CHAPTER 10
Wrapped in blankets within Unambi's hammock, Idira dreamed of Khadgar. He walked alone in a strange, sunken city, passing odd domed buildings constructed from massive ashlars of dark green stone. They crouched low along the city's circular walkways, as though bowing in worship to the vast, angular dome towering above them in the city's centre. From the apex of the central dome, a swirling pillar of white light rotated up into the night sky. Beams of light shot through it, flaring bright as they wove together, intricate.
His arms crossed over his chest, Khadgar scanned the skies, as though searching for something, his eyes moving over the constellations of stars and two moons looming large and heavy on the horizon. Idira stepped closer, expecting to see a younger version of the man from her childhood dream. He turned, his profile emerging from the shadows into the glare of the pillar's light. She stared at him, incredulous. He looked exactly the same as she remembered him from the balcony. Did he not age at all?
"Who are you, and why do you trouble my dreams so?" he asked, his voice resonant, deep and refined. A little thrill ran through Idira at the sound of his voice, it was better than she had imagined it would be. She circled him, drinking in the details of his blue cloth and leather tunic, collar and gloves. Across his back he wore a sturdy wooden staff, its crest carved into the shape of a raven, the gems of its eyes pulsed like a beating heart, slow, emanating power. Beneath the raven's talons, three blue amulets carved with magical symbols hung from leather straps, each of the amulets glowing within a halo of blue light. The raven's eyes flared. Khadgar turned, wary, and pulled his staff free. He held it up. The staff brightened, crackling with violet energy.
"Is it you?" he whispered. "Show yourself."
Idira stopped and looked behind her, suddenly self-conscious. He couldn't sense her, could he? No, impossible. He was on another planet and she was dreaming. She glanced up and met his eyes. She bit her lip. He was looking right at her, or rather through her. He looked older than VanCleef with his tousled silver hair and careworn expression, although he carried it well, his tired features offset by his strong jaw, straight nose, and steel-grey eyes. Several days worth of stubble covered his jaw. She backed up, feeling intimidated by his powerfully built, tall frame. From a safer distance, she eyed him. It was really him, in the flesh, the silver-haired hero of Azeroth, charismatic and handsome.
His staff flared bright. He stepped back, startled. Now he looked right at her, his jaw slack.
"The violet Light belongs to a child?" he whispered, astonished. "No, it cannot be."
"You can see me?" Idira asked, incredulous. He continued to look at her, examining her, moving his staff from side to side.
"Wait!" she spluttered, indignant, as the light from his staff passed over her once more. "I'm not a child! I'm almost twelve-and-a-half."
He didn't answer her, nor did he even seem to realise she was speaking, instead he carried on looking at her, assessing her. "It is the same Light as in my dreams," he murmured to himself. "So rare. But still, a child, how is it possible?"
He shook his head, resigned, and took a step back. He bowed and addressed her, formal. "I would know more of the dreams you have given to me about Azeroth's future, and the orc you call Gul'dan and what I must do to stop him." He stepped closer once more, his eyes narrowing. He let out a little exhalation of frustration. "It's so hard to see you, you shift and waver so."
Idira stared at him. How could her Light be in his dreams?
"Can you speak?" he asked, urgent.
"Yes. Can't you hear me?" Idira answered, impatient. Maybe she just needed to talk louder. "Who's Gul'dan?" she shouted.
"Wait!" His eyes widened, alarmed. He lunged after her, his gloved hand reaching out to grasp her shoulder. She felt a shock as his hand passed through her, warm and tingly. "Come back! I don't understand the dreams. Why do you show me such things, of an orc who is dead yet I must stop before he destroys Azeroth? Why do you come to me?" he asked, anguished. "I am not even in Azeroth anymore!" He faded away.
Idira opened her eyes, Khadgar's curse of frustration still ringing in her ears. From below, the low sound of VanCleef's grieving drifted up into the office, rising and falling, reminding Idira of the farm and the sigh of the ocean's waves washing up against the shore. She peered over the edge of the hammock. Unambi lay asleep on the floor of the cabin, between her and the closed door of the cabin, his daggers beside him.
She eased back into the hammock. Why tonight, of all nights would she have such a dream? Didn't she already have enough to come to terms with? She thought of Myra and Benny, only just gone to the Light, tears filling her eyes anew. They trickled down the side of her face as she stared at the roof of the cabin, her gaze following the seams of the wooden panels fitted together and sealed with tar, refusing to let herself think of how they died, and what would happen to her now, a prisoner to a madman. She shifted a little, making the hammock swing back and forth, the movement soothing her, calming her.
At least Unambi was still there, he would protect her. Maybe one day they would escape. But how? When? Another tear slipped down her cheek. She couldn't think about that now. She couldn't even think about her dream with Khadgar. Another day, another time, when she didn't feel like she was going to shatter into a thousand pieces. Exhausted, she closed her eyes and went back to sleep. This time she dreamed of nothing.
With Myra gone, VanCleef changed. He lost all interest in the ship, spending his time in the galley, gambling and drinking the hard liquor the pirates carried. At breakfast, as Idira prepared Vanessa's plate, he would sit at the table and stare at Myra's empty seat, his eyes sunken from lack of sleep. He would pull a silver flask from his jacket, his hands shaking and drink deep, then sit, half-turned, waiting for the alcohol to do its work, his legs splayed on his chair, his elbow leaning on the table and his head hanging. A few minutes later he would get up and leave without saying a word.
