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DON’T MISS THESE OTHER TALES IN THE

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WAR OF THE ANCIENTS: BOOK ONE—THE WELL OF ETERNITY

by Richard A. Knaak

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by Richard A. Knaak

DAY OF THE DRAGON

by Richard A. Knaak

LORD OF THE CLANS

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THE LAST GUARDIAN

by Jeff Grubb

TABLE OF CONTENTS

Maps of Northrend

Part IV

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Notes

Further Reading

The Battle Rages On

About the Author

PART IV

ONE

UNDEATH IN THE SKY

As Malygos dived in what he—and thus Kalec—knew to be a futile attempt to warn those below, the proto-dragon tried to think of what could be done to avoid the disaster looming. Tried and failed.

The catastrophic scene in which Malygos found himself was even worse than Kalec and he imagined. Above a suddenly scattering legion, the undead spread out with a precision their mindless forms were clearly incapable of on their own. Galakrond controlled them all, even from a distance.

Malygos searched the front of the growing disarray and saw to his shock that Talonixa and her closest followers did not yet know of the catastrophe developing behind them. Talonixa herself flew with utter confidence, and Malygos, very familiar with the arrogant female, had no doubt that she still exalted her cleverness. Big Galakrond might be, but proto-dragons had taken down larger prey than themselves by working together. Galakrond was just very large prey. All Talonixa’s followers had to do was stay clear of his jaws, and they would eventually slay him. True, several of the others might perish accomplishing that feat, but as Talonixa no doubt did not think she would be one of those, the great golden female was willing to accept the sacrifices.

But before Malygos could fly within calling distance, the rising hisses and roars from behind Talonixa at last shattered her reverie. With a reprimanding expression on her face, she looked over her shoulder, just as the shriveled corpse of a proto-dragon of a hue that had once matched her own attacked.

Surprise did not keep Talonixa from reacting. She exhaled immediately. The lightning bolt burst through the undead’s dry hide, the cadaverous body exploding into flames.

Twisting, Talonixa evaded the fragments, and in doing so, she found herself facing the collapse of her great charge. Curiously, her gaze cut through the chaos to fix upon the swiftly approaching Malygos. The glare she gave him almost made it appear to both Kalec and his host that the female blamed Malygos for all this.

“Beware!” Neltharion shouted, barreling past his friend. Two undead just dropping down upon Malygos from the side collided with the charcoal-gray male. Roaring cheerfully, Neltharion ripped through one undead, sending the pieces scattering, then exhaled on the second. The shock wave he emitted literally shook the corpse apart.

But for all the ease with which both these and the one attacking Talonixa perished, there appeared to Malygos to be far too many of the not-living in the sky, and surprise had given them a savage advantage. Neither Kalec nor his host could imagine that Galakrond still completely controlled his cadaverous servants. Now they simply followed the one urge remaining in them: to engulf the living.

A brown female, turning too late, became caught in the clutches of a blackened corpse that then exhaled on her. Thick green fumes enveloped the female’s head and throat. She shrieked as the affected flesh dried and crumbled. Her anguished cry became a fading gurgle as her head first dropped to the side, then broke off. Even this did not stop the undead, which then began with its teeth to rip apart the bloody area at the base of the neck and swallow large gobbets of still-warm flesh.

To Malygos’s far right, two undead caught a fire-orange male between them. The male let loose with a brief blast of flame, which set one of the undead ablaze. Unfortunately, it was not enough to keep that corpse from continuing its own assault, forcing the flames on the male even as the second undead snapped at his neck from the opposite direction.

Malygos raced to aid the other male, but before he could reach the battling trio, the flames from the burning corpse spread to the living proto-dragon and his other foe. Trapped within the fire, the male succumbed quickly.

Outraged at his own failure, Malygos ignored the risk to himself and joined the fray. He exhaled on the undead’s victim, with the faint hope that the other male still lived urging him to cover the trio with his icy breath.

His impetuous attack only served to smother many of the flames eating at the undead, enabling them now to turn on Malygos. Realizing his mistake, Kalec’s host raised his hind paws and ripped at the wings of the nearest, even as it opened wide its withered maw. The dry, scorched wings readily tore, sending the undead falling before it could unleash a blast of the sinister, decaying gas.

The body of the fire-orange male also dropped as the second undead focused entirely on Malygos. Yet barely had it done so when another familiar form came in from behind and ripped through the animated corpse’s back. Nozdormu gave Malygos a short nod before moving on.

Kalec knew that Malygos could have dealt with the second undead, but the timely act by Nozdormu freed his host for what they and the other male knew was a priority. Malygos continued on down to Talonixa, who hovered in place, blasting at one rotting figure after another.

“Must beware!” he roared. “Galakrond does this! Galakrond does this!”

Talonixa managed to sneer at him even as she exhaled again. Another corpse exploded. “Galakrond still dies!” she declared. “He still dies!”

Kalec had never seen true madness in a proto-dragon before, but he could describe the intimidating female’s attitude as only that, and Malygos’s opinion leaned in that same direction. Talonixa could see nothing but her imminent triumph. The attack by the undead was, to her, simply a delay.

As if to emphasize this, Talonixa utterly dismissed Malygos from her attention and darted up to seize a foe that had just finished biting through the throat of a smaller male. Talonixa first ripped off the wings and then, for good measure, clamped her mouth around the rotting jaws and pulled the head from the top of the neck with little effort. She almost seemed to revel in her act, which to Malygos was an unnecessary waste of precious time.

In frustration, he looked in search of Neltharion and instead noticed Ysera moving on from the struggle. After a moment, Malygos realized what Kalec had known immediately: Ysera was headed in the direction of Galakrond.

With an aggravated hiss, Malygos raced after her. Of Alexstrasza there was no sign, but neither Kalec nor Malygos expected that Ysera had left her sister in danger. Indeed, Alexstrasza would have been in more trouble if she had also to concern herself with the nearby presence of the weaker Ysera. Unfortunately, that meant Alexstrasza was ignorant of what her sibling intended.

Ysera sought to speak peace with Galakrond.

Reason demanded that Malygos leave her to her fate, but loyalty urged him on. Wings beating hard, he began to catch up to the smaller sister. Malygos knew that he still did not fly fast enough. Galakrond was surely near and drawing nearer. He had to know that his creatures had done their work and that bedlam reigned. And while several proto-dragons had perished, there were many, many more left to feed Galakrond’s tremendous appetite.

And this was the monster Ysera sought to reason with.

Kalec urged his host forward, even though Malygos not only could not hear him but also was going as fast as possible. Ahead of them, Ysera vanished over a low rise, and when Malygos reached that same point, he discovered her trail suddenly gone.

The male paused in confusion and then saw Ysera darting around another low hill. Relief combined with the fear that she was nearing her goal and thus soon to face the same fate as Coros. Malygos pushed hard, but now the gap did not close.

To both Kalec’s and Malygos’s surprise, Galakrond still did not appear. While in one obvious way that was to Malygos’s benefit, in another it did not bode well. The gargantuan proto-dragon would certainly not have abandoned his plan at this point.

Whatever the reason for Galakrond’s absence, Malygos knew that he could not count on it for very long. Unable to catch up to Ysera, he finally dared call out to her.

And no sooner had Malygos done so than the ground ahead erupted. Yet here was no place of volcanic pits. The ground in this region was rocky, uneven. . . .

Kalec once more recognized what it took the young Malygos a moment more to understand. The landscape was rocky and uneven for one very good reason: Galakrond had burrowed deep—no doubt beginning from some more distant cavern—and had secreted himself just below the surface, waiting.

He waited no longer.

Tons of rock and dirt flew up as the malformed leviathan burst free. Malygos gazed at Galakrond with new dismay; not only was he larger, but he was also more misshapen. His entire body was covered in growths, some of them simply lumps, others fully formed parts. Many of the latter twitched. Eyes surveyed the world in every direction, but most fixed upon the tiny figure now heading directly toward Galakrond.

But another proto-dragon, sleek and fire-orange, suddenly dived from above and seized Ysera just as Galakrond took a snap at the yellowish female. Alexstrasza, her sides heaving from effort, continued to push her sister farther and farther from Galakrond.

The behemoth turned after the sisters, in the process shaking more stone and dirt from his gigantic body. Malygos and Kalec both knew that in rising now, Galakrond would be visible to Talonixa and the rest, assuming that the defenders had any chance to pay mind to anything other than the undead. Galakrond obviously had planned to fall upon the embattled proto-dragons, but at the moment, his attention was taken by Ysera’s seemingly suicidal act.

Galakrond left a wide valley where once there had been a shallow cavern. As he took to the air, a rain of fragments battered the ground in his wake.

Malygos hesitated. Ysera and Alexstrasza were in desperate straits, but this was the one opportunity to try to save those under assault. Not for the first time, loyalty struggled with other considerations.

This time, those other considerations won. The fate of many was in the balance, as opposed to that of the two sisters. Malygos turned around.

He found Neltharion and Nozdormu closing with him. The pair hovered as he neared, Neltharion looking perplexed and Nozdormu looking contemplative.

“The not-living!” Malygos called. “Must destroy them now! Quickly!”

If it involved a fight, Neltharion was all for it. Nozdormu mulled it over for a second, then responded, “Yes. Must be now.”

Malygos led them back. Kalec was nearly overwhelmed by the thoughts racing through the supposedly primitive mind of his host. More than ever, Kalec saw the Malygos to come, the planner and calculator. Malygos thought of and discarded more than half a dozen viable plans before the trio reached the chaos, and only made his final choice when he could think of nothing better to do.

A quick glance at the battle verified what the icy-blue male had assumed. There was no visible sign of any remaining control on Galakrond’s part. The undead attacked with the relentless urge with which Kalec was familiar. There was no coordination, not even as much as when Malygos had left.

“Come!” he roared to his two companions. “Fly high! Lead others to the clouds!”

As they obeyed, Malygos veered off toward another male proto-dragon. Malygos slammed into an undead with which the other male was fighting, then had the rescued proto-dragon join him. The pair successively freed a third and a fourth proto-dragon—females—from the struggle.

Malygos shouted, “Tell all, fly high! Fly into clouds until almost top, then fly north ten beats! Drop!”

The rest soared away, shrieking for all to hear as they separated. Within seconds, living proto-dragons everywhere began to head up into the clouds. Close behind came the hungry corpses. A few proto-dragons did not make good their escape, but there was nothing Malygos could do but hope that their losses would mean that others would arrive at the clouds.

There were some proto-dragons who did not fly as Malygos suggested. Far in the distance, Talonixa hesitated, her chief followers awaiting her decision despite the precarious circumstances. She glared at another proto-dragon who approached her and who, by her gesture upward with one wing, was clearly informing the lead female of Malygos’s suggestion. However, after scanning the chaos one more time, Talonixa let out a commanding bellow and soared after the rest of the defenders.

Seeing that there was no more that could be done below, Malygos himself surged into the clouds. He estimated the pace of the defenders as a whole and thought he had guessed correctly. Kalec could find no major fault with Malygos’s estimates, although they would certainly not be perfect.

Another live proto-dragon flew past Malygos. Three wing beats later, the other flier dived. Malygos counted his own tenth beat, then did the same.

As he broke out of the bottom of the cloud cover, Kalec’s host saw that a good many survivors were in the process of following suit. A few of the undead still hovered among them, but proto-dragons led by Neltharion were making short work of them. That had not been part of Malygos’s plan, but Neltharion’s effort only increased the chances of success.

The moment he was far enough below the clouds, Malygos roared loudly. He had the attention of nearly all those gathered. Without another word, he faced the clouds above and opened his maw wide. He took one more quick glance at the others. Both Malygos and Kalec were pleased to see understanding spread across the rows.

