Although they would not survive — if such a term could be used — the beleaguered death knights would not go into death's final embrace alone. Still weak from the attack and his attempt to combat it, Antonidas could do nothing but watch helplessly as the two death knights turned, their bodies still blazing, and attacked the woman who had saved Antonidas. Sathera's pale face contorted, her head falling back and her black hair cascading around her like a shroud as air was forced from her lungs. Antonidas heard a crack as the increas­ing force collapsed her chest and crushed her bones.

"Sathera! No!"

Antonidas turned to see Prince Kael'thas, his hand­some features contorted with rage at the death of his friend and colleague. The elf raised both hands and drew them apart. Across the room one of the death knights jerked and then shrieked as his body was liter­ally torn limb from limb. The sight shocked Antonidas back to his senses.

"Kael'thas!" he shouted into the tumult as he strug­gled to his feet. "Kael'thas!" On the second attempt the elf turned and fixed Antonidas with his powerful stare.

'Don't let them teleport!" Antonidas shouted, fend­ing off an attack with one hand by erecting a quick shield upon which the deathbolt shattered. The elven prince shook his head as if to clear it, then nodded. He turned the full fury of his gaze upon the intruders and moved his hands to work the spell.

The leader snarled at Kael'thas. "Death knights, to me!" he shouted, holding the Eye high above him. The few who remained obeyed, forming a tight circle and facing away from the center to protect him and his prize. Even as Kael'thas murmured the incantations and the spell neared completion, the shadows about the intruders writhed once more, this time taking on a purplish cast as the Eye shed its light all around them, and the death knights' forms grew indistinct. They had escaped with barely a heartbeat to spare. Kael'thas swore in his native tongue.

The prey was gone — but they could be followed and trapped at their second location. Antonidas murmured a teleport incantation, adjusting it slightly so that he would rematerialize in the same place as the death knights. In an instant Antonidas found himself standing on a wide balcony. He recognized it as one of the Vio­let Citadel's upper floors. The death knights were all clustered together off to one side, their leader standing proud and tall among them, the Eye in his mailed hand. Krasus, Kael'thas, and others followed.

This time, Kael'thas and Antonidas were prepared, the spell already in their minds and on their tongues, and they were successful. The death knight leader whirled to give Antonidas a baleful stare, and the archmage permitted himself a slight smile.

"You were swifter in the vault, but we are swifter here. This balcony is warded against your teleportation spells. There is nowhere to run," Antonidas called out, staring right at the death knights' leader. They would now be able to capture or kill the death knights, keep­ing one alive for information. Then they would know a good deal more about the new Horde's leaders and their plans.

"Perhaps not," the lead death knight said softly, his words carrying nonetheless. "But why should we run when we can fly?"

At his words a wind sprang up behind him, from past the balcony, strong enough to make Antonidas stagger. A whistling noise accompanied it, growing louder and louder, and then a piece of the night sky dropped down alongside the balcony. The darkness slowly divided into several long, sinuous forms that hovered in the air just past the balcony railing, their cruel eyes staring out of their gleaming black faces. An­tonidas could already feel the heat beating at him, and his shirt was quickly soaked with sweat.

"Foolish human, did you believe we had come alone?" the death knight leader said, laughing. The largest dragon Antonidas had ever seen swooped in closer to the balcony until its long barbed chin rested over the railing.

Antonidas saw Krasus go pale and caught a single whispered word: "Deathwing."

At the sound of his name, the mighty dragon swiveled his head and fixed Krasus with an intent gaze. The mage did not cringe from that scrutiny, but An­tonidas staggered.

Deathwing? Here?

The death knight stepped up onto the railing and then across to Deathwing's back. "I have what I have came for. Let us be off!"

Antonidas recovered enough to hurl a lightning bolt at the fleeing figures, but it bounced off their shields. Teleporting was out of the question — they were mov­ing too quickly and too closely together. Kael'thas and the other magi shook their heads. They were simply not fast enough to strike at the death knights without possibly hitting and angering a dragon that would hap­pily incinerate the entire citadel.

As if to punctuate that threat, two of the dragons flanking Deathwing suddenly flew closer, opening their mouths wide. The magi could barely put up shields in time. Streams of molten red and gold burst from their wide-spread jaws, striking the balcony and igniting cur­tains and scrolls in the room behind them. Antonidas cursed under his breath as he watched the other death knights climb onto the dragons' backs and then soar up into the sky, disappearing from view. He knew the mighty creatures would tear right through the wards he had enacted — he had never built them to withstand giants.

Antonidas felt a stab of despair. He and the rest of the Kirin Tor were charged with protecting the city and its people, and tonight he had failed them. He had al­ways said that every mage should know his limits, and tonight, Antonidas knew that he had met his. He stared up at the sky, searching for any sign of the invaders, but they were gone. And they had the Eye of Dalaran, one of the city's most powerful artifacts.

I have what I came for, the death knight had said.

Antonidas knew what. The question was, why?

CHAPTER TWELVE

Fenris stared up at the clearly old edifice, confused. He had not been sure what to expect from the Tomb of Sargeras, but it was not this. What he had at first thought were carvings were in fact the shells and bones and spines of various sea creatures, attached to the building's outer walls from years of submersion. It was like seeing the bottom of a deep ocean, only raised up onto land and fashioned into a habitable struc­ture. And the door to this odd building hung wide open. "This is where that artifact awaits?" Fenris asked, frowning. He was having a hard time reconciling this place's lumpy appearance with the earth-shattering item Ner'zhul had said would be here.

The death knight had no such doubts, however. "It is here," Ragnok insisted. "I can sense it, deep inside."

"Then let's go!" Tagar shouted. "Why are we stand­ing around? The sooner we go in the sooner we come back out!'"

Fenris often found himself at odds with the Bonechewer chieftain, but he was right on that count. Fenris was anxious to be done with this job of courier. He signaled to his orcs and they followed Ragnok, Tagar, and Tagar's Bonechewer warriors inside. Every­where he looked he saw signs that the building had spent hundreds, perhaps even thousands, of years under water. Edges and corners were rounded, both from constant friction with the water and from moss and coral and shells that had attached themselves there. The floor was covered with mold and seaweed. Any decorations along the wall were either destroyed by all those years in the water or covered by just as many years of accumulation. Here and there some water had remained pooled, and was now long since stagnant. No light penetrated here — the strange building had no windows — but that was not a concern. Ragnok raised his hand and a burst of yellowish illumination appeared above him. It cast disturbing shadows about the corri­dor but at least allowed them to move steadily inward.