Sometimes Idira could hear him shouting strange things from the top deck, his words slurred and incoherent, daring someone to fight him, to come and taste his blades. There would be sounds of a scuffle followed by more shouts, and the clatter of swords falling to the deck. Soon Kip and one of the other men would bring an unconscious VanCleef down into his room and throw him onto his bed to sleep off the drink. They would walk out shaking their heads, glancing at her and Vanessa, pity in their eyes.
As the months dragged by and VanCleef's condition worsened, Kip took over the work of finishing the ship, becoming the new leader, though he still treated VanCleef with respect in front of the others. He carved a little set of animals for Vanessa and gave them to her one evening as VanCleef stormed across the top deck cursing and demanding the cannons be fired in honor of Myra.
Vanessa just looked at Kip's gift, laid out on the dining table, her eyes hollow and asked what was wrong with her daddy. Kip shook his head and backed away, Idira knew he didn't want any part of that conversation. He left to contain VanCleef, while Idira went to find a book to read to Vanessa, to try and distract her from the fistfight breaking out on the top deck.
Idira did her best to take care of Vanessa, relying on Unambi to give her the strength to go on, but she soon realised he was suffering too. The lack of fresh air and sunlight made him tired and listless. He spent most of his time in his hammock, sleeping. Idira could understand, she slept too whenever she could. Anything to make the time pass.
One evening, a week after her unremarked thirteenth birthday, she overheard Kip and Unambi talking as they drank in the office. Kip mentioned when he took in the last shipment of goods from the entrance of the mines, there were rumors that the bounty for VanCleef's head had been raised to one thousand gold pieces and champions were gathering to answer the call.
Unambi scoffed and asked why Kip didn't just deliver up VanCleef to Stormwind himself. Kip laughed, hollow, and admitted he was a wanted man, too, as was every other man and creature in the mines by now, including Unambi. He'd decided the attack against Stormwind would have to wait. In the meantime he had agreed with the ship's captain they would sail to Kalimdor, to a place called Ratchet, where they could wait in safety until VanCleef pulled himself together. Unambi had grunted, but said nothing more.
After that, the men worked harder, starting earlier in the morning and working well into the night. A sense of urgency swept over the ship. No one drank or gambled now, even VanCleef kept to himself, sitting alone in his room staring at the wall, whispering to himself about being a family again.
Although Idira spent more time than usual sleeping, she never dreamed of Khadgar again, nor did she have any visions, but that didn't stop her from thinking about him and the tantalising thought that they seemed to share a connection through her Light. Her thoughts of him, and how handsome he was, occupied the long, lonely hours spent waiting to turn her face once more to the warm rays of the sun. Secretly she was glad he hadn't been able to see her properly, she didn't want him to think of her as a child. She wouldn't be a child for much longer. One day she would be a woman full grown and she wanted him to see her like that. But she had to admit, the wait was excruciating now she had seen him up close.
One night, not long after she had learned of VanCleef's bounty, the worst of her fears came true when she experienced her first painful bleed, alone. She was glad she had kept her booklet about becoming a woman with the bank note from Nin still tucked safe within, otherwise she would have thought she was dying. She sent to the galley for linens, washing them out after, desperate to hide her shame from both VanCleef and Vanessa. She had already grown in height, but now her breasts and hips filled out, seemingly overnight. When the pirates began eyeing her as she sat in the office talking to Unambi, Kip told her she had to stay below. She sighed and accepted her imprisonment, but secretly she grieved the loss of her one last solace; Unambi's warm and reassuring presence.
She kept herself busy taking in Myra's two dresses so she could wear them. Her new body made her own dresses too tight, their bodices tearing at the seams and hems brushing against her shins, far above her ankles. She repaired her old dresses and packed them away, saving them for when Vanessa would need them. The first time VanCleef saw Idira wearing Myra's dress, he just stared at her, his eyes glistening with tears. He turned and went up the ladder, and didn't come back for two days.
A week later, Idira lay on the settee reading one of her favourite fairytales, though her thoughts kept drifting back to her dream of Khadgar. She wondered for the thousandth time what happened after her dream ended, had he continued to call for her? Had he cursed some more? Had he used his magic to try and find her? Over the past nine months, she had played out hundreds of scenarios in her mind. She settled back against the cushions, searching for a new and tantalising alternative with which to entertain herself, but lassitude filled her and she felt herself succumbing to the pull of sleep. Perhaps she would dream of Khadgar. She had just begun to drift off when running feet and shouts of alarm filled the air. She opened her eyes, uncertain whether it had been real or she had dreamed it. A explosion somewhere deep in the mines went off, a heartbeat later a dull boom reverberated through the cavern. She bolted up from the settee, her book falling to the floor with a heavy thump. Vanessa looked up at Idira from the floor where she had been playing with the toy animals Kip had made for her, her eyes huge in her thin, pale face.
"What's happening?" she asked, coming to her feet.
A shout rose up. The first gate of the mine had been breached. Idira bit her lip. There could only be one explanation. The champions from Stormwind had finally come to fight their way into the cavern from the mine's entrance far above. What else could it be? Above, men continued to shout, struggling to get the ship free of the scaffolding, preparing to cast off. VanCleef bolted out of his room, buckling the last straps of his armour, his eyes filled with fire, looking more like his old self than he had in months.
He clambered up the ladder, gripping his belt and scabbarded swords in one hand. His booted feet hurried across the office and out onto the deck.
"Come to me!" he bellowed, desperate, hungry to fight. "My swords long for your blood!"