Another proto-dragon dropped out of the clouds, but this one was skeletal and had vacant though somehow still hungry eyes.

Malygos exhaled as hard as he could, aiming foremost for the wings. As he had hoped, the stiffening appendages sent his would-be attacker hurtling to the ground.

All around, other defenders struck as soon as an undead reappeared. Malygos had turned Galakrond’s original plan around to his advantage. Without Galakrond, the undead could only follow their urge, which meant that they could not understand that a trap had been set. They chased their prey into the clouds, then followed back down, but more slowly.

This time prepared for attackers above, the waiting proto-dragons decimated the unliving. The defenders exerted themselves as much as they could, amplifying their attacks. Columns of sand, spouts of water, plumes of flame, and other proto-dragon weapons shattered the dry, emaciated forms.

Despite incurring terrible damage, some undead managed to evade complete destruction long enough to attack. But as they did, Neltharion led those who had earlier followed him into a new assault on the remaining corpses. Malygos observed this out of the corner of his eye, even as he took on another undead. Kalec’s host first focused on the head and then, before his horrific foe recovered, bit through the neck.

As Malygos let the pieces fall their separate ways, Kalec sensed the insidious urge filling the young proto-dragon. Malygos quickly fought it down again. Still, Kalec could feel how much the effort cost Malygos and knew that if something did not happen soon, the proto-dragon might yet succumb.

Victorious roars began to resound through the ranks of the survivors. Talonixa’s roar was loudest of all, as if she were the one who had brought about this triumph. Malygos snarled, wondering how they could not see past this moment. Nothing had been won but a reprieve. Indeed, if not for Ysera’s foolhardy act—

Kalec’s host hissed. The sisters were probably dead now, and Malygos felt in great part responsible. Even though he knew that they would have expected him to do as he had, the deep regret still remained.

Nozdormu rose before him. “Good plan! Quick! Done well!” The other male’s exuberance faded. “But Talonixa claims victory is hers!”

Much to Malygos’s surprise, not only did Nozdormu speak the truth, but also many of the other proto-dragons appeared to believe her. More and more began flocking near her, the golden female’s grand and reckless crusade taking shape despite Malygos’s disbelief.

“No!” he cried, streaking down toward Talonixa. “No! This is not right—”

Her eyes disdainful, Talonixa opened her mouth wide.

Even though Malygos instantly understood what she intended, and moved to evade, the bolt still struck him almost squarely. His entire body shook, and both he and Kalec suffered incredible torment. Blackness nearly overtook them, but Kalec knew it was not the same blackness that meant a return to his own body and the present. With Malygos, he spiraled to his doom, half aware through the entire drop that he could do nothing to stop the end.

Claws suddenly dug deep into his hind legs. The pain was minor in comparison with the shock from the bolt, but it served to give Kalec and his host something else to focus on. They felt their descent slow, and as it did, consciousness began to take a better hold.

It was not Nozdormu, as might have been expected, but rather Neltharion. For a change, the charcoal-gray male did not have a cheerful expression. Fury filled Neltharion’s countenance, and for a moment, it unnerved even Malygos and especially Kalec, who caught a brief glimpse of something akin to the future Deathwing.

“Foul female!” Neltharion roared. “Saw that! She will pay!”

“No . . .” Malygos croaked. “Must . . . must all be one! Must . . . to survive—”

Talonixa’s roar cut through Malygos’s words. As Kalec’s host flapped his wings and righted himself, Neltharion finally released his hold. Both gazed upon the re-formed legion, which to Kalec’s observance was a quarter less than it had been. Malygos noted that also. If there was any hope, he had to find a way to make a workable alliance with Talonixa. Only then would the proto-dragons have a chance of—

Galakrond’s roar thundered across the sky.

Talonixa answered, her savage cry sounding meager and weak to Kalec and Malygos. She roared again, and this time, the other proto-dragons behind her joined in. To their credit, while they did not shake the heavens as Galakrond had, their united challenge was very impressive.

The horizon in the direction from which the great roar had come seemed to swell. The swelling grew and then separated from the ground. As it did, the shape of a huge proto-dragon coalesced.

Galakrond again issued his challenge. The gathered defenders answered in kind.

“Must not—”

Before Malygos could finish what he wanted to say, the vision shifted. The shift caught Kalec by surprise, more so because it had clearly been only a matter of moments.

But those few moments left him now in the middle of the savage struggle against Galakrond.

The titanic fiend hovered, surrounded by darting proto-dragons that to Kalec’s eye seemed more like mosquitoes in comparison. They veered around, below, and above Galakrond, striking with a barrage of attacks that stunned Kalec with both their intensity and their variety. Acidic burns and scorch marks already dotted the enormous torso, and several of the extra limbs either hung limply or had been ripped apart. Kalec watched through Malygos’s eyes as a brown-and-black female rushed in, seized a flailing hind leg in her jaws, and bit through flesh and bone. She quickly turned off again, taking with her all but a bloody stump.

Talonixa and her most trusted companions assailed the head, their withering attack forcing Galakrond to keep his gaze downward. The golden female let loose with a powerful bolt that left a blackened mark just above one of the leviathan’s original eyes.

Kalec watched with awe. Galakrond was at bay. Here was the end to the gargantuan fiend.

But this place is wrong! Kalec realized. This is not where the bones rest! What could—

It only occurred to him then that despite his close proximity to the battle, Malygos was not part of it. Neither were Nozdormu and Neltharion. Their hesitation made Kalec turn to Malygos’s thoughts, something he had not done in the face of such a spectacle.

And there Kalec saw that what he believed to be an imminent victory was anything but. With Malygos’s mind to guide him, Kalec realized that all the wounds, all the damage to body and limbs, none of those slowed Galakrond in the least. As many as they were, the wounds were merely annoyances. Kalec’s initial impression of the defenders as seeming like mosquitoes was still closer to the truth.

“Well?” Neltharion rumbled, ever the most impatient.

“The eyes,” Malygos murmured. To Nozdormu, he repeated, “The eyes . . .”

“The eyes . . .” the brown proto-dragon agreed.

Kalec thought that they meant to attack Galakrond’s two mammoth eyes, but the tension he felt overtaking Malygos warned him that the three were concerned with something far more dire. Kalec focused carefully on what Malygos observed, understanding only now that he might visually see the same things as his host, but he did not always comprehend matters as Malygos did.

His host and the others were concentrating not on Galakrond’s original eyes but on all those additional ones the trio could see from their vantage point. Those eyes, Kalec realized, moved as if mad at first glance. They looked up, rolled around, gazed down. . . .

If not for what Malygos had already deciphered, it would have taken Kalec longer to understand that these other orbs moved with purpose. Each eye was fixed on one thing and one thing alone.

Each eye was focused on a particular proto-dragon. Galakrond was not at bay. He was merely waiting.

TWO

DOOM

Jaina sensed someone seeking her the moment she returned to her sanctum. Unfortunately, that someone was none other than Archmage Modera. Modera was one of those Jaina most respected and admired among the magi. She had become a member of the Council of Six long before Jaina—during the Second War, in fact—and many were the times the younger archmage had turned to Modera for guidance in one subject or another.

Instead, Jaina now concentrated on cloaking herself with a spell she hoped would keep her from even Modera’s notice.

“Archmage?” the other woman called from outside. That Modera had come in person meant that she had already attempted to locate Jaina by magical means and had not been pleased by her failure. Jaina had not given any official notice of her need to depart the city, and as leader, she should have at least informed the rest of the Council of Six. Modera was rightly interested in finding her, but even that did not dissuade Jaina from keeping herself hidden . . . if possible.

“Archmage?” Modera repeated more firmly. “Forgive me. Are you within?”

It could not be as simple as the elder woman giving up when she did not receive an answer, Jaina noted, for only a breath later, she felt the casting of a subtle spell outside the door. Jaina, planted against one wall just beyond the entrance, watched as a transparent form materialized near her.

“Jaina?” The figure coalesced into the image of Modera. Although much older chronologically than Dalaran’s leader, she still appeared as a handsome woman with snowy white hair bound in a braid. The image peered around, obviously seeking the sanctum’s owner. “Forgive this intrusion. I really must speak with you.”

It said something about the urgency of whatever situation concerned Modera that she would enter Jaina’s chambers uninvited, even through illusion. Jaina found no fault with the action, although she did vow that if things normalized, she would strengthen her wards. Clearly, Modera was more powerful than even Jaina had taken her for.

The other archmage frowned. She already faced slightly toward where Jaina stood but suddenly looked directly at the blond woman.

Just as Jaina was certain that Modera had sensed her, the elder spellcaster turned her head to the opposing wall, eyeing it much the way she had done where Dalaran’s leader hid.

“Where is she?” Modera murmured, looking more pensive. “Where could she have gone at a time like this?”

Her last question almost made Jaina reveal herself, but then Kalec’s exhausted face formed again in her thoughts. Jaina’s resolve strengthened, even though a part of her knew that she was choosing emotion over sense.

Modera’s ghostly image looked over her shoulder, as if listening to some other specter yet unseen. “Very well,” the older archmage muttered to the air. “I will see you shortly. We will have to consider a different course of action.”

Turning back to the seemingly empty chamber, Modera raised one hand and began writing in the air. Runes flared before her.

Please see me the moment you return. . . . It is urgent. . . .

Modera left the words floating in the chamber. She looked around one last time—her eyes only briefly passing over Jaina—then simply dissipated.

Jaina waited a moment longer, until all trace of Modera’s presence had faded into the distance. The younger archmage exhaled as she reappeared. She stared at the floating message, swearing to find out what Modera wanted as soon as she had assured herself of Kalec’s survival.

Returning to her collection, Jaina sought out the tome she needed. That proved more troublesome than the spellcaster had thought; the volume Jaina expected to hold the answers was apparently the wrong one, even though she was certain of her memory. The archmage set the book aside, then thumbed through another that she recalled had some associated information.

But yet again, her memory contradicted what she discovered in the book. She set the second volume down, then eyed the two tomes lying side by side.

Holding a hand over each book, Jaina concentrated. A white glow surrounded both hands and spread to the two volumes.

The glow was met by a lavender haze surrounding each book. Jaina gasped; she could not say how she knew, but she could tell that what enveloped the tomes was some very old, very subtle spell. It was meant to keep something hidden, presumably the very information the archmage sought. However, Jaina also sensed a fraying in the spell, as if after so much time, the original intent of the casting had begun to be lost.

The original intent was lost. . . . Jaina could not help but think that this was also the key to what was happening to Kalec. The artifact had been created with some purpose in mind, but she wondered if the exact focus of that purpose had faded with the fraying.

It also interested her that these books, clearly written long after the artifact’s creation, should react to her so precisely. Somehow the ancient magic had detected her intentions, which meant spellwork of the highest skill.

But who would have not only the ability but also the cunning to track down these tomes . . . and over such a span of time? Jaina knew that there were, of course, mundane possibilities—such as the high elves—but for some reason, this spellwork did not feel like their work. In fact, it had a feel to it much older than even that venerable race.

Her brow wrinkled. She withdrew her hands from the two volumes. Their glow instantly vanished. The archmage eyed her collection, then hesitantly cast a more generalized version of her spell over the rows of tomes and scrolls.

Not entirely to her surprise, every piece in her collection glowed lavender.

Jaina immediately delved deeper into the spellwork. As she had begun to suspect, the casting included what she thought of as an infection subspell. If there was an object of similar tendencies nearby—in this case, a book of magic next to another book of magic—the original spell would spread to that other object. To do it so thoroughly, so successfully, was yet again a sign of how adept the caster had been.

