusing Iris to the ocean.
With one hand on the Iris still, Jaina lifted the other and made the familiar motions of a certain spell.
Before, this spell had created a single elemental. Now, so quickly, there were ten. Ten shimmering, imprisoned water elementals standing on the surface of the sea, their eyes glinting, what served for their arms encased in manacles.
Jaina laughed. Then she made more. And more still, until there was scarcely any unenchanted water to be seen. Ordinarily such work would be beyond her, and if it were not, she would be quivering with exhaustion by this point. Instead, she felt as strong as when she had begun. The Focusing Iris did all the work for her. No wonder the Horde had coveted it, and no wonder Kalec had been so worried when it had been stolen.
For a brief moment, Jaina’s concentration was elsewhere. The image of the blue dragon, beautiful to her in both his forms, appeared in her mind. She recalled his kindness, his laughter, how her heart had skipped a beat when he kissed her hand.
But it was only a moment. Grimly Jaina brought her attention back to the water elementals. There was no place for laughter and kindness in her world now. Not while a single orc yet breathed.
With little more than a thought and a twitch of her fingers, she reformed those few elementals that had begun to lose cohesion due to her inattention. Now to begin the binding.
She had no spell for such a thing. To the best of her knowledge, it did not exist. But the Focusing Iris appeared not to be limited by such trivialities. Jaina concentrated hard on her intention, weaving her fingers in ways that came naturally to her.
And the Focusing Iris—and the elementals—obeyed.
They began to fuse together, thousands of them, not quite losing their shapes, but adapting to become part of a single, greater form. Jaina smiled. Her heart racing as she beheld her success, she wove them together even more. What had once been thousands of individual elementals, dancing on the top of the ocean, was now a single wave.
A tidal wave.
Higher it grew, and broader. Moving her hand in an upward gesture, Jaina caused the wave to rise. In the vast wall of water, she could still see individual eyes and enchanted manacles on watery arms. But they would not separate. Not while she bid them to stay together.
She took her time. It was no small distance from here to the tidal wave’s ultimate destination. Jaina would need many elementals and would have to keep masterful control if she was to be successful. Finally, she was almost ready. A few more to gather up, another ten, perhaps twenty feet higher—
“Jaina!” said a voice, deep and rich and laced both with joy and pain.
The wave faltered as Jaina turned, keeping one hand still firmly on the Focusing Iris.
“Thrall!” Jaina shouted back. She deliberately did not use his “true name.” “What are you doing here?”
The pleasure on his face faded. “I am so glad you live, my old friend. But I was called here… to stop you.”
Old friend, he called her. That was what they were, wasn’t it? Friends who had worked side by side, to stop wars, to save lives, both Horde and Alliance.
But they could be friends no longer.
The Doomhammer remained strapped across his back as he strode toward her, his arms outstretched imploringly. “I had a vision—of a tsunami unleashed on Orgrimmar. A tsunami that had its origins here. And so I came, as the elements begged me to, to stop this from occurring. In all my dreams and fears, I never thought to find you alive—and behind this horrible disaster about to happen. Please, Jaina—release them. Let them go.”
“I can’t,” she said, and her voice cracked. “I have to do this, Thrall.”
“I have heard about what happened to Theramore,” Thrall said, still slowly approaching her. “I grieve with you at so many deaths in so brutal a fashion. But doing to Orgrimmar what the Horde did to Theramore—it won’t bring anyone back, Jaina. All it will do is take more innocent lives.”
“You grieve?” she snarled. “Theramore’s destruction I lay firmly at your feet, Thrall! You left Garrosh in charge of the Horde! I begged you to come back, to remove him from power. I knew he would do something terrible one day, and he has. Garrosh may have done this—but I blame you for giving him the power to do it!”
Thrall stopped dead in his tracks, shocked by her words.
“Then—blame me, Jaina. Ancestors know, I blame myself. But do not seek to buy vengeance for the fallen of Theramore by killing my people!”
“People?” Jaina echoed. “I can’t even call them that anymore. They’re not people. They’re monsters. And so are you! My father was right—it took an entire city of people slaughtered before I could see it. I was blind to what the orcs were, because of you. You tricked me into believing that there could be peace, that the orcs weren’t bloodthirsty animals. But you lied. This is war, Thrall, and war hurts. War is ugly. But you started it! Your Horde obliterated Theramore and is now blockading the Alliance cities in Kalimdor. Whole populations are being held hostage, are being attacked. Well, as we stand here, Varian is leading the fight to break that blockade. And when I’ve completed my task, I’ll help him. And then we’ll see who holds whom hostage! But first—I destroy the city named for Orgrim Doomhammer, in the land named for your father!”