Kip hollered out another command, and the sound Idira had spent every waking moment longing to hear burst into her senses: shouts of Heave! Ho! echoed through the cavern and the winch came to life, its spikes clanging against the water gate's massive chain. The rest of the men swarmed over the ship, working to free it from the ropes and beams, their feet running to and fro under Kip's frantic commands.
Idira crept up the ladder to the cabin, Vanessa following close behind, whimpering. Unambi materialised out of the cabin's shadows and stood in front of them, barring their way to the open door.
"Dis be bad," he said, his eyes sliding in the direction of the mine's tunnel, uneasy. "Dey got powa'ful dark magic wit' dem, Unambi be feelin' it, an' som'ting else, too." He hissed, his eyes narrowing into slits. "A demon. Da boss can't fight dat."
Over Unambi's shoulder, Idira caught VanCleef striding back and forth, his swords in his hands, his face alight, glaring at the closed gate over the tunnel to the mine shaft, his eyes glittering. Every now and again he would rush to the side of the ship, impatient, and yell at those coming for him, taunting them. The champions drew nearer, the dying screams of those within the mines growing louder with each heartbeat. Idira shuddered. VanCleef's enemies were moving fast, Unambi hadn't lied, they were powerful, very powerful. Kip's yells increased, desperation tingeing his commands.
The winch clanked on, slow, too slow. Shouts and screams came from right outside the gate to the cavern now, the explosions on the other side so loud they made Idira's ears ring. The last of the explosions faded away. Silence fell. She held her breath, waiting. The silence stretched on. A tendril of hope took root in her heart, growing as the silence continued. Had VanCleef's men won?
The men at the winch kept working, valiant, despite their proximity to the gate. With a tremendous groan, the doors split open. A thin beam of light pierced the darkness, sliding across the cavern and over Idira's face. She lifted her hand to her eyes, blinking in the sudden glare. Daylight. A gust of fresh sea air swept past. She inhaled, deep. Her heart swelled, wild with hope. They were going to make it. They were going to be free. Stormwind's champions had done the impossible, they had ended Idira's long imprisonment within the bowels of a mountain. She wished she could go to them and thank them, kneel before them and kiss their hands in gratitude. The beam of light widened. More air rushed in, hungry, washing the cavern free of the stink of its emptied latrines, cleansing it of the smoke of the torches. Freedom. She felt tears filling her eyes, her heart coming back to life. After almost a year trapped in the suffocating dark, she was finally going to be free again. She stepped toward the cabin's door, drawn to the light.
A huge blast shook the cavern, sending the gate flying outwards, rocks tumbled down from the cavern's roof, clattering against the cannons and rolling across the deck. Flaming pieces of timber, remnants of the gate, thudded against the ship's scaffolding; several chunks landed on the ship's deck, skidding across its surface, still burning. Vanessa screamed, her eyes wide. She clung to Idira, shaking with terror.
"Is that all you've got?" VanCleef sneered as he flung the burning pieces back at the champions.
"I want Mommy!" she wailed.
Idira drew Vanessa back into the shadows, her heart plummeting as she heard the screams of the men dying at the winch. She looked up at Unambi. He glanced at VanCleef, standing on one of the cannons, yelling insane things at the champions even as his men fell, one by one to the champions' magic. They had already cleared the cavern and were at the bottom of the scaffolding. Unambi lifted his finger to his lips and shook his head.
Quiet, he mouthed.
She nodded and knelt beside Vanessa, brushing the hair back from her niece's eyes. "I want you to go down and hide in the cupboard between our beds. You must be very quiet, don't cry or scream no matter what happens. You need to be very, very brave. Can you do that for me? When this is done, I will come for you and we will leave this place and go back out into the sunshine. That will be nice, won't it?"
"With Daddy?" Vanessa sobbed, standing on her toes, watching as VanCleef leapt back onto the deck from the cannon. He pulled a red scarf from his tunic and tied it over the bottom half of his face.
"You will pay for the one I lost!" he screamed, his whole body quaking with anticipation, his fingers flexing on the hilts of his swords. "Today you die!" he spat.
Idira nodded. "Yes, with your daddy." She hurried Vanessa back to the hatch and helped her down the ladder. She heard Kip bellowing to the men at the top of the scaffolding, warning VanCleef they were on him. She half-turned, listening, horrified as he fell, crying out in agony. Her heart clenched. Not Kip.
"Go! Quickly!" She pushed Vanessa down the ladder and closed the hatch, praying the child would do as she was told.
She turned to Unambi, panting, her heart pounding. They would kill him too, once they found him. She looked around the small cabin, there was no place for him to hide. No. She wouldn't lose him too. Not after all she had been through. She felt her Light rising up, only this time, it didn't make her feel sick, and she wasn't afraid; it connected her to Khadgar, it had saved them from Papa at Klaven's Tower, the Light had to be good. She closed her eyes, welcoming its presence as it rose up, suffusing her, surrounding her. She took Unambi's hand.
The sound of booted footsteps neared, a voice she didn't recognise gave commands, cold, efficient. The sound of fighting rose up again, brief, a scream, a grunt and two more bodies hit the deck, lifeless.
She closed her eyes, concentrating. Make us invisible. A surge of power swept through her, responding to her request. Euphoria filled her, and raw power, unlike anything she had ever felt before coursed through her.
She opened her eyes. The cabin burned with violet light.
"Ya eyes! Dey be glowin' brighta' den da sun!" Unambi leaned away from her, lifting his hand to shield his eyes.
He shimmered, wavering as though under water, then vanished. She caught her breath. Had she really done that?
"Is dat ya who be doin' dis?" Unambi asked in a hoarse whisper, impressed.
