Delver Magic Book I: Sanctum's Breach

by Jeff Inlo

  Chapter 13

  Reader Matthew walked briskly, nearly trotting, as Mappel, Lief and Rachael followed his direct and unerring path back to the church. He did not glimpse over his shoulder even once to check on them. He simply expected them all to follow. He ignored, as well, the growing number of eyes which fell upon them.

  The morning's mist had given way to a clear, bright day, and the number of town residents on the streets swelled with the growing warmth. The two elves had returned the caps to their heads to avoid attracting attention, but the reader and his faith were known to most. As he passed, flanked by strangers, his robust pace fanned more than one passer-by's curiosity.

  With the hoods of their cloaks pulled up over their hats, the elves appeared as nothing more than foresters wearing too much clothing for a gorgeous, clear day. They matched step with the reader, as only Rachael seemed to have difficulty in keeping stride, and neither elf questioned the reader, even when they exited Consprite's office with great haste. They followed obediently, especially as it pleased them both to again be outdoors and away from the sterile smell of the mayor's office.

  Lief particularly welcomed the warm sun on his face. The open air brought a renewed sense of freedom. The blue sky overhead reminded him that no ceiling confined him. He drank in the sweet air. For a moment, he allowed himself a quick glance westward. He could not see the tree tops of his home, but he knew they were there. It was all he could do to keep from tearing off his outer cloak and race away from this town.

  Mappel, although grateful to break free from the mayor's probing questions, became more attentive of Matthew's excitement. Before this moment, before Rachael abruptly announced the appearance of some unknown visitor, the reader walked with a slow sure step, avoiding attention, carefully navigating the most unobtrusive path. At this moment, that was no longer the case. He now stepped fervently, caring little for crowds or gawking onlookers. Mappel could only surmise that the reader held great expectations for the new arrival announced by the woman follower of Godson.

  "Is he inside?" the reader asked Rachael with near booming exuberance as the group reached the steps of the church.

  "Yes, he's in your chambers."

  Matthew turned and ran up the stone stairs, his feet passing beyond every other step. He grabbed the door and yanked it open. It swung to its full length before it thudded against the stone door stop. It vibrated for but a moment, until its own great weight brought it to a motionless halt. Matthew was through the door in but a heartbeat. Before another such beat, he had already vanished beyond the line of sight of those that followed.

  Rachael also moved quickly up the stairs. She grabbed the door handle, but waited patiently for the two strangers to follow her inside before she swung it closed. Once all were inside, she set off down a small corridor and disappeared through a door in a far back corner of the church.

  Mappel and Lief looked about curiously. The main room of worship now contained several more anxious people. They totaled barely more than a dozen, but their whispers buzzed with excitement and sent an echoing hum through the rafters. In comparison to the space available to them within this building which was more like a fortress than a church, their number appeared meager at best. They could no more fill the many benches which lined the open space than Mappel's camp of elves could fill the branches of all the trees in Dark Spruce Forest. Yet, from what the elder elf remembered of Matthew's words, this must represent a great majority of the church's followers.

  Those within barely heeded the arrival of the elves. In fact if either Lief or Mappel had removed their caps, it was doubtful that any would have noticed. Instead, they chattered nervously, excitedly among themselves. They looked pensively toward the hallway which led to Matthew's personal chamber.

  "What should we do?" Lief asked softly while keeping a watchful eye on the people that continued to ignore them.

  "Let us move to a seat in the back where we will remain inconspicuous to these people. I assume the reader will summon us when the time is proper."

  The church members paid them no mind. Their attention remained centered upon the passage to Matthew's chamber.

  Both elves took satisfaction in the small respite, and neither felt at all uneasy with the present number of humans, a humble and unassuming lot.

  Lief took the opportunity to look about the large open space which represented the heart of the church. For the most part, it remained simple. It was void of any relics or symbols which might connect it to the faith of Godson. The walls, made of powerful stone, rose up to the thick wooden rafters of the roof. The benches stood aligned with a walkway down the center, leading away from the front door. At the path's end, a simple platform stood innocuously and just high enough to allow a clear view of a speaker.

  Lief's further inspection was cut short by the sudden appearance of the reader. He broke from the passageway into the vast open space alone. He took but a few steps toward the center before stopping to address the other followers who immediately ceased their chatter.

