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Authors: William King

Illidan (31 page)

BOOK: Illidan
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This was not over. He would rally the defenses of the Black Temple. If need be, he could provide an anchor for the gateway himself. He could hold a way open by pure force of will if he had to. He was not going to fail now at this final hurdle.

He would strike at the heart of the Burning Legion, no matter what it cost.

M
aiev inspected the immense walls of the Black Temple. The fortress loomed over them, radiating terrible strength. Huge stone spikes emerged from the walls like blades thrusting at the sky.

Akama looked upon the structure as one dying of thirst in the desert might gaze upon a fountain of sparkling water. Hope and desperation warred in his eyes. He completely ignored the sights and sounds of the battle going on nearby. He had eyes only for the holy place itself.

Maiev could not ignore the war raging all around her. Already the combined forces of the Aldor and the Scryers had begun the assault that would provide cover for Akama's attempt to infiltrate the Black Temple.

Bitterness ate at her heart as the naaru Xi'ri wove spells of protection around her, Akama, and his new allies from Azeroth. The Sha'tar had not consented to aid her when she had gone after Illidan. Things might have turned out differently on the Hand of Gul'dan if they had. Her companions might still be alive.

Maiev glanced at the Azerothian adventurers. She sensed their power and their nervousness. They had been secretly aiding Akama for weeks, acting as his agents to perform missions he could not. Now they were preparing to strike at Illidan himself. The prospect of infiltrating the Black Temple excited and scared them. Maiev herself could barely wait for the naaru to finish weaving its spells. The hour of her vengeance was almost at hand. This time the Betrayer would not escape.

Nearby she sensed the terrible presence of demons. Their brimstone scent filled the air, along with the stink of burning flesh and opened entrails. Something in it stirred her to the core. This was the scent of a battle worth fighting in, a war for the fate of worlds.

She shaded her eyes and watched a company of Aldor rush by the glittering form of a naaru on their way to engage a force of batwinged demons. Spells blazed through the air; enchanted weapons bit home. The Illidari were pushed back. Spectators jeered from the walls of the Black Temple.

Overhead, huge nether drakes circled. A wing of them hurtled in, breathing clouds of devastating arcane magic. She stood on the open ground and defied them to hurt her. In her armor, she was all but invulnerable to their attacks. She felt the naaru's power complete its weave around her, setting the air to shimmer.

The earth shook as another wave of meteorites smashed home and another wave of infernals clambered from the craters they made. Dust devils arose over the site of the battle. A troop of riders charged past to enter the fray.

Akama gestured to her. “Now is the time, Maiev! Unleash your wrath!”

Maiev smiled as she raced forward. Behind her rushed Akama and his Azerothian allies and a strong force of Aldor and Scryers. Ahead she could see the seething mass of demons that filled the killing fields before the walls of the temple. Satyrs, felguard, and worse things charged to meet her. Exultant, she shouted, “I've waited for this moment for years. Illidan and his lapdogs will be destroyed!”

Ahead winged dreadlords emerged from the murk of battle. They towered above her, filled with fel power. She aimed her umbra crescent at the nearest and slashed through his flesh, cleaving off part of a wing and then a leg. The demon crashed to the ground, and she leapt upon his back and drove her blade so far through his spine that the point was buried in the earth.

As the demon's life ebbed away, she pulled her weapon clear and blinked herself behind another, calling on Elune to aid her as she smote the creature.

The air crackled with magical energy as Akama and his other allies unleashed a torrent of spells. The dreadlords and their lesser demons fell before the savage onslaught, but more and more entered the fray. Fel magic pulsed in the air as a portal opened nearby. A huge nathrezim emerged from it. She recognized his massive crimson form. It was Vagath, one of the worst of the jailors Illidan had set for her. She remembered all his promises of torment. Somehow he had escaped the slaughter at her prison. She would ensure that he did not get away this time.

Akama bellowed, “Slay all who see us! Word must not get back to Illidan.”