"Can you see me?" Idira whispered back, shivering with delight as the light cascaded through her, streaming like falling stars through her body.
"Ya be gone, and da Light, too." He squeezed her hand, proud. "Whoeva' ya be, ya be real special, Idira, real special."
VanCleef's shout made Idira turn. The champions approached him, hostile. Two wore heavy armour made of plate metal over their whole bodies, slits for their eyes and mouths in their helms were all that revealed someone human existed underneath. One of them carried a pair of enormous two-handed swords that glowed with enchantments, one glowed white, the other red. The other warrior held a mace with a long spike and a chain, glowing blue, in his other gauntleted hand he held a massive shield.
A female moved nearer to the group, she stood much taller than the two warriors, her green hair and pale green skin matching the intricate brown and green leather robe, gloves and shoulders she wore, in her hand she carried a gnarled wooden staff, curled into a loop at the top, flowers bloomed on it, and it glowed green, verdant with life. An illusion of leaves cascaded from it, a continual stream. She smiled and cast a spell, green light flared up around the one carrying the two swords.
"A night elf druid," Unambi breathed, impressed. "Powa'ful heala's."
The other two moved forward, both human, a male with long black hair, tied back into a long tail, wearing a beautiful cloth robe, bearing purple and black designs, his staff bore a rotating black crown at the top, suspending in the air. It streamed an inky vapour a putrid shade of purple, so dark it seemed almost black. Beside him, a huge blue-black shadowy being hovered, shaped like a massive inverted drop of water. It made strange sounds as it waited for its master to command it, a cross between a groan and a shudder, as though it suffered, just by existing.
"Da demon," Unambi murmured, wary. "Dat warlock's dark magic summoned dat ting from da Void."
The last champion stepped forward. Idira gaped, impressed. A beautiful, proud human female, her waist-length silver hair held back in a blue-gemmed silver circlet, looked over VanCleef, disdainful, her lips curving into a sneer. Her gown barely covered her slim body, her cleavage straining at the almost transparent material. Circular blue symbols rotated around her head and hands, glowing, crackling with magic. In her hands she carried a staff, far more impressive than any of the others', little bolts of blue lightning chased each other along its shaft and around its crest, a silver confection surrounded by rotating blue circles and shooting out little bolts of lightning.
"Da mage be da one wit' da most powa'," Unambi muttered, "an' she be knowin' it, too."
"VanCleef," she said, cold, her tone arch and elegant, reminding Idira of Nin's accent. She wondered if the mage was noble, too. "Today you die for the crimes you have committed against the people of Stormwind, for your thieving, your butchery, and your intention to attack the city of Stormwind."
VanCleef scoffed. "I don't think so."
He moved so fast, Idira barely registered it. He threw one of his swords into his other hand, and pulled a blade free from his tunic, it flew from his hand and into her beautiful breast, impaling her heart. Her eyes widened, disbelieving, as she clutched at the dagger's hilt and fell to her knees, the blue symbols surrounding her fading as her blood blossomed outwards, leaching into her gown, covering her hands. No longer arrogant, she struggled to pull the blade free, crying out in agony. Another blade fled from VanCleef's hand and slammed into the base of the druid's throat, stopping her from casting her spell to aid the fallen mage. Her mouth opened and closed in horror, no longer able to speak or cast spells as she scrabbled at the thing, choking and spluttering blood.
The two warriors eyed each other, one of them made a move to go to the druid, the one with the two swords shook his head.
"Not so clever now, are we?" VanCleef taunted from behind his mask. The warlock rushed forward with a desperate cry, his hands lighting up, fiery, his demon sliding toward VanCleef, wailing, agonised. The warlock's eyes moved for a heartbeat to the fallen mage, his love for her plain. A throwing star thudded into the space between his eyes. He collapsed to the ground, lifeless, the demon sighed, and vanished.
"Fools," VanCleef sneered, eyeing the warriors, "love is weakness. Love destroys everything." Another star slammed into the druid's throat, severing her jugular. She slid to the ground, bleeding out in a deep, hard gouts around the blade's serrated edge. She lifted a hand to the warrior carrying the shield and mace, imploring him to go to her. He glanced at the other warrior, and with a murmur, he turned away and knelt beside her, pulling off his helm. He eased the blades from her throat and held her against him, watching her, his eyes glistening with tears as she died, unable to speak, clutching at his arms, her eyes wild with fear and pain.
VanCleef laughed, cold. "Welcome to The Night's Cutlass, where love comes to die."
The druid slumped in the warrior's arms. He stared at her, disbelieving, even as her blood continued to leave her body, spreading out under him, staining his armour. He stood, trembling, furious and lifted his shield and mace.
"Now it's a fair fight, don't you think?" VanCleef spat as he pulled his swords free and ran towards the warriors. "Come to me. Let us end this, champions of Stormwind."
The warriors flanked him, working together, toying with VanCleef, trying to tire him, though they laboured to keep up with his quick, cat-like movements. VanCleef dodged and slid between them, his eyes burning bright, working his blades against their armour, searching for an opening. He ducked, sliding across the blood-soaked deck under the raised arm of the warrior bearing the two great swords, his curved sword slicing deep into the unprotected space under the warrior's arm, his blade finding its way between the warrior's ribs, cutting deep, all the way into his heart. Blood splattered against VanCleef's face and mask. He leapt away, panting and roared, triumphant.