  "Friends, it is not my intention to keep things from you. I would have you all involved with what must be considered, if I could. Unfortunately, I am not even sure if it is my place to be included in what must be discussed here today. Please bear with me for but a few moments."

  The reader turned, but not back to his chamber. After scanning the room, his eyes fell upon the two seated in the back. He moved to them almost as quickly as he raced up the steps of the church. He leaned over Mappel and whispered so as no one else could hear.

  As the other church members watched silently, Mappel nodded and made but a passing remark to his companion.

  Lief rose and headed to a side door which Rachael had previously used. In but a moment, he was behind a closed door. It was time for him to send word to the elf sentries of Dark Spruce.

  Upon Lief's exit, Mappel turned his head back to the reader. They exchanged messages inaudible to the others. He then stood and followed Matthew to the center of the room, to within the very midst of the other followers. They gathered around the elf and the reader curiously, expectantly.

  It was Mappel who spoke. He stood still, his hands gently clasping his staff. Only his head turned about to meet the questioning gazes of those that now surrounded him.

  "Do not blame the reader for keeping you in the dark over what has been happening here. It was never his intention to hide anything from you. If you must blame someone of that, blame me. I will tell you now, what only a select others might know. You will understand, for your following allows you an appreciation for the land as it was." He tried not to pause, but he could not help stopping to inhale deeply before speaking his next sentence. "The Sphere of Ingar has broken free from its entombment, and the magic has returned to the land."

  Mumblings erupted, but soon all quieted to hear further explanation.

  Mappel held them calm with his reassuring voice and patient eyes. "I know you will find this difficult to accept. I have been told such a thing has not been prophesied for you. I can only say that such an event was also not included in elflore. I know such a thing, for I am an elf."

  With those words, he removed his cap and cloak and tossed them upon a nearby bench. He did so with a confident assurance, as if he knew exactly how those that surrounded him would react. He remained still for long seconds to allow the others a moment to vent their surprise. Indeed, the room was filled with gasps of shock and mumbles of disbelief. As the room finally quieted once more, Mappel concluded his address.

  "The events which are now unfolding are difficult for us all. Yet face them we must. And we must face them together. I ask that all of you keep this to yourselves. The reader has assured me you are capable of such and I have no cause to doubt that. The interpreter has returned to you. He has returned to discuss the sphere. As your reader has said, he does not wish to keep secrets from you, but I will ask your indulgence. I must speak to the interpreter. There are things we both must know. I would ask tha
t I may do this in private with only the Reader Matthew present. For now, this is how it must be done."

  Mappel turned and walked from the small crowd and toward Matthew's chamber.

  The reader lingered but for a moment to allow himself one last reassurance to the other followers. He then followed quickly after Mappel.

  Matthew took the lead after turning a small corner and guided the elf back to his chamber. The door remained open as Matthew stepped inside. With great respect, he presented the elder elf to the interpreter.

  Mappel walked purposefully into the chamber with dignified grace, almost as if he expected to meet royalty. He came to an abrupt halt upon witnessing the appropriately named interpreter. While Mappel knew little of the current customs and culture of the humans, he was well aware of their short life span, especially as compared to the longevity of the elf. He knew they grew old quickly. In but the turn of a handful of seasons, their lives past and age made its mark upon their faces. He thus expected a wizened old man. At the very least, a senior to the reader. That is not what he found.

  The youthful interpreter leapt from his chair with a broad smile and the energy of a young deer at play. He could not keep his eyes from the tips of Mappel's ears even as he held out a sturdy hand to grip Mappel's. His eyes sparkled with enthusiasm, rather than surprise.

  "An elf," he said almost joyously. "By the wisdom of Godson, an elf!" He laughed a gleeful laugh. "You don't know how happy it makes me to see you."

  Matthew moved past, but as he did, he noted the bewildered expression pulling upon Mappel's cheeks. He cleared his throat lightly before speaking to make introductions.

  "Mappel, this is Stephen Clarin. We also refer to him as the interpreter. Stephen, this is Mappel. He is an elder and leader from an elf camp in Dark Spruce Forest."