Dismissing her own work, Jaina carefully thumbed through one of the two books. With her expert memory, the archmage verified that everything she expected to find remained where it should have been. As best as she could establish, the spell had changed nothing else. Only what Jaina sought appeared to be affected.

The archmage was not daunted. She had confronted complicated and confounding puzzles of a magical nature before and solved them. She would let no spell defeat her.

More to the point, Kalec was at stake. To Jaina, nothing else mattered.

•   •   •

Galakrond remained under heavy assault. A female of Malygos’s family exhaled on one of the extra hind limbs, then tore off the frozen appendage before it could warm up again. Another female of a silver hue unleashed a shower of what appeared to Kalec to be steaming liquid metal. The blue column seared Galakrond’s thick hide, leaving a festering streak twice as wide as the proto-dragon who had breathed it. Two males a deep green in color used their larger-than-average hind paws to rake the base of the leviathan’s neck.

“It is nothing. . . .” Malygos growled. “It is all nothing. . . .”

“The eyes,” Neltharion suggested. “Strike when they follow away. Blind Galakrond eye after eye—”

Nozdormu snorted. “If this many eyes,” he responded, holding up one of his tiny forepaws, “we attack for more days than we have.”

The brown male had a very good, if demoralizing, point. With so many extra eyes, even if the trio managed to persuade the other attacking proto-dragons to follow through on such a plan, the time needed was surely far more than Galakrond intended to give them.

“Must warn Talonixa.” Even as Malygos said it, his certainty concerning the futility of trying once more to make the imposing female see sense touched Kalec. Yet Malygos saw no other chance but to try—

Next to him, Nozdormu let loose with a low warning hiss.

The many, many eyes had suddenly narrowed.

Despite being aware of what that might presage, Malygos nevertheless started for Talonixa. He did not get far.

Galakrond unleashed a roar that silenced all other proto-dragons and made the sky shake. Several attackers near the gargantuan fiend tumbled uncontrollably from his vicinity.

Galakrond exhaled, and the air everywhere filled with a foul mist that reminded the oncoming Malygos much too much of that “breathed” by the not-living. Kalec’s host recoiled as the mist rushed toward him. His wings beat hard as he fought to reverse direction before it was too late.

But the mist still caught Malygos. The proto-dragon and his unseen companion awaited the agony that would surely accompany the rotting of Malygos’s living flesh.

Instead, a powerful lethargy overtook the icy-blue male. It touched so deep that even Kalec’s thoughts were muddied. To Kalec, it was as if his very life was slowly seeping from him, and he vaguely noticed that Malygos felt the same.

Yet some part of the young proto-dragon continued to urge his wings to flap. Malygos exited the mist. The moment he did, both his mind and Kalec’s began to clear, and strength started to return. The feeling of utter listlessness dwindled.

Slow death . . . Malygos pondered as he tried to comprehend in simpler terms what Kalec recognized in more sophisticated ones. He breathes slow death. . . .

His thoughts finally clear enough, Malygos surveyed the horror unfolding before him. A great portion of Talonixa’s grand charge had been caught within the massive cloud exhaled by Galakrond. The behemoth’s countless eyes had been watching for one thing: the very moment when most of Galakrond’s foes would be within range of this new and horrific breath weapon.

Some of the stricken proto-dragons tried to turn and flee, while others simply fought to stay aloft. A few could not summon the will to keep their wings flapping and plunged to their doom.

But even in the midst of the cloying mist, some proto-dragons still managed more control. Chief among them was Talonixa, who appeared to Malygos to be suffering a different malady: the utter madness Kalec and his host had noted earlier. Talonixa roared over and over, perhaps in part, both Malygos and Kalec believed, to keep herself from falling prey to the mist. She moved not away from Galakrond but closer to him, challenging him as if the two were the same size and strength.

Galakrond laughed, the sound deafening. With a single beat of his wings, he cut the distance between them.

Talonixa opened her mouth wide, but this time, not a roar but a bolt of lightning issued forth. It struck Galakrond directly on the snout . . . and had as much effect of slowing or injuring him as a pebble might have.

Now it was the misshapen proto-dragon who opened his maw wide, a maw so great that the mighty Talonixa was but a fly in comparison. The jaws closed upon the female, even as she spun about in a futile attempt to escape.

The huge, sharp teeth caught Talonixa between them. Galakrond made no attempt to correct his bite. Rather, he shook his head back and forth, violently shaking his prey. Talonixa snapped in vain at the teeth and managed one more bolt, but to no avail. Her head quickly dropped, and her wings ceased beating. She still lived, but barely.

There was no help from those she had once led. The other proto-dragons could hardly keep in the air or protect themselves, much less come to her aid. Even had they wanted to, Kalec and his host knew that it was already too late. Blood spilled over Talonixa, and her breathing came in gasps.

Galakrond ceased shaking her. With barely any effort, he clamped down and bit Talonixa in half.

The still-twitching upper torso slowly tumbled out of sight, a shower of blood and other life fluids in its wake. With mock disdain, Galakrond unclenched his jaws just enough to let the rest of Talonixa fall free. He laughed then and, with a powerful beat of his wings, moved among the lethargic proto-dragons.

Mouth opening much wider, Galakrond began to feed.

His first victims scarcely seemed to notice their demise, so quickly did the horrific leviathan swallow them up. Five vanished in the space of a single breath. Galakrond barely paused, turning to take in three more a moment later.

“What can we do?” Neltharion growled in frustration. He looked nearly ready to try to defy the mist, despite the obvious result of doing so.

Malygos could not blame him for his rising exasperation. Wholesale death played out before them, and none of the three could offer any way to put an end to it—not, at least, without likely committing suicide in the process. Yet Kalec, feeling his host’s raging emotions and thoughts, knew that Malygos would have willingly sacrificed himself if it meant stopping the slaughter.

Then Malygos noticed something about the mist. He started forward. “Come!”

It said much to Kalec that the other two males obeyed. Malygos headed toward the mist, then abruptly rose. A faint, cloying scent infiltrated his nostrils, immediately causing a slight slowing of his thoughts.

The icy-blue male took an almost vertical shift in direction, rising several yards before daring to take even the briefest breath. When he did breathe, Malygos found no trace of the scent that pervaded Galakrond’s evil fog.

Adjusting to a more horizontal path of flight, Kalec’s host found the lack of scent continued. He now flew above the mist and its effects.

The other two males flanked him as he soared toward Galakrond. Intent on his feeding, the gargantuan proto-dragon failed to notice the tiny trio above. Even had he done so, it was doubtful that Galakrond would have seen them as anything but amusing. After all, what could three do that hundreds could not?

That was a question for which Malygos did not yet have an answer, even as the three reached a spot almost directly above the monster. He peered down at the terrifying tableau, watching as four more proto-dragons disappeared down Galakrond’s gullet.

“Mist dwindling above,” Nozdormu offered. “Too slow below, though.”

“Little wind,” Neltharion added, sniffing the air. “Not enough.”

Malygos continued to study Galakrond. The only real wind was that caused by the enormous wings. They were beginning to scatter the mist, but not soon enough to save the others.

A curious thought stirred in Malygos’s mind, one that caught Kalec by surprise. Malygos imagined himself when he hunted over the water and would dive with great velocity so as to strike deeper and seize the better prey lurking farther below. His eyes narrowed as he focused on Galakrond’s head.

“The head,” he muttered to his companions. “Breathe little, strike hard.”

Understanding dawned. Neltharion grinned, and Nozdormu nodded.

Satisfied that they knew what to do and that they also knew they might very well die in the attempt, Malygos arced down. As he descended, he beat his wings as hard as he could, pushing his velocity to its utmost. Below, Galakrond’s head appeared not only to swell in size but also to rush up to meet him.

Kalec also understood his host’s plan but had doubts regarding its merits. Still, there was nothing he could do but watch as Malygos reached Galakrond.

At the last moment, Malygos shifted so that his hind paws were underneath him. He pulled himself into a ball as much as possible, even folding his wings tight behind him. Out of the corner of his eye, Malygos saw Neltharion do the same.

In rapid succession, the three proto-dragons struck Galakrond hard on the head.

Malygos dared not hope to cause much, if any, damage to his target. There was only a very minor chance of that. What Kalec’s host did seek was exactly what he got.

He made Galakrond very angry.

The three proto-dragons striking so hard did induce some pain. Their velocity was also enough to shove Galakrond’s head down so that he missed swallowing two more victims. The shock of nearly being devoured finally stirred the pair to some effort of escape.

It was Neltharion who proved most decisive in causing Galakrond momentary distress. When his hind paws struck, they did so with a force only one of his family could create. Seismic waves shook the hard head, briefly making the behemoth disoriented, an added respite that Malygos could not have dreamed of gaining.

But Galakrond recovered too soon. No longer even caring about the pair slowly fleeing from him, he looked up. His wings beat wildly as his fury at actually being assaulted overtook him.

And as Malygos had hoped, the gigantic proto-dragon’s wings did what the weak wind could not. The mist that Galakrond had breathed dissipated rapidly around him.

Proto-dragons began to flee in earnest.

Galakrond did not at first notice that his prey had scattered, so outraged was he at the small foes above him. “Little bugs . . .” he rumbled, each word all but deafening the trio. “A meager meal you are . . . but a meal you are. . . .”

To the surprise of not only Galakrond but also Malygos and Nozdormu, Neltharion plunged toward the misshapen creature. While Galakrond sneered at his puny challenger, Neltharion changed direction and, instead of Galakrond’s snout, attacked the huge proto-dragon’s left eye.

In few other areas could the impetuous Neltharion have caused any actual harm. Even his previous strike had only irritated Galakrond. Yet now, opening his mouth wide, the charcoal-gray male erupted with a cry of sheer force.

Galakrond roared in what was no doubt the first true pain he had felt in some time. He shut the eye hit by Neltharion’s strike, and then, when that proved insufficient to put an end to his agony, he shut the other, too.

“Fly! Fly!” Malygos shouted to anyone who could hear, including Neltharion.

“But we have him!” his friend insisted. “We do!”

Galakrond opened his eyes. The left one was as red as blood, but it could still see as well as the other, and both glared at Neltharion with a rage such as Malygos and Kalec had not seen directed at even the icy-blue male.

Great jaws snapped at Neltharion, who barely evaded them. Nozdormu and Malygos came to the aid of their companion, aiming for the sensitive eyes. Galakrond instinctively looked down, making both of their attacks hit instead his thick, armored brow ridge.

But Malygos had not expected anything more than those results and knew that Nozdormu had thought the same. Once again, Galakrond had been distracted, this time saving not only Neltharion but also Malygos and Nozdormu. With Malygos in the lead, the three took to the higher sky and vanished into the cloud cover.

It did not take Galakrond’s fearsome roar to inform them that he pursued. The three glanced at one another, then split up.

Malygos pushed as high as he could. The thinner air made flying more difficult, but he hoped that would also make it troublesome for Galakrond to follow. The icy-blue male believed that his friends would do as he did. At the very least, the risk they took aided the survivors of Talonixa’s ill-fated plan.

Silence reigned. Struggling to maintain his position, Malygos looked over the clouds. There was no sign of any other proto-dragon, alive or not.

After all Malygos had been through already, the effort to stay aloft grew too taxing to bear. Listening carefully, Kalec’s host still heard nothing. He began to wonder if Galakrond had moved on.

It mattered not. Malygos finally had to descend. He planned to drop only as far as he needed to in order to breathe properly. From there, he would have to judge whether it was safe to continue on.