Maiev sprang forward, lashing out at the nathrezim. They exchanged blows. Vagath was strong but Maiev was stronger. She drove her blade through the heavy armor encasing the dreadlord's chest. “Meet your end, demon!”

Vagath looked down in disbelief. Akama limped over to Maiev's side. Vagath fixed his gaze on the Ashtongue leader and, with his dying breath, said, “You've sealed your fate, Akama. The master will learn of your betrayal!”

Akama shook his head. “Akama has no master, not anymore.”

As the words left his mouth the portal pulsed once more. A tidal wave of demons surged forth. The sight of them filled Maiev with terrible wrath. She threw herself among them, striking left and right, cleaving through them like the prow of a ship through the waves of a bloody sea.

The enemy closed in all around her, seeking to drag her down into their midst. Felsteel axes glanced off her armor. Demonic claws bit into her chest plate. She unleashed the full fury of her blade, knowing she needed to close the portal through which the demons poured or her mission would fail before it began.

Behind her she thought she heard Akama give the order to enter the Black Temple. It seemed she was going to have to close the portal alone.

—

V
ANDEL LOOKED OUT THROUGH
the murder hole deep within the walls of the Black Temple. He took a sip of the ethermead he had acquired from the blood elf revelers on the Grand Promenade. It tingled pleasantly on his tongue.

Another massive battle had erupted outside the gates. Glancing down, he saw a force of Scryers and Aldor charge into combat with the guardian demons.

Huge clouds of dust rose, obscuring the conflict. He caught glimpses of the battle through them. A blood elf warrior fell to a satyr. An Aldor priest blasted a felguard with the blinding power of the Light. There was something oddly thrilling about watching the fight, like having an arena seat for the end of the world.

He saw that the servants of the naaru appeared to be aiding a group of Broken—and could that be…Akama?

Rumor claimed that the old Broken had vanished, that he had gone over to the other side and was even now out there plotting the Black Temple's downfall with the leaders of the Aldor and the Scryers. It appeared that rumor was correct.

Small dribbles of rage erupted from the demon inside Vandel. Flickering memories of battles and kills came to him. He suppressed them easily enough.

Some anger remained when he watched the attacking forces gather. The fools. Did they not realize what was going on here? They thought they had come to attack the demon ruler of Outland. They had no clue.

Ah, but it was an easy enough mistake to make. Looking down at the bound demons defending the temple, Vandel could see how the invaders could think like that. Illidan had never taken any time to explain his purpose to anyone outside his immediate circle.

Not that it would have mattered. Most likely no one would have believed him if he had. They would simply have thought it was part of some cunning scheme. Perhaps it was. Even now, after all Vandel had seen, all he had done, and all he had been through, he was not sure of that.

Who really knew what went on in the Betrayer's mind? He took another sip of the ethermead and watched the pyrotechnic blast of spells claw away at the wards on the walls. How long would it be until the demon hunters were called upon to fight?

—

A
KAMA LED HIS SMALL
force toward the walls of the Temple of Karabor. In the distance Maiev battled to close the demonic portal. He prayed she was successful, at least for as long as it would take for him and his companions to enter the temple.

All around, demons made war with servants of the Light. Behind him, he sensed the heartbreaking presence of the naaru. It reminded him of all he had turned his back on when he had entered the Betrayer's service, all he had lost and hoped to regain.

He looked at the eager faces of his allies from Azeroth, the trusting expressions of his Broken bodyguards. He inspected the hollow places within himself where once fragments of his soul had been. He had not felt whole for so long. He would rather die than continue this way.

Which was good, because that was exactly what would happen if things went wrong. In fact, that would be the best thing that would happen.

Still, these last few moons the lord of Outland had been distracted, caught up in his mad, grandiose plan. If plan it was. Even now, Akama was not sure whether the Betrayer was serious about opening a gateway to Argus, or whether it was all part of some great deception. Since Illidan had used the capture of Maiev to conceal the opening of the gateway to Nathreza, Akama was not inclined to take anything he said on faith. Akama remembered all the Broken and draenei slain in the opening of that gateway, their souls consumed, and all the draenei souls that met the same fate in Auchindoun. He would allow no chance for Illidan to repeat those abominations.

