Warcraft: War of the Ancients Book One (Warcraft: Blizzard Legends) by Richard Knaak

Warcraft: War of the Ancients Book One (Warcraft: Blizzard Legends) by Richard Knaak

Author:Richard Knaak [Knaak, Richard]
Language: eng
Format: azw3
Publisher: Blizzard Entertainment, LLC
Published: 2019-02-28T00:00:00+00:00


THIRTEEN

He’s strong of mind, strong of soul, strong of body … said a powerful, aggressive voice in Rhonin’s head.

An admirable quality … at other times … replied a second, calmer voice otherwise identical to the first.

The truth will be known, the first insisted. I’ve never failed to make it so …

Rhonin seemed to float outside his body, but where he floated, the wizard could not say. He felt as if he hung between life and death, sleep and waking, darkness and light … nothing seemed quite right or absolutely wrong.

No more! interjected a third voice somehow familiar to him. He has been through enough! Return him to me … for now …

And suddenly Rhonin awoke in the glade of Cenarius.

The sun hung high overhead, although whether that meant it was noon or merely a trick of the enchanted area, the human could not say. Rhonin tried to rise, but, as before, his body would not obey him.

He heard movement and suddenly the sky filled with the antlered aspect of the forest lord.

“You’re resilient, Rhonin wizard,” Cenarius rumbled. “You surprised one who is usually little surprised … and, more to the point, you held your secrets, however foolish that may be in the long run.”

“Th-there’s nothing … I can … tell you.” It amazed Rhonin that his mouth even worked.

“That remains to be seen. We will know what happened to your companion and why you—who should not be here—are.” The demigod’s visage softened. “But for now, I would have you rest. That much you deserve.”

He waved his hand over Rhonin’s face … and the wizard slept.

Krasus himself would have liked to know the answer of exactly where he was. The cavern in which he now awakened stirred no memories. He could not sense the presence of any other creature, especially not one of his own kind, and that worried him. Had the watcher simply brought him here to be rid of him? Did he expect Krasus to die here?

The last was a very real danger. Pain and exhaustion continued to wrack the dragon mage’s lanky frame. Krasus felt as if someone had ripped half of him away. His memory continued to fail him and he feared that all his maladies would only grow worse with time … time he did not have.

No! I will not give in to despair! Not me! Forcing himself to his feet, he peered around. For a human or orc, the cavern would have been all but black, yet Krasus could make out its interior almost as well as if the light of the sun shone within. He could see the huge, toothy stalactites and stalagmites, identify each crack and fissure along the walls, and note even the tiny, blind lizards darting in and around the smallest crevices.

Unfortunately, he could not make out any exit.

“I do not have time for these games!” he snapped at the empty air. His words echoed, seeming to grow more self-mocking with each repetition.

He was missing something. Surely he had been put



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