The warrior staggered, struggling to remain on his feet. Bellowing in agony, he fought to lift his sword. It fell from his grip and hit the deck with a heavy thud, its glowing light fading. He turned. Idira could see his blood pumping out, bright red, sliding down his polished armour, streaming, relentless. He stumbled, his legs buckling under him. He slammed down onto his knees. Falling back onto his haunches, he raised a shaking hand to his side. It came back slick with blood. He looked up at the other warrior and shook his head.
The last warrior rushed at VanCleef with a roar, his armoured feet slamming, loud against the deck. He swung his mace, stepping to one side, aiming to strike VanCleef's chest. VanCleef moved away, just as the warrior shifted his weight and turned, completing his feint, and dropped his mace, swinging it low and back up again. The chain slammed against VanCleef's back, sending him crashing into the fallen warrior.
Idira clung to Unambi's hand as the fallen warrior shifted, his gauntleted hand reaching out, slow, inexorable, to grasp VanCleef's ankle, holding him in his iron grip. VanCleef staggered and howled, furious, twisting and slashing, frantic to free himself, his blades crashing against the warrior's plate-sheathed arm, the screech of blade against metal harsh, jarring. The other warrior rushed at VanCleef. Swinging his mace high, he spun it round, so that its spike faced VanCleef's chest.
Idira screamed. VanCleef turned just in time to see the spike. He let go of his swords. They tumbled, clattering, useless, to the deck.
"Myra," he cried, flinging his arms wide, preparing for the spike's deadly kiss. "My life for yours."
The spike slammed into his chest, he juddered as its point burst out from between his shoulder blades. Blood and gore exploded from him out onto the fallen warrior, hitting the warrior's armour with a sickening slap.
VanCleef fell to his knees, lifeless, his body spasmed hard, twice, then went limp, hanging, impaled upon the spike.
Stunned, Idira stared at the panting warrior, who sagged, exhausted, over his quarry. She blinked. After all this time, just like that, VanCleef was dead. It was over. She was free. The warrior pulled his mace free from VanCleef's body with a grunt. He shook it, sending bits of gore and blood splattering over the deck.
He knelt beside the fallen warrior and pulled the warrior's helm away. He was too late, the warrior was already dead. He stood up and looked over the carnage, at the fallen bodies of his comrades and his lover. He bent over, his armour clanking, and picked up one of VanCleef's swords. He kicked VanCleef onto his back and raised the sword high. Idira felt Unambi's hand move over her eyes. She shoved his hand away, impatient. She wasn't a child anymore.
It was already done. The warrior reached down and grabbed hold of VanCleef's dark hair in his metal fist. Blood sprayed from VanCleef's severed arteries, splattering the fallen champions as the warrior walked around, rummaging through the crates and stacks of supplies, grim. He found a hessian sack lying on top of a pile of coiled ropes and dropped VanCleef's head into it. Within heartbeats, blood saturated the bottom of it, seeping out in thick, viscous drops. He tied the sack to his belt and went over to the druid. He picked her up into his arms, shuddering with grief. Clutching her against his blood-smeared armour, he spoke several words, a spell. White light surrounded him and in a heartbeat he faded away, leaving nothing but the impression of a halo of light burned in the backs of Idira's eyes.
Idira sank to her knees, sensing the warmth of the Light leaving her. She looked up and caught Unambi gazing at the fallen, numb. A quiet sound came up from beneath them, the hatch opened, and Vanessa looked out, her eyes sliding to her father's body.
"Daddy?" she called, tremulous. Unambi tried to catch her but she was quick, just like her father. She darted past him and out onto the blood-soaked deck.
She stopped in front of VanCleef, staring, silent at her father's headless, gored body.
"Daddy?" she whispered as she knelt in his blood. She took his hand in hers, and looked at the fallen champions, her eyes narrowing.
"You killed my daddy. I won't forget this. Ever."
Idira didn't waste any time, now they had the chance to escape, all she could think about was getting out, before something else happened and they would never get away. She hurried to gather whatever she could, blankets, clothes, plates, the silver cutlery and the gold candelabra, stuffing all of it into the leather satchels they had packed in Moonbrook all those long months ago. She took the books too, she couldn't bear to leave them behind. Unambi came back from raiding the galley, carrying provisions and pots for cooking. He had found Blackie hiding between the cupboards and managed to coax her into her basket.
Holding Vanessa's hand, Idira followed Unambi down the scaffolding, walking the same path she had taken eleven months ago, trying to ignore the sounds of the serpents in the waters thrashing on the other side of the ship, feeding on the bodies Unambi had thrown over, to keep them occupied while they made they way out of the cavern on the little rowboat. She had looked for Kip, but he was gone, she wondered if Unambi had pitied him, refusing to leave him to rot like VanCleef and the champions.
Vanessa walked beside Idira silent and withdrawn, her eyes blank, seeming much older than her almost six years.
They reached the boat. Unambi loaded it with their belongings, his armour and daggers. Idira glanced over her shoulder, uneasy. Everywhere, the bodies of the dead lay scattered along the path up to the tunnel, the remains of the gate's timber splintered outwards, jagged, like the sharp teeth of the serpents below.
"Let's be leavin' dis place," Unambi murmured as he lifted Vanessa into the boat. Idira slipped in after her and sat down beside her, reaching up to take Blackie's basket from Unambi. She settled the basket onto her lap, just like when they arrived, only this time Blackie was quiet, as if she sensed her freedom was coming, too.
