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THE LAST GUARDIAN

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TABLE OF CONTENTS

Maps of Northrend

Part V

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Notes

Further Reading

The Battle Rages On

About the Author

PART V

ONE

INTO THE NEXUS

Sweat dripped over Jaina’s face as she continued to focus on her spell. The Nexus pulsated, the outer wards now visible even to a non-spellcaster, not that there were any nearby. The archmage felt the resistance to her work pushing back, but she countered it as best she could.

And then . . . all opposition to Jaina’s efforts evaporated. The wards returned to their original states. The Nexus ceased glowing.

Without hesitation, Jaina transported herself inside.

To her surprise, the chamber in which she materialized looked untouched by all her efforts outside. Pushing that fact aside, the archmage used her powers to seek out any unseen threat still lurking throughout the sanctum. Finding none, she sent herself to where she last recalled Kalec being.

He was not in sight. Panic arose, but as she peered over her shoulder, Jaina found Kalec’s prone form lying on the other side of the chamber. From what she could determine, he looked as if he had crawled there.

Even as she thought that, Kalec’s left arm moved. His fingers scratched at the floor, and to her further dismay, Jaina saw that those fingers ended in the claws of a dragon. In fact, as she neared him, the spellcaster saw other distorted features.

Stepping next to Kalec, Jaina almost slipped. The floor around him was slippery with his sweat. In addition to his altered state, he also appeared more emaciated.

With growing fury, she turned her attention to the relic. It sat slowly pulsating, hardly radiating any noticeable magical emanations, and to her practiced eye seemed perfectly harmless.

Her personal protective spells strengthened, Jaina surveyed the object. While on one hand the archmage could appreciate the elements of its creation, on the other she despised it for what it was doing to her Kalec. With that last sentiment firmly entrenched in her heart and mind, Jaina formed the reversed symbol and sent it flying toward the artifact.

But as the icon touched it, the relic shimmered. Its energy reached through the link Jaina had to maintain with the symbol and caught the archmage square before she could dismiss the spell.

Jaina’s world turned upside down. That was followed by utter darkness and then a babble of voices with a particularly reptilian hint to them. And that was followed by a mad array of images, including creatures she recognized as proto-dragons. In the midst of those, Jaina realized that she was a proto-dragon herself—and one whom she knew, albeit in a far altered form.

Alexstrasza? I’m part of Alexstrasza?

It was a very young Alexstrasza, an Alexstrasza whom Jaina had never really known existed. Through Alexstrasza’s eyes, she saw other proto-dragons whom she vaguely recognized but would not have specifically known if not for her host. She saw Ysera (a shockingly small Ysera), Nozdormu, Neltharion—Neltharion!—and Malygos.

Each of the scenes lasted barely a breath, and many appeared to Jaina to be out of sequence. Most made no sense, and more than a few filled her with dread. The archmage saw horrific, rotting proto-dragons that were surely undead. She saw the wasted corpses of others. Most daunting to Jaina was the monstrous reality that was Galakrond, and she felt Alexstrasza’s chilling dismay as if it were her own.

It was all too much. Jaina almost passed out under the strain. At the last moment, she imagined the reversed symbol and tried to impose it on every image that confronted her.

With a gasp, the archmage discovered herself stumbling back from the artifact. If not for her protective spells, Jaina would have fallen and likely cracked open her skull. As it was, she had to plant herself quickly against the nearest wall and stand there for more than a minute as she fought the residues of vertigo.

The voices still echoing in her head, Jaina looked from the relic to Kalec. She had some notion of what he was going through, but suspected that her experience had been only a fraction of what the blue dragon was caught up in.

The moment that Jaina felt able to, she returned to Kalec. With gentle hands, she turned his face to her. Up close, his condition was worse than she imagined. He reminded her of how it had been said some of the more severe victims of the Emerald Nightmare had appeared, when thousands had fallen to the power of the Nightmare Lord and his master. They had lain helpless, unable to wake from their tormented sleep even as their minds began to waste away.

Jaina shuddered. She had been one of those victims—one of the earliest, in fact—but until now, the extent of her condition had not truly registered with her. That, in turn, only magnified her current fear for Kalec.

He mumbled. Jaina leaned close.

His eyes opened wide—eyes that were pure dragon, not those he had when wearing this form. The archmage pulled back in surprise.

A frosty exhalation enshrouded her.

Had she not protected herself, it was very likely she would have died. Even despite her spells, the archmage could feel the intense cold. Yet this was not the breath weapon that she knew Kalec used. Rather, from the fragmented vision that she had experienced, Jaina realized that Kalec had acted as young Malygos had.

Kalec settled down again. Jaina cautiously touched his cheek, then his throat. What he was currently experiencing in the vision, she did not know, but his blood raced.

Casting a spell, the archmage searched for the link between the artifact and Kalec, only to find no trace. She had been certain that she could locate some connection and take steps to sever it.

That forced her focus back to the artifact. Moving more warily, Jaina inspected every visible side. She neither saw nor detected anything new. However, as she started to pay attention to the aura surrounding it, the archmage noticed something about the pulsations.

Jaina quickly returned to Kalec and felt his pulse. This time, though, the spellcaster simultaneously turned her gaze to the relic.

The pulsations matched the throbbing in Kalec’s throat. The artifact had become attuned to his life . . . or perhaps had attuned him to its spellwork.

In either case, Jaina Proudmoore had a plan. With it, she believed that she could finally free Kalec from the artifact’s overwhelming influence.

There remained but one flaw with her plan, a flaw that made Jaina hesitate to commit to it even as Kalec began mumbling again. Yes, she could very well free him, but it was just as likely that her attempt would also end in his painful death.

Kalec renewed clawing the floor. His claws tore valleys in the hard surface.

Gritting her teeth, the archmage saw that she had no choice. She immediately began casting.

Casting and praying . . .

•   •   •

Malygos tore his gaze from the ever-swelling Galakrond and concentrated on Tyr. As Tyr lay there, the proto-dragons’ ally had at some point shrunken down to nearly the size he’d been when Malygos had first seen him. A desperate notion ran through Malygos’s mind, a notion that seemed desperate even to Kalec. Yet the dragon agreed with his host that there was no other recourse.

As he had done with his own wounded leg, Malygos exhaled on Tyr’s ruined limb.

The stump froze. The blood ceased flowing. Tyr let out a moan but otherwise seemed to calm.

“Must take him away,” Ysera declared as she joined him.

“Where?” The shadowed region in which the survivors hid appeared to be the most logical conclusion, but if Galakrond followed the scent of Tyr’s blood, then Malygos might end up betraying the ragged refugees. He could not bring himself to do that, and from what he had seen of Tyr, he doubted the two-legged being would have wanted such a sacrifice on his behalf.

“Must take him away,” the yellowish female repeated. Shrugging, she added, “We find somewhere! Just far from Galakrond.”

Kalec’s host glanced up at their monstrous foe. At the moment, Galakrond appeared lost in his latest transformation, but whether that stupor would last a few more seconds or keep on for longer was impossible to say. The fact that Galakrond continued to hover as this happened made Malygos believe that they did not have much time at all.

Without waiting for Ysera to help him, Malygos seized hold of Tyr by his shoulders and took to the sky. Instinct drove him toward the most desolate region he could think of beyond the place where they were already. He only hoped it would be desolate enough and that Galakrond’s condition would give them the time they needed.

Looking over his shoulder, Malygos saw a proto-dragon coming up behind him. Instead of Ysera, it proved to be Alexstrasza. With her hind paws, she seized Tyr’s legs. The weight better distributed, the icy-blue male and Alexstrasza were able to pick up the pace. They matched wing beats as they flew, the coordination further adding to their speed.

Daring to glance back again, Malygos became both more relieved and apprehensive. Relieved because not only did Ysera follow, but also, at a greater distance, followed Neltharion and Nozdormu. Apprehensive because Galakrond had grown yet again and changed form somewhat. His body was now bulkier, and jagged spikes dotted the upper part of his torso. And although he continued to hover, he looked finally to be stirring.

Alexstrasza, too, had been peering back at Galakrond. “Fly faster,” she suddenly suggested to Malygos. “Lower. Galakrond will not see us so soon.”

The icy-blue male nodded—

And the vision shifted.

The cold, stark landscape startled Kalec, for at first, he thought he was back in his own era. The high peaks, the desolate, flat plains beyond—he knew this place.

They were in what would someday be the Dragonblight.

Malygos and Alexstrasza still held on to Tyr, but now they descended. A choice had been made, but why it was this particular location was not clear in Malygos’s thoughts. Kalec assumed that they had simply chosen somewhere they hoped would not be readily discovered by Galakrond.

With extreme care, the pair set Tyr on the chilly ground, then alighted next to him. Malygos peered around as if expecting something, but even Kalec’s host did not seem to know just what he sought. Alexstrasza looked to Malygos, as did the rest once they landed.

“Here?” Neltharion finally growled. “No good hunting. Grazers far from here. Some good hiding in mountains, but too open here.”

“Here,” the icy-blue male replied with a certainty that did not match the knowledge Kalec could glean from his host’s mind. Malygos simply knew that he had to come to this place.

Nozdormu looked satisfied with the vague answer but then asked, “What now?”

Malygos looked south, deeper into the flat, stark plains that made up much of the Dragonblight. “That way.”

He started off, only to have Ysera block his path. With a puzzled expression, she gestured with her snout behind Malygos. “What about Tyr?”

Kalec’s host glanced back. Both he and the blue dragon had somehow forgotten the keeper’s presence. While Malygos took this in stride, Kalec wondered at the proto-dragon’s memory lapse. It was too sudden.

Fluttering off the ground, Malygos took gentle hold of Tyr again. As far as Kalec could tell, Tyr looked no worse than before, but whether that was good or bad was impossible for the blue dragon to say. He knew only that the proto-dragons had to do more for Tyr very soon.

But what? Kalec wondered. Had it been he to decide, he would have figured out a magic spell to preserve Tyr until some method of healing could be found, but the proto-dragons did not have any ability to do even that.

Magic. . . . Now Kalec felt as if he had forgotten something else that was vital, something having to do with his own existence.

Something to do with . . . the Nexus?

Malygos chose that moment to descend again. Focusing on the landscape below, Kalec at first did not see anything other than more icy ground. Then a slightly darker spot caught his attention. As Malygos drew nearer, Kalec realized that the dark spot was a frozen lake. The blue dragon could not remember such a spot in his time, but he knew that his memory was faultier than he had originally thought.

Landing on the edge of the lake, Malygos again set Tyr down, this time placing the keeper on his back. That allowed Kalec to study the prone form. Tyr’s breathing looked shallow but regular, and the stump was still protected by the frost Malygos had previously sprayed over it. The proto-dragon carefully exhaled on the savage wound again, reinforcing his earlier efforts. Yet, doubts about Tyr’s survival once more began to creep into the mind of Kalec’s host, doubts the blue dragon shared.

Despite that, Malygos abruptly abandoned Tyr for the frozen lake. Neltharion and the others joined him, the four looking oddly breathless as they landed.

“So fast!” Neltharion finally managed after taking a couple of big gulps of air. “Malygos flew so fast!”

“Should have waited for us,” Alexstrasza reprimanded him. “Saw a not-living far that way.” She indicated the west. “Maybe others near. . . . If they see us, Galakrond sees us. . . .”

Malygos saw nothing in that direction, and to Kalec he seemed not inclined to be concerned despite Alexstrasza’s sensible words. Again, it was not Malygos as Kalec had come to know him.

The icy-blue male continued to the frozen lake. As he peered down into it, he and Kalec saw some slight movement in the water. That his host was hungry Kalec could understand, but Malygos bordered on the obsessive.

In fact, Kalec’s host was persistent in pushing the other four to join him. “Come! Must eat! Strength needed!”

Neltharion obeyed without question, his appetite always the greatest of the five. Nozdormu looked dubious, then nodded. Ysera quietly followed the three.

Only Alexstrasza did not move. “What of Tyr?”

“He sleeps,” the icy-blue male responded. “Let him.”

The answer was not said with coldness but with practicality. Alexstrasza considered the suggestion, then finally nodded and joined the four. Kalec would have preferred that someone watched Tyr, but now all five of the proto-dragons were eager to feed.

The ice supported not only Malygos’s weight but also that of the rest of the group. Nozdormu scratched at the ice but, despite his sharp claws, made little headway. Neltharion looked ready to stomp on the frozen surface—which would have no doubt shattered all the ice, including where the five stood—but Alexstrasza quickly hissed and shook her head.

With the others watching, she chose a spot a little farther into the lake, then carefully exhaled. The concentrated flame melted a hole into the thick ice until water bubbled up to the top. She expanded the hole until it was a satisfactory width.