Felsteel bars and wards protected the sewer outflow. Those were the least of the defenses. Far worse lay beyond. Akama wove the spell that would open the way, and stepped through.

Ahead lay the sewers of the Black Temple. The path led up through a long rocky defile and then emerged into a chamber full of elementals and naga. Somewhere in the distance, he heard the naga champion High Warlord Naj'entus's roar.

He hoped his people were ready.

—

A
S HIS SPIRIT HOVERED
over the pattern, Illidan became aware of a banging on the door of the sanctum and a female voice screaming for his attention. They were audible through the ears of his body, which lay beneath him. He let his spirit drop back into his flesh and surveyed his surroundings. He spoke the words of opening, and the seal on the entrance was removed.

Lady Malande stood before him, looking at the vast shape of the pattern with something like wonder in her eyes. “Lord Illidan,” she said. “An enemy force is within the gates. High Warlord Naj'entus has fallen at the entrance to the sewers. The enemy is on the move.”

It took Illidan a few moments to register her words. Naj'entus had been set along with a small army to watch over the sealed entrance to the sewers. Illidan had sent reinforcements. The naga champion and his forces should have been able to fend off a legion. Something had gone very badly wrong. Treachery. The temple had been betrayed from within. Perhaps it was the blood elves or Akama's people.

It looked as if time had run out. Illidan picked up the Skull of Gul'dan. Its smile mocked him once more. There was only one thing left to do. He would need the power of the soul siphon. There was still a use he could put it to.

M
aiev stood atop a mountain of demon corpses. Her breath thundered from her chest. The thrill of victory blazed within her heart. She had closed the portal and stopped the seemingly endless tide of demons. She only wished that there were more. She would have stacked their corpses as high as the walls and entered the temple that way instead of through the sewers as Akama had planned.

A huge surge of familiar energy pulsed deep within the temple.

No! She knew what that meant. She had felt its like before on the slopes of the Hand of Gul'dan. Somewhere within his fortress, Illidan was opening another portal, far greater than the one that Vagath had come through. Ominous energy filled the air as the rent in the fabric of reality widened. Perhaps the Betrayer was summoning some new demon from the depths of the Twisting Nether. Most likely he was planning on escape. She could not let that happen again. She needed to get inside the Black Temple now. She would end this thing today.

She used her power to blink swiftly across the battlefield and through the passageway into the sewers.

Illidan would not elude justice this time.

—

V
ANDEL WATCHED AS THE
silver-armored figure completed the slaughter of an army of demons. He recognized her from the tales he had heard of the battle at the Hand of Gul'dan. Maiev Shadowsong was loose. That should not have been possible. She was bound in Warden's Cage, guarded by demons, rings of terrible warding spells woven around her. Akama must have freed her.

Come to me now, my demon hunters.

The voice echoed within Vandel's head. It was a summoning on a primal level. It vibrated through his tattoos and bored into his brain with a compulsion that was all but irresistible. Along with the summons came the knowledge of where he had to go, a place deep within the fortress, close to the council chamber.

He pulled himself away from the viewpoint in the wall and raced toward the distant stairwell.

All around him, he could see the signs of activity. Troops ran to defensive positions. Horns sounded and drums rumbled in the depths. These were warning signs. Somewhere the temple defenses had been breached.

He heard the sounds of combat in the distance. The demon urged him to race toward it, to take part in the killing, to reap souls.

Come to me now, my demon hunters.

Once again the command rang out. This time he felt it shivering through his very bones. Was this how a demon felt when it was summoned from the Twisting Nether? Drawn and compelled by forces it did not understand but struggled to resist?

Why was he even resisting? The voice was Illidan's and it contained such urgency that Vandel almost wept. Somewhere deep within the temple, potent energies stirred. Vandel recognized them. A gate was being opened, but to where, he could not tell.