Vanessa looked up at the ship as Unambi cast off, expressionless. Idira wrapped her arm around her niece's shoulders. In the space of less than a year she had lost both her mother and her father, both of them to violent deaths. Idira tightened her hold on Vanessa as the boat wobbled under Unambi's efforts to row it. He cursed, quiet, struggling to work the pair of oars made for human use. The boat turned in a circle several times, and bumped against the dock more than once before he found his way and settled into the rhythm of rowing, pulling the little boat across the dark waters towards the gates.
Idira kept her gaze on the sliver of light, its sunbeams playing over the black-dark waters of the cavern, brightening and dulling whenever clouds passed over the sun. The scent of sea air beckoned, growing in strength with each passing moment. A gull cried, piercing the dead silence within the cavern, promising freedom. Idira lifted her face to the light, savouring the sun's warmth, listening to the splash of the oars as Unambi rowed on, determined, distancing them from the hated ship with each powerful stroke.
The memory of the dream with Khadgar flashed into Idira's mind, unbidden. She wondered where he was now, if he had found out about the one called Gul'dan. Maybe he was fighting him, even now. She hoped he was safe.
The boat slid into the narrow opening between the doors of the water gate, the space so tight, Unambi had to draw in the oars and pull them through, using his hands and the boat's momentum to drag them between the gates, their sides as thick as the length of the whole rowboat. They emerged out into the late afternoon sunshine, the sea air buffeting them, making Idira's hair blow around her face. The boat bobbed, playful in the choppy waters. Idira smiled. Free. They were free. Finally, it was over.
"Ya got anyplace ya want ta be goin'?" Unambi asked, settling the oars back in the water. He turned his face towards the wind, breathing deep, savouring the fresh, salty air.
Idira nodded, she had already thought it out a thousand times while trapped within VanCleef's ship.
"Follow the coast north," she pointed past the lighthouse. "Let's go home, to the farm. No one will be there, I'm sure of it. We'll be safe. You'll be safe."
Unambi cleared his throat. "Ya don' wan' ta be goin' ta Stormwind, ta da Lady Nin?" he asked, appearing nonchalant though when Idira met his eyes, he looked away. She realised he was afraid she might say yes.
"And have to leave you behind? My best friend? No, where I go, you go, and if you can't go there, I won't go there."
Unambi nodded and started rowing, slow powerful strokes, widening the distance between them and the hateful gates.
"Dat's right," he said to himself, quiet, pleased. "Dat's right. Dat's my Idira."
As the sea air filled Idira's lungs and the sunlight played over her skin, warming it, she hugged Vanessa, hoping the air might help her niece to revive, to grieve. But Vanessa just stared, silent, out at the ocean, her eyes dark and filled with hate.
Unambi rowed all through the rest of the afternoon and into the night, even as the sky's canopy darkened and began to blossom with stars and constellations. Idira watched the stars come out, one by one, their reflections cold and sharp against the dark waters of the ocean. She wondered which bright light was Khadgar's home. One star sparkled, bright, rotating, its colours shifting, red, orange, blue, white. Could that be where he was? He had looked up at the sky that night she met him, searching, too. Was he looking at his sky right now, even as she was looking at hers? She shivered, the thought pleasing her.
"Wait for me," she whispered to the star. "Please just wait for me to grow up. Don't find someone else first."
"Did ya say som'ting?" Unambi asked, his face shadowed in the starlight.
Idira blushed and shook her head. She stroked Vanessa's head on her lap. Her niece had finally fallen asleep, lulled by the rhythmic sound of Unambi's rowing, and the susurration of the waves crashing against the shore.
Ahead, the outline of mountains began to block Idira's view of the sky, their familiar peaks and valleys triggering memories long forgotten. She turned to look toward the shore. There. In the distance a little building stood alone, perched near the cliff's edge, surrounded by vast reaches of emptiness. Her breath caught. Home.
Under her quiet instructions, Unambi steered the boat up onto the shore. He jumped out and pulled it up onto the beach into the little cove where the crab pots used to be, where Idira had been saved from a vicious murloc by another murloc. She eyed the long sea grasses, growing in large clusters between them and the overgrown cliff path leading up to the farm, hoping there wouldn't be any bad murlocs.
Unambi stood up and stretched, working out the kinks in his muscles as he looked around, taking in their new surroundings. He grunted, a sound of approval. Idira hid her smile, secretly pleased he liked it.
A rustle came from the cluster of sea grass nearest them, Unambi reached into the boat and took out one of his daggers, wary.
A murloc stepped out, curious, its dark scales glistening in the light of the stars. It turned its head from side to side, and looked at Idira, eyeing her with its big, wet eyes. It made a little sound in its throat, it sounded like a question, almost hopeful. It went back into the sea grass, and returned a heartbeat later carrying something in its hands. It approached Idira, scuttling sideways out of Unambi's reach, holding what it had up to her.
A crab.
It asked again, soft. Something clattered, quiet, around its neck. Idira leaned closer. Her breath caught. The seashell necklace. The one she had left for her murloc friend all those years ago.
Idira choked as she accepted its gift, tears spilling from her eyes. "You waited for me. All these years, you never forgot me." She looked up at Unambi, watching her, his eyes soft.
"This is my friend," she whispered, "it saved my life once."
"Da Light be protectin' ya," Unambi murmured, his voice catching. He looked at the murloc. "Now ya be gettin' a new friend." He put his hand to his chest. "I be Unambi."
The murloc eyed Unambi for a long time. It glanced at Idira, then imitated Unambi, patting itself on the chest, making a short guttural noise with a little trill at the end. It turned and ran toward the cliff path, bouncing from one foot to the other, excited, waiting for them to follow.
"Ya be ready to go home?" Unambi asked, as he reached in to pick up Vanessa, still fast asleep.