Although Alexstrasza had created the hole, she let Neltharion feed first. He eagerly leaned over it, then suddenly thrust his head down.

The charcoal-gray male withdrew, a thick fish in his mouth. Grunting with satisfaction, he stepped back.

Alexstrasza went next, her task taking slightly longer before she caught sight of her prey.

Malygos finally took his turn. He had barely leaned over when another fat fish swam into range. Catching it was as simple a task for Kalec’s host as it had been for the others.

As the icy-blue male backed away, Ysera moved toward the hole. Malygos turned to the shore, his catch still wriggling in his jaws. Once off the ice, the proto-dragon surveyed the chilly landscape. There was no sign of either Galakrond or any of the undead. Malygos focused his attention on the fish, tearing into it with such gusto that Kalec wished his host would shut his eyes so that the blue dragon would not have to watch.

Trying to concentrate on anything else, Kalec shifted his thoughts to Tyr. That the proto-dragons had left the keeper in order to eat was not entirely a surprise, but they needed to find other aid for Tyr as soon as possible. Kalec wondered where the other keepers were. Did they not sense Tyr’s urgent situation? The blue dragon had thought that they would have some kind of link with one another, something that would—

A ragged hiss arose from Malygos’s right. Both Kalec and his host recognized the foul sound.

How the two emaciated proto-dragons had snuck up on the party, neither Malygos nor Kalec knew. There was no time to consider that, either, for one of the undead lunged for Malygos, its yellowed teeth dripping with a sickening green fluid that surely boded ill if it even touched the living proto-dragon.

Spinning to the side, Malygos brought his tail around. Like a whip, it caught the undead’s hind leg. Malygos pulled just as what passed for the brain of the monster registered the attack.

The cadaverous proto-dragon fell onto its side. However, Malygos’s tail briefly became tangled with the fiend, leaving Kalec’s host vulnerable to the second undead.

But a hard column of sand struck the creature, sending it flying. As it landed, a plume of flame draped over it. The dry flesh ignited.

Despite that, the burning undead rose. So, too, did the first.

Freeing his tail, Malygos swung in the opposite direction. This time, he knocked the first corpse toward the lake.

While Kalec’s host had not done so with any other intention than to bowl his foe over, the sprawling undead landed just in front of Ysera. Adapting quickly, the smaller female used her tail to help the monster continue its slide—but in one particular direction.

The struggling corpse plunged into the hole in the ice. It clawed the edges, seeking some hold.

With the lightest tap of his hind paw, Neltharion made the ice shake. It was enough to put an end to what little hold the undead had.

The shriveled proto-dragon vanished below. Through Malygos, Kalec caught a glimpse of the thing flowing away from the gap before sinking into the frozen depths.

The other undead, entirely oblivious to the fire raging over its body, trudged toward Alexstrasza. Before she could exhale, Nozdormu unleashed another column of sand.

The column hit squarely. Combined with the damage already inflicted by the flames, the sand shattered the creature, sending sizzling fragments all over the area. Some of those continued to move for several moments after landing, then gradually stilled.

Moving out onto the ice, Malygos stared into the frozen lake. After a few seconds, he spotted the first undead. The creature once again moved toward the surface, still searching for a path out.

Heading to the hole, Kalec’s host exhaled on the opening. It took little effort to freeze the already sluggish liquid. The proto-dragon stepped back. Even if the undead did reach the hole, it would find no exit now.

Malygos returned to the others. Neltharion was in the process of prodding various bits of burnt cadaver in order to assure himself that nothing remained animated. Nozdormu had once more started on his fish, and Alexstrasza was staring at the distant mountains, her expression thoughtful. Only Ysera paid attention to Malygos as he returned.

Kalec’s host eyed the remnants of the one creature. Something bothered him, but the proto-dragon did not know what. That stirred a similar concern in Kalec, who felt that he had also missed something earlier.

The icy-blue male’s head snapped up. He whirled to where he had left Tyr.

The body was gone. Only a few faint specks of blood decorated the impression Tyr’s form had made.

Leaping past the others, Malygos searched in every direction. Yet no matter where he looked, there was no trace, not even the least of trails.

“Gone,” Ysera murmured to him. “Gone.”

“Where? How?”

She shrugged.

The others had finally taken notice of the situation. They joined in a quick search, Neltharion even darting over the frozen lake, but all to no avail.

“Lost. Tyr lost,” Malygos snarled, angrier with himself than with anyone else. He considered Tyr his to protect.

But while the proto-dragons continued what they obviously considered a fruitless hunt for the missing Tyr, Kalec, his only recourse to think, finally realized what had bothered him. When Malygos had turned toward the shore, fish in his mouth, his gaze had passed where Tyr had been set down.

The only problem, Kalec now realized, was that Tyr had already vanished by then.

Something had taken the keeper . . . something that Kalec could not help but think had done so with a purpose other than to eat. . . .

TWO

UNDER GALAKROND’S EYE

“What now?” Neltharion asked. “What now?”

Malygos gave it strong consideration, his mind darting over a number of choices with a clarity that impressed Kalec.

However, it was Alexstrasza who answered first, firmly stating what Malygos had also concluded. “We must fight.”

There were no protests, no refusals. Both Malygos and Kalec were pleased by how quickly the rest agreed with her suggestion, and Kalec began to remember the leadership role that Alexstrasza had assumed as one of the five Great Aspects. His host also appeared relieved that some of the responsibility for their chances had been taken up by another. Even Ysera did not argue with the decision, although judging from her expression, she appeared to have doubts about something. Kalec guessed it had to do with her own strength. While she was very determined, she showed signs of not having recovered nearly as much as her companions, despite the meal.

His host vaguely noticed the same but said nothing. Meanwhile, the others awaited Malygos’s word on their course. His thoughts were still of import to them, he, after all, having been the one first picked for contact by Tyr. Malygos had been more than happy to turn to Tyr when the odd being had appeared. Tyr had looked so clever, so confident, and despite appearing smaller, he radiated a power far exceeding any individual proto-dragon’s.

Tyr was nowhere to be found, though, and there was no sign of what had taken him or in which direction they had gone. To a creature such as a proto-dragon, the most logical conclusion was that a beast had taken the body and even now was feasting on Tyr.

And that left facing Galakrond to the five, with Malygos obviously seen by the others as one of the party’s more clever planners.

Kalec understood all that passed through the icy-blue male’s mind, but he had additional considerations. More than ever, he was certain that something with a more intelligent purpose had stolen Tyr away. Yet that availed Malygos and the rest of the proto-dragons nothing—

Neltharion let out a warning hiss. The five immediately crouched low.

Near the mountains, three figures slowly flew northeast. There was something in their movements that did not indicate the fluidity with which proto-dragons soared through the sky. Although they were fast, these flew with halting, almost haphazard motions.

“Not-living,” Nozdormu muttered.

The three forms vanished among the peaks. Malygos hissed. He had noticed something that even Kalec had not seen at first. “Fly too smart. Not like others. Search too good. Not-living do not think. They eat. Only eat.”

Neltharion looked puzzled, but the other three understood what Malygos meant. So did Kalec. The animated corpses had acted with intelligence, something they entirely lacked.

“Galakrond is their master,” Alexstrasza blurted. “They hunt what he hunts.”

Malygos finished the thought. “And he hunts us. You said before. The not-living. They see us . . . Galakrond sees us.”

It was probably not quite so clear-cut as that, but Kalec, too, had no doubt that if the undead located them, Galakrond would find out. The behemoth evidently did have control over his emaciated victims. Indeed, it was surprising that, with two of them having just battled the defenders, Galakrond had not already appeared.

Studying the land again, Malygos focused on the mountains. “We go there.”

Their gazes followed the direction in which he pointed his snout. The undead had only passed beyond that region a minute before.

“They search there,” Alexstrasza reminded Malygos.

He shook his head. “No . . . they searched there before.”

There was logic to Malygos’s thinking but not enough that Kalec would have readily agreed to such a course. However, Malygos’s comrades were more amenable, nodding and following as the icy-blue male took off. Kalec was pleased to see that Malygos at least kept low to the ground, the choice in altitude more likely to keep the proto-dragons from being easily seen.

They reached the mountains quickly, but not quickly enough for Malygos or Kalec. Kalec’s host slipped in among the sharp peaks, seeking cover wherever possible and watching for undead that might have done the same at Galakrond’s direction.

Turn here.

Malygos did so instinctively before both he and Kalec wondered just who or what had told him to. It had not been a voice that his ears could hear, but his mind could.

Confused, the proto-dragon pulled up short. Neltharion almost collided with him. The five hovered as Malygos all but spun in search of the speaker.

But instead of finding that, he found Galakrond.

His shadow covered the narrow pass through which they flew. The smaller proto-dragons instantly separated, heading to whatever overhang or other cover they could locate. It was not that any sought to abandon the others; they knew that their only chance was for them to scatter. There was not enough protection in any one direction for all five.

The shadow spread everywhere. Yet it was nothing compared with the first glimpse of Galakrond’s immense body hovering over the area. The huge proto-dragon kept passing above without end, so great had he grown.

Malygos waited for Galakrond to completely pass—only to see the misshapen leviathan pause. One huge hind paw, large enough to grab at least three of them whole, came crashing down on a peak. A landslide commenced, tons of rock spilling down where Malygos knew that Alexstrasza and Nozdormu had taken different hiding places.

The deadly downpour continued. It had not been done out of intention; Galakrond was just that heavy. Another landslide rumbled in the distance, where, no doubt, his other hind paw had settled.

With somewhat ponderous movements, Galakrond shifted position. That resulted in additional collapses but nothing that threatened as much as the previous. A smaller forepaw—smaller only in comparison with the hind paws—came into view. Galakrond was backing up, possibly to search in the very region where they hid.

Worse, even without yet bringing his head back, Galakrond had already inspected the vicinity, the extra eyes eagerly darting here and there. Malygos pressed harder against the rocks, certain more than once that he was spotted. Yet Galakrond did not leap back and thrust his head down in order to devour him. Instead, the savage behemoth shifted around so that his forepaw became more evident, and then he moved forward again.

The new landslides that action brought about were a small threat compared with not only the first but also what would have happened had Galakrond seen any of them. As the gargantuan proto-dragon’s tail finally vanished over one peak, Malygos exhaled in the relief that both he and Kalec felt.

The mountains around them shook.

Scarcely a breath later, Galakrond’s head thrust over the area. He did not look Malygos’s way but stared down in the vicinity where Malygos remembered Ysera heading. The icy-blue male could not see her, but he was certain that the very shadows at which Galakrond stared most attentively were the ones hiding Alexstrasza’s sister.

The misshapen behemoth hissed. A hint of the foul mist he had earlier exhaled drifted from the massive jaws. Fortunately, it proved to be only an aftereffect of his breathing and not a focused assault. Still, Galakrond continued to try to see what lay in the shadows below. He did not glow anymore, a fact that worked to the smaller proto-dragons’ favor, as the glow would have been strong enough to illuminate most, if not all, of the shadowed region.

Suddenly, Galakrond began coughing. Within seconds, the coughing grew so intense that Malygos wondered if perhaps they might be saved by Galakrond simply succumbing to whatever afflicted him. That was not to be, though, for after a few thunderous moments, the coughing subsided.

But during that fit, Kalec observed minute changes in Galakrond. Some of the extra appendages and eyes shrank, and a few even shriveled to little more than mottled flesh. Even when the fit ended, those did not revert to how they had been before.

Kalec feared that his host would miss what he now noticed, but soon discovered that he had underestimated Malygos. Suppressing a hiss, Malygos stored the knowledge away as he waited for Galakrond to depart.

After another brief study of the area below, Galakrond finally moved on. However, Malygos did not move for several minutes afterward, nor could he see any of the others shifting position. After the sudden return, none of the five wanted to take the chance that Galakrond might come back.

Finally risking himself, Malygos darted from his hiding place to where he had seen Alexstrasza disappear. The remnants of the landslide at her location at first concerned him greatly. However, as he neared, she thrust her snout out of the deeper shadows and sniffed the air before fully coming into sight.

“The others?” she asked worriedly, her greatest concern without a doubt for her sister.

Malygos could only shrug. They headed to where Nozdormu had last been seen and where even more rocks buried much of the area. Unlike Alexstrasza, though, Nozdormu sat perched atop the rubble, waiting expectantly for his comrades.

“Hurt?” he asked both. When they shook their heads, he stretched his wings. The left one moved noticeably more slowly than the right. “Pain . . . but only pain.”

Despite Nozdormu sounding unperturbed, Kalec could tell that Malygos and Alexstrasza were concerned. A minor injury could still slow Nozdormu at a critical time.