His heart pounded, both from the struggle for air and from the tension of keeping an eye and nose out for Galakrond. Kalec, experiencing the same, at times forgot that he was but a passenger. He tried to steer toward the east, only to be reminded that this was not his body when Malygos turned south instead, then dived a little farther.

The proto-dragon left the cloud cover. The area was empty. The rest of Talonixa’s followers had wisely fled as fast as they could.

But where, Malygos and Kalec wondered, were Neltharion and Nozdormu? Where, indeed, was Galakrond—

Something suddenly collided with Malygos from behind. The impact sent both him and the object hurtling toward the ground. He fought against the drop.

“No struggle! Galakrond close! No struggle!”

Malygos ceased struggling. He let himself be guided to just above the ground and toward a set of low hills.

Far above, Galakrond’s roar reverberated.

A few small caves appeared in the distance. Malygos’s companion led him into one.

They landed in semidarkness. Kalec’s host turned to face his rescuer. “Alexstrasza . . .”

The fire-orange female hissed quietly. “Galakrond hears well. Must speak softly.”

Before he could answer, he heard movement coming from deeper in the cave. Malygos looked there, expecting Alexstrasza’s sister to be joining them.

Instead, the withered, decaying visage of an undead filled his view.

THREE

UNDER THE SHADOW OF GALAKROND

Kalec shared Malygos’s consternation. He also shared his host’s decision to attack without hesitation. Malygos started to exhale—

“No!” Ysera collided with him from the side. Malygos’s frost shot deep into the cave.

The undead reached for him . . . or tried to. It also attempted to exhale in turn, but now Malygos saw that its mouth was bound by a strong vine found growing on rock faces in the vicinity. The paws were also bound. Proto-dragons as a species did not use tools of any sort; they had hardly been sentient long enough to develop such interests and in general did not even need them. However, Ysera had adapted quite well to finding a use for what Malygos would have considered food for some grazer.

As his eyes became better attuned to the fainter light, Malygos saw that this animated corpse had once had a hide the same brilliant color as that of Alexstrasza.

Clutch brother.

Before he could state what appeared obvious, Alexstrasza leaned near. “It is not him. We knew this one, but it is not our clutch brother.”

Ysera had already lost interest in Malygos, her focus on the undead. She guided the fiend back, all the while murmuring to it.

“Found her with one like this before,” Alexstrasza admitted. “Another of our family. She cannot find our clutch brother and so helps other family.”

Malygos had not given much thought to Ysera’s earlier obsession but now suspected that if she had not been able to find the remains, they had likely been dragged off by any number of scavengers or moved by the weather. It was still possible that he was now one of the not-living, but Kalec’s host very much doubted it.

All of that, of course, did not explain what Malygos saw here or how it happened to be so very near the site of Talonixa’s disastrous defeat.

Galakrond’s roar erupted once more. This time, though, it sounded farther away.

“The smell,” Alexstrasza explained. “The smell of the not-living smothers ours. Galakrond only smells death nearby.”

That, at least, answered one vital question for Malygos and Kalec. “But that is not why not-living is here.”

“No . . . I had a little hand in that,” another voice said.

Alexstrasza did not appear startled that there was a fifth figure in the cave, a fact made even more interesting by the speaker being none other than Tyr.

Something that did not surprise Malygos when he looked upon the cloaked and hooded form was that Tyr was now several feet taller than before and much wider. Even then, Malygos—and Kalec—could not help feeling that Tyr only wore this size because it was convenient for the moment. He still radiated a presence far greater than his current height indicated.

This is only a slight reflection of him, Kalec vaguely recalled. He struggled to remember more, but his own time had become fragments of scenes that were harder and harder to think of as fact. Jaina’s face was the strongest bond remaining, and on occasion, even she briefly faded from his mind.

He was interrupted in his attempt to strengthen his few memories by the undead’s muffled hiss. The animated corpse tried to move forward again, but Ysera blocked its path. She continued to speak quietly to the creature as if it were actually her missing clutch brother.

“She must give this up,” Malygos finally muttered.

“It helped draw her and, thus, her sister here,” Tyr remarked. “In that, her desire to save her missing sibling has merit. I had a different intention when I drew this creature to this cave early on, but fate appeared to have another purpose.”

“Saw it when we fled from Galakrond,” Alexstrasza added. “Ysera wanted to return to Galakrond. Wanted to try again to speak peace.” She peered at her sister and the undead. “Told her I saw our clutch brother. She believed. We followed to here.”

Tyr grunted. “It was a variation of my plan.” He did not bother to tell them what that variation was, even though the proto-dragons cocked their heads in confusion. “It saved your lives. Now we only have to figure out how to save the world.”

“Neltharion and Nozdormu . . .” Malygos muttered. “They are not saved.”

Alexstrasza’s eyes widened. In all the excitement concerning her sister, she had forgotten about the other two males. “Galakrond! Are they—”

“I do not know. We flew to the clouds. Split up. Saw nothing. Heard nothing.”

The urge to return to the outside and head off in search of the missing pair grew strong enough that Malygos took a step toward the entrance.

“Wait.” Tyr passed by both proto-dragons. He stepped up to the entrance but did not proceed. For a moment, the two-legged creature stared out into the open.

Alexstrasza used the delay to tell Malygos, “He came from nowhere. Said he knew you. Offered help.” She shook her head. “I believed all. Did not question Tyr.”

While Malygos was glad to hear that he would not have to explain or defend Tyr, that subject did not concern him so much at the moment. Instead, he could not help still being bothered by Ysera and her horrific charge. Alexstrasza’s sister went on speaking softly to the corpse.

“Tyr says let this be,” the fire-orange female muttered. “How long, not said.”

“Not good. Cannot stay here.”

They were interrupted by the return of Tyr. “Galakrond is still in the region, but he is taking a path to the southwest. If he keeps that direction, he’ll soon be far enough away that you can go in search of your comrades.”

Malygos snorted. “Will find them. What about her?”

Tyr followed his gaze to Ysera. “There is a facet to her that must be encouraged, must be explored. I feel that this is significant, if not for now, then for the future.”

“Hmmph!” The future was a concept only recently appreciated by Malygos and other proto-dragons, having once been creatures who had purely existed for the moment at hand. Now that concept seemed a very fragile one. “Galakrond may be the future.”

His remark did not appear to strike Tyr as dramatically as the proto-dragon thought. Instead of solemnly nodding, Tyr smiled slightly. “I think I’ve finally chosen well.”

The comment both mystified and infuriated Kalec’s host. “Riddles! Wingless Tyr talks riddles! Proto-dragons dying!”

“And no one knows that better than I,” the two-legged being answered, much too calmly for Malygos’s taste. “No one feels more responsible than I. I should have watched. I knew the others were beyond caring. I should have watched . . . but even I grew distracted.”

The animated corpse chose that moment to begin a new tirade. Why it had been stirred up was quickly apparent. Ysera had dared to undo the mouth. What she hoped to accomplish, neither Malygos nor Kalec could guess, but what she almost earned for her decision was a bite across her throat. Only her quick reflexes kept Ysera from a mortal wound.

A red rage overtook Malygos. He shoved past Ysera and attacked the undead. With its paws still bound, its remaining defenses were its slavering jaws and its horrific mist. Malygos shifted to the monster’s right. The undead, unable to turn well, could not bring its head around far enough to reach him.

Malygos ripped into the dry neck, easily tearing through the rotting flesh and cracking bone. It was enough to cause the neck to collapse, taking the head with it.

With blackened blood slowly dripping from the savage wound, the torso continued to twitch. Still caught up in his fury, Malygos ripped open the chest. That appeared to be sufficient. The body quieted, then slumped.

Kalec’s mind also swirled with rage, although to a lesser degree. He fought against the desire for blood and flesh, even as a voice tried to reach through the haze that Malygos’s thoughts had become.

The icy-blue male turned on Ysera. She met Malygos’s gaze squarely and began talking to him in a tone like the one she had used with the corpse. Malygos at first sneered, only interested in her life. He smelled its freshness, and his hunger grew. Kalec understood that his host had fallen prey to the bite from the earlier undead and doubted that Malygos would be able to shake himself out of it this time. Worse, Malygos towered over Ysera, who made no move to flee.

Then a quiet voice penetrated Malygos’s thoughts. Like something out of a dream, it gently touched some remnant of sanity left in Kalec’s host and urged it forward. Kalec felt Malygos’s hunger begin to subside. His reason started to take dominance again.

We are your friends, Malygos. . . .

At first, Kalec believed the voice belonged to Tyr, for not only did it have an otherworldly quality to it, but who else would have the ability to draw reason back from madness? However, as the voice repeated itself, he caught its feminine facets.

It was Ysera’s voice. With the subsiding of the blood rage, Malygos’s vision cleared. Now both Kalec and his host could make out that Ysera was speaking. While that certainly made sense, it had been impossible for even Kalec to identify her under such circumstances.

“You do not want to do this. You are one who fights for us, not against us.”

Listening through Malygos, Kalec noticed how much more succinctly Ysera spoke. She was more intelligent—if also more impulsive—than other proto-dragons. Kalec wondered if her small size and inability to fight as well as many normal proto-dragons had contributed to her need to hone her intellect even more than most of her kind.

Malygos finally nodded. “I am well.”

But for the first time, Tyr was disturbed. Barging past Ysera, the two-legged being angrily peered at Malygos. “You’ve been bitten. The hunger is within you.”

Alexstrasza joined her sister. The elder female appeared almost as dismayed as Tyr. Ysera, on the other hand, looked very interested and, at the same time, disappointed.

“Could have saved them,” Ysera muttered. “Did not have to die in that cave. . . .”

Both Malygos and Kalec recalled the infected proto-dragons buried alive by Talonixa. Kalec doubted that those poor creatures, so much farther gone than even Malygos, could have been turned back to sanity, as his host had been. Still, he felt Malygos’s guilt grow at the thought that perhaps somehow he could have helped Ysera in that regard.

Tyr ignored Ysera, his attention fully on studying Malygos for any sign of the hunger returning. “I’ve seen others. None fought it down. How long has it been since you were bitten?”

“Several suns.”

Tyr’s eyes—so very different from those of proto-dragons—narrowed further. “That long, and you haven’t succumbed. That bespeaks a strong will, although evidently not strong enough. She kept you from falling too deep into the hunger.”

Malygos straightened. “Not happen again.”

To Kalec’s surprise, his host spoke with the utmost certainty. The dragon could sense a change in Malygos, a change in great part the result of Ysera’s efforts to guide him back to sanity.

Tyr did not look convinced. He raised a hand to Malygos. The hand glowed white.

Malygos instinctively retreated. Alexstrasza hissed. Only Ysera appeared unperturbed. Even though Malygos had seen Tyr appear and disappear and knew he had amazing powers, it was another thing to have those powers focused at him. Only great restraint kept the icy-blue male from defending himself.

“I cannot sense the taint. Either you have buried it so deep that it should never resurface, or you have purged it somehow from your body and mind entirely.” Tyr looked back at Ysera. “One must never overestimate appearances, it seems.”

Alexstrasza’s sister betrayed no evidence that she heard Tyr’s compliment. Rather, the slighter female moved back to the ravaged corpse. She muttered something, then began to mourn it as Malygos recalled Alexstrasza mourning the remains of their actual clutch brother.

Tyr tolerated this for a very short time. “There are other lives that can be saved. I think it best that we do what we can for those, including your missing friends.”

“But there is still Galakrond,” Alexstrasza pointed out. “Even if he is gone now, he will always hunt us.”

“And that is why we must hunt him instead.”

Malygos was not alone in eyeing Tyr with some suspicion. “We hunt him? Talonixa hunted Galakrond! Speak with Talonixa, Tyr!”

