Delver Magic Book I: Sanctum's Breach
Page 17
Chapter 15
"What do you think it is?" Holli asked as her head swerved about on her arched neck. She did not like standing at the foot of this desert canyon wall. There was too much to focus on at once, too many places where attackers could hide. Small openings in the sandstone dotted the high rising edifice. A well placed archer could easily pick them both off without either of them knowing from where the fatal arrows had been launched. Thick ledges blocked her vision. Even now, warriors might be squatting low behind boulders, using small cracks and crevices to keep a watchful eye for an opportunity to ambush.
The threat of danger washed her fatigue away with the strength of a waterfall. The ache in her legs vanished, and she forgot her dry, sore throat which had become parched from breathing the dry desert air. Her vision became sharp as she surveyed all that stood before her.
Holli made no secret of her discomfort over approaching the sandstone mountain, but the delver had persisted and brought them to within arm’s reach of its very base. Her hand gripped the hilt of the Sword of Decree. A glistening light appeared just above the sheath for she had pulled the sword slightly from its cover, revealing a sliver of the blade.
Ryson, at first, paid her no mind. His body remained still. His head bent backward to allow him an upward glance at the face of the canyon wall. Rather than turning his head, he simply moved his eyes, from one small opening to another. He pulled his spyscope one last time from his pouch. He scanned several different openings and grunted in satisfaction. After pocketing the scope, he finally answered the elf's question.
"I believe it's a meeting place for them of some sort. It may also be a type of village for them to live, but I doubt any of them live here for long periods of time. From what I've seen and what Mappel told me, they spend almost the same amount of time alone as they do together."
"Are they in there now?" Holli demanded with a tone which made it clear she wished to know exactly what dangers they faced.
Ryson turned to her for the first time since they arrived at the foot of the wall, and he saw her hand upon the hilt of the sword. Her threatening stance alarmed him nearly to the point of anger. "Yes, they're there and don't even think about pulling that thing out. In fact, I want you to take your hand away from it right now."
Holli scowled at the delver. "It's my job to protect you." She spoke as if it were a rule never meant to be broken.
"It's also your job to see that my mission succeeds," Ryson shot back. "That means I have to meet with these algors. You're going to make that impossible if you continue to maintain that threatening position."
Holli's glare darted from the sandstone mountain to the face of the delver. "It is not a threatening position. It's a position of defense."
Ryson shook his head. "I don't care what it is. I want you to stop."
"You would have me leave us vulnerable?" Holli posed the question with as much disbelief as annoyance.
"I will have you let me complete what we were set out to do," Ryson stated abruptly. He bit his lip before continuing. With a heavy breath, he cleared his growing irritation. He renewed his request with a note of greater understanding, but with no less conviction. "Look, I know you're only doing this to keep me safe, but we can't have that right now. The algors are here, and they know we're here. They're not going to see us if they think you're going to lop their heads off."
Holli did not argue further. She removed her gaze from the delver and again returned to surveying the many openings in the cliffs. Her hand moved slowly away from the sword handle. It became a taut fist as she dropped it dropped to her side.
Ryson began pacing about the desert floor as he inspected the lower level of the sandstone wall. He knelt down at a few places and rubbed his hand against the rough, porous rock.
Holli virtually ignored him, and for the first time since their trip began, she allowed him to move about without following close behind. She kept a steady breath and a watchful eye, but she knew in her current position she was defenseless, an easy target for a myriad of attacks. She accepted the role with the same stubborn determination which moved her full speed through the desert. If she was to be sacrificed for the success of her mission, that was merely the distinction of her duty.
Ryson continued examining the rock wall. He would stand and brush the sand from his knees, only to take a few steps and kneel again. "I don't think they built this thing themselves," he muttered. "I think the wind and perhaps a long extinct river shaped it originally, but they sure made enough adaptations. I wouldn't be surprised if those openings led to a completely intertwined tunnel system, except for maybe a few of the lower ones. They're decoys. I doubt they go anywhere accept to dead ends. But they're definitely traps for possible invaders." He pointed to three openings which were closest to the ground, only three or four body lengths above the desert floor. "You see those three? If we went into any of those we wouldn't come out. They're all set to collapse. I guess the algors figured if invaders tried to climb up, they would investigate the first openings they came across. If they did, they'd never get a chance to climb any higher. Not that climbing it would be easy, not without the right tools anyway. Although, it looks like they've made some false facings that seem sturdy, but probably wouldn't hold any weight."