For all of her worry over Nozdormu, Alexstrasza changed the subject to one dearer to her. “Ysera?”

“Here.” The yellowish female alighted just behind her sister. “Safe.” To Kalec, Ysera sounded slightly annoyed, as if she did not want her sibling to be so fearful for her, despite the dangerous predicament through which they had come.

They waited a moment more before Malygos cautiously asked what was probably on all their minds. “Neltharion?”

None of the others offered news. Malygos hissed. Taking flight, he soared toward the charcoal-gray male’s last known location . . . only to pull back abruptly at what he found.

The spot Neltharion had chosen had been hit by far more rubble than any of the other locations. Eyeing it, Malygos could not imagine any hope of survival. Kalec shared his doubt, despite managing to recall that Neltharion should survive—to eventually become Deathwing.

Then a faint sound farther on attracted Malygos. Simultaneously, Alexstrasza and the others alighted next to Kalec’s host. They, too, heard the sound.

Scrambling over the rocks, Malygos discovered that the overhang the charcoal-gray male had rushed to extended farther than first assumed. While that offered hope, the fact that part of the overhang had also collapsed under the weight of the avalanches did not. Neltharion might still be alive, but what condition was he in?

The sound arose again, this time nearly under Malygos’s paws. He leapt back, concerned that his weight might be crushing his companion.

Malygos planted his head against the rubble. He heard movement, followed by the intake of breath.

“Here!” With his hind paws, he began excavating the pile. The others took up positions nearby, Alexstrasza helping to shovel away the rocks that Malygos pushed back. Nozdormu moved to help Malygos with his task, only to have Ysera shove her way in front of him. She began digging with earnest. Nozdormu finally joined Alexstrasza in clearing away what had been dug up so that Malygos and Ysera could shovel more from where Neltharion had been buried.

It grew silent below them. That made Malygos dig harder, but to his surprise, Ysera dug harder yet. She moved at a manic pace, and although Kalec’s host did not think about it, Kalec understood that she had to be thinking of those Talonixa had buried alive. Ysera did not want Neltharion suffering such a fate, even though a part of Kalec wished that the proto-dragons would leave Neltharion to perish. A future without Deathwing was something generations of creatures on Azeroth would have been very grateful for.

But Malygos and the others worked diligently to rescue one who was their friend. Ysera let out a hiss and used her weaker forepaws to pull a rock away. That revealed part of a wing. It was immediately evident that Neltharion’s wings had been pinned around him, which explained his inability to assist in his own rescue. One thing that had saved him, though, was that the part of the overhang where his head lay had remained intact. Had it collapsed, Neltharion’s skull would have been crushed like an egg.

The future Deathwing hacked as he tried to breathe in fresh air, the manner of his near death an irony not lost on Kalec, who knew that Neltharion would somehow become the Aspect of Earth. Still pinned, he had to wait as Malygos and Ysera uncovered the entire wing before he was able to move. Once the wing was free, Neltharion started stretching it, which also enabled him to use one of his forepaws. While weak compared with his hind paws, it was still capable of shoving away more of the rocks keeping him trapped.

As they freed Neltharion, his injuries became more apparent. While, like Nozdormu, he had survived intact, severe bruises covered his body, and blood spattered him in several places. There were some rips in his wings, but a glance by Malygos revealed none that looked as if it would impair the charcoal-gray male’s flying.

Neltharion stumbled to his paws. He twisted his neck around and looked up. “Galakrond?”

“Gone,” Malygos replied. “For now . . .”

“So powerful,” Ysera muttered as she stepped closer. “So powerful! What can we do?”

Her sister did not hesitate. “Fight . . . or die.”

Neltharion, his breath recovered, snorted. “Hmmph! Probably die.” But immediately, he added, “Better to die fighting, though.”

“Better to die fighting, yes,” Malygos agreed, eyeing Alexstrasza most of all. “Better to live after, though.”

“Better, yes,” she echoed.

But just how they could do that was a tremendous question. First and foremost, they had to find another place to hide while they considered how to combat what appeared invincible.

Follow the ridge.

While the thought had eased into Malygos’s mind with such subtlety that the proto-dragon did not realize it was not his own, Kalec knew that it had come from elsewhere. He could not identify its source; it did not sound like Tyr, who surely would have identified himself. And if it was another keeper, why would the speaker not say so? Curiously, it reminded Kalec of something, but just what escaped him.

And in truth, he had to admit, it mattered not. Kalec still had no part in this endless vision except as an imprisoned observer. While he railed at that, it was the only existence he knew . . . or, at least, remembered at the moment.

But I have another life! Kalec suddenly insisted to himself. The—the Nexus and—and—

There was a name the blue dragon wanted—no, needed—to recall. Not his own. He had remembered it only a short time ago. A female name. One Kalec should have known well—and one that more often had been part of his thoughts before these visions had overtaken him.

That realization at last stirred some of those forgotten memories. Ja—Jalya? Jay—Jaina? Jaina!

His most immediate recollections returned full-blown. Jaina was possibly trying to enter the Nexus, and if she was, she was in grave danger.

I have to save her! I have to—

The vision abruptly faded. The darkness that Kalec had so often cried out against he now welcomed wholeheartedly, if only it would bring him back to the Nexus.

Something hard lay against him, or, rather, he lay against a hard surface. Despite being unable to see it, Kalec had to assume that it was the floor of the chamber, and that further encouraged him. He tried to summon enough strength to move some part of his body.

Ka—

He knew that voice, but he wondered again whose it was. Jaina. It was Jaina. He had already forgotten. How can this be? How can I keep forgetting?

The artifact. Kalec now discovered he had forgotten the accursed relic!

Kalec?

Jaina’s voice came clearer but fainter. She repeated his name, but this time, he could barely hear her.

In desperation, Kalec tried to reach out. To his surprise, he felt his nails—claws?—scrape the floor. The act sent shivers through his nerves, but he welcomed that discomfort for the slight sense of reality it gave him. He focused on that and on Jaina, trying to create a more powerful anchor by combining both.

Kalec! Listen to me!

Her voice came stronger again. Simultaneously, the blue dragon managed to scrape the floor a second time. Sensation began to return to his body. He felt the blood flowing through his limbs and torso. What sounded like breathing—whether his own or hers, he could not say—echoed in his ears.

Jaina! Jaina! Kalec cursed his mouth, which still did not function. He had to let her know that he could hear her—

A distant roar drowned out Jaina’s voice just as she repeated his name.

The roar shook Kalec, not only because of its suddenness but also because he knew it not as a dragon’s but as a proto-dragon’s.

Jaina! Jai— Kalec hesitated. Did he have the name right? And whose name was it, anyway? A female’s, certainly, but the only females he was familiar with were Alexstrasza and her sister Ysera. Had he tried to call one of them?

The darkness faded . . . and he and Malygos, as it had always been, flew together.

But this time, Kalec knew that things had changed. He could not say how, though. He still existed as some hidden part of Malygos, ever there observing. Kalec didn’t know how that had begun; he only knew that he was and would always be linked to his proto-dragon host.

And forgotten completely, at least for now and perhaps always, was a future where a frightened female voice continued to call his name in vain.

•   •   •

Jaina collapsed. Her plan had failed. She had made an ambitious attempt to bind herself to the link between the artifact and Kalec so she could, by matching the pulsations, reach out better to the unconscious dragon. In this manner, the archmage had intended to draw him to her and, thus, back to reality.

But the artifact had proved to have the greater hold on him. For a few moments, Jaina had almost succeeded. However, the bond she had forged had been cut without warning. The relic had corrected for her intrusion, just as it had for a time corrected for her attempts to invade the Nexus in the first place.

And yet . . .

Jaina pushed herself up from the floor, also using that moment to study Kalec. His breathing perfectly coincided with the artifact’s pulsations. His body had contorted more, becoming less humanoid but not quite that of a dragon. There were traits growing on him, especially his torso, that did not remind her of any of those she had seen among the various dragonflights, yet they were still vaguely familiar. She had seen them before.

Some other creature—what was it? Jaina Proudmoore had studied virtually every major beast during her training. Members of the Kirin Tor had to know the flora and fauna of Azeroth for a variety of reasons, many of them dealing with survival. This one she had definitely seen—

A proto-dragon?

It did not seem possible. While she was aware that Kalec could assume more than one form, Jaina had no idea why he would take on that of something akin to a dragon but not nearly so powerful. Still, when she took a closer look, more proto-dragon traits became apparent. Worse, one of Kalec’s arms was clearly shorter than it should have been, another change that added to his similarity to the beasts.

Kalec suddenly let out a loud roar, not quite like that of a dragon. As he did, he altered further. His feet became more ponderous, as the hind limbs of proto-dragons were when compared with their forelimbs.

And at the same time, the artifact’s pulsations grew more rapid. The relic’s aura intensified, and it enveloped Kalec, too.

Jaina reached for him, only to nearly singe her fingertips. There had been no trace of heat from the aura before, but now it burned like fire. Kalec’s shifting continued unchecked. His body darkened.

The archmage shielded herself and tried a second time to get to Kalec, only to retreat from even stronger heat. Gasping, Jaina saw also that Kalec’s breathing quickened more, ever matching the increase in the artifact’s pulsations.

This can’t go on long! It can’t! Jaina understood all too well that there would come a point where his body could not withstand this mad metamorphosis. A creature of magic he might be, but he still had mortal limitations.

Kalec, although he was a dragon, would literally burn out, and thus far, Jaina had no idea how to save him.

THREE

FIVE AGAINST THE IMPOSSIBLE

Malygos and Kalec followed the ridge just as the voice in the proto-dragon’s head had suggested, but if they expected something spectacular or startling at the end, they were both disappointed. Instead, the mountains opened up into a bowl-shaped valley that, for some reason, bothered Kalec. Malygos simply saw it as another destination, one that Galakrond perhaps would not search or already had searched and abandoned.

A stream flowed through the area. The five proto-dragons landed to drink. And think. Never in their lives had they had to think so much. Glancing at the others, Malygos wondered if they felt as worn out as he did.

He blinked. Far beyond the five, a rounded rock drifted where the water widened. Even proto-dragons knew that rocks did not drift, so Malygos fluttered up into the air and flew to the object.

Kalec’s host veered back the moment he recognized what it was that lay half-submerged. As Malygos had suspected, it was another proto-dragon body. However, as he finally dared to alight next to it in the stream, he noticed something peculiar.

A splash behind him announced Neltharion’s more enthusiastic arrival. Striding up to Malygos, the charcoal-gray male scrutinized the find.

“Dead. Galakrond. We should destroy before it rises.”

Malygos shook his head. “Already did. This was not-living that is again dead.”

The other proto-dragon let out a snort of disbelief. He prodded the corpse, which, having already been rotting before its second “death,” now easily began breaking apart in the water. “How can not-living be not-living again unless we destroy it?”

Kalec, ever paying attention, also wondered. His first inclination was that either another proto-dragon had managed to do as Neltharion suggested, or the undead had, for some reason, simply collapsed. Yet Kalec had seen no evidence of the second occurring, and his host was also disinclined to that answer.

Which only left the question of who had indeed destroyed this fiend. Another keeper?

Malygos leaned closer. His sharp sense of smell detected another scent, one that at first he assumed had to be there for a very logical reason. Then, as he eyed the decaying remains, something else about their condition registered. Before, they had looked dry. Now, they were barely holding together. When Malygos did a little prodding of his own, the part not yet touched by the flowing water simply crumbled to ash.

As that happened, the scent—or stench—Kalec’s host had smelled increased tenfold.

The source escaped Neltharion’s mouth before the other proto-dragon even knew why he spoke the name. “Galakrond!”

“No Galakrond!” Malygos interjected. In a more subdued voice, he added, “Not anymore.”

“What do you mean?”

Even Kalec was not sure of Malygos’s thoughts at that moment, for what little he could read from them did not make sense. Yet Malygos quickly verified those questionable thoughts. “Galakrond was here. Galakrond . . . devoured this not-living.”

Neltharion looked at him as if he were mad. The other three, just joining to see what fascinated the pair so much, had heard Malygos’s declaration.

“Galakrond ate this . . . this not-living?” Nozdormu asked in utter puzzlement. “Already ate it alive! Why eat it dead?”

“What’s left to eat, then?” asked Alexstrasza, sniffing at the corpse and wrinkling her nose. “Galakrond, yes. Not long ago.” The female’s eyes narrowed in thought. “Malygos is right.”

“But this was dead!” Neltharion insisted. “Long dead! No meat! No life!”

Indeed, there was only the growing odor of rot. However, Malygos smelled a wrongness in that rot, as if something else tied to it also escaped at the same time.