“Your point is well taken, proto-dragon. Still, this time will be different.”

Kalec’s host cocked his head. “How?”

Tyr reached into his cloak and removed what only Kalec recognized but even Malygos and the sisters understood was a weapon of some sort. Tyr might lack claws and sharp teeth, but he wielded the blunt-ended thing with an ease and skill that the proto-dragons could appreciate.

As for Kalec, he had seen many a war hammer in his time, but even the sturdiest of those, used by the dwarves especially, paled in comparison to the huge weapon Tyr held, a weapon that Kalec and his host felt was of greater power than it appeared, like the hooded figure himself.

“Because I will not stand by this time! When you face Galakrond, I will be at your side.”

He returned the hammer to the confines of the cloak, the weapon seeming to vanish into a void rather than simply hanging at Tyr’s side. As astounding as that was to Malygos, for Kalec, the act revealed another, more urgent sight.

Hanging next to where the hammer had vanished was none other than the artifact.

Kalec expected to watch the cloak again obscure the bane of his existence, but to his shock, Tyr brought forth the artifact. The proto-dragons peered at the object, Malygos’s utter bafflement clearly matching that of the sisters. Various explanations ran through Malygos’s mind—an egg, a rock, a piece of star—but none approached what Kalec already knew about the insidious relic.

Tyr held out the artifact—which looked to Kalec as if it was smaller than he recalled—toward Malygos.

In contrast with the lavender color the blue dragon was familiar with from his own time, now the artifact glowed a faint white . . . and only in the direction of Kalec’s host. Malygos grunted, but before he could react, the glow ceased.

Tyr turned to Ysera and Alexstrasza. Again, the artifact glowed faintly. Having already seen nothing happen to Malygos, neither sister so much as blinked.

Kalec wanted to shout questions, but Malygos asked only one of the many the blue dragon sought the answer to. “What did you do?”

“Try to ensure some future.”

It was as vague a response as Kalec had expected. He would have followed up with a pointed query, but Malygos was not of the same mind. His concerns were more immediate to the overall situation.

“We go now. We find the others.”

Tyr hid the artifact again, leaving Kalec to fume silently. “Yes, we find them—”

Galakrond’s roar shook the cavern, suddenly close. Heavy chunks of rock broke from the ceiling, and if not for Alexstrasza quickly covering her head with her wings, she would have been wounded. Ysera and Malygos were also pelted, but not as badly.

The rocks seemed to fall around Tyr without touching him. Still, he did not take the incident lightly. Scowling, he steered the three back from the entrance. His decision proved providential; a major section of the ceiling there crumbled a breath later. It did not bury them alive, but it meant that to escape, they would have to crawl out one at a time.

And out there, Galakrond continued to rage.

“Something has brought him back here!” Tyr rasped. “Your friends, perhaps!”

Whatever the reason, Galakrond appeared determined to stay in the region. The ground shook again and again, creating more showers of rock but, thus far, no new collapses. All four—five, including Kalec—knew that their luck could not last much longer.

Tyr started back to the entrance, only to have Malygos charge past him. The male proto-dragon thrust out his snout just enough to see what was happening.

Galakrond chose that moment to land. The new tremor rocked the landscape. The monstrous proto-dragon’s head whipped back and forth in search of something. Kalec and his host both noted that Galakrond looked amused. Kalec had seen that expression before on such predators; the behemoth was toying with his prey, whatever it was.

A moment later, that prey also appeared. Not at all to Malygos’s and Kalec’s surprise, it was Neltharion.

The charcoal-gray male dived down from behind Galakrond. Neltharion unleashed another roar, aimed at the base of Galakrond’s skull. The misshapen leviathan shook from the force of the shock wave and fell forward to the ground.

Neltharion laughed and came around to attack again.

“He’s being led to his death,” Tyr said from beside Malygos. “I knew him to be rash but not suicidal.”

Several of the eyes along Galakrond’s torso had been observing Neltharion the entire time. The smaller male reached the location Galakrond evidently waited for. He twisted his head around and opened his mouth to exhale.

A thick column of sand shot down his gullet.

A fit of coughing overtook Galakrond as he suddenly had to fight for breath. The massive proto-dragon struggled to dislodge the sand from his throat.

Another, smaller figure dropped down just behind Neltharion. Nozdormu hissed at Galakrond, a taunt that the hacking beast failed to notice.

“Excellent coordination!” Tyr roared. “So I was right about all of you!”

Malygos failed to see what so cheered the two-legged being, and Kalec had to agree. Yes, the pair had outmaneuvered Galakrond, but he was hardly defeated.

Some impulse drove Malygos out into the open. He was through the half-ruined entrance before anyone could stop him. Alexstrasza called after him, but he did not hesitate. Kalec felt Malygos’s intense sense of loyalty urge the icy-blue male into the fray.

Snout down, Galakrond finally began dislodging chunks of solidified sand. His breathing took on a more normal rate. He started to look up again—

Malygos exhaled. As Nozdormu had done, Malygos aimed at the gullet.

At the last moment, Galakrond sensed him. However, in turning to face Malygos, Galakrond only gave him a choicer target. The frost hit the same eye that Neltharion had earlier attacked.

By itself, the frost might not have slowed Galakrond, but it aggravated the injured eye. Hissing, the enormous proto-dragon shut both eyes. Of course, that did not leave him sightless; several of the extra eyes now glared at Malygos.

Yet no sooner had those orbs fixed on Kalec’s host than fire assailed the shut ones. Alexstrasza soared over Malygos, the plume of flame she exhaled continuing. Her attack kept the main orbs from reopening and drew the other eyes from Malygos.

Neltharion chose then to attack some of the extra eyes. He first roared at them, and then, when he was able to get near enough, he tore away two in successive swipes of his hind claws.

But the reckless male failed to pay sufficient attention to some of the extra limbs. Perhaps seeing them as little other than useless growths, Neltharion let his tail come too close to one dangling leg.

The paw seized his tail and held on with a tight grip. Neltharion tried to back away, which only brought him near another paw. The second grabbed one of his hind legs.

Galakrond opened his eyes. Mouth widening, he turned to swallow the captured morsel.

Malygos and Alexstrasza tried to draw his attention again, but Galakrond cared only to devour Neltharion. Their attacks, now striking mostly the scaled hide, did little more than cause their foe to twitch slightly as his jaws neared the charcoal-gray male.

A shadow swept over Malygos, immense enough to make him think that perhaps another Galakrond came up behind him. He started to look over his shoulder, but the shape moved so quickly that both he and Kalec had no time to ascertain what it was before it reached Galakrond.

A thick form that Kalec initially identified as a fist as large as a full-grown proto-dragon hit Galakrond on the side of the jaw opposite from Neltharion. It hit with such force that the behemoth stumbled away from the blow.

Only as the shape receded did both Kalec and his host catch enough of a glimpse to see that it was not a fist but the head of a hammer that had made the blow—a hammer identical to what Tyr had wielded but many times the size of the one they had seen earlier.

And while Malygos had missed it, Kalec had noticed that there was a hand gripping the hammer, a hand also much larger than previously seen.

But just as the hammer withdrew, Malygos’s attention was caught by Ysera, who darted dangerously close to the briefly stunned Galakrond’s jaws. However, instead of seeking the gullet, Ysera rose before Galakrond’s nostrils and exhaled.

Galakrond grunted. He hesitated.

The paws holding on to Neltharion seemed to lose control. He pulled away and fled from Galakrond. As he did, Alexstrasza and Ysera also turned away.

“Flee! To the south!” Tyr called from somewhere beyond the icy-blue male’s sight. Tyr’s resounding voice well matched his titanic proportions, which made his sudden command more shocking to Malygos. All appearances were that they were at last winning.

But as he thought that, Galakrond began to stir again.

Kalec’s host veered away. He saw his companions, Nozdormu included, awaiting him in the south. Of Tyr there was still no sign. Malygos picked up his pace.

Behind him, Galakrond roared. Malygos flew faster. He joined the others as they raced on.

“Tyr?” Malygos called.

In response, a sound that echoed like thunder rocked them from the direction of Galakrond. A second later, the leviathan roared again, but this time from farther away.

Malygos almost halted, but Alexstrasza shook her head. “Tyr says fly south! Keep flying!”

With much regret, he obeyed. He did not entirely understand this being called Tyr, but he recognized that the two-legged creature knew far more than he or any of the others did. Their hopes of defeating Galakrond rested greatly on Tyr.

Tyr . . . who at this moment risked himself to help the five escape.

And for Kalec, who was forced wherever his host went despite the fact that he would have flown in the opposite direction, it was the same Tyr who carried with him the artifact and the blue dragon’s fading hope that he would free himself of these visions with his mind intact.

FOUR

WITHIN THE NEXUS

Jaina glared at the offending books. She had exhausted a repertoire of spells designed for such delicate searches, to no avail. Now the archmage considered stronger measures, her only hesitation being that Modera or someone else would certainly notice her presence then. Still, every second lost might also mean further danger to Kalec.

She had to take the risk of discovery. Her mind made up, Jaina began casting—and then halted. Atop one bookcase sat the skull of an ancient, savage reptile that she had inherited with a number of unusual and arcane objects from her predecessor, Rhonin. While in itself it meant nothing to Jaina, it caused her mind to shift back abruptly to the huge skeleton and her encounter with Buniq. She saw again how the taunka drew the pattern. Only at this moment did Jaina ponder the fact that the taunka had had a very precise memory for a symbol like nothing she would have seen before. At the time, the archmage had chalked it up to the focused nature of Buniq’s kind, but now she wondered if it had been something more.

Were you really a taunka? Jaina asked the distant Buniq. I shouldn’t have believed in coincidence.

Jaina drew the symbol in the air. She then turned it about so that she looked at it as it had been drawn by the hunter.

“What a fool I’ve been!” the archmage blurted. She bit her lip, then simply prayed that no one had heard her. She eyed the reversed symbol, seeing it anew.

Had she paid more attention when first seeing it by the skeleton, Jaina would have noticed that turning it revealed a different and obvious meaning. Turned this way, the symbol was also a key.

Or, rather, the key. Jaina cast the reversed symbol over the original tome. The archmage watched as it sank into the book.

The lavender glow faded not only from the book in question but also from the entire collection.

Jaina seized the thick tome and began flipping through the pages. There, where she had expected to find the information she needed, she finally found it. The archmage carefully read over the passage.

When together, the two parts were more than the sum of their individual measure. Their power magnified. Archmage Wendol suggested that there were also other combinations that the pair could make but that the immense time since their creation had caused some of those combinations to function in error—

Jaina shut the book. “Yes . . . that must be it.”

Voices arose outside her chambers. Jaina quietly swore at her outbursts. She should have known that Modera would have someone listening for any sign of her return.

But discovery mattered no longer. Jaina believed that she had what she needed. The archmage set down the book . . . and vanished.

She materialized a few seconds later just beyond the magical boundaries of the Nexus, the humming accompanying her teleportation spell fading away even as she registered her location. Jaina frowned upon seeing where she had appeared; the archmage was far from her intended goal. She cast another spell and vanished again.

Jaina rematerialized in the exact same location.

Staring at the Nexus, the archmage attempted a different tack. This time, she simply tried to probe what was currently happening.

The probe failed to breach the Nexus’s protective wards.

Having entered the sanctum just recently, Jaina believed that Kalec had adjusted the wards to keep someone or something out. That was followed with the concern that he had wanted her specifically to be kept from entering. He had already sought to keep his troubles from her, and it could be reasonably assumed that this change in the wards had been done with that intention in mind.

The trouble was, Jaina believed that she held Kalec’s only hope of being freed from whatever the artifact was doing to him. If he had sealed the Nexus off, it was possible he had condemned himself.