Ryson again stood erect and brushed his knees, then his hands. Loose grains of sand showered back to the ground before he walked placidly back to Holli's side.
"I don't think climbing is an option," Ryson said as he shook his head. "No, it's a safer bet if we stay here and wait for them to come out. That'll probably also let them feel better about us. We won't be forcing ourselves on them. I suggest we simply make camp here and hope they come out to see us."
Holli scanned the area. Overall, the plan held merit. The towering sandstone wall provided shade from the afternoon sun. It appeared the desert vegetation also approved of the cooler, albeit shadier ground. Groups of cacti and brush arose from the sand with greater numbers along this section of desert. Ryson had previously proven his skill in finding pockets of underground water, and she believed he would have no difficulty here. The canyon side also would prove to grant protection from hot southwesterly winds. In the refuge of the sandstone, the sand was not as dry and loose as in the open desert. It did not burn to the touch or grate with the same abrasiveness as the sand they just recently walked across. Indeed, this area held many advantages for a camp site, yet she looked to the openings far overhead with a weary eye.
"I do not like making a camp so close to this wall," she said firmly. "We are almost inviting an ambush. They could attack us at anytime from anywhere."
Ryson arched his neck as he directed his gaze across the face of the rock canyon. "That's very true, and I'm sure that bothers you. I just don't think we have any choice."
"There are always choices."
"That's also true, but none of the other choices will give us as much of a chance to convince the algors that we're here to see them and that we're not just a couple of lunatics out for a stroll in the desert."
"They may think that no matter what we do. And if that is the case, it may be more reason for us to consider our security."
"Let me ask you this, have you heard of the algors attacking any one of your people?" He paused to allow her to answer, but she remained silent. He continued, explaining his own difficulties of what they faced. "You see, I really don't know what to expect. I have no experience with algors. I'm basing all of my decisions on what Mappel has told me and from what I see in the desert."
"I have no experience with the algors, either," Holli admitted frankly. "The race avoids all contact with others. The elves have no cause to venture into the desert and the algors apparently care little for the forests. I can't say that I have ever heard of the algors attacking an elf, but I have also never heard of an elf seeking them out in their desert home."
"So you think it’s wiser to keep a safe distance from them?"
Holli simply nodded.
Yet, was that not the point of his mission? As absurd as it seemed, his main goal was to meet and talk with the algors, to convince them of the danger to the land and all of its inhabitants. Here he was, already in the desert, already following the thin veneer of signs that led him to this canyon.
In the end, he returned to the very things which brought him to this place. He turned to his inner most feelings. He hoped his own deepest instincts would guide him to a decision, just as they guided him through the desert. If he expected to meet with the algors to explain the breach in Sanctum and the threat of the sphere, he would have to gain their trust. With that thought, he gained the answer to his question. They would wait here in the open, wait for the algors to acknowledge them. How could he expect them to trust him, if he did not trust them first?
He made his decision known to Holli by yelling out to the canyon wall and the many openings within it.
"Algors! My name is Ryson Acumen. I'm a delver. I am with Holli Brances, an elf. We are here to speak with you."
His words echoed only slightly overhead against the cliff face. After that, the hot desert air swept them away. No other sound graced the area until Ryson continued.
"All the races must speak together! The Sphere of Ingar is free from Sanctum! We can tell you what we know, but we must meet with you."
He lowered his head, and his voice, as he turned his attention to Holli. "Let's make camp here. We have to show them that we trust them. I really don't think they'll attack us anyway. They'll either come down, or they'll ignore us. We'll just have to wait and see."
"We will not have to wait at all," Holli stated abruptly. Her face was expressionless, the demeanor of an elf guard facing the unknown. Her eyes narrowed as they scanned the entirety of the canyon wall. While she fought off her own instincts to pull her sword, she nodded for Ryson to look back.
Ryson caught his breath as he turned. In all of his experiences over the past few days, nothing could prepare him for this bizarre spectacle. Meeting an elf was one thing, this sight yanked at his grip on sanity. Even seeing the ghost of Shayed could not compare to what he now witnessed.
Like a legion of ants flowing from their anthill, countless algors erupted from the openings which abounded across the sandstone. Within mere moments, nearly every cave entrance spat out algors. An endless flow of yellowish green flowed down the canyon wall toward them. They climbed downward with casual ease, each algor moving in concert with the next, so as every apparent space of the cliff face was covered.