"I am," Idira answered as she picked up Blackie's basket. "Let's go home."
The house looked the same as it had when she left. Run-down and forlorn; the windows and door still boarded up. It felt as though no one had been there since the day they left. The pot belly stove still stood where Borda had left it in the middle of the yard. So, the men hadn't come back for it after all. Somehow it didn't surprise her. She wondered if it could still be used. Unambi pulled the planks away from the door, dessicated after years of heat and drought, they snapped apart, brittle. Dust filled the porch, making Idira's throat itch. He went inside, to check for 'nasty tings like big spidas'. But the house was empty, not even a mouse stirred within.
He made two trips to the boat, carrying up their bags while Idira waited with Vanessa and the murloc, her niece eyeing the creature, curious, saying she had seen one of those before, in the galley of the ship, working as the chef. She had called it Cookie. Idira shook her head, amazed. All that time, and this was the first she had heard about it. A murloc, on the same ship as her, and she had never even known about it. Vanessa could certainly keep secrets.
The bags safe in the house, Unambi made a little fire out in the yard and prepared and cooked the crab, using the pots and utensils he had brought from the ship's galley. The murloc stayed with them for awhile, sitting to one side, watching them with its big eyes, making little happy sounds in its throat, it left before they sat down to eat on the porch, under the warm summer sky and the glow of the stars; quiet, companionable, peaceful. Unambi hung up his hammock in the bedroom, insisting Idira and Vanessa sleep in it. He gave it a little push, so they rocked, soft, lulled by the swaying of their bed and the sound of the waves crashing beneath the cliffs against the shore. He spread a blanket on the floor and lay down, Blackie curling up beside him, still licking her paws after her crab dinner. Idira wrapped her arm around Vanessa and for the first time in a very long time, fell asleep, content.
Idira woke in the middle of the night, sensing something had changed. Vanessa was gone. Warm and comfortable in her blanket, Idira assumed Vanessa had left to use the outhouse. She dozed for awhile, waiting for her niece to come back, but when she didn't, even after a long wait, Idira sat up, a twinge of worry catching at her heart.
She left the hammock, careful not to disturb Unambi and slipped out of the house. Maybe Vanessa was sick. She approached the outhouse, cautious. Its door drifted back and forth in the night air, unlatched. She knocked. No answer. She peeked inside. Empty. Alarmed, Idira turned, scanning the wide, open plains surrounding the farm. Nothing.
Maybe Vanessa wanted to be alone, to grieve, but Idira couldn't be sure, something felt off. Keeping quiet, she searched the yard and around the house and even went halfway down the cliff path. She took in the clefts, rock pools and grassy sand dunes spread across the beach, lit by light of the rising moon. The boat still sat where they had left it. Nothing moved, apart from the sea grasses rippling in the ocean breeze. She went back up to the house, hoping she had somehow missed Vanessa, and her little niece had returned while Idira was on the cliff path. She reached the house and knelt to look under the porch, just to be thorough. Only rubble and weeds greeted her. She stood up, brushing the dust from her dress. She closed her eyes. Show me. She waited, hoping her Light would help her.
Her Light filled her, soothing and warm. She opened her eyes, pleased. She was getting good at this. The faint image of a man stood before her, stuttering and flickering, cast in the dim glow of her violet light. He reached his hand out to her, as though saying something. He turned and looked over its shoulder, then back to her urgent. He leaned forward, and the image shimmered, coming into focus, just for a heartbeat.
Idira bit back a cry. Khadgar.
He looked over his shoulder, abrupt. He pulled his staff free and turned to fight an invisible opponent.
She reached out to touch the image, her fingers trembling. She had never seen him outside of the dream state. Was he seeing her right now, like she saw him? Was this how he had seen her that night in her dream, flickering and dim, just on the edge of his vision? Her fingers brushed against his tunic, she could feel the wool. Blood splattered against her fingers, hot. She snatched her hand back with a cry.
He shouted something to her over his shoulder, though she could hear nothing. He turned back to face his enemy once more. He lifted his staff high. A bolt of violet light shot through him and he vanished.
Idira staggered backwards, blinking, temporarily blinded by the sudden burst of bright light.
She heard the creak of the front door. Footsteps crossed the porch.
"Vanessa?" she called, squinting into the shadows.
"What ya be doin' out here, in da dark?" Unambi asked, quiet.
She jumped, startled to hear his voice and not Vanessa's. She turned, shaking, to point at the place where Khadgar had just been, her vision returning slow and steady. "Did you . . . did you see that?"
Unambi moved down the steps of the porch, eyeing the spot. "Dere be nothin' Unambi be seein'."
Idira blinked. Khadgar. She had touched him. She looked down at the blood on her hand. She held it up to Unambi. "Then, can you see this?"
Unambi looked at her hand then back at her. "What's Unambi meant ta be seein'?"
She touched the blood. It vanished as though it had never been, the skin on her hand pale and clean once more.
"It's gone," she whispered. She looked up at Unambi, her eyes filling with tears. What if Khadgar was hurt? What if it had been his blood on her hand? She couldn't bear it. The Light was cruel, only showing her tiny fragments of him, and none of it making any sense.
"Da Light be gettin' stronga' in ya," Unambi murmured, nodding. "I been waitin' for dat. Don' ya be worryin' Unambi be helpin' ya to use it, he be knowin' a ting or two about da magic."
Idira rubbed the back of her arm across her eyes, forcing her tears away, ashamed to be of thinking of Khadgar when Vanessa was missing.