“This lived. This died,” he began, seeking to organize his words enough to make sure that everyone—himself included—understood the full extent. “Became not-living. Moves but is dead. Dead but moves.”

Kalec was naturally the first one to grasp what Malygos was leading up to. Even as a former Aspect of Magic, Kalec doubted that he would have come to what was the only possible conclusion before his young host had.

Of the other four proto-dragons, it was Ysera who comprehended quickest. “Not-living move. Something moves them. No blood. No life. But something.”

“ ‘Not-life’?” Neltharion muttered. “They have ‘not-life’?”

The proto-dragons had not lived long in a world full of undead, as Kalec abruptly recalled he had, but they had come to grasp an important point. Still, the animated corpses of Galakrond’s victims were not exactly like most of the beings the blue dragon gradually remembered having confronted. What drove these appeared merely to be as Malygos hinted, a force that was perhaps a by-product of Galakrond’s absorption of the living creatures’ life essence. It was almost a parody of that essence, which made calling it “not-life” very appropriate.

But to go from that step to Galakrond now absorbing this essence was disturbing. Why? Kalec asked himself, aware that he echoed Malygos in this regard. Why?

Again, it was Kalec’s host who discovered the possible reason. Malygos raised his head and looked off in the distance. Only Kalec knew that he listened for something in particular.

“No cries,” Malygos rasped. “No calls.”

“All fear Galakrond,” Alexstrasza pointed out. “All flee or hide . . . or die.”

“Galakrond still grows, still changes. Proto-dragons grow when they eat enough.” The icy-blue male used his wings to indicate the mountains. “Nothing else for Galakrond. Nothing big enough. Nothing simple . . . except not-living.”

Even though all five understood now, Kalec saw through Malygos that they nevertheless did not want to accept such facts. Galakrond devouring what animated the undead was to them like the behemoth moving far beyond cannibalism.

However, what bothered Kalec most was what this new and horrific feeding meant for Galakrond’s continuing metamorphosis. If absorbing the essence of his victims had turned him into such a misshapen monster, it followed that this would only twist him more.

The five proto-dragons took no heart in the possibility that the number of undead might eventually be eradicated by Galakrond’s hunger. They knew that the foremost focus of Galakrond’s existence remained seeking out living prey, especially them.

To Malygos, that gave him no choice. Still, once again, he tried to keep the rest from what appeared a doomed quest. Malygos looked to the other four. “Must face Galakrond. Now. Alone.”

“No.” Alexstrasza pushed herself into the middle of the group. “We are family. We fight together. Always.”

She did not mean family in the sense that they were simply loyal friends but, rather, as if the five of them were of a like color and appearance, born from the same kind of eggs. There was no deeper connection.

“Yes,” Neltharion agreed, with some indignation at Malygos’s initial suggestion. “We fight as family! We fight together!”

“But we are not family,” Ysera countered. “We fight differently. Not same.” She did not say it in denial of her sister’s words but with the tone that those differences were still important.

Malygos nodded, having considered that and also seeing it as their greatest strength. Perhaps their only hope, too.

“We fight differently,” he said. “We fight together. More. We use differences. Tyr showed some, but Tyr not proto-dragon. Not plan like proto-dragons. We must plan like proto-dragons.”

It made the only sense to Malygos, although Kalec was not quite so certain. Tyr, for all his might, for all his obvious wisdom, had led the five as if they fought like him. He had used their individual abilities, yes, but in terms of complementing his own. He had been fighting a proto-dragon—a huge proto-dragon—as if facing something like himself.

But Tyr had been correct in that their individual abilities could work in concert better than if they had all been of one true family. Five Malygoses would not have had a better chance. Five Neltharions would not have.

And Malygos also had to admit that not every combination of five different proto-dragons could have worked together as well as when Tyr had led them. He could only imagine what a group that included someone like Coros would have done against Galakrond.

We have not won, Malygos curtly reminded himself. More likely, we will lose everything.

But even more than for himself, Malygos remained concerned for his four companions. He had to make certain that he guided them as best as possible, and that meant using their different skills to their utmost.

I am only a proto-dragon! The thought jolted through Malygos with such force that Kalec also felt the flash of fear. Still, all Malygos had to do was look at Neltharion and the rest—who, in turn, waited for his word—to know that there was no retreating from his dominant role.

But there was another who seemed willing to help take much of the burden from him. He looked to Alexstrasza.

She already appeared to understand his concern. With a brief, solemn glance at Malygos, Alexstrasza immediately focused on Neltharion. “How do your kind fight? Tell us . . . show us.”

Neltharion bared his teeth in a reptilian grin. He spread his wings and began to display the fighting skills of his family—

The vision shifted, but while Kalec would have liked to know more about the abilities of the other four, he was not surprised about the change. In fact, for the first time, the blue dragon felt comfortable with the shift. He did not see that this might not be a good sign for him.

The scene before him could not be taking place all that long after the previous one. The five remained in the mountains, but now they perched atop part of a crooked peak, watching and waiting.

But the sky remained conspicuously devoid of a creature so vast he could hardly be hiding. There were also no signs of the undead, which disturbed the group’s leader.

“Where is Galakrond?” Malygos growled. “Where?” He stretched his wings restlessly before finally understanding what they had to do. “Must bring him to us! Must let him know about us!”

He let out a roar. As he expected, it echoed throughout the mountains. Yet to his ears, it did not sound nearly loud enough.

Before Malygos could suggest it, Alexstrasza raised her head and repeated his call. The other three imitated her, all five within seconds shouting as one.

The echoes of their combined cries resounded, even building as they rushed away from their source. As loud as they were, it would still have been impossible for most normal proto-dragons to hear them unless they were within two or three hours’ flight away.

But then, there was nothing normal anymore about Galakrond.

Thunder rose in the east, thunder with an oddly regular pattern.

No, not thunder, Malygos finally deduced. Only the beating of very, very large wings.

And as the rest of the five turned in that direction, the heavens there darkened.

A Galakrond half again as huge as when they had previously seen him moved ponderously toward the five. He hacked and coughed every now and then, and each time he did, the aura faded slightly.

Malygos took note of that as he rose from his perch. Not for a moment did he think that Galakrond would fall easy prey to them, if defeating him was at all possible. However, any potential weakness had to be exploited if there was any hope for the proto-dragons.

Confident that the others knew their parts, Malygos flew without hesitation toward Galakrond.

The behemoth ceased coughing. The aura returned. Galakrond stared at the puny figures approaching—and laughed. The mountains shook at the sound, which would have easily drowned out the smaller cries Malygos and his companions had uttered earlier.

“Little morsels!” he bellowed almost congenially. “There you are!”

The five defenders said nothing. They spread out as they approached.

“My meals grow dry, so dry,” Galakrond continued merrily. “Nasty taste, but I am so hungry. . . .” The brutal eyes focused on Malygos. “I am alwaysss hungry.”

He exhaled.

The five had been waiting for just such a move. They immediately rose higher in the sky and also separated farther. The noxious mist unloosed by Galakrond spread far and wide, but in trying to keep all five in range, the misshapen behemoth instead came up short against each. Ysera came closest to being caught at the edge of the mist, but a hard push by the yellowish female saved her at the last second.

Hiding his relief at her narrow escape, Malygos bore down on Galakrond from above. The icy-blue proto-dragon opened wide and attacked. The column of frost shot toward the gigantic Galakrond, who met the tiny assault with another mocking laugh.

At that point, Alexstrasza shot in and grazed a long section of Galakrond’s torso with flame. Against the hard hide, the fire did little.

Against the extra eyes, it did much more.

They melted like butter. They dissolved like water. They blackened like wood. With expert aim, Alexstrasza destroyed every eye in a broad section of Galakrond’s left side before immediately soaring far out of sight.

The monstrous proto-dragon roared, but this time in a tone that brought grim pleasure to Malygos and Kalec. Galakrond had experienced pain that he had not suffered even against Tyr.

“I will devour you first!” he shouted at the vanishing Alexstrasza. “I will savor your life! I will make you one of mine, and then I will devour you again!”

Malygos could not help shuddering as he continued with his part of the attack. All five faced the same potential fate: being turned into one of the not-living and then having even that existence serve as a bitter but still desired snack.

No sooner had Galakrond turned to look after Alexstrasza than a column of sand coursed over the other side of his torso. Spread in much the same manner as Alexstrasza’s flames, Nozdormu’s assault also concentrated on whatever extra eyes had grown there. At such velocity, the sand cut like tiny claws, at the very least blinding by irritation but more often scoring and scratching orbs until no ability for returning sight remained.

And as the fire-orange female had done, Nozdormu shot off in another direction.

Tyr had made some use of the methods by which proto-dragons fought, but that use had been tempered by his non–proto-dragon mind. Malygos’s kind—meaning all families—preferred to hunt alone, but when there was the need to go after very large prey, proto-dragons became adept pack hunters. Packs kept their prey off-balance and fought as partners. Tyr had failed in the end because he had chosen to make himself the primary threat against Galakrond. The lack of equal coordination between Tyr and the five had been the reason for their failure then.

Together, Malygos and Alexstrasza had sought to correct that mistake. They only hoped that they had not simply found another path to failure. There would be no third chance. They fought and won here, or they fought and perished here—and if Tyr was correct in one thing, after their destruction, there would be no hope for their world.

Concern for more than where his next meal came from was not something Malygos would have ever believed possible for himself. He knew that the others had come to be like him; they feared not only for themselves but for everything. They were even willing to sacrifice their lives if it meant saving their world.

Malygos had thus far been the only one of the three to remain dangerously near Galakrond. He now became the rapidly more infuriated monster’s center of attention once again.

But Galakrond did not exhale, as Malygos had calculated he would. Instead, the leviathan reached down with both hind paws and ripped away parts of the nearest mountains. He did so with such speed that Malygos was only just banking away when the huge chunks of solid earth came hurtling after him.

One missile passed Malygos barely a breath later. The icy-blue male gritted his teeth as he waited for the second to do the same.

Unfortunately, it caught his left wing hard instead.

The impact first spun Malygos around. The agony stirred up nearly forgotten pain from previous injuries, but that meant little compared with the short, rapid glimpses of Galakrond that the smaller proto-dragon caught while tumbling in the sky. Galakrond took up more and more of his view each time, and yet Malygos could not right himself any faster.

Worse, he saw that not only were all four of Galakrond’s major paws filled with more dirt and rock, but those extra appendages that Malygos could make out were doing the same. The terrifying behemoth unleashed an immense barrage with only one obvious purpose, ensuring that Kalec’s host would not escape destruction.

Despite the peril to Malygos, he wondered where Ysera was. She had been set to attack when next Malygos distracted their foe, and regardless of Malygos’s own fate, he had expected the others to carry on.

But instead of Ysera, it was Neltharion who dived into the fray, ignoring the part of the plan he was supposed to undertake. He shrieked loudly as he neared Galakrond’s ear, more loudly, in fact, than Malygos could ever recall the charcoal-gray male roaring.

The sonic attack literally shook Galakrond, so close had Neltharion dared to get. A storm of rock and earth rained down on the mountains as the misshapen beast involuntarily released his hold on nearly everything.

Growing too confident, Neltharion remained to watch his assault a moment longer than sense indicated. For that, he received a hard blow as Galakrond’s wing swept forward.

Malygos saw their plan collapsing faster than Tyr’s. He had thought that he and Alexstrasza understood their own kind better than the two-legged being had. Of course, Galakrond, for all his transformation, was also still a proto-dragon. In some ways having forgotten that, Malygos wondered if he and his companions had simply flown into certain doom.

He started forward to help his rescuer, only to have Alexstrasza fly in before him. Like Ysera, apparently, she had abandoned their strike-and-retreat plan, but unlike her missing sister, the fire-orange female had not abandoned her comrades any more than Neltharion had.

Coming from the side where she had blinded Galakrond by searing away his extra eyes, Alexstrasza raced toward the massive gullet. As she closed, she did what Malygos and Kalec thought looked like a choice of suicide. Alexstrasza briefly roared. It was enough to draw Galakrond’s eager attention. Anticipating devouring a tidy morsel, his jaws opened wider.

Alexstrasza exhaled, clearly using every bit of breath she had. A huge plume of fire raked over the gargantuan proto-dragon’s inner mouth, an area as unprotected as the eyes.

The soft flesh near the gullet blackened. Galakrond reared back, all thought of devouring the female proto-dragon gone. Malygos watched, wide-eyed, astounded that their fearsome adversary still had such a tender area. He had thought the region within the maw might be vulnerable, but targeting that had been too much to ask of any of his comrades. What proto-dragon would willingly fly into Galakrond’s mouth?

Alexstrasza, it seemed.