At first it was difficult for the delver to center his attention upon a single algor. Their coordinated movements kept Ryson scanning the growing flock as a single entity. Like a shifting, diving, turning school of fish, the moving multitude attracted attention from every angle and direction. Not one algor moved in opposition, not one algor stalled or paused. Step by step, foothold by foothold, lines of algors moved as if directed by a single consciousness. It was like watching a parade of well trained soldiers, soldiers that spent years together so that every movement was in precise order.
The delver and the elf marveled at the whole spectacle. Never had either witnessed such a display. Even the elf guard could not boast of such precise coordination of movement. It seemed impossible, as if the desert had finally taken control of their minds. It was not until the algors began their final approach towards them, that they were able to break free from the hold of the group movement.
As the first wave of algors reached the desert floor and stepped toward him, Ryson gasped out the breath he had held. He inspected their physical characteristics with as much wonder as he watched their movements. An upright toad, as tall as he was, was the only way he could describe them. Large black eyes bulged near the top of every head. Two holes formed nostrils at the end of the rounded snouts that jutted forward. The mouth opening crested wide, far back to the round greenish brown cheeks. Not much of a forehead existed, merely a space above and between the two eyes. The top of their heads curved slightly before dropping down to a wide neck. Small purple bumps took the place of hair.
As for their bodies, the algors wore no cloak to hide their scaly chest which was more yellow than green. Long thin arms hung nimbly from somewhat droopy shoulders. Long narrow legs, which appeared quite flexible, held the light weight of the algor easily. Claws tipped the thin fingers and toes and webbing filled the spaces between each. Just as the legends described, there was no sign of a tail.
More and more of the algors filed down the sandstone mountain and encircled the two messengers. They left a small space around Ryson and Holli as they formed an unbroken circle all the way around, but they left little room for themselves. They clumped themselves together in a growing, continuous ring, hardly leaving enough room to breathe. Arms appeared interlocked as they stood hip to hip and shoulder to shoulder. The chests of those that stood behind the inner ring pressed flat against the backs of those in front of them, and so it was for each ring which spread back from the inner point of Ryson and Holli.
It was all the elf could do to remain calm, to stand as if oblivious to the swarming presence. She bit back urge after urge to draw her sword and maintain a defensive position. It was not so much the sight of the algors which disturbed her, it was the simple fact that they were now completely surrounded. Not a single path existed for their escape. She tried to steady herself, and maintain a casual appearance as if the circling horde did not incite her. She hoped to maintain a single perspective as if to declare that she cared little for what was happening around her. All such attempts, however, were futile. Her head continued to shift from side to side as she kept a constant gauge on the space between them and each and every algor. She could not break from her training any more than she could stop breathing.
Ryson dealt with the circling mass with even less success. Such proximity to such foreign creatures stirred strange feelings. In his lifetime, he spent many a day seeking new and exotic places. It was part of his nature, part of his calling. He found nothing more exciting than coming across an unknown valley in the mountains or a secret cove on a deserted shore line. He thrilled at the first sight of large and small animals, anything that was new to him and the more foreign, the more bizarre, and the greater the thrill.
At this moment, however, he did not feel such unbounded excitement. Certainly, nothing could be more exotic than what stood before him now, yet, he actually recoiled from the sight of such unfamiliar creatures. It was one thing to be a delver on exploration; it was something else all together to break the very bonds of reality. Such was the case with a toad-faced creature that took the posture of an ordinary man.
The astonishing demeanor of the algor was not all that unnerved him. Their cresting numbers, which threatened to swallow every inch of space around him, left the delver searching in vain for open spaces. Just like his elf companion, he tossed his head from side to side with anxious rigor. He searched in vain for open spaces within the cascade of algors, searched for an open path, or even jagged breaks in their ranks, but none existed. He felt as if the rings of algors would suffocate him.
Again, his anxiety was unfamiliar. He spent many a day exploring tight caves and narrow caverns, spaces with barely enough room to move, and he never flinched. On countless occasions, he walked through forests so tightly bound with trees and underbrush that nearly all light vanished, even during the summit of the sun. Such excursions gave him no more apprehension then walking into the Night Watch Inn. Yet, this throng of algors left him more than uneasy. Claustrophobia chewed at his nerve endings and left him fighting for air.