  Before the interpreter could utter another word in greeting, Mappel turned upon the reader. He had pulled his hand away from Stephen's grip as if it were nothing more than an illusion.

  "This young man is your interpreter?" Mappel could not withhold his question nor mask his disbelief.

  Stephen took no insult at the inquiry as he responded for the reader.

  "I am that," he spoke cheerily while continuing to steal yet another glance at the unique ears. "Not what you expected am I?"

  "No you are not," Mappel replied as he allowed himself to glance over Stephen's entire young body. "I do not wish to offend you, but I must admit I do not understand this. It does not fit with the rest of the story I have been told."

  "What story is that?" Stephen asked. His eyes twinkled even brighter, as if he was privy to some joke no one else in the room was aware of.

  Mappel's grip tightened about his staff. His voice rang with confusion. "That you came to this church ten complete cycles of the land ago, yet you appear less than thirty cycles now."

  "I am twenty-six," the interpreter said with no shame.

  "That would have made you sixteen upon your previous arrival to this church."

  "Yes, it would."

  "A boy of sixteen interpreting the prophecies of Godson to elders of the church?" The thought seemed so preposterous, so out of place for the elf. For but a moment, he pictured himself taking council from an elf of sixteen. Outlandish! Where was the wisdom of anything to be gained in but sixteen precious cycles of the land, let alone the ability to interpret such things as the prophecies of Godson?

  Stephen could not withhold a chuckle. "Yes, I'm afraid that's true. And I can't tell you how difficult that made things. Luckily, the followers of Godson are more willing to overlook such things; more likely than the town regulars."

  "Please explain to me how this can be." Mappel swam in a sea of apprehension as he made his plea. More than just disbelief now threatened to take hold of him. He had placed great hope upon this interpreter, hope that secrets of Sanctum might unravel within the combined understandings of elflore and the Book of Godson. Such expectations grew out of the high regard that the reader had placed in the interpreter, but the presence of this young man now nearly dashed such hopes. How could any one so young be knowledgeable to any great extent over such ancient and intricate composition?

  Stephen retook his chair as Mappel deferred an equal invitation and placed his staff upon the floor for support. The interpreter sunk happily into a relaxed state. Unlike the mayor, he took a non-challenging position in his tone and his expression. When he spoke, his words carried a simple ease and a self assurance. Apparently, he found no offense in being questioned over his age and revealed no hesitation in making an explanation.

  "People have said I was born with a gift. I do not wish to make any such judgments. I will simply say that Godson wishes to reveal the secrets of his prophecies, the secrets of the future, to the followers of his word. I have been chosen for that task. When I was very young, perhaps nothing more than an infant in your eyes, I sensed things before they happened. Everyone around me wanted to take advantage of what I could do. I was pushed and prodded. I faced constant demands. I began to hate what I was and what I could do. But that's a boring story, filled with self pity. Luckily, I realized I was allowed my ability for a greater purpose than to make others wealthy and famous. Now, I accept my fate, though I would appreciate it if you do not throw my name about with casual ease. You never know who might remember me. As for now, I simply move with the path that Godson makes for me.

  "That's a rather simple summary of my life, but its enough to get my point across. You wonder how someone so young could be able to provide the insight necessary to understand the prophecies. I tell you it has nothing to do with what I have learned or what I have done. It is the will of Godson and He doesn't seem to care how old I am. I was led to this task and the Church of Godson just as I was led to you now."

  Mappel raised an eyebrow. "Why would you say that? It was the messenger sent by Matthew that called your attention here. What makes you think it is the will of Godson?"

  "I never spoke to any messenger," Stephen responded flatly.

  Mappel turned a questioning glance towards the reader. His expression made it very clear he expected confirmation of such a statement.

  Matthew answered the unspoken question. "It's true. None of my messengers returned with him. In fact, I wondered how he could have gotten here so soon. We only sent word out this morning. I thought it might have just been pure luck that one of them came across him in a nearby town, but that's not the case. He began his trip several days ago."

  Mappel turned his attention back to the interpreter.

  "Why?" It was spoken cold and hard.