No! I will not lose you! Jaina cast another spell, this one draping over the entire field of wards. She looked for some fault, however slight, of which she could take advantage. Unfortunately, she found none.

The blue dragons themselves aside, few alive understood the complexities of the Nexus’s wards as well as Jaina Proudmoore did. Aware of their general matrix, Jaina sought out the key points. She did so not to seek weaknesses but to find alterations. By understanding what had been changed, the archmage might be able to see how she could adjust it to her desire.

But what Jaina discovered when she located the key points was not what she expected. Kalec had not made these alterations; the same energy signature she had noted in the artifact now permeated the Nexus’s defensive network.

At first, the archmage stood daunted, but then an idea occurred to her. She re-created the symbol and, keeping it reversed as she had done with the books, incorporated it into her next probe of the key wards.

There was resistance, but the symbol finally imposed itself on the altered wards. As it did, the artifact’s influence on that area faded.

Encouraged, Jaina probed deeper—

The alteration reconstructed itself, in the process rejecting her spellwork from the wards. The force with which it reversed matters struck Jaina’s mind hard.

Gasping, the archmage fell to one knee. Her head throbbed. However, her initial frustration at this setback quickly changed to curiosity. What she had sensed was no personal purpose on the part of the artifact; it had simply restored an area that had been disrupted. There had been no malice, no intentional attack on the archmage. Once the area had been returned to its previous state, the artifact’s efforts had ceased.

Standing, Jaina grimly smiled. She had a better idea of what she faced. Next, she had to learn its limits . . . and whether those limits were greater than her own.

With Kalec in her thoughts, the archmage once more re-created the symbol. She then made a second, a third, and so on, until within the space of a few breaths, scores of the reversed image hovered before her.

“Let’s see what happens now,” Jaina murmured. “Let’s see what happens when you have to readjust everything.”

She sent her army of glowing symbols into the air. They hovered together for a moment, then spread out, circling the expanse of the Nexus and its unseen protective wards. When they reached where Jaina wanted them to be, the archmage had them pause just beyond the wards. Heightening her senses, she took one last look at how the wards were arranged, then sent a sigil hurtling toward each.

As the reversed symbols touched the wards, the Nexus erupted in an explosion of white and lavender energy.

•   •   •

The five proto-dragons alighted on a set of sharp ridges along the side of a wide, stark peak. All were extremely exhausted, and had Galakrond chosen that moment to attack them, Malygos had little doubt that he and his friends would have been easy morsels for the behemoth. Kalec, experiencing Malygos’s weariness and foul mood, could not help but think the same.

For several minutes, the five simply crouched where they perched, caught in their own thoughts but all clearly having the same thoughts. The devastation wrought by Galakrond had begun to sink in, as had the fact that they seemed to be the only ones left to face him. More and more, the immensity of that was becoming apparent.

The mountain wind howled, but Malygos suddenly heard another sound mixed in with it. Stirring, the icy-blue male listened but noted only the wind now.

Kalec’s host saw that Ysera also listened. She did not look Malygos’s way but, rather, at where two mountains to the east seemed as if they fell toward each other.

Again, there came a brief sound. This time, Malygos recognized the mournful hiss of a proto-dragon.

Ysera flew off toward the sound. The others took notice of her action but evidently had not heard the cry. Malygos immediately followed, with the rest in pursuit.

Ysera dived in between the two mountains. Malygos pushed to keep up with her, amazed that the weaker female now had more strength than he did.

The yellowish proto-dragon entered a shadowed area that reminded Kalec and his host too much of the very region they had just left. Visions of animated corpses rose in both minds.

Alexstrasza’s sister vanished into the shadows. Malygos slowed slightly, then entered.

Barely had he done so when another proto-dragon rose in front of him. Despite the shadows, it was clear to Malygos that this was a living creature, not one of the undead.

The two collided, but not because the other proto-dragon—a young male—sought battle. Malygos’s supposed opponent squawked in fear as he tried to untangle himself.

A third proto-dragon—Alexstrasza—joined from behind Malygos. Ysera’s sibling aided Malygos in pinning the young proto-dragon against one rocky wall.

As they did, Ysera joined them. “No . . . he was only startled. Let him go.”

The captured male frantically looked from Malygos to Ysera and back again. He let out a low whine. Only then did Malygos realize that this was one of the lesser proto-dragons, one of those that had not made the leap to intelligence.

From behind Ysera arose more whining. Malygos caught sight of several shapes moving about in the back.

Neltharion and Nozdormu landed near them. At the same time, Alexstrasza released her hold on the captured proto-dragon. Malygos did the same.

The young male immediately rushed back behind Ysera. He vanished among the other shadowy forms, all of which grew even more agitated.

“What is this?” Neltharion muttered.

Ysera turned to the shadows. Malygos and the others finally followed.

The agitated forms turned out to be a motley collection of proto-dragons, which Kalec and his host saw included mostly the lesser ones but also a few of the obviously more intelligent. Whichever they were, they shared a tremendous anxiety.

Among them, Malygos spotted two whom he recognized from the doomed charge. They looked even more disheveled than the lesser proto-dragons and in some manner also more anxious. Eyeing the smarter ones, Malygos came to the conclusion that they were probably all from the charge.

“Galakrond comes! Galakrond comes!” a silver-blue female cried without warning. The assembled survivors grew yet more agitated.

“No Galakrond!” Neltharion roared with impatience. “No Galakrond! Quiet!”

They quieted, but only out of a more immediate fear of the charcoal-gray male. Neltharion’s outburst also greatly shook Ysera. She placed herself between the unfortunates and Neltharion.

“You be quiet! Quiet!”

Startled, Neltharion clamped his mouth shut and backed down. Ysera, her eyes widening by the second, turned to the shivering proto-dragons.

“All good,” she continued in a calmer tone. “No Galakrond . . . all good . . .”

Her audience became less restive but did not completely calm. Kalec, observing all, could hardly blame them. Those who had been a part of Talonixa’s campaign would live with the horror of the debacle for the rest of their existence—very possibly a short time unless something changed.

“So many dead,” Ysera muttered. “So many dead . . .”

Alexstrasza came to her side. “Sister—”

“Galakrond! We must—”

Kalec’s world turned on its head. The vision changed to darkness with a suddenness that jarred the blue dragon as none of the previous shifts had. He felt as if his mind were being torn in a thousand different directions.

What at first sounded like the rapid beating of his own heart pounding in his head quickly became a steady noise that he realized originated from beyond his ears. In understanding that, Kalec also understood that he was somewhat back in his body. Why he had not completely left the vision for the present, the blue dragon could not say. Kalec tried to move, but it was still as if he was a part of young Malygos. Kalec had no sense of his legs and arms, no sense of any part of his body except that if he could hear the pulsating, then he did have ears.

Then an indistinct shape caught his attention. Kalec found himself grateful that it also revealed that he did still have eyes. He tried to identify it but could only make out that it stood over him.

The pulsating increased, again causing him tremendous strain. He wanted to shut his eyes and hold his hands to his ears.

And as if he had done the latter, the beat grew muffled, distant. As the intensity faded, Kalec felt the world slowly try to coalesce about him.

With it came some semblance of form to the shape looming over Kalec.

The shape was clad in a hooded cloak like the one Tyr had been wearing.

Kalec tried to speak, but no words escaped him. Frustrated, he threw all of his will into making some sound.

His ears resounded with the bellowing cry of a dragon—his own cry, despite the fact that he awoke in his humanoid form. Kalec gritted his teeth and then took satisfaction in not only being able to do that but also having finally made himself heard.

Details started to come into view around the vague form that might be Tyr, details that Kalec recognized from the interior of the Nexus, and among them, naturally, was the artifact. That it was so nearby did not surprise him. He was relieved to find that the artifact had not sent him flying halfway across Azeroth but wondered why he still heard the pulsating. There was no reason for the Nexus to have such a sound coursing through it. Yes, some of the wards set off warnings of a magical nature, but this was not one of those alarms.

Even as that came to mind, it suddenly occurred to Kalec that the vague form no longer stood over him. He glared at the empty air, then forced himself to his feet. As he did, he sensed the influence of the artifact extending through the entire arrangement of wards, as if it sought to alter everything anew.

No. . . . As he fought to focus better, Kalec noticed that there was a difference in the way the artifact’s power flowed. It was not simply seeking to alter things; it was attempting to correct abrupt changes made to the wards from the outside.

But who would have the audacity—

“Jaina?” he whispered, both hoping it was her and praying it was not. She could not possibly have any idea what was happening within, so Kalec believed, and even if somehow she had gained some knowledge, Jaina still risked herself needlessly. There was nothing she could do for Kalec.

More fearful for her life than for his own fragmenting sanity, Kalec stumbled forward. He heard an ominous rumble echoing through the Nexus, which struck his very core.

Galakrond.

It was not possible for the proto-dragon to be there. Kalec knew that with absolute certainty. Yet again, he heard Galakrond’s distinctive rumble, this time closer than ever.

A shadow crossed over Kalec, a vast shadow that only served to verify that what he had heard was, indeed, fact. However, when he tried to spot the source of that shadow, he could locate no sign.

The Nexus shook, but the tremor had nothing to do with shadows of the past. Whatever was affecting the wards from without had caused greater turmoil to his sanctum than Kalec would have expected. More and more, he believed that Jaina had come in search of him, and more and more, he feared what the artifact might choose to do with her.

Kalec staggered toward the accursed relic. Another shadow moved over it, a smaller one.

The vague form stood behind the artifact, its hooded gaze fixed on Kalec.

“What do you want from me?” he shouted. “What?”

A rasping hiss from his right made Kalec quickly turn. Out of the corner of his eye, he thought he saw one of the undead proto-dragons, but when Kalec sought out the monster, it, like Galakrond, was nowhere to be seen.

And neither, when Kalec turned back, was the hooded figure.

Fury rising, the former Aspect reached for the artifact. Around him, the pulsating grew stronger, deafening. That brought to mind Jaina again, which only further stirred Kalec toward the relic. If only for her, he needed to find some manner by which to stop it—

We must stop him here and now. Any longer, and I fear for this world.

Tyr’s voice. Kalec knew it very well at this point. He wanted to curse the keeper, but no words came from the blue dragon’s mouth this time.

Galakrond’s roar filled his ears again. As before, the vast shadow swept over him and the chamber.

I have observed him long enough. I think I have discovered two weak points that we can exploit.

“I do not—” Kalec could not finish. Nor could he reach the damned relic. He fell to his knees and then, still grasping for the octagonal artifact, pitched forward.

But instead of falling, Kalec awoke in what he recognized as the same region where Malygos, Ysera, and the others had come across the survivors from the charge. Concerns about Jaina and the Nexus faded, despite the blue dragon’s best efforts. His mind and that of the young Malygos melded again.

And through his host, Kalec instantly understood that they had not come across the ragged group by chance. Tyr had sent them in that precise direction because he had known that they would discover one of the bands hiding from Galakrond’s horrific gluttony. If it had not been this one, it would have been another group.

And now Tyr stood among the five, a hint of weariness in his tone, but weariness mixed with confidence. How he had evaded Galakrond, he had apparently not told the proto-dragons. Instead, what he appeared to be doing was organizing Malygos and the others for another mad attempt at taking on Galakrond.

What was worse to Kalec was that the proto-dragons were listening, especially Ysera.

“Where? Where is he now?” she demanded.

“The icy peaks over the north ridge.”

Kalec found the description maddeningly vague, but his host and the rest nodded as if they knew the area very well. An image of the peaks in question briefly formed in Malygos’s thoughts. Kalec tried to identify them with some area in Northrend, but the image faded before he could do so.