"Vanessa's gone," she whispered. "I was trying to find her with my Light, instead I saw someone else."
Unambi patted Idira's shoulder, gentle. "Ya be savin' da Light for ya'self. It don' be for everyone. Unambi be a Gurubashi, he be da one ta be findin' Vanessa." He held out his hand. "Let's be goin'."
"No," Idira pulled back. "I want to stay here and wait, in case she comes back."
Unambi shifted, uneasy. "I don' like ta be leavin' ya behind."
Despite her inner turmoil, and her fear for Khadgar, Idira found a smile for Unambi. "It's alright, this is my home, I know every nook and cranny. And I have the boat if I need it. Anyway, someone has to stay. If Vanessa comes back and we are both gone, she might leave again."
Unambi looked down at his hands, he clenched them into fists, his unwillingness to leave Idira behind tangible. She touched his hand. "I have the murloc, I am not alone. Please find her, you'll be faster alone."
He shook his head, reluctant. "I don' be likin' dis." He looked out over the horizon, then back at Idira, fierce. "I won' be long. Don' make me regret dis."
"Go," Idira urged him, thinking of how much time had already passed and the hyenas that roamed the fields. "Bring her home."
He went into the house and came back out wearing his armour, his daggers at his hips. He moved across the yard, back and forth, seeking Vanessa's trail, he stopped and crouched down. He grunted and got up, loping away across the fields, following Vanessa's footsteps. His silhouette moved over a low hill and merged with the horizon. Idira turned back to the spot where Khadgar has stood. Show me. She whispered.
Nothing happened. She wondered what had changed. Maybe she needed to be frightened? She tried to be afraid and asked again. Nothing happened. She went to the porch and sat down on the steps, the night's breeze warm against her skin, blowing tendrils of her hair across her face. She tucked them behind her ears, trying to puzzle out what had changed.
She looked up at the stars again and found the one she hoped belonged to Khadgar. It had transited across the sky and now lay low on the horizon. Soon it would be gone. She felt her heart clench. Don't go.
A thought struck her. She sat up straight, chills running down her spine. What if it only worked when they were both under the influence of the Light at the same time? When she had dreamed of him, he had been thinking of her, or at least of her Light. Tonight, something must have been happening in his world and he needed answers, and he had called to her Light at the same time she had asked the Light for help.
She sat back, leaning against the top step of the porch and scoffed, bitter. What was she supposed to do, use the Light all the time waiting for the chance to see Khadgar's shadow and him to see hers? She scuffed her shoe in the dust. None of it made any sense. Was she able to use her Light or was the Light using her? She turned her attention back up to the star, watching as it lowered into the distant horizon.
"I don't know what I am," she whispered, her fingers moving to her hand where the blood had landed. "But if my Light can do anything, please just protect him and keep him safe."
A tingling shot through her, fading as fast as it arrived. She sighed. She had no idea what had just happened. Perhaps she had helped him. She hoped so, but she would never know.
Unambi returned alone, just as the sky shifted from a deep shade of pink to orange, heralding the dawn of a new day.
Idira stood up, never having left her spot, having waited, hoping her niece would return, safe. Unambi went to the well without saying a word and drew a bucket of water. He drank deep before coming to her. He settled into his crouch. She waited.
He told her, grim, how he had found Vanessa just in time to see her knocking on the door of a ramshackle farmhouse, two hours walk distant. The door opened and an old man and woman had looked out, wary. She'd said something and they'd stared at her, astonished, before bundling her inside. He couldn't hear what she'd said, even with his enhanced hearing. He'd had to stay far back, behind a hill, using the only cover he could find.
"I don't understand," Idira said. "Why would she run to strangers when she had us? And what could she tell them to make them want to help her? She's the daughter of VanCleef, a man hated by anyone not in the Brotherhood." She eyed Unambi. "Or do you think they were in the Brotherhood?"
Unambi scoffed and looked away. "Dey too old ta be anyting. She be a child. She only be seein' in black an' white." He picked up a stone, and tossed it across the yard. "I neva' tried ta help VanCleef. She be knowin' dat."
Idira stared at him. "What are you saying?" she asked. "That despite her grief, a six-year-old had the presence of mind to use you to get away from the ship, with the intention to leave us as soon as she had the chance? For what reason?"
Unambi sniffed and looked back at Idira, his eyes cold. "We don' be on da same side, her and me. I be seein' it in her eyes all da time I be rowin' dat boat. She couldn't stand da sight o' me. She be needin' someone ta blame for her father's downfall. Dat one seems ta be me, for now."
"Do you think she will tell those people about us?" Idira felt her hands clench into fists, a slash of resentment shooting through her. She'd had one day of happiness. One.
Unambi grunted. "We be findin' out soon enough, but I don' tink so. If I be guessin' I don' tink she be tellin' dem da truth, she's got a plan, dat one. She be pointin' in da opposite direction o' us, ta Jac's camps."
Idira said nothing. What was there to say? What could she do? Tears gathered in her eyes. Even dead, VanCleef still managed to cause misery. Her last connection to her sister, gone, because of him. She had believed with his death and their liberation the pain was over and she could begin to heal, but no, it was going to take a little while longer yet. She turned away, went back into the house and climbed into the hammock. She closed her eyes, exhausted and slept, dreaming of Myra, of Benny, of Vanessa and of VanCleef, and finally of Khadgar and the balcony on the floating city. He smiled at her and conjured a little bird in his hand. She touched its soft breast before it flew away, down into the gardens of the city.
When she woke a few hours later, she thought of the bird and realised her heart ached just a little bit less.