  The bubbling happiness in the interpreter dimmed ever so slightly. "I know what's happening. In my mind, I can see the sphere. Even now, it is still in the midst of Sanctum. It has broken the reflectors which cast the energies back into its center. It's sending out magic at will through a long break in the wall of the mountain. It will continue to do so until it is stopped. I can see this as I saw other things just as significant. I sensed your meeting with the delver. The reader tells me his name is Ryson Acumen. I can tell you this, that delver's importance to us all has not ended. Keep him with you in whatever you do."

  Mappel suddenly released a surprising burst of anger and impatience. He had given no warning to such an eruption, but he boiled over with demands. "Do not dare talk in riddles to me! Tell me what you know of my meeting and Ryson Acumen. Tell me the importance of the delver. If you truly understand what we face, then you know the danger as well. I will not stand here and play games with you. If you are blessed by Godson then you will happily reveal to me what to do and how this tragedy will unravel. If you wish to test me with riddles, I will mark you as a messenger of dark creatures, of those that wish to bring turmoil to the land rather than save it, or perhaps even of the sphere itself!"

  Mappel stared holes through the young man. He could not say if it was his tense dealing with the mayor or his growing anxiety over the poison magic which filled the air, but he kne
w his patience had worn thin. He would not stand there with this boy and play a guessing game over what was important and what was not. If the boy could see the outcome of this trial, he would know of it now.

  Any last trace of a smile left the interpreter's face. Sadness and guilt replaced the sparkle in his previously bright eyes. He exhaled once heavily. He spoke with his own frustration and sadness. "I'm sorry. It wasn't my intention to leave you with riddles. I'm not doing it on purpose anyway. I know it sounded like that, but sometimes I just don't know how to put things. The truth is that I don't know the exact importance of Ryson Acumen, not yet anyway. And I don't know what you should do, or what anyone of us should do, or how this will end up. My ability to understand what will happen or what can happen is limited. I'm allowed to see what I'm allowed to see. I only know that this delver remains important to us all."

  The elder elf looked deeply into the interpreter. With a grunt, he accepted Stephen's explanation. His tone, however, remained as dubious as ever. "So because of this insight of yours, you knew I was coming to Connel in hopes of finding a way to enter Sanctum safely and destroy the sphere?"

  "That's right."

  "Do you see anything else?" It was spoken more of a command than a request.

  The interpreter spoke openly of what he knew. "I see that you will bring all the races together here. Each race knows that something is terribly wrong. They will all meet with you."

  Mappel found hope in those words and chose to seize upon it. "Will they assist; will they reveal the secrets of Sanctum?"

  "I don't know, but I know only a small party will enter the mountain. I can't tell you what that means."

  Mappel brought a hand to his chin and stroked it as he considered the thought. He brought his stare back to the interpreter. "How sure of this are you?"

  "It will happen."

  "I see. You seem to be very sure of this, which brings me to another question. In my talks with Matthew, he had revealed that you predicted every important event which would affect the people of this church. Why did you miss this most important occurrence?"

  "I don't know, but I have a theory."

  "I would like to know it." Again, it was spoken as a command.

  Stephen hesitated for the first time. He repositioned himself in his chair as if something was poking him in the back. His discomfort seemed to grow as he spoke. "I don't believe this was supposed to happen. For some reason, I think it might actually be defying even the will of Godson. Understand; it is very hard for me to say that. I have gone through life believing that nothing could defy that will, that the prophesies would be ours without doubt. Now, I'm not so sure, and that scares me."

  Mappel pressed beyond Stephen's hesitancies. "As well it should, but what makes you believe this? Even Matthew admits that he can not find the prophesies which point to this moment, but he himself stated the races would reunite. This is causing that re-unification."

  "No, it isn't," Stephen said resolutely.

  Mappel was taken aback by this determined response. "What makes you say that? You yourself said that the races will all unite here at Connel. Are you now saying that prediction may not unfold?"

  "No, they will all be here, but this will not cause a re-unification. It's only temporary. It will not end the true separation. It will only serve as a reminder for the humans that other races exist. However this turns out, the races will again go their separate ways." Stephen noted the probing eyes of the elder elf. He continued with his explanation as clearly as possible. "I know what you're thinking. You're wondering if I know this, then why can't I see the conclusion of your plans. I told you before I don't know how this will end, and that's true. It's because for the first time in my life I see two possible outcomes. That has never happened before. Either the sphere will be destroyed or it shall remain intact to destroy everything in the land. But whichever happens, I know the races will again divide. They will either separate in fear of the sphere, or they will return to their previous lives."

