The Sundering by Richard A. Knaak Read Free Book Online Page A

in my hand.”
    Sargeras seemed to chuckle. Such loyalty deserves a mark of favor, a mark that will at the same time aid in the fulfillment of your quest, night elf…
    Illidan looked up. For the first time, the barest hint of uncertainty graced his narrow features. “My Lord Sargeras, your crossing to Azeroth will be favor enough and I need no other aid in my—”
    But…I insist.
    And from out of the portal shot forth twin tentacles of dark green flame.
    Mannoroth immediately shielded his eyes. Illidan—the focus of Sargeras’s spellwork—had no such opportunity, not that it would have done him any good to do so.
    The flames poured into his eyes.
    The soft tissue was seared instantly. Illidan’s scream echoed throughout the chamber and likely well beyond the palace walls. All trace of arrogance had left his expression. There was only agony, pure and unadulterated.
    The flames intensified. Arms spread wide, Illidan was dragged up above the floor. He arched backward, nearly breaking in two. Supernatural fire continued to pour into his blackened sockets even after the last bit of the eyes had long burned away.
    The Highborne and satyrs dared not leave their task, but they cringed and tried to shy away from the struggling night elf as much as they could. Even the guards shifted a step or two further back.
    Then, as suddenly as they had shot forth, the flames withdrew.
    Illidan fell to the hard stone floor, somehow managing to land on his hands and knees. His breath came out in pained gasps. His head hung nearly to the floor. There remained, at least outwardly, no hint of his earlier brashness.
    The voice of Sargeras filled the minds of everyone there. Look up, my faithful servant…
    Illidan obeyed.
    There was no sign of the eyes. Only the sockets remained, sockets scorched black and fleshless. Around the rims could be seen parts of the skull itself, so absolutely had Sargeras removed the orbs.
    But if he had taken away the night elf’s eyes, the lord of the Legion had replaced them with something else. There now burned within twin flames, fiery balls the same vicious hue as that which had wreaked such havoc on the sorcerer. The fires burned wildly for several more seconds…then faded until they seemed but smoky remnants. The smoke, however, remained, neither dwindling away nor growing stronger.
    Your eyes are now my eyes, night elf, their gifts to serve me as well as you…
    Illidan said nothing, clearly too distraught from pain.
    Sargeras suddenly reached out to Mannoroth in particular. Send him to his rest. When he is recovered, he will set forth to prove his devotion to me…and seize the artifact…
    At Mannoroth’s gesture, two Fel Guard strode up and seized the shaking Illidan. They all but dragged him out of the chamber to his quarters.
    The moment the night elf was out of earshot, Sargeras’s lieutenant rumbled, “It’s a mistake to leave this mortal to his own devices, even so humbled!”
    He will not journey alone…there will be another. The night elf called Varo’then may be spared for this.
    The demon’s broad wings flexed at this news. Mannoroth grinned, a macabre sight at best. “Varo’then?”
    Azshara’s hound will keep good watch on the sorcerer. If Illidan Stormrage fulfills his promise, the sorcerer will be granted a place among us…
    Such an elevation Mannoroth disliked. “And if the sorcerer proves treacherous?”
    Then Varo’then will instead be granted the favor I would bestow upon the druid’s twin…once the captain has delivered onto me the dragon’s creation…and Illidan Stormrage’s beating heart…
    Mannoroth’s grin grew wider.
    Three
    T he Burning Legion renewed its attack with undiminished fury. While the defenders ever needed to sleep and eat, the demons did not have any such weaknesses. They fought night and day until cut down, only retreating when the odds were too great. Even then, they did so making each foot of land retaken paid with much blood.
    But now they again