Galakrond began to hack and cough. He violently shook his head. His pained roar resounded so loudly in the mountains that it threatened to deafen the others. Wings flapping, he pushed higher into the sky. The hacking and coughing continued as Galakrond swung his head to and fro in an attempt to ease the burning.

Alexstrasza continued on to Neltharion, who remained aloft but still suffered visible disorientation. She reached out with her hind paws to take his shoulders and guide him to safety.

Over the mountains, Galakrond’s cry came to an abrupt halt. The hacking and coughing faded a moment after. The malevolent eyes of the huge proto-dragon swept over the vicinity.

Although it clearly aggravated his new injuries, Galakrond exhaled long and wide. At the same time, his gaze went beyond Malygos.

A sense of foreboding stirred within Malygos, and he hurriedly looked over his shoulder.

More than a dozen not-living converged from behind him, cutting off that path. Malygos understood then that Galakrond had also planned ahead—and with better success. The angle at which the not-living flew revealed that they had come from above the cloud cover. Having only found the destroyed corpse, Malygos had assumed that the rest had followed that one into oblivion. Instead, Galakrond had at least Malygos, Neltharion, and Alexstrasza trapped between the undead and the will-sapping mist.

Nozdormu appeared on Galakrond’s other blinded side. He assailed the exhaling monster with one sand blast after another, obviously using himself up but as aware as Malygos of the dire circumstances.

Without turning his head to the brown proto-dragon, Galakrond brought his tail up and, with perfect aim, struck Nozdormu hard.

Stunned, Nozdormu collided with one peak. Chunks of rock flew free. They dropped in among the mountains, accompanied by the limp body of the brown male.

And as the tail withdrew, an increasingly frantic Malygos saw that, like the rest of Galakrond’s macabre form, it had eyes. Eyes that more than made up for those lost to the smaller attackers.

Galakrond continued his impossibly long exhalation. Malygos retreated backward as the cloying mist closed on him. Alexstrasza, still aiding the disoriented Neltharion, was easily caught up in the mist. She attempted to thrust Neltharion ahead of her, but although he tried to fly harder, it was not enough.

A ragged hiss from behind Malygos was his only warning that he had nearly flown into the approaching undead. Kalec’s host spun to face the new threat, well aware that doing so also enabled the mist to cut the distance to its victim.

A hungry pack of undead or a fog that would leave him easy prey for their even hungrier master. Malygos anxiously looked back and forth, trying to find some path to freedom. The mist blanketed everything above and below, and the animated corpses blocked all routes ahead. There was nowhere for the icy-blue male to fly.

And as death encroached from all directions, Malygos and Kalec wondered what had happened to the one missing member of the failed venture.

Where was Ysera?

FOUR

THE FIVE

Jaina knelt between Kalec and the artifact, caught between the knowledge that she needed to work fast to save the blue dragon and the great desire to hold and comfort him if these were to be his last minutes no matter what she attempted. Kalec continued his grisly metamorphosis, the proto-dragon elements far more pronounced and the rate of his breathing so rapid that the archmage could not believe that his lungs had not already exploded.

This can’t be what this device was meant for! Jaina insisted to herself. It makes no sense!

She concentrated on the pulsating artifact. Her eyes widened as she noticed that what she had believed to be a single solid object actually had two components.

“He found something,” Buniq had said. Buniq, who could vanish without a trace even when very near the archmage.

But no sooner had she started to make some connection between the mysterious taunka and the discovery of the second part than Jaina felt as if someone watched her. The spellcaster quickly looked up beyond the artifact.

There was no one there—or, rather, no one there now. Yet a peculiar thought ran through Jaina’s mind, the thought that she had seen someone. Not a dragon and not a human but something closer to the latter in shape. As she concentrated, the archmage imagined that it had been a cloaked and hooded figure a bit taller than even Kalec in his humanoid form.

Jaina knew something of keepers, and while they were much taller—like giants, actually—she was certain that they had the power to make themselves be seen otherwise. Yet even if that was the case, if she had seen some keeper image, Jaina wondered why it had faded away so quickly.

I didn’t imagine it. . . . It stood there. And it had not appeared until Jaina had begun to investigate the fact that there were two components to the artifact, not one.

That also brought her back to Buniq, whom she increasingly considered something other than a taunka. It would not be difficult for a keeper to take on such an illusion, either.

Certain that she had come upon the right track, Jaina investigated where the two pieces looked as if they were fused together. Had it not been for her expert eye, the archmage doubted that she would have noticed. Moreover, they were also blended together by spellwork.

Spellwork . . . Jaina thought again of how she had first confronted the artifact. Perhaps her attack had been too broad for this part of the situation.

Re-creating the symbol, she studied the bonds between the two components, then cast.

The image draped over the smaller part and, thus, where it was sealed to the larger. As that took place, Jaina reinforced her personal spells yet again. She had no idea what might happen, but experience had taught her to expect the worst.

Both parts flared white, blinding her. The archmage fell back, certain that the relic was about to either explode or strike hard against her.

Instead, the bright illumination faded, and the smaller component turned half a circle.

Blinking, Jaina tentatively reached for it.

A stream of white energy struck her forehead. She jolted, but out of surprise, not pain.

And suddenly, Jaina saw . . .

•   •   •

The world rippled.

It did so in a manner Kalec had not experienced before. He felt as if one moment washed over another like waves in the sea. It was disconcerting, even more so because everything he viewed through Malygos’s eyes flowed on just like waves, too. The mist drew closer and closer, Galakrond behind it.

And when Malygos glanced back at the undead, it was the same. As if made of water, they spilled toward him, an image that only served to make them even ghastlier.

We are going to die, Kalec thought with both dread and wonder. He had not believed that Malygos could die, but his memories of his own time had grown so vague that Kalec wondered if they were memories at all or merely fancies.

But that hardly mattered. All that mattered was that he and his host were about to perish in some gruesome manner.

A mournful roar interrupted Kalec’s thoughts and drew Malygos’s notice. The icy-blue male turned to the sound.

Something else had drawn Galakrond’s attention, a pitiful but still-fiery plume exhaled by a straining Alexstrasza. Behind her, Neltharion—once-powerful Neltharion—struggled just to stay aloft. It was immediately clear that Alexstrasza wanted Neltharion to fly off, but he fought to stay near, as if he could help.

Galakrond sneered. Malygos forgotten for the moment, the behemoth exhaled lightly at Alexstrasza, sending another gust of his foul mist over her. What fight the fire-orange female had managed to draw up faded. Worse, in her struggle to keep her wings flapping, Alexstrasza drifted toward their gigantic foe.

Galakrond opened his mouth wide. He waited with amusement as Alexstrasza unwittingly continued toward the massive jaws.

Malygos threw himself forward, choosing the mist over the undead. Kalec was glad for his choice, even as the mist began sapping both their wills, for at least the rippling ceased as soon as that happened. Whatever their fates, the five had shown themselves to be as loyal to one another as any true dragon. Each had tried to save one or more of the others, never shirking, never fearful of death—

No . . . not five. Four . . .

That thought faded with all others as the mist proved too great for Malygos. His charge had turned out to be as futile as Talonixa’s grand one. His wings slowed. It was all he could do to force them to move fast enough to keep him from falling to his death.

Which meant that there was nothing he could do for either Neltharion or, more imminently, Alexstrasza.

As Malygos and Kalec’s own struggle worsened, they saw that the fire-orange female registered her doom. She managed a few flaps that slowed her, but already the jaws began to close on her.

Something dropped onto Galakrond near the side blinded by Alexstrasza’s earlier attack. It landed hard, and as it did, a great gust of sand swept over the gargantuan proto-dragon’s head, blanketing it.

Kalec and his host vaguely made out a battered Nozdormu fighting for a hold as he exhaled again and again. Galakrond sought to shake Nozdormu off. The brown proto-dragon flopped back and forth but kept claws secured. Nozdormu looked very weak, and that he had somehow managed to return to attack Galakrond anew amazed Malygos and Kalec.

But what appeared to be hope for Alexstrasza faded as Galakrond, clearly seeing Nozdormu as more of a nuisance, once more concentrated his focus on her. The respite had not been enough to allow her any true chance of escape. It didn’t even help that, in trying to rid himself of Nozdormu, the monstrous leviathan had forced away much of the mist. Having inhaled so much of it, Alexstrasza, like Malygos and Neltharion, could not recover in time.

Nozdormu let loose with one last blast of sand. It slammed into Galakrond’s brow, but as hard as it hit, it was already evident that the blow would not even distract their horrific foe for more than another breath. Yet that was not Nozdormu’s full intention, for barely had he brought Galakrond’s attention toward him when the blast shifted downward and clogged the huge proto-dragon’s nostrils.

Galakrond instinctively opened his maw wider in search of air—

And in that critical moment, a slighter, yellowish female proto-dragon placed herself before Galakrond and exhaled into his mouth.

He pulled back his head, his expression peculiar. As the mist faded from Malygos and Kalec, they recalled the effect of Ysera’s breath weapon, in some ways akin to that of Galakrond, if not so debilitating.

Ysera did not go to Alexstrasza as Malygos had assumed. Instead, she did the unthinkable—again—and continued her mad assault on Galakrond, all the while keeping herself between him and her sister. Kalec and his host saw that they had underestimated Ysera; perhaps she had been hesitant in her role, but she had not abandoned Alexstrasza or the rest of them.

Indeed, it became clear that Ysera had been the one to aid the injured Nozdormu in reaching Galakrond and that Nozdormu’s attacks had all been designed as feints for Ysera.

Ysera . . . and, perhaps unintentionally, Malygos.

His mind clear, the icy-blue male knew that they would not have another chance. Galakrond hovered, disoriented, but that would not last much longer. If Malygos could—

A hiss warned him of a threat that he had forgotten. Yet when Malygos turned to face the undead, he found them flying even more haphazardly and, in one case, fighting each other. At first perplexed, Malygos realized that Galakrond’s disorientation had affected his rotting slaves.

Malygos exhaled on the fighting pair, sending them falling frozen together. He wanted to deal with the rest, but Ysera’s warning roar brought him back to Galakrond. Alexstrasza’s sister raced about Galakrond’s head, exhaling into the monster’s mouth and slashing with her claws elsewhere. Her adversary kept shaking his head in what seemed irritation but was still a need to clear his mind of the effects of her breath weapon. Malygos admired Ysera’s efforts thus far but could not help noticing that Galakrond’s eyes were becoming more focused. Worse, with a great snort, he finally managed to force the sand from his nostrils, at which point he inhaled huge gasps of air to help speed his recovery.

But in observing all this, Malygos forged a plan. It was akin to a past attack they had tried against Galakrond, but in that attempt, they had fought more as individuals and not as one. Moreover, Galakrond had not been as huge as he currently was. If the five could do as Malygos had earlier dreamed . . .

He rushed to Neltharion, who had at last shaken off his own stupor. “Come! Hurry!”

To his credit, the charcoal-gray male followed without question. Malygos soared to one of the peaks shattered in the struggle. Huge, jagged chunks of stone clung precariously to the mountains of which they had once been wholly a part. Malygos eyed the largest and sharpest one that two proto-dragons could possibly carry with their hind paws.

“Help me!”

Between Neltharion and him, they broke the fragment free. Malygos guided them back to a path toward Galakrond. As the behemoth came into sight, Malygos saw that Alexstrasza had done as he had thought she would: the instant her head had cleared, she had gone to stand with her sister. Now the pair flew in from opposing sides, moving almost as if reading each other’s thoughts. They struck simultaneously, keeping Galakrond from choosing one victim over the other. In the process, they also served to prevent him from noticing the two males’ approach.

But while the sisters and Galakrond saw only one another, Nozdormu caught sight of Malygos and Neltharion. He also saw the rock they brought with them. Whether or not Nozdormu understood just what they planned to do with it, he evidently realized that they needed to get much closer.

Throwing himself up from the relative safety of his current position, the brown proto-dragon managed another exhalation. The column caught the top of Galakrond’s browridge, causing him to look down instinctively as he had before.

As he did that, Alexstrasza and Ysera increased their own assault, now alternating so that as he raised his head again, Galakrond remained concerned only with them.

But just as it seemed things were at last coming together, Neltharion roared, “Not-living!”

Twisting his neck hard, Malygos discovered some of the undead almost nipping at their tails. The creatures did not fly with the relative coordination that they’d first had, which to both Kalec and his host revealed that Galakrond had completely released his hold on them. Whether he had done so intentionally or simply because he had become too distracted to maintain any link could not be said. What did matter was that the animated corpses had returned to whatever passed for their instinct and were flying after the closest potential meals.

And with Malygos and Neltharion carrying a heavy burden between them, the two males looked like very easy meals.