  "You see two possible outcomes?" Matthew asked with an expression close to agony.

  "Yes, I do."

  The reader dropped his forehead into his hand. His anxious fingers caressed his own temples as if attempting to press the disconcerting thoughts from his mind. "Then there is no set destiny here for us."

  "It seems so."

  Mappel began to uncharacteristically pace the room. Instead of standing still with his palms wrapped about his staff, he traversed the floor, poking the end of the staff against the wool rug as if to punctuate each silent thought. He grunted twice and mumbled something barely audible to the other two that watched him intently. With one last great thud of his staff upon the floor, he again stood still. He leaned upon his staff and addressed both men.

  "There is no sense in us grieving over the interpreter's visions. We must take assurance in the fact that the possibility of destroying the sphere still exists. How this situation came about and what powers it might defy are no longer important to us. If our destinies are in our own hands, then so be it. I will remain hopeful that the forces which protect and enlighten us are still guiding our decisions. With that in mind I will turn to the most important question which must be posed to the interpreter. Do you know the secrets of Sanctum?"

  Stephen spoke clearly and resolutely. "I know what the humans placed within their tier. I don't know of what the other races placed."

  Mappel's eyes lit up like a bonfire. His voice actually cracked with expectancy "That is not important. The other races will be responsible for that. It is enough that you know the secret of the tier which belonged to the humans. That is what I hoped for."

  "Well, then your hope has been answered."

  Matthew spoke with a more guarded tone, but his excitement and interest were equally evident. "How did you come of this knowledge? I have never found anything in the book of Godson. Was it hidden behind the words?"

  Stephen shook his head resolutely. "No, the secret was never placed in the book. It was too well guarded for that. The human followers of Godson wanted to spread the word, but they didn't want to spread the secret. When copies of the book were made, the secret of the tier was purposely left out. It was kept separate. It was kept on two pieces of parchment and held by only two. When one of the holders passes on, the other goes out to find another holder so there will always be two living humans with the secret. The two holders must remain separate but they must always be aware of the other's health and whereabouts. That's how the parchment continued to pass on through so many generations. That's also how its existence faded from the memory of the humans."

  "You are a holder," Mappel stated as more of a fact than a question.

  "Yes, I am."

  Mappel tapped his finger gently against his staff. He stood silent for but a moment, both weighing his thoughts and the context of Stephen's words. When he spoke, his eyes locked upon the face of the interpreter.

  "Will you reveal to me the secret of the human tier?"

  Stephen answered the elder elf's gaze with an icy determined stare of his own. His position became as rigid and as solid as granite. His words were laced with strength. "I can not do that, at least not now."

  Mappel showed no sign of distress or disappointment. He continued to bear down upon the interpreter, trying to press his own will upon him. "It is now that I need it. You know what we all face. Hiding this secret will not help any of us. It could lead to our death. It could doom the land itself."

  "It could also doom the land if I reveal the secret at the wrong time. This is the wrong time," Stephen answered back, giving no quarter.

  "And what will be the right time? When it is too late?"

  Stephen again shook his head deliberately. "I have no intention of holding to this secret to such an extent."

  The interpreter inspected the palms of his hands as he tried to further explain his position. "You may think I am stubbornly holding to information without any true cause, but that
's not the case. I'll ask you to remember that what is written on the parchment is only one piece of the puzzle. Sanctum is comprised of five tiers and five secrets. What I know represents the secret of only one of those tiers." The interpreter looked towards Mappel. "I assume you have the secret kept by the elves. That is another piece of the puzzle. I'm not asking you to reveal that to me now. We have to wait, wait until the others are here. We have to agree how to handle this together and how to reveal the secret so that each race feels it has been dealt with fairly. Don't you think it might disturb the dwarves if they find out that we have shared information about Sanctum before they have arrived?"

  Mappel nodded his head. "I doubt they would be happy, but there may be no need to tell them of what was discussed in this chamber. It may ..."