Did Illidan plan an escape? Or was the opening created by his enemies? Perhaps traitors within the fortress were summoning aid from elsewhere. Perhaps Illidan himself had opened the portal. The energies of this gate felt very much like those of the one that had led to Nathreza. Had Illidan finally opened the path to Argus? There was only one way Vandel was going to find out.

Somewhere in the darkness, he sensed other demon hunters moving, felt the presence of their inner demons. He cursed. It seemed that his curiosity about the attack had put him the farthest away from their master. He leapt as he reached the top of the stairs.

Come to me now, my demon hunters.
The voice boomed within his skull like the tolling of a great bell; then its echoes slowly died away, leaving him feeling alone. The sense of a summoning deep within the temple intensified. The way to somewhere else lay open, but he knew beyond a shadow of a doubt that it would soon close and that any chance of him reaching the portal would be gone.

He took the stairs ten at a time, bounding down them with the agility of a panther, tumbling headlong, rolling to his feet, taking advantage of the force of gravity to increase his velocity. Urgency burned within his brain, compelled him to rush. It was not just fear. Not just the sense that the temple was on the verge of falling. It was an overwhelming feeling that if he failed to answer the summons, he would regret it forever, that somehow he would not achieve his destiny.

He raced on toward the training grounds. Outside the doorway, he heard the gigantic, angry roar of Supremus, as if the abyssal was engaged in combat with some mighty foe.

Dragons flashed by overhead. Spells erupted. Demons moved toward the Sanctuary of Shadows, as if they were preparing to block the path of powerful intruders. All was confusion.

—

M
AIEV EMERGED FROM THE
sewers into the aftermath of a terrible battle.

She stood in a huge courtyard. The corpse of a nether drake lay on the ground near her, its tail still twitching as if the great reptile had not yet realized it was dead. Akama and his allies had carved their way through Illidan's defenses. Hundreds more corpses of Dragonmaw orcs and demons lay strewn across the ground. Potent magic had been unleashed here. Off to her right stood gigantic siege engines. Beyond them was a stairway fit for a titan. It led into the depths of the Black Temple.

Still she sensed the pulse of that great portal being opened. She glared around her, and her eyes caught sight of something startlingly strange. A demonic figure erupted from an archway in the wall on her left.

—

V
ANDEL RACED FROM THE
stairwell into the training courtyard. The air stank of death and unleashed magic. Dead dragons and demons lay everywhere. The corpses of fel orcs lay piled in small hills. What had once seemed an invincible force had been defeated. Only one living thing moved in the aftermath of the awesome violence, a silver-armored night elf with a curved blade. Her entire body was shrouded by powerful magical armor. It was Maiev Shadowsong. Somehow she had managed to get into the temple as swiftly as he had gotten down from the walls. There was magic at work here.

Maiev stared at him and raised her blade as if ready to attack.

Vandel froze. He did not wish to fight a fellow night elf. He wanted only to get past her and answer Illidan's summons.

“Demon spawn, prepare to die,” Maiev said. Suddenly she was no longer where she had been. Vandel sensed a disturbance behind him and threw himself forward, rolling as a blade cleft the air where his head had been. He tumbled to his feet, facing Maiev.

“I do not want to fight you,” he said.

—

M
AIEV CURSED.
I
T HAD
been a long time since anyone had avoided one of her death strikes. It should not have been possible yet this foul monstrosity had done so. A mark of how potent he was.

Maiev studied the thing. He looked in some ways like Illidan, although less monstrous. He was tall, a whipcord-thin abomination that had once been a kaldorei. He had tattoos like his master. His skin was scaly. His eye sockets were empty except for the molten green light of fel magic. He lacked wings and hooves, but there was something undeniably demonic about him. He had once been an elf, but now he was something else, a dreadful hybrid of elf and demon, doubtless one of the army of horrors that Akama had spoken of.