Ysera leaned close to Tyr. “We go now?”

“What does Galakrond do now?” Nozdormu interjected. “What?”

“He sleeps,” Tyr answered solemnly. “He sleeps deep. Now is the time to attack him. We shall never get a better chance, in fact.”

None of the proto-dragons, not even Malygos, seemed to notice a slight hesitation at the end of Tyr’s statement. Kalec wondered if it meant anything or if Tyr was simply still exhausted from his own efforts.

“There is a river nearby,” the keeper continued. “Flush with fish. Go there. Eat your fill. Then we head north for Galakrond.”

Alexstrasza indicated the huddled survivors. “What about these?”

“They would be no help.”

Neltharion grunted in agreement. He looked at Malygos, who nodded. Kalec’s host had no other plan and trusted in Tyr’s intelligence. Tyr would lead them to victory.

Neltharion spread his wings, but before he could take flight, Tyr reached into his cloak and, to Kalec’s tremendous frustration, brought forth the artifact. He held it toward the charcoal-gray male. As before, it glowed, startling Neltharion. Tyr held it near Nozdormu, who simply waited for it to stop glowing. Neltharion snorted at the brown male.

“We go now?” a more impatient Ysera asked.

“Yes. The river first. I will meet you after.”

No sooner had Tyr said that than he no longer stood among them. Now only Malygos did not react.

Kalec did react, although of course, no one saw that. And no one evidently saw what he reacted to. Kalec might have been wrong about the earlier hesitation, but he could not have been wrong about the wary gaze Tyr had given before disappearing.

And Kalec was certain he could not be imagining that whatever the reason for the gaze, it warned of a threat not just to Malygos and his friends but to everything.

FIVE

HUNTING THE HUNTER

Malygos’s feeding left Kalec adrift with his own thoughts, which at last led back to the blue dragon’s time . . . and Jaina. He knew that his body lay in the Nexus and more than ever believed that she, and she alone, was responsible for what was trying to interfere with the wards affected by the artifact.

Jaina! he silently called, hoping that perhaps she would notice him. Jaina!

There was no response, and in truth, Kalec had hardly expected one. There was nothing he could do for her here except pray that somehow he might be able to find a way from the visions before they consumed his mind.

Kalec could also not comprehend why the vision did not shift from this mundane moment to a more significant one. He was both grateful and concerned when Malygos and the other four suddenly finished their feeding and looked to the sky as if hearing something. The next instant, Kalec’s host rose into the air and flew north, followed by his companions. Kalec still did not understand what had alerted Malygos and the others and could not fathom anything from the icy-blue male’s thoughts except that they needed to head toward Galakrond now.

Their surroundings grew chillier as they neared where Tyr had indicated the leviathan slept. Seeing the landscape from such a height, Kalec finally recognized a few points from his own time. They were far into the most desolate of the young world’s northern regions. This was nowhere near where Kalec knew that Galakrond’s skeleton lay, and that boded ill for the blue dragon.

With Malygos in the lead, the five descended. Kalec saw no reason for their doing so, unless they feared Galakrond spotting them. Then a familiar form materialized atop a ridge.

The proto-dragons alighted near Tyr, who seemed as tiny as when Malygos had first met him. Yet more than ever, Kalec and his host could sense that what they saw was only a hint of the true Tyr. Kalec recalled the brief glimpse he had had of the massive hammer and wondered at the full extent of Tyr’s power. Certainly, all of that power would be needed if the six hoped to defeat Galakrond.

“He still sleeps,” Tyr announced, his voice reaching the five despite the wind and distance. “We must strike quickly.”

Again, there was an edge to what he said that made Kalec suspicious that the proto-dragons were not being told everything. Malygos caught that edge, too, but did not outwardly reveal anything. Still, Kalec was relieved that his host knew to be wary.

“Now,” Tyr continued, his countenance darkening further. “This is what I—”

At that point, the vision shifted. Here, when matters most concerned Kalec, the artifact betrayed him in a new way. He now found himself soaring over another bleak region, surely only moments away from confronting their monstrous foe.

The overcast sky combined with the descending sun to create a greater gloom over the already inhospitable landscape. However, from a valley just to the northeast, there came a faint, deathly white glow, as if another sun or one of the moons nestled there.

That Malygos banked toward it barely a breath later did not at all surprise Kalec. The blue dragon’s suspicions about Tyr holding something back were verified.

Out of the corner of Malygos’s eye, Kalec saw the other four spread out. Whatever plan Tyr had explained to the proto-dragons remained ambiguous. There was something about a succession of attacks at the proper signal and then Tyr acting. The vagueness of it infuriated Kalec.

The vision shifted again—or did not. There was a brief blackness; then all was as if nothing had occurred and no time had passed. Kalec, still attempting to digest what had happened, also noticed a haziness around everything. Definition returned a second later, yet the memory of what had taken place remained with the blue dragon.

This is wrong. . . . Kalec could only guess that something had gone awry with the artifact. He had to assume that it was through Jaina’s efforts to enter the Nexus; if not that, then degradation had spread through the relic by other means.

Whichever the case, if it continued, it threatened to take Kalec’s mind with it.

The vision lost some definition again but corrected. The deathly glow increased as Malygos neared.

And then Kalec and his host beheld Galakrond.

Bigger . . . he’s grown bigger yet. The blue dragon could not believe the size of the malevolent proto-dragon. Galakrond had to be half again his previous size. He filled up much of the area below.

Malygos’s thoughts momentarily turned to distrust in Tyr. This was surely what their supposed comrade had kept from them. It made some sense; Tyr might have been concerned that his chosen champions would have been more reluctant to do battle if they knew that their adversary had become more dangerous than before.

But while Malygos’s focus did not go beyond Galakrond’s growth, the blue dragon studied the glow. There was more to it than merely increasing the behemoth’s size. Galakrond was going through another transformation, one that, if completed, Kalec feared would make the insidious creature impossible to destroy.

Had it been his choice, Kalec would have had Malygos retreat until they could better identify just what sort of overall change was taking place. However, Malygos, no doubt acting on Tyr’s plan despite misgivings, dived toward Galakrond and looked ready to assault the gigantic proto-dragon’s head.

Galakrond’s breathing was low, rhythmic. He was deep, deep asleep, perhaps more so because of the transformation. Every extra eye that Malygos’s view took in was shut tight. The various limbs dangling from the body hung as if dead. Kalec could see why Tyr would recommend attacking while Galakrond looked so defenseless, but he doubted that it would be that simple.

Whether or not it would be simple, Malygos chose that second to strike.

The frost battered the eyelid of the injured orb. Malygos exhaled with a fury Kalec had thus far not witnessed. The eyelid pressed in, and Kalec could not imagine that it did not hurt Galakrond.

The misshapen leviathan roared as he awoke. His wings spread, shattering rock formations on both sides. His tail whipped back and forth, leaving similar devastation in its wake.

“Llllitttllle mmmmorrrsssellll!” Galakrond spoke as if time itself had slowed down for him. Yet he moved with incredible swiftness, his head darting skyward as he attempted to snap Malygos up—and almost succeeded. “Baaaadddd llllittle morsel!”

Taking to the air, Galakrond pursued Kalec’s host. The huge jaws once more sought to close on the icy-blue male—

Neltharion landed on the snout, his hind paws hitting with such force that, as mighty as he was, Galakrond could not prevent his mouth from shutting hard.

Alexstrasza and Nozdormu assaulted his two true eyes, forcing the behemoth to close them again.

Ysera . . . where is Ysera? Malygos thought then. Only at that point did Kalec understand that the yellowish female should have been the next to add her strength.

A shadow loomed before Galakrond, a shadow that could hardly have been that of the smaller Ysera.

And a shadow that, as it shifted, revealed that it could not possibly be cast by any four-legged creature, much less a proto-dragon.

A tremendous force battered Galakrond’s jaw, causing the monster’s head to jerk to the side. That force, Kalec saw with no surprise, came from a huge hammer.

Tyr—the true Tyr—stood revealed before the proto-dragons and Kalec and dived directly and eagerly into battle.

Kalec could not judge Tyr’s exact height, but the lunging warrior had to be nearly as tall as Galakrond’s shoulder. Yet that was perhaps the least of revelations, for in entering battle, Tyr had tossed away his obscuring cloak and was revealed as he truly was. The crimson tunic that crossed over from the right side of his waist up to his opposing shoulder left clear much of a muscled torso that belied Tyr’s previous use of magic. A spellcaster he might be, but the keeper was hardly one who shied away from physical threats.

Tyr wore no armor except shin guards and seemed unconcerned at charging unprotected against his scaled foe. A band with diamond patterns wrapped around his right arm above the elbow, and behind him flowed a lesser cloak of the same coloring as his tunic and connected at the neck by a high, pointed collar. The cloak moved as if of its own accord, seeming like an extra appendage as Tyr positioned himself to strike again.

But as Tyr swung his hammer, Kalec briefly forgot the struggle as an object still attached to the keeper’s thick belt dangled. The artifact’s simple presence seemed to mock the unseen blue dragon. It glittered despite the lack of bright sunlight, and Kalec could swear that it was conscious of every critical moment.

Then Tyr hit Galakrond, this time battering the other side of the proto-dragon’s huge jaws. Galakrond tumbled back, crashing into a mountainside to his right and sending a tremor through the vicinity.

“Now!” Tyr shouted.

Neltharion landed on the mountainside against which Galakrond had crashed. The charcoal-gray male stomped hard against the peak, sending a shock wave through it several times stronger than even the leviathan’s collision. A tremendous rockslide rained on the monstrous proto-dragon.

Even as the rocks tumbled down on Galakrond, Tyr brought up his hammer. However, instead of battering his adversary, the gigantic warrior hit the ground right before Galakrond.

Assaulted by yet another tremor, the malformed behemoth sprawled. Galakrond tried to use his enormous wings to push himself upright, but the new tremor caused him to slip back.

Barely had Neltharion pulled away when Alexstrasza reentered. Flames shot dangerously near Galakrond’s true eyes, causing him to shut them instinctively.

Kalec expected the other eyes to make up for that but then saw that the incessant rockslide had also forced most of them shut. Tyr had Malygos and his friends working a very coordinated attack against Galakrond. Not for one second was the fiend allowed respite.

However, even though victory appeared to be leaning toward the defenders, one thing continued to very much disturb the blue dragon. The glow had not faded in the least; it had actually magnified since Galakrond had been attacked.

Malygos joined in. Kalec barely had time to comprehend what was happening before his host exhaled at Galakrond’s exposed maw. The frost left Galakrond gasping, but as Malygos pulled away, Kalec sensed something his host did not. The power radiating around the gargantuan proto-dragon was increasing.

Galakrond expanded.

The abrupt escalation in size sent Malygos scurrying away even faster. Neltharion, just diving in again, quickly veered off.

With a tremendous roar, Galakrond righted himself.

Tyr’s hammer slammed into his jaw—and bounced back without making the monster so much as flinch. Every eye on the disfigured proto-dragon now glittered furiously.

The vast wings flapped once. Funneled by the curve of the landscape, the gust they created threw the smaller proto-dragons and also Tyr in every direction.

With another beat, the wings lifted the incredibly huge beast high above the ground. As that happened, it became apparent that Galakrond had increased in dimension and had become more distorted. His head was longer and thinner, and his snout stretched half again the length of that of any normal proto-dragon. His sharp teeth were wickedly curved, so much so that they greatly protruded whenever he clamped his jaws shut.