  Stephen did not let him finish. "No need to tell them the truth? That's not a good way to start this thing out. It's better we tell everyone everything we know, and everything we intend to do. We need everyone's cooperation. I will hold to what I know, and you will hold to your secret. Otherwise we invite trouble before we even begin this thing."

  It was Matthew who spoke up in as much defense of himself as for the interpreter. "It is as I feared, the one with the responsibility of the secret has much to consider. Perhaps, it will be a relief to us all when all the secrets of Sanctum are finally free."

  "But they must be freed at the proper time," Stephen insisted. "I have seen, thus I know, that at least one representative of each race will convene in this church. Would that not be a better time to discuss what we all must face?"

  "There is wisdom in what you say," Mappel conceded. "That, I can not deny, but I do not like waiting, and there is little else for us to do."

  "Not necessarily," Stephen said with a renewed twinkle in his eyes. The relaxed and comforting smile returned to his lips as he again settled back into his chair. "I can explain the revelations in detail as I have seen them regarding what we must do, what I have seen happening and what I know is to come. With your knowledge of elflore we might put together a plan before we know all the secrets."

  "More wisdom," Mappel nodded appreciatively.

  "Thank you," Stephen responded graciously. "I also have a question for you, which I already believe I know the answer. You haven't found anyone from the delver race who might know their secret, have you?"

  Mappel spoke with a grunt of dissatisfaction. Of all the tiers, he believed the human tier would be the most difficult to disclose. It was beyond him to believe that the human secret would be so close at hand, while another would remain more elusive. "No, I haven't. I sent word to the dwarves to send one with the knowledge of Sanctum. I gave Ryson Acumen the same message to bring to the algors. But Ryson himself could give me no insight as to who to inquire about the secret of the delver's tier."

  "Then we have a problem to deal with as well. I don't know where to find that answer, either. In fact, I wouldn't be surprised if the secret was lost. I hate to say things like that, but we have to face the possibility. Where the humans had the church of Godson to maintain the legends, the delvers had no church. In my dealings with them, I know they are aware of the legends, but they don't have any structured following that I know of. Their race became splintered and eventually absorbed by the humans. It is difficult enough these days to find a pure bred delver. This may mean their piece of the puzzle is lost."

  "If that is true, we may face a losing battle," Mappel said. "I had not truly thought of the delver's tier until now. I had spoken briefly to Ryson of it. He had hoped that Matthew might know of where to look."

  Both Stephen and Mappel turned a hopeful gaze toward the reader, but Matthew's expression curtailed any further enthusiasm.

  "I didn't even know the human's secret of the tiers," he admitted with a sour grimace. "How should I be expected to know of what the delvers put in Sanctum?"

  "Maybe Ryson thought you would know of someone in Connel who might know?" Stephen posed.

  "He would know better than I. All I can suggest is asking other delvers. They mostly spend time at the Night Watch Inn. But what am I supposed to do? Just go up to total strangers, ask them if they are delvers and then ask them if they know of the secrets in Sanctum Mountain? I don't think that would be wise."

  "No, it would not," Mappel allowed. "But it is also unwise to ignore the issue. As Stephen has stated, Sanctum is a puzzle of five pieces. We gain little if we obtain only four."

  "I wouldn't go that far," Stephen said optimistically. "If we manage to agree on a way to reveal four of the secrets, that in itself is an accomplishment."

  "Small accomplishments will mean little if they do not lead to ultimate victory," Mappel reminded the youthful interpreter as if to warn him of the price of failure. "This is not something in which we can accept limited success. We succeed fully, or we perish."

  "Maybe the best thing to do is wait until Ryson returns," Matthew advised. "He would know the other delvers here in Connel. He would be the best to approach them."

  "That's as good a plan as any," Stephen chimed.

  "It delays things," Mappel replied sternly, "But I realize we have little other choice. For now I would like to hear the details of your visions. I want to know what you see in both of the alternative outcomes. There might indeed be something I might sense which will lead us in the right direction."

  Stephen crossed his hands in his lap and looked to Mappel with a true willingness to express his revelations. His voice, however, turned somber and near hollow despair rung from his words.

  "I will tell you everything my mind has seen of both. I hope you can determine what to do because I can tell you the scene I see if we fail is a terrible and frightening thing to witness. We will all die slowly, withering away as the sphere turns our land into a sea of dust."