Maiev aimed her blade at the monster. The demonically possessed elf leapt above the weapon. As she turned to strike at him again, he jumped to one side and once more eluded her.

“Stop. There is no need for this,” he said.

She heard the grating anger in his voice, though, and was not about to fall for his trickery. She advanced upon him, her blade held at the ready. “I will have your life, monster.”

—

T
HE TERRIBLE WEAPON SWEPT
toward Vandel once more. He sprang over it, flipped himself clean over Maiev, and landed behind her. He had a clear shot with a spell at her back. He hesitated for a moment as she turned to face him.

“I am not your enemy,” he said. Her umbra crescent licked out again. Sparks flickered as he parried it. “We are on the same side, you and I.”

Maiev paused. Her cold laughter rang through the war-ravaged courtyard. “You serve Illidan. I mean to kill him. Of course we are not on the same side.”

“I am here to fight the Burning Legion, not other night elves.”

The point of the umbra crescent began to move from side to side, hypnotically. Vandel took a step back to give himself more room. “You have fallen for Illidan's old lie,” Maiev said.

“It is not a lie. I have slaughtered demons by the hundred. I will slay more for as long as there is breath in me.”

“That will not be for much longer.” Maiev lunged, quick as a nightsaber. Vandel sprang clear and her blade passed through the spot where he had just stood. He fought down the urge to riposte. His demon urged him to attack. With an effort of will, he restrained himself.

“The Burning Legion seeks to destroy all who live. We need to stand united against it,” he said.

“You will be united with your demon master in death.” Maiev's strike was like a thunderbolt. Vandel hurled himself backward but it caught his cheek, slicing it open. Blood ran down over his lips. It tingled on his tongue.

Vandel had had enough. He had tried reasoning with Maiev. He could try running but he doubted he would get far with his back to her. She was too strong and too fast. He needed to face her.

You need to kill her,
said the demonic voice in the back of his mind.
It is you or her. She will not let you live.

Vandel would have liked to deny it, but he knew the demon was speaking the truth, and that lent its argument force. He summoned fel energy and sent a bolt racing toward the night elf. She parried, dissipating it effortlessly. Vandel doubted anyone save Illidan or his highest lieutenants could have managed that feat. He realized that the objective here was not going to be killing Maiev. It was going to be staying alive in the face of her fury.

—

M
AIEV'S EYES NARROWED.
S
O
the demon's true colors were revealed now. He had attempted to strike her down with his fel magic. For a moment she had almost believed the monster's protestations. He had sounded sincere and had made no attempt to harm her, only to defend himself.

In the distance the summoning reached a crescendo. Her prey was going to escape. It was time to end this. She launched a ferocious physical attack on the altered elf. Her blade flashed almost too fast for the eyes to follow. Her assailant raised his blades to parry.

—

V
ANDEL DANCED THROUGH A
razor-edged whirlwind. It was all he could do to keep out of the way of Maiev's strikes. There was no chance of launching an attack of his own. She was simply too fast and too strong.

Already his muscles ached from parrying the fury of her assault. It felt as if his arms were going to be torn from their sockets simply from the effort of blocking her attacks. He could barely maintain the grip on his blades.

He backpedaled away from her as fast as he could. He was not worried about tripping over anything. His spectral senses allowed him to perceive everything around him. They also told him that he was running out of time. The demon within him howled its protests. It did not want to escape. It wanted to fight and kill. He allowed its power to flow into him. From the pores of his skin, darkness flowed, armoring his body with shadow. His arms grew stronger. His movements grew faster. He matched Maiev blow for blow, turning her blade with one of his, lashing out with the other. Metal shrieked as his weapon clawed its way along the vambrace of her armor.

He struck again and again, driving the warden back first one step and then another until he had regained all the ground he had lost to her initial attack. Maiev slashed at him and he leapt above her blade, bringing his dagger down on her helmet and knocking her off balance. As she fell, he aimed a bolt of fel energy at her. It ravened into her chest. The demon urged him on.
Kill her. Kill her.

BOOK: Illidan
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