“Neltharion—is—strong!” Malygos roared, a desperate addition to the plan hatching. “Neltharion could carry this stone by himself!”

The charcoal-gray proto-dragon’s eyes narrowed. “Neltharion is strong. So—is Malygos—and smarter than Neltharion.”

Neltharion opened one paw. The rock shifted. Without thinking, Malygos tightened his own grip. He knew what Neltharion intended—it was what he himself had been about to do—but it was already too late to stop the other proto-dragon.

Neltharion released his remaining hold. Malygos grunted from effort as he fought to keep the rock from slipping free. Kalec knew that Malygos had intended to ask Neltharion to carry the rock while the icy-blue male went back to face the undead. It was not that Malygos thought fighting Galakrond’s puppets was easier; in some ways, it merely offered a more immediate and just as grisly death.

But Neltharion knew what Kalec also knew about Malygos. For the plan against Galakrond to succeed, Malygos had to coordinate it. Neltharion was a fearsome fighter, the strongest of the five, but he was not the planner Malygos was.

At least not yet, Kalec abruptly recalled. As Deathwing, Neltharion proved far too cunning. But that’s in the future . . . I think.

As Kalec battled with himself over whether or not there was a future, Malygos took one last glance at Neltharion, who at that moment barreled into three of the encroaching undead. Then, steeling himself, Malygos faced Galakrond. Inhaling deeply, Kalec’s host pushed harder. He could not prevent Neltharion’s likely death, but he could help make that sacrifice count . . . even if he and the others also had to sacrifice themselves to do that.

And as Malygos closed on the deformed leviathan, he felt very certain that they would have to.

Galakrond chose that moment to twist to the side. He snapped at Ysera, the huge fangs coming within a few feet of her. She backed up as quickly as she could, but Galakrond continued to pursue her, his jaws again opening.

Fire scorched near his eye. Alexstrasza exhaled twice, attempting to draw his attention to her. However, Galakrond ignored the minor pain she caused.

To Malygos’s shock and probably that of everyone else, including Galakrond, Ysera reversed direction. She flew into the opening maw, then immediately rose, her hind paws pulled forward and her own jaws open.

Her mad actions served to make Alexstrasza continue to exhale, even though she fought for breath each time. The flames rained over the entire side of Galakrond’s scaled countenance. Extraneous limbs twisted, sizzled, and withered under the onslaught, so much so that it did cause Galakrond to roar in pain.

As his mouth then widened, Ysera scraped her claws across the blackened flesh inside the top. Blood and pus poured forth from the sorely wounded area. Ignoring the fluids spilling over her, the yellowish female took a savage bite from the same flesh before turning away.

Galakrond’s roar trebled. He snapped shut his jaws, but by then, the impetuous Ysera had just made her escape.

Seeing Galakrond clamp his jaws, Malygos feared for his own plan, but then his gargantuan foe opened his mouth wide once more. Galakrond hacked and coughed—and for a moment looked slightly smaller.

He is weakened, Malygos thought. Not for long, but he is weakened.

Kalec knew most of Malygos’s plan by this time, but that knowledge did not encourage him. Nor did it encourage him to have his host flying as fast as he could with such a tremendous burden into the very maw from which Ysera had just barely escaped.

Galakrond sniffed the air. He turned toward Malygos.

Nozdormu blasted the nearer eye with sand.

Neither Malygos nor the monster had seen Nozdormu closing, the brown proto-dragon timing his attacks perfectly, as usual. Galakrond tilted his head away from the irritating sand, which gave Malygos the opening he needed.

The icy-blue male flew under the upper fangs and into a place that stank not only from the ravaged flesh but also from the breath of the ultimate carnivore to stride across the young world. Both Malygos and Kalec tried not to think of just how many proto-dragons had gone down that much-too-close gullet.

Malygos’s grip slipped. His exertions had finally taken their toll. He felt the rock almost fall free. Struggling to keep what grasp he had, Malygos pushed on toward the frightening gap. All Galakrond had to do was shut his mouth and swallow, and that would be the end of the tinier proto-dragon.

Now! Kalec silently shouted at his host. Now!

But Malygos kept on a second longer. He sought just the right angle.

Darkness enveloped Kalec, but this time, it was the darkness of Galakrond’s jaws closing.

Releasing his hold, Malygos banked.

Neither could see the rock’s descent, but they knew the results of it in the next breath. Galakrond’s jaws shot open yet again, and new hacking almost deafened Kalec and his host.

Taking the chance that he might be bitten in two just like Talonixa, Malygos darted out the side. However, it appeared that he need not have feared being bitten, for Galakrond continued to cough, this time for another reason. As Malygos had planned and hoped, the rock he had chosen, a large, pointed projectile, had slid down deep into the behemoth’s throat. There it lodged, cutting off most of Galakrond’s breathing.

The enormous proto-dragon thrashed in the sky. His tail shattered part of a mountainside. One hind paw kicked tons of stone from another.

Still unable to dislodge the rock, Galakrond collided with a mountain. Rather than flying into the air again, he swiftly crawled over it. His claws and tail left devastation in their wake.

Leaning over a valley, Galakrond lowered his head. He shook it back and forth hard.

He will free himself! Malygos had hoped that the rock would remain lodged enough at least to make their adversary collapse, preferably die. Now he worried that Galakrond still had a very good chance of freeing his air passage. If that happened, Malygos doubted he would get the opportunity to try a second time.

Malygos sought out Nozdormu and the sisters, roaring for their attention. With his head, he indicated Galakrond. As weary as they all were, they had to move in close yet again and do what they could to keep the rock lodged.

Despite the urgency, Malygos looked back for Neltharion. There was no sign of either the charcoal-gray proto-dragon or his horrific opponents. Malygos hissed, imagining the undead feeding on Neltharion’s torn body with such vividness that Kalec could also see it.

The hiss grew more angry, more determined. Taking in Galakrond, Malygos thought of not only Neltharion’s death but also those of the monster’s previous victims. He dived.

The grotesque leviathan’s sides heaved rapidly. It seemed impossible to Kalec’s host that Galakrond could breathe at all, but some air had to be writhing its way down the throat. Not enough to satisfy Galakrond’s needs but enough to keep him a viable threat.

The four of them swarmed the head, each coming in from a different direction. Galakrond kept his head down. His body quivered.

Malygos heard a change in the breathing. It was not quite so rapid. If the stone was still stuck, it had at least shifted, giving Galakrond more air.

Too late, Kalec’s host realized that their monstrous foe had to be more aware of what was happening around him than he was before.

As if hearing that thought, Galakrond gazed skyward. He took in the four tiny figures.

“Lit—little morsels!” Galakrond somehow managed. “I will—will eat you when I can!” He coughed violently, but at the same time, his wings flapped wildly—not to fly but to purposely keep his enemies away.

The wings did that to Ysera and Alexstrasza but not to Malygos and Nozdormu. Nozdormu seized hold of one webbed wing and, perhaps too out of breath to exhale at the head, ran his claws over the wing’s membrane. The claws cut deep, proving that there were some parts of Galakrond’s skin that were not impervious.

Galakrond’s coughing ceased. He angrily snapped at Nozdormu, giving Malygos the opening he desired. The only hope remaining was keeping Galakrond’s airway from clearing. Malygos knew he could have ensured that earlier. Instead, he had let his natural survival instincts take over. He had fled the behemoth’s jaws rather than doing what must be done. The rock could never be dislodged if another large object kept it wedged in tighter.

Malygos intended to be that wedge, although doing so might well promise his destruction along with that of Galakrond, considering the great height from which they would plummet.

Kalec, too, understood the need for the sacrifice and welcomed it. He still had slight memories—or imaginings—of some life beyond that as an unnoticed portion of Malygos, but those only pained him, for they hinted at someone lost to the blue dragon, someone fading farther away.

Let us die saving this world, he told Malygos, even though his words continued to be unheeded. Let us die. . . .

Rising on his hind legs, Galakrond set one smaller forepaw against the nearest peak. Even the forepaw had the strength to crush rock and packed dirt as if they were loose sand. The wings continued to flap, yet not only did Nozdormu cut deeper ribbons in the one, but Alexstrasza and Ysera also attempted to do the same with the other. The attacks by the three probably would have been insignificant if Galakrond had been able to breathe properly, but as it was, they further disoriented the half-suffocating beast.

But then an unsettling gurgling noise escaped Galakrond. It was followed by a raspy breath that extended several seconds too long for Malygos’s comfort.

That Galakrond could breathe so well could only mean that he had the rock nearly dislodged. More than ever, Malygos saw the need for his choice. The others were doing as originally planned, keeping their gigantic foe distracted for the critical blow. They just did not realize exactly how their chosen leader had decided to make that final assault.

The jaws were open just wide enough. Malygos took a fleeting measure of the gap and thought that Galakrond appeared to have slightly shrunken again. The behemoth’s growth and transformation had become more chaotic, likely because of the diet that had perverted his shape in the first place.

Malygos tightened his approach. Pushing his momentum as hard as he could, he folded his wings against his body and darted inside. Galakrond’s fetid breath enveloped him, and hints of the foul mist threatened to dull Malygos’s mind before he could commit himself.

He saw the rock, now halfway out and leaning to one side. Galakrond tried to shift it with the back of his tongue, creating more complications for the much smaller proto-dragon.

The icy-blue male collided with the stone, shoving it deeper. That, though, caused an instantaneous reaction from Galakrond, who shook his head with greater violence and tried to exhale. Undeterred, Malygos dug into the back of the behemoth’s tongue and shoved against the stone, sending it as far in as he could.

A sudden tremor shook Malygos, but it was nothing that Galakrond had done. Something had struck Galakrond hard in the skull, with such force that the head still reverberated. Malygos saw that working to his advantage. With his monstrous opponent so otherwise occupied, Kalec’s host exhaled at the area around the stone.

The harsh frost sealed the stone in place, at least for the moment. Both Malygos and Kalec knew that the heat generated by Galakrond would quickly overwhelm the frost. Malygos had merely wanted to give himself time to adjust his position.

Seeking air yet again, Galakrond opened his mouth wider. Malygos eyed the opening, the temptation to fly out of the beast a very reasonable one. Still, he knew that he had to stay.

A whirling form barreled into Galakrond’s mouth.

It quickly proved to be not one thing but, rather, two. One of those things was a battered and ravaged undead, which at first made Kalec and his host fear that Galakrond had come up with the startling plan of sending his puppets in to do what he himself could not. Yet while the potential for that only now occurred to them, it was not the case, for the second object was clearly very much alive.

Battered and bruised, scratched but not showing any signs of having been bitten, Neltharion bared his teeth in a grin at the sight of Malygos.

“Fly! Fly away!” the charcoal-gray male insisted.

Malygos peered at his own handiwork. The frost was already melting. A sudden dip nearly sent them tumbling into the jagged teeth and also showed much jostling by the rock.

“Must stay!” he shouted back. “You go!”

“All fight together! One family!” Neltharion glared at the rock as he swatted the still-struggling corpse. “I will keep it in! You go!”

But Malygos instead leapt at Neltharion—or, rather, the ripped and torn undead. He seized the flailing body by the throat, twisting the neck so that the claws and the teeth could not threaten him.

Galakrond shook back and forth. Malygos and Neltharion had just enough room to flutter up into the air, keeping them from being affected very much. Malygos launched himself toward the rock again, carrying the animated corpse with him.

The rock began to slide. The upper part of the mouth suddenly loomed in Malygos’s path as Galakrond dipped his head down to aid his breathing. Kalec’s host corrected.

The undead struggled to free itself. Malygos shook his foul catch hard, then sent it tumbling forward.

The ghoulish creature collided with the rock, shoving it slightly deeper. But that was not Malygos’s full intention. He bent his hind legs forward, ready to push as hard as he could.

“Move!”

Malygos veered off just in time. Neltharion, hind paws bent forward in the same manner as his friend, crashed against both the undead and the stone.

With a force that Malygos could not have possibly mustered, Neltharion jammed the bony figure and the rock deep into Galakrond’s gullet.

Teeth slammed against Malygos as Galakrond reacted. A muffled roar still almost deafened him. Neltharion, seeking to avoid the rippling tongue, collided with Kalec’s host. Malygos hurtled out the side of the mouth.

Neltharion! He’s still inside! It was impossible to say whether the thought first originated from Malygos or Kalec, but the blue dragon found himself astounded that he, who could yet recall some bits of his supposed future, would want to rescue a creature who would, in turn, threaten Azeroth. Yet when Malygos immediately arced back, Kalec cheered him on.

Neltharion lay sprawled on his back, trying to right himself despite the mad swinging of Galakrond’s head and the writhing tongue. If not for the fact that the passage was blocked, Neltharion would have been swallowed twice.

