"Like hell," Aegwynn muttered. There was only one thing for her to do.

It had been almost four years since she brought Medivh back. That had drained all her magic at the time, as she'd told Jaina—but the magic never went away forever. Two decades after she had escaped to Bladescar, she had built up enough magical power to bring back her son. While she hadn't regained anywhere near that much in the four years since, she might well have enough to do what was necessary. If not—well, she'd lived almost a full millennium. As Lorena had so eloquently pointed out, that was a lot more than most people got.

Sweat was now pouring down Jaina's face. She was still kneeling, fists clenched and resting on her thighs. Aegwynn could feel the spell that she herself had written struggling to push past the blocks the warlocks were putting up.

Down on one knee at Jaina's side, Aegwynn grabbed the younger woman's left fist with both hands. She closed her eyes, gathered up her thoughts, her power, her very life essence. Focusing it, molding it, moving it, she channeled it all into her arms…then her forearms…then her hands…

And then to Jaina.

Fatigue rather suddenly overwhelmed her. Her bones felt heavy in her skin, her muscles ached as if she had just run a race, and her breaths came in shallow gasps. Ignoring all of it, Aegwynn continued to focus, willing her life, her magic, her very soul to Jaina Proudmoore.

Jaina opened her eyes. Normally an icy blue, they were now a fiery red.

No!

Simultaneously, both Aegwynn and Jaina said, "Yes!"

You cannot stop the Burning Blade! We will prevail over all, destroying everything in our path, and then we—aaaaaaaaaAAAAAAAARRRRRRRRGH!

Zmodlor's screams echoed—not only off the walls, but from the mouths of the warlocks, who felt sympathetic agony through the bond the demon had with them. Though Aegwynn's vision was fading, she saw Zmodlor's hideous body twist and contort, ichor spewing from wounds that suddenly ripped open.

A wind kicked up as the air itself was rent asunder by the spell Aegwynn had written—a portal to the Twisting Nether—pulling Zmodlor's body into the tear.

Noooooooo! I won't let you trap me aga—

The demon's words were cut off by his head being sucked in.

But the screams continued from the warlocks, even as the ground shook under Aegwynn's unsteady legs. Moments later, they stopped as they, too, were sucked into the Twisting Nether, where they would suffer anguish several orders of magnitude worse than what they had planned for the residents of Kalimdor.

The tear closed—but the cavern was still shaking.

Showing a soldier's capacity for stating the obvious, Lorena said, "We've got to get out of here!"

But Aegwynn couldn't make her limbs move. Her arms and legs felt like dead weights, and it took all her energy just to keep her eyes open.

One of the stalactites ripped from the cave roof with a sharp crack and impaled the floor less than a hands—breadth from where Aegwynn and Jaina both knelt.

Aegwynn heard Jaina start to mutter the incantation for the teleport spell.

Then she passed out.

Once again, Lady Jaina Proudmoore stood atop the butte on Razor Hill, gazing out over Durotar.

Soon, she heard the low, steady rumble that heralded the arrival of Thrall's airship. This time, the Warchief came with an honor guard, most of whom remained in the undercarriage while he climbed down the rope ladder to greet Jaina. One warrior, whom Jaina did not recognize, came down after him. When they alighted on the butte, the warrior stood three paces behind Thrall, holding his ax at the ready in front of him.

Smiling wryly, Jaina said, "Do you not trust me, Thrall?"

Thrall returned the smile. "My own closest advisor betrayed me, Jaina. I think it's best if I remain alert at all times—and with someone watching my back."

"A wise move."

"Is the threat truly ended?"

Jaina nodded. "It would appear to be. Zmodlor and the warlocks who performed his magicks have been banished to the Twisting Nether. Even the Burning Legion would be hard—pressed to liberate them—and so minor a demon would hardly be worth the effort."

"Well done. I only wish it could have been accomplished before blood was spilled unnecessarily." Thrall's hand went to his belt, from which hung a talisman in the shape of a flaming sword. Jaina assumed it belonged to Burx, the advisor who had allied himself with Zmodlor, just as Kristoff had. According to Major Davin's report—provided along with his letter of resignation—Thrall had killed Burx in front of a large cadre of orc and troll warriors for consorting with the Burning Blade.

Sighing, Jaina said, "We were very lucky, Thrall. Zmodlor may have been responsible for this, but he simply brought up hatreds that were already there. Look at how easily your people and mine took to killing each other at Northwatch."

"Indeed. It was far easier for our people to cooperate with the Burning Legion as a common enemy. Now…" His voice trailed off.

Silence hung in the air for a few moments before Jaina spoke again. "Before, I said that after this crisis was solved, we would speak of a treaty between our people."

"Yes. If this alliance is to outlive the two of us—and it must, if both humans and orcs are to survive—then we must formalize our alliance."

"I suggest we meet one week from today at Ratchet—it's a neutral port, and we can work out the specifics."

"Agreed. I shall bring Kalthar—he is the wisest of us."

Jaina couldn't help herself. "Wiser even than the Warchief?"

Thrall laughed. "Far far wiser than he. It will be done, Jaina."

"Excellent. Farewell, Thrall. I will see you in a week."

"Farewell, Jaina. May we come out of this crisis stronger than ever."

Nodding, Jaina cast the spell that would bring her back to her chambers.

Aegwynn was there waiting for her. It had taken the old woman a few days to awaken after she passed out in the cave, and Jaina had feared for a time that the Guardian would not recover at all.

Jaina had barely enough left in her to teleport the three of them to a spot a ways down on Dreadmist Peak, away from the mist. She could not take them any farther than that; somehow, she had dredged up enough to contact Theramore and have an airship come to fetch them.

Although Jaina was fairly ragged when the dirigible rescued them, Aegwynn was as weak as a kitten. A hot meal and a nap, and Jaina was fine. Aegwynn, however, needed a lot longer than that. The Chief Healer's initial prognosis was not good, but after a few days, he declared her to have the constitution of an elf.

Sure enough, she recovered fully. She now sat in the guest chair in Jaina's chambers. "About time you got back."

"I see you've recovered fully, Magna—your tongue included."

Aegwynn laughed. "So it would seem."

Jaina fell more than sat in her own chair, feeling rather tired. She wouldn't have minded a few days to recover from the ordeal herself, but had been unable to take the time. There was no chamberlain to fob off some of the work on to. Duree had handled as much as she could, but as useful as she was, she could not deal with any of the more complex aspects of running Theramore. Lorena had been somewhat more helpful, at least in military matters, but she too had no skill with other aspects of government. So Jaina was unable to devote herself fully to resting up—much to the irritation of the healer—which left her fatigued.

She regarded Aegwynn, who stared back with her deep green eyes. It frightened Jaina that their entire victory over Zmodlor was due to the happenstance of her choosing the Bladescar Highlands as the place to relocate the thunder lizards. Even if she had discovered that Zmodlor was responsible, without the erstwhile Guardian, she never would have been able to defeat the demon and his minions.