And not only did more growths seem to be spreading across Galakrond’s hulking form, but his skin also had a crustier, drier finish to it, almost as if he had become an undead like so many of his victims. Yet one only had to look at the fearsome hunger radiating from every eye to see that Galakrond lived . . . and lived for one thing.

He paid no mind to Tyr, instead seeking the nearest of the smaller proto-dragons. That proved to be Malygos. As he lunged for his prey, Galakrond exhaled.

Try as he might, Malygos could not escape the noxious cloud. It draped over him, instantly sapping his strength and will. Kalec felt his host’s mind grow disoriented, despite Malygos’s attempts to fight the effect. The blue dragon struggled to do something, already well aware that his efforts would come to nothing.

Galakrond loomed over Malygos. To his credit, the smaller proto-dragon forced his wings to flap, gaining him a few precious seconds . . . but no escape.

A gray streak collided with Galakrond at the monster’s throat, Neltharion coming to the aid of his friend. The daring proto-dragon landed hind paws first against the hard hide.

Although Neltharion clearly hit with at least as much effort as in the past, the effect of his collision was markedly less than before. However, it was just enough to turn Galakrond’s head from Malygos as the behemoth tried to snap up the icy-blue male.

No sooner had he struck than Neltharion raced away. It startled Kalec that the other proto-dragon did not try to reach Malygos, but then two pairs of hind paws seized the blue dragon’s host and dragged him from the foul mist.

As fresh air filled Malygos’s lungs, the proto-dragon looked up. Alexstrasza and Nozdormu, inhaling with as much relief as Kalec’s host, held on to Malygos until he had recovered enough. Only then did Kalec understand that they and Neltharion had all held their breath for as long as they could during their effort to save their comrade. In assaulting Galakrond, Neltharion had expended much of what little air he had retained, which was why he had been unable to aid Malygos.

“Ysera!” Alexstrasza abruptly called, turning from the two males. Nozdormu let out a low hiss of anger as he and Malygos followed with their gazes the suddenly racing Alexstrasza’s intended path, which led back to none other than Galakrond.

And there, a determined Ysera hovered directly before the leviathan, who regarded her as Kalec did, as if she was truly mad. In Galakrond’s case, though, a growing sense of amusement took command, and he grinned as she neared.

“A tiny morsel you are,” he rumbled. “Maybe I should let you grow a little fuller, a little stronger—”

“I am strong!” Ysera roared. “You are not!”

Her incredible remark made Galakrond laugh.

Ysera dived for the open mouth, only to have Alexstrasza seize her tail in her jaws and pull as hard as she could. Ysera came up short, just missing being swallowed when Galakrond instinctively shut his maw.

He laughed again at Ysera and her futile attempts to pull free of her sister’s tight hold.

Tyr’s hammer silenced the laugh with a blow so hard that even Galakrond as he was now could not stand against it. The enormous proto-dragon spun away from the powerful hit, several bits of scale flying from the damaged spot. The keeper, who had leapt an incredible height to reach his target, seized Galakrond’s shoulder and, with the sudden shift in mass, brought his hideous adversary back to the ground.

Even then, Tyr did not let up. Releasing his grip, he followed the hammer strike with his fist, bringing it up under Galakrond’s jaw.

The massive proto-dragon’s head snapped up from the force. Tyr threw himself into his foe’s exposed chest, shoving the hammer toward Galakrond’s unprotected throat.

Galakrond blocked the blow with his paw. The move caught Tyr off-guard, and with good reason, for with a normal proto-dragon, the forelimb would have been too short for Galakrond to have been able to defend himself. Now, though, his distorted shape worked to his advantage. Indeed, Kalec saw similarities to true dragons.

Yet, just like Tyr and Malygos, Kalec could not recall Galakrond having such longer limbs only moments before. Through his host, Kalec observed the monster and saw Galakrond’s shape alter slightly. The tail stretched, and the wings took on a sharper cut to their outline.

Even in the midst of pitched battle, the forces within Galakrond were continuing to transform him.

The tail came around and circled Tyr’s left leg. Tyr brought the hammer down, but the tail retreated.

Galakrond exhaled on the keeper.

But Tyr appeared ready for such an attack even then. He drove his fist into Galakrond’s throat.

Hacking, the proto-dragon stumbled back. Simultaneously, Malygos and his companions flew in to aid Tyr.

Galakrond took to the air again. Tyr seized one wing, hanging as the fiend rose swifter than the smaller proto-dragons. Once again, he brought his hammer into play, landing a heavy blow against the side of Galakrond’s skull.

The hammer bounced back with such force that Tyr could not maintain his grip. Galakrond, utterly unfazed and glowing brighter than ever, twisted in the air. The wide wings sent Nozdormu and Neltharion fluttering back in order to avoid being hit. Tyr, trying to retrieve his weapon before it flew beyond recovery, almost lost his hold on Galakrond.

Already aware that Tyr would not reach the hammer in time, Malygos raced after it. As he did, another flying object caught Kalec’s attention.

The artifact, somehow torn free from Tyr’s belt, spiraled through the air.

Tyr, still clutching the wing, evidently also noticed the loss. With his hammer obviously beyond retrieval, the keeper sought not to lose the relic, too. His hand closed on it, just as both artifact and appendage came within range of Galakrond’s teeth.

Tyr’s scream echoed through the land. His grip on the wing vanished. He dropped from Galakrond.

Forgetting the hammer, Malygos lunged for Tyr. He caught the bleeding keeper by the shoulder, grunting as he discovered just how heavy Tyr was. The keeper’s descent slowed but did not stop.

It was Ysera who helped him prevent Tyr from slipping free. Hissing from effort, the smaller female proved hardy enough to enable Malygos to guide all three of them to a ridge. Alexstrasza followed close behind.

Both Kalec and his host expected Galakrond to be right on their tails, but instead, the misshapen monster hovered in the sky, glowing more ominously than ever. He also appeared to still be growing.

There was no sign of Nozdormu and Neltharion. Malygos looked to Tyr, who had been the proto-dragons’ guide in trying to destroy Galakrond. Tyr’s entire hand had been bitten off, and blood drenched not only the stump but also much of the rest of his body.

Galakrond roared again, his thundering tone filled with disdain for the tiny creatures that sought to put an end to his glorious ascension. Malygos glanced from the badly wounded Tyr to the colossal beast, and his thoughts of dread at the imminent fate of himself and his world touched Kalec’s mind.

Kalec knew that Azeroth should survive, but watching Galakrond fill the sky with his awful presence made the blue dragon doubt the very future of which he already no longer felt a part. Moreover, with Tyr’s life ebbing away and the artifact now lost to the behemoth’s insatiable appetite, Kalec saw no future for himself. He and Malygos would perish with the rest of the proto-dragons.

And as if to testify to the certainty of that dire fate, Galakrond continued to grow and change. . . .

NOTES

The story you’ve just read is the fourth in a five-part serial adventure, based in part on characters, situations, and locations from Blizzard Entertainment’s computer game World of Warcraft, an online role-playing experience set in the award-winning Warcraft universe. In World of Warcraft, players create their own heroes and explore, adventure in, and quest across a vast world shared with thousands of other players. This rich and expansive game also allows them to interact with and fight against (or alongside) many of the powerful and intriguing characters featured in this serial novella.

Since launching in November 2004, World of Warcraft has become the world’s most popular subscription-based massively multiplayer online role-playing game. The latest expansion, Mists of Pandaria, takes players to a thrilling and never-before-seen corner of Azeroth: the mysterious continent of Pandaria. More information about Mists of Pandaria and previous expansions can be found on www.WorldofWarcraft.com.

FURTHER READING

If you’d like to read more about the characters, situations, and locations featured in this serial novella, the sources listed below offer additional information.

* Kalecgos—also known as Kalec—has been involved in many influential events in Azeroth’s recent history. His heroics are chronicled in World of Warcraft: Jaina Proudmoore: Tides of War and World of Warcraft: Thrall: Twilight of the Aspects by Christie Golden; World of Warcraft: Night of the Dragon by Richard A. Knaak; Warcraft: The Sunwell Trilogy and World of Warcraft: Shadow Wing, volume 2, Nexus Point by Richard A. Knaak and Jae-Hwan Kim; and the short story “Charge of the Aspects” by Matt Burns (on www.WorldofWarcraft.com).

* Details of Jaina Proudmoore’s life, including her relationship with Kalecgos, are depicted in World of Warcraft: Jaina Proudmoore: Tides of War, World of Warcraft: The Shattering: Prelude to Cataclysm, and World of Warcraft: Arthas: Rise of the Lich King by Christie Golden; the monthly World of Warcraft comic book by Walter and Louise Simonson, Ludo Lullabi, Jon Buran, Mike Bowden, Sandra Hope, and Tony Washington; World of Warcraft: Cycle of Hatred by Keith R. A. DeCandido; and Warcraft: Legends, volume 5, “Nightmares” by Richard A. Knaak and Rob Ten Pas.

* You can find more information about Alexstrasza, Ysera, Nozdormu, Malygos, and their respective dragonflights in Thrall: Twilight of the Aspects by Christie Golden; Warcraft: War of the Ancients Trilogy, Warcraft: Day of the Dragon, World of Warcraft: Night of the Dragon, and World of Warcraft: Stormrage by Richard A. Knaak; and the short story “Charge of the Aspects” by Matt Burns (on www.WorldofWarcraft.com).

* Deathwing nearly destroyed Azeroth during the great Cataclysm. His long history of betrayal and brutality is featured in Thrall: Twilight of the Aspects by Christie Golden; the Shadow Wing series by Richard A. Knaak and Jae-Hwan Kim; the War of the Ancients Trilogy, Night of the Dragon, and Day of the Dragon by Richard A. Knaak; World of Warcraft: Beyond the Dark Portal by Aaron Rosenberg and Christie Golden; and the short story “Charge of the Aspects” by Matt Burns (on www.WorldofWarcraft.com).

THE BATTLE RAGES ON

The Cataclysm changed Azeroth and its myriad peoples in many ways. Dawn of the Aspects depicts the uncertainty that now plagues the ancient dragons. But what lies ahead for the world’s other races?

In World of Warcraft’s fourth expansion, Mists of Pandaria, you can help shape this next chapter in Azeroth’s history. Become one of the first members of the Horde or the Alliance to explore the mysterious and exotic continent of Pandaria. Or take on the role of a noble pandaren (WoW’s latest playable race) and join the Horde or the Alliance, depending on which faction aligns more with your ideals. Regardless of the side you choose, your adventures will impact Azeroth in the years to come.

With the dragons forging new destinies for themselves, the task of safeguarding the world from evil has fallen to mortal hands—your hands. Will you rise to the challenge?

To discover the ever-expanding realm that has entertained millions around the globe, go to www.WorldofWarcraft.com and download the free trial version. Live the story.

ABOUT THE AUTHOR

Richard A. Knaak is the New York Times and USA Today bestselling author of nearly four dozen novels and two dozen shorter pieces, including the World of Warcraft books Wolfheart and Stormrage, The Legend of Huma for Dragonlance, and his own Dragonrealm series. He has also scripted numerous manga and written background material for games. His novels have been published worldwide.

In addition to Dawn of the Aspects, his most recent releases include Shade—the latest novel in Legends of the Dragonrealm. He is currently at work on other projects. More can be found out at his website: www.richardaknaak.com. Please also join him on Facebook and Twitter.

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This book is a work of fiction. Any references to historical events, real people, or real places are used fictitiously. Other names, characters, places, and events are products of the author’s imagination, and any resemblance to actual events or places or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

Copyright © 2013 by Blizzard Entertainment, Inc.

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First Pocket Star Books ebook edition May 2013

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ISBN 978-1-4767-0863-8