Galakrond’s jaws snapped shut. Malygos feared for his companion, but the mouth opened again. Neltharion had managed to turn onto his stomach, but he had still not regained his balance.

Dodging teeth larger than him, Malygos soared back inside. Hind paws ready, he seized Neltharion by the shoulders and pushed on without hesitation. Neltharion went limp in his grip, but only to keep from distracting Malygos.

The jaws started to close again. With another beat of his wings, Malygos pulled himself tightly together.

The two proto-dragons returned to the outside just as the jaws shut. Neltharion stirred to life, and Malygos, barely able to hold on, let him go.

The two exhausted males did not go far, instead banking together and returning to the aid of their comrades.

But both pulled up short at the sight before them. Alexstrasza, Ysera, and Nozdormu no longer sought to keep Galakrond occupied. It did not just have to do with the fact that Malygos and Neltharion were no longer in danger; simply staying near Galakrond was to invite doom.

The gargantuan proto-dragon thrashed wildly, ravaging the nearby mountains and sending one avalanche after another down on the areas below. His tail and wings flailed through the air, striking other mountainsides and creating a wind that buffeted the smaller proto-dragons even as far away as where they were.

Galakrond’s hacking and choking reached epic proportions. To the shock of Kalec and his host, Galakrond struck his head against one peak in what was evidently a more desperate attempt to dislodge the rock. Malygos feared that he would succeed, but all that happened was that Galakrond shook his head again as if to clear it.

As he did that, his furious gaze fell upon Malygos.

Galakrond rose into the air, the icy-blue male his target. Malygos had no choice but to turn and flee. And hope.

Yet barely had he done so when a tremendous thud made him look back. Rather than pursuing Malygos, Galakrond had abruptly banked to the south. He crashed into the top of a mountain and tumbled over it.

Malygos considered continuing his flight, but Galakrond’s next action put an end to such thoughts. Galakrond managed to rise into the air, but his path turned more erratic. Twice he dropped on top of peaks, destroying their crowns, before he succeeded in staying aloft. Yet it seemed as if Galakrond no longer even noticed Malygos and the others. He moved on to the south, past the mountains to the bleak stretches beyond, as if some key to his struggle for breath could be found there.

Fearful that such might be the case, Malygos finally dared to pursue the behemoth. Neltharion and the rest joined him. They all knew that if Galakrond was free to breathe, their own deaths would very likely soon follow.

Galakrond fluttered over the wasteland, his path meandering. His body was aglow again, but now as if aflame. Several of the extraneous appendages shriveled. From a distance, Galakrond almost looked like a true proto-dragon once more, albeit a huge one.

And then he simply dropped.

The land below shook with his collision, the shock wave expanding for miles. Crevasses spread all around where Galakrond hit, cracks that looked like lightning bolts coursing along the ground.

No sooner had he hit than Galakrond shoved skyward once more. He managed to rise as high as one of the lower mountains in the distance, then fell again. While his crash did not reverberate as much as the last one had, it was no less dramatic, for it was quickly followed by the leviathan’s manic flailing on the ground.

All the while, Galakrond coughed and hacked. His eyes stared but no longer appeared to see. He pushed himself up, beating his wings harder. Somehow Galakrond managed to keep going until, at last, he hovered higher than ever—

His wings ceased flapping. The coughing also stopped, but only because Galakrond was no longer trying to breathe.

To Kalec and his host, it appeared that Galakrond remained frozen in the air. The gigantic proto-dragon hung before them, wings spread to their full length.

The illusion faded as Galakrond dropped like a stone, his massive body spiraling tail-first.

When he struck this time, the force threw up a cloud of snow and dust that briefly obscured everything. Malygos managed to make out the silhouette as Galakrond’s head swung down after the rest of his body had hit. The great head smashed into the empty landscape so forcefully that the neck snapped and the skull tilted at an odd angle, at which point the lower jawbone also broke off.

And only then, only as the dust cleared enough for the five to see and when it no longer mattered for Galakrond, the rock and the grisly remains tumbled free through the ruined jaws. They came to rest several yards away, insignificant in size compared with the creature they had helped bring down.

Galakrond was dead.

FIVE

PAST, PRESENT, FUTURE

Jaina understood. She knew why the artifact had been created, and she knew why it was acting as it was.

She also knew that it threatened to take Kalec from her. However, now the archmage had the key to reaching him.

Jaina only prayed she still had time.

•   •   •

They hovered there at first, unable to believe what they saw. It was Neltharion who finally did the unthinkable, testing whether Galakrond was dead by landing right on top of the heavy torso. Neltharion hit hard enough that the body trembled . . . but Galakrond did not stir.

Malygos landed before the huge head, marveling at what they had wrought. In retrospect, he knew that he had not expected that they would live, much less triumph. The immensity of their victory only now registered with him, and the proto-dragon shook.

Alexstrasza and her sister joined him. Nozdormu circled the great corpse once, then descended. Neltharion abandoned his perch atop the torso to fly next to the brown proto-dragon as they headed toward the other three.

Neltharion dropped next to Malygos. “We have won! We are powerful!”

“We are lucky,” Malygos murmured in turn.

The charcoal-gray male cocked his head, then nodded. “Lucky, too . . . yes.”

But this was more than luck, just as Neltharion indicated, an increasingly disjointed Kalec decided. We won because we fought as one.

He no longer thought of himself as ever having been a separate entity born in a time long after this. Kalec knew that he had always been a hidden part of Malygos. He assumed the other proto-dragons had similar secondary personalities, but that point was not very important to him. What mattered was that he and Malygos—along with the others—had managed to bring down Galakrond. The world was safe.

“He was right. . . . He insisted he was right,” a feminine voice declared from behind them.

“We should’ve listened better,” agreed a masculine one that sounded to Malygos and Kalec like none other than Tyr.

As one, the proto-dragons whirled around. Teeth and claws readied for the possibility of attack.

But instead, they confronted two cloaked and hooded forms with shadowed faces. One stood as tall and as broad as Tyr had when he and Kalec’s host had first met; the other was slightly shorter and slimmer. Malygos judged the smaller to be the female and was proved correct when the figure spoke again.

“Hail to you, victors. We and this world owe you a debt.”

“Where is Tyr?” Malygos asked impatiently. “You took him?”

“We did take him,” the male responded. “His injury would have proved fatal otherwise. He’s well but not recovered.”

The more the male talked, the more Malygos noted something familiar. “Heard you in my head! You told us the way through mountains!”

“There were things you needed to know, such as Galakrond devouring both the undead and the living. We also sought to give you a few moments’ necessary respite.”

But Malygos was still not satisfied. Aware now that Tyr’s kind had been observing and acting surreptitiously, he needed to know one other thing. “Tyr fought! Tyr fought and almost died! You could have fought! You could have won!”

“Power does not mean victory,” the female answered solemnly. “We might have won, or, more likely, we would have made things worse. Tyr had a point there, too, when last he tried to urge us to a course of action. We were beyond caring, though, indifferent to everything once our suggestions to him were found to be without merit.”

“We let our duty in this world slip away,” her companion continued bluntly. “We were unfit to protect it . . . unlike you.” For the first time, he moved, raising a hand identical to Tyr’s toward Malygos and the other four. “Tyr was correct in many things but most of all in this. He was right in what he found in the five of you. He asked of us—no, properly demanded of us—to set matters right so that no Galakrond, no other threat, may ever bring Azeroth to extinction.”

The five proto-dragons glanced at one another, not understanding at all what the two-legged creatures meant. Kalec had some glimmer of the truth, but the haze that had gradually been enveloping him made those thoughts fade again.

“Guardians are needed, guardians representing the five essential Aspects that have helped mold this world and will continue to,” the female started. Now she, too, raised a hand toward Malygos and the rest. “You will literally be those Aspects, using them in whatever manner necessary.”

“Stronger.” Malygos finally comprehended. “You want to make us stronger.”

“More than just that. You will be something different, something grander.” For the first time, the female hesitated. “But only if you choose to take on the roles of protectors. Tyr was also adamant about that. You chose to fight for your world once; will you now make it the purpose of your existence?”

The words were big ones, but Malygos found he understood better than he would have expected. There was much he grasped that even a season ago he would have believed impossible to decipher.

And in understanding that, his decision was easy.

“I will do this.” He looked to his companions. Alexstrasza was already nodding her agreement. Ysera was not far behind. Nozdormu appeared to mull over the offer for a moment and then, with a hiss, added his nod.

Only Neltharion had not answered yet. Indeed, Malygos found his friend staring off toward the mountains, as if he were listening to something.

Malygos let out a low, short hiss that brought Neltharion’s attention back to the gathering. With what seemed almost impatience, the charcoal-gray proto-dragon blurted, “Yes . . . yesss.”

“Then we shall begin now,” the male announced to the proto-dragons and to the air itself.

And all at once, Kalec stirred from his fog. He realized what was about to take place. The female figure—who, like her partner and Tyr, radiated a presence much more astounding than what could at the moment be visibly seen—had even used the keyword. “Aspects,” she said, Kalec recalled. This is how Malygos and the others became the Aspects!

The actual event had been enshrouded in mystery even for the other dragons. Kalec suddenly remembered that, when he was much younger, he had sometimes wondered how the five had come to be the world’s defenders.

And with those memories returned others, so many others. Kalec knew again who he had been and what had happened that had drawn him into these visions—

“Kalec.”

He jolted. No . . . Malygos jolted. Kalec shook his head, Malygos’s head. For the first time, Kalec had control.

“Kalec, look at me.”

“Jaina?” He gasped, turning. “Jaina—”

But it was not Jaina he faced. Rather, Alexstrasza looked intently at him.

“Kalec,” the fire-orange proto-dragon murmured. “Look at me.”

Near them, two more hooded figures materialized. Kalec found himself caught between wanting to see what was happening and wanting to finally escape to his own existence. He wanted his life more than he had in many months, whether or not he was no longer an Aspect.

“Concentrate, Kalec. The artifact is trying to do what Tyr tasked it with, but the foulness that was Galakrond tainted it over the millennia, distorting its function even as it still sought to serve Tyr and the Aspects.”

Kalec tried to seize on her words, but at the same time, the newcomers raised their hands. He also suddenly sensed that there was another, greater presence acting through the keepers, that presence being the true force bringing about the proto-dragons’ coming transformations.

The titans.

It is happening! the blue dragon thought. The titans are the ones overseeing the transformation, the creation of the Aspects!

As they raised their hands, the figures also changed. They began to grow. Their hoods and cloaks fell away, revealing four giants akin in appearance to Tyr when he had fought Galakrond. The keepers continued to swell in size, and their bodies glowed with tremendous power.

“Kalec!” Alexstrasza called more sharply. “Look at me!”

Only she could have drawn him from this moment. Kalec at last concentrated fully on Alexstrasza, seeing in those reptilian eyes human ones.

The world began to turn on its head. Everything except the eyes into which Kalec stared now appeared as if he were looking through water.

Kalec felt his bond with Malygos fade and, with it, the grip the visions had on him.

Darkness enveloped the blue dragon. Only the eyes, Jaina’s eyes, brought any illumination. Kalec held her gaze because he understood that to lose that hold would mean his doom—and also because those eyes were hers.

With a gasp, Kalec at last truly woke up.

He felt the floor beneath him. He detected the scents of the Nexus—the traces of generations of blue dragons and the inherent smells that he associated with so much magic.

But most important, he saw not only the eyes of Jaina Proudmoore but also her face. Her human scent, so unique among her own kind and so enticing to him, lingered in his nostrils.

Kalec tried to speak, to say her name, but it came out as a croak.

“Hush,” Jaina murmured, her hand gently touching his cheek. “Hush . . . give it a second.”

He was too impatient, though. “J-Jaina . . . you brought . . . you brought me back.”

“Nothing will take you away from me. Ever.”

Her tone was blunt. He knew she meant what she said, and he felt the same. Reaching up a hand—a hand without scales or claws—Kalec touched her cheek in turn.

Then he recalled the bane of his existence. He looked to the side and saw that despite what he would have assumed, Jaina had not destroyed the artifact. It sat nearby, its glow very slight but still there.

With an angry hiss, Kalec started a spell—

“No, Kalec.” Using both hands, the archmage brought his eyes back to her own. “The artifact means no harm. Remember what I said to you in the vision?”

“You said . . .” He did not go on, instead asking, “How do you know?”

“I was given the key, I think by a keeper. Or maybe a part of the relic with its own purpose. I’m not certain. I only know that she wasn’t a taunka.”

“Buniq?” Neither possibility concerning the taunka surprised him.

She summoned a flagon of wine from the air, then gently set the edge to his lips. While he sipped, Jaina explained further. “Tyr—the artifact made all this clear—always planned ahead. His only mistake was not foreseeing what Galakrond would become, as if anyone could have! He tried to make up for it by finding those champions who not only could defeat Galakrond but would also be willing to sacrifice themselves and their lives forever for the sake of Azeroth.”

“He found them. He found the five,” Kalec whispered. “Malygos. Alexstrasza. Ysera. Nozdormu. Nelth-Neltharion. They were heroes even before they were the Aspects. Azeroth wouldn’t have reached the time of the dragons without their willingness to do what they had to do.”

“They saved the world without all the powers they gained as the Aspects.” She paused, her eyes widening. “Kalec! Did you see it?”

“No . . . and I don’t think I would have. I think the vision was almost finished. I think I might have returned to the beginning, living it over and over and over.” Kalec imagined the last few moments. “The artifact. Tyr tied it to the five. That’s what he was doing when he pointed it at us—them. Imprinting the five on it. I think it drew from each but especially from Malygos, the first. Tyr didn’t know that it would end up inside Galakrond.”

“The key enabled me to delve into its core,” the archmage said. “I saw some of what he intended it to tell you about its function. Tyr suspected—or knew—that someday there would come a time when the five would have great doubts about themselves, when they might believe they were no longer worthy of their roles as protectors.”

This was sounding all too familiar to Kalec. “At Wyrmrest, it came to a head. That’s when they decided just that, because they no longer had the powers of the Aspects. They’d grown too accustomed to depending on those.” He frowned. “And that’s when the artifact awoke. It sensed that what Tyr feared had happened, if not quite as he calculated, and tried to act as he wanted. The only problems were the great amount of time and Galakrond’s taint infiltrating its magical matrix.”

Kalec tried to stand. With Jaina’s arm around him, he finally managed. On somewhat unsteady legs, he walked to the relic. It no longer disturbed him, now that he knew what it had been meant for.

Tyr wanted them to be reminded of what they once were and how much they had accomplished even then.

To Jaina’s shock, Kalec picked up the artifact.

“What are you planning to do with that?”

He thought of all he had lived through in the visions and what he had seen of young Malygos and the other four. There was only one course he could take after that.

“I’m going to call a convocation.”

•   •   •

He waited quietly in the chamber, hoping that he was not waiting in vain. He had arrived at Wyrmrest more than four hours earlier, wanting to reach it before the others.

Kalec still sensed nothing beyond the temple’s walls. The others should have been there by now. It was already well past the hour on which they had all agreed.

With a grimace, Kalec recalled how, in truth, the three had only said that they would fly to Wyrmrest after he had pestered them over and over. It would not surprise him if they had changed their minds.

For the moment, he remained in his humanoid form, preferring it now for a variety of reasons. One was that he could better handle the artifact as he desired.

The relic currently sat in the very center of the chamber, a few feet ahead of Kalec on the platform. It pulsated quietly, its functioning having been corrected by Kalec and Jaina. Galakrond’s taint had also been expunged, at least as far as either could tell.

If they do not come, I will have to bring it to each of them. Even that might not solve the situation; the other three could very well refuse to see him.

“Well, Kalec. Can you tell us now for what reason you insisted we return here?”

He could not help jumping. Alexstrasza—her form humanoid—strode into the chamber, looking every bit as radiant as when he had seen her in the forest. There was no sign of Ysera or Nozdormu, but Kalec suddenly sensed their nearby presence.

“You’ve been here for a while,” he muttered.

“We needed to . . . discuss some things first. Now we are ready to hear you, if you still wish to call this gathering.”

In response, Kalec took a few steps back from his position and transformed into his draconic form. He peered down at Alexstrasza. “I do.”

“Very well.” She started toward her usual place, changing as she moved. By the time Alexstrasza halted, she, too, was no longer humanoid in appearance.

Barely had she finished changing when Nozdormu and Ysera also entered. Unlike Alexstrasza, they did so in their draconic shapes and not in humanoid ones. They said nothing as they positioned themselves.

“Thank you for doing this,” the blue dragon quietly said.

“Just what are we doing?” Ysera interrupted. “Best tell us quickly. You said it had to do with that thing, which I know I have seen somewhere before—”

Kalec immediately concentrated on the relic.

Nozdormu hissed. “Jussst what are you—”

Tyr’s creation glowed brightly.

The three other dragons’ gazes became locked on the relic. Kalec let out a deep breath. As it had done with him, so the artifact now did with the others, only in not so haphazard a way. All relived their past, from their first meeting with one another to the epic struggle.

But whereas Kalec had been caught up in the vision for days, the three others were only entranced for a minute, maybe two. In that short time, though, their reptilian countenances displayed a series of emotions, none of which, unfortunately, told Kalec how they were taking this sudden journey.

The artifact’s glow all but faded. As Kalec expected, Alexstrasza and the others stirred.

“I was . . .” Ysera hesitated.

Nozdormu stared at the relic. “That thing . . .”

Alexstrasza looked put out. “Kalecgos, you should not have done this without our permission!”

“Would you have given it?”

“Of course not!” Ysera snapped. Then, sounding surprisingly softer, Alexstrasza’s sister added, “But we would have been wrong.”

Nozdormu turned his baleful gaze from Tyr’s creation to Kalec. “Explain thisss . . . and yourself.”

Kalec did, telling them what he had gone through and the things he had experienced in the vision. He told them everything except Jaina’s part in it, as she had requested.

And when he was done, even Nozdormu looked astounded.

“I wondered for some time after why he had brought forth that thing,” the former Aspect of Time muttered. “What a foolish notion to think that he could change what has happened by reminding us of this incident.”

“It was hardly just an incident, though,” the red dragon pointed out to him. “And your own tone betrays you, Nozdormu. You lived it again, just as my sister and I did. You remember how you felt then. How we all felt.”

“What does that matter?” Ysera blurted.

Kalec seized control again. “What matters is what Tyr wanted you to see. What you have to see. When we gave up our powers to save Azeroth, you three, who’d wielded them for so long, willingly did a great and noble thing. Throughout the millennia, as Aspects, you more than once proved yourselves willing to sacrifice your lives.” He looked at each of them, daring someone to deny what he said. “But Tyr knew—and I understand—that you were granted such fantastic powers in the first place not just because you were there but because you had already proved yourselves worthy several times over. Proved yourselves worthy as proto-dragons, nothing more.”

Nozdormu grunted. “We nearly died several times over.”

“But you did not.”

“No . . . we did.” Alexstrasza exhaled. “Not literally, but we did die. We forgot what we once were. How we originally were. We did exist before we became Aspects.” She set herself before Ysera and Nozdormu. “We existed, and we fought thinking not of ourselves but of everything!”

Kalec pulled back again. Alexstrasza understood, but did the others?

“You fought very well for a runt,” Nozdormu remarked to Ysera. “I thought you mad at timesss . . . but admirable.”

“I had her to keep up with,” Alexstrasza’s sibling replied with a nod toward the crimson dragon. “And you were always there to lend your strength at the right moment, Nozdormu. You know that.”

“We all fought very well that day,” Alexstrasza agreed. “Even . . . even Malygos and Neltharion.”

The three were silent for several seconds; then, as one, they turned to face the youngest of their party. Kalec remained perfectly still, aware that anything could alter the moment.

Alexstrasza shook her head. “You should never have done this, Kalec.”

“It was ill-advised,” Nozdormu added.

“Risky,” Ysera concluded.

“But it has reminded us of much,” her sister went on. “Reminded us most of all of who we were and still are.” Alexstrasza again glanced at the other two. “We have far more to think about. Would you not agree?”

“Much,” the bronze dragon answered.

Ysera nodded.

Something that had been bothering Kalec finally demanded attention. “I have to ask one thing. We all know Galakrond as Father of Dragons, but . . .”

“It did not begin that way,” Alexstrasza murmured. “The first dragons to come after us knew only of the great skeleton already long lying in the Dragonblight. We made certain that the truth about Galakrond would remain secret, for fear that some other might decide to follow his insidious path. Because of his immense size, many could not fathom him as anything else but a true dragon.”

“We chose to encourage the misunderstanding,” Nozdormu interjected. “And in his perverse way, Galakrond did cause the rise of dragonsss. A ‘father’ in some sense, if not exactly as we led all othersss to believe.”

“And we shall continue to leave it that way,” the red dragon quietly declared. Then, before a startled Kalec could react, Alexstrasza turned and scooped up the artifact. “I will tend to this. Its work—Tyr’s work—is done. We may not be Aspects anymore, but we are still ourselves. I, for one, think that perhaps there is some more I can offer the world after all. We can only wait and see.”

“I understand,” Kalec finally dared reply.

“The next convocation had better be for more urgent mattersss,” Nozdormu commented as he spread his wings and started from the platform. “Promise that.”

“I—promise.”

“You’re a stubborn one,” Ysera murmured as she followed Nozdormu. “I can appreciate that.”

Kalec was left with Alexstrasza. She tightened her grip on the relic. “Should I ever find that Tyr lives, I will thank him for reminding us. As I do not know if I will have that chance, I thank you in his place, Kalec.”

“There’s no need—”

“Yes, there is. You still remembered life before assuming the mantle. You remembered enough to make certain that Tyr’s hopes rekindled our own drive. So I thank you for that and much else.” She left the dais but, before reaching the exit, briefly turned back. “Oh . . . and thank her for us also.”

Alexstrasza departed before Kalec could regain his composure. He immediately whirled toward a distant column half in the shadows. “You heard her?”

A part of the column separated from the bulk. As it did, it became Jaina Proudmoore. “I shouldn’t have come with you! I’m sorry! What will she do?”

He shrugged. “Nothing. Maybe find a way to thank you again. I should have known that she, of all three, might sense you.”

He shrank down into his humanoid form. Unperturbed by what she had just witnessed, Jaina gladly fell into his arms. For several seconds, they did not speak.

Then Jaina said, “Did it work, Kalec? Will they rejoin the world? Azeroth needs them!”

Azeroth needs them. Three simple words, but Kalec thought about how much those words covered. The three elder dragons carried among them such knowledge, such experience, courage, and wisdom alone, that to lose even those things would leave the world sorely lacking. That, Kalec knew, could not be allowed to happen.

“I think they will,” he finally answered. “They’ve always been true to themselves. They’ll see the truth more than ever now. They just . . . forgot for a while.”

Without warning, she kissed him. He replied in kind.

When they separated, Jaina whispered, “I’m so very proud of you, Kalec.”

“I don’t know why—”

“There are many reasons. Most of all, for not forgetting yourself, either. You still have a role in this world, too. Several, in fact, I’d say.”

They had discussed some of this while he had been preparing for the convocation. After living through the visions, Kalec was now reconsidering his decision to let the other blue dragons choose their individual paths. He still had much to mull over and might yet decide to keep matters as they were, but there were factors favoring restoring the blue dragonflight. Not only for the sake of Azeroth but for the sake of his own kind. He had shirked his duties just as the others had done, but he would make up for that now.

And there were other roles. Roles that he had yet to completely figure out except that Jaina insisted she would be there to assist him. Their powers combined would be potent enough, but both believed that their hearts combined might in some ways help guide Azeroth yet more for the better.

Kalec thought it would be interesting to find out.

“We should leave,” he told Jaina.

She nodded, then stepped back. As she did, Kalec transformed again. He lowered one wing so that she could climb up.

“Are you ready?” Kalec asked.

“Yes.”

The blue dragon wended his way out of the temple. Night was just beginning to fall, allowing some details in the distance still to be noticed in the gloom.

Kalec spread his wings and leapt into the air. He looked back to make certain that Jaina was safe, then ascended higher.

On a whim, Kalec circled Wyrmrest once. As he did, out of the corner of his eye, the blue dragon beheld the bones of Galakrond.

A brief glint made him look closer.

“What is it?” Jaina called.

“Nothing . . . nothing.”

Kalec banked, for Jaina’s sake heading toward Dalaran before he returned to the Nexus to ascertain whether there were any lingering aftereffects from the artifact’s presence. There was no reason he could not have told Jaina what he thought he’d seen below except that it had probably been his imagination. She might have understood, but this was one secret he decided to keep from her.

In the growing shadows of the great ribs, Kalec thought he had seen a figure, a figure small and cloaked but at the same time seeming as tall and as powerful as a dragon.

And whether the image of Tyr had been real for that brief time or, most likely, conjured by his mind, Kalec silently thanked the keeper for Alexstrasza, Ysera, Nozdormu . . . and himself.

NOTES

The story you’ve just read is the final installment 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 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 World of Warcraft: 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 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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ISBN 978-1-4767-0864-5