Ryson could not speak. He stood helpless as a seemingly infinite number of bulging black eyes probed him. Suddenly, his claustrophobia, his aversion toward their strangeness, as well as the desert silence were all broken by a chorus which erupted from every angle of the ring of algors.
"What do you know of the orb?"
The request came from several dozen mouths at once, but they were in such unison that the words were clear.
Ryson flinched in surprise but said nothing. He understood the question, for the algors spoke as plainly as any human. He might have expected a slithering accent or croaking, throaty tone, but neither manifested itself.
The algors stood waiting for a reply, motionless for but a moment. Their own response to the delver's silence crackled and rippled throughout their own circles, a cacophony of questions and exclamations. Gone was the unity of their voice. The harmony of the first question which rang with such clarity was now replaced by a confused, muddled barrage. Each algor spoke a different message and each called out to be heard. Neither Ryson nor Holli could discern a single question or statement from the confused mass of voices.
The ruckus stopped as suddenly as it began just as a hundred or more algors spoke out again in unison. "Why don't you answer?"
The sudden shift from the undecipherable, disjointed outburst to this harmonic question left a strange echo in the air. Like a voice of reason breaking from the bounds of confusion, it prodded the delver into a reply.
"I didn't expect to see so many of you," he explained in a raspy, uncertain voice.
A checked gurgle of laughter broke from the mass, but was quickly stifled.
Ryson felt an immediate urge to explain further. "I mean, I knew there were a lot of you up there, I just didn't expect you all to come down at once."
Several questions broke from the crowd. Not all the algors spoke, so it was not like the first unintelligible outburst, but no question was the same. Ryson struggled to hear as many as possible.
"How did you find us?"
"What of the orb?"
"Who is responsible?"
These were the only questions he could make out. The others broke off into a cluttered echo of shouts.
Ryson took a deep breath. He took a quick glimpse at the ground to organize his thoughts. When he lifted his head and spoke, he tried to look at as many of them as possible at once, hoping they would understand he was addressing them all. He raised his voice to be heard, but kept it under a shout.
"The sphere is no longer contained in Sanctum," he started with emphasis, hoping they would not interrupt with another outburst. "It is still within the mountain, but it has used its power to create a breach in the wall. The magic which was buried with it is now being discharged throughout the land. Unfortunately, the magic still contains the poison which forced its burial in the first place. I have met with elves to discuss this. I am here as a messenger to ask you to come to Connel."
More questions erupted from the crowd. Again, Ryson strained to hear them all.
"How do we know it's true?"
"What of the foul creatures?
"How did the breach occur?"
Ryson held up his hand as the questions mounted. He could no longer decipher the words from even the closest algor. Their voices melded together into a rumbling chant of nonsensical syllables.
Slowly, reluctantly, the algors quieted.
Ryson spoke with as much patient composure as possible. "The sphere has gained an awareness of its own burial and has broken free with its own power. The return of the magic has brought with it the return of dark creatures. Goblins have returned to Uton. As for knowing it’s true, our very presence here should indicate there is something of great importance happening throughout the land."
Several algors in the rear shouted out together. "Do not believe him."
Ryson responded quickly. "Whether you believe me or not should not matter. The simple fact is that the magic is again free in the land. If you haven't noticed it yet, just wait. You will. There are signs of it occurring all around this desert of yours. I have already encountered the walking dead and a group of goblins. But like I said, you don't have to believe me. You'll see sooner or later. The point is that the sphere is free from Sanctum and it threatens us all."
"How does it threaten us?" A question broke clear from the crowd. It was again spoken by several algors, and again in unison.
"It contains a poison which will kill all of the races, kill every living thing in the land."
"The poison is directed at the elves," the chorus of voices replied.
Ryson shot a questioning glance at the mob. "Then you admit that you know the magic has returned?"
"We have known that for some time," spoke one voice from the back of the crowd.
"We have been able to return to the ancient art of healing," another single algor spoke from Ryson's right.
The algors continued to make statements, but they called them out one by one rather than all at once. Each algor was allowed to speak, if it so wanted, and now the others allowed each statement to be called out without interruption.
"The magic may not be pure, but we can still use it."
"It contains nothing which can hurt us."
"None of this concerns us."
It was this last statement that raised the ire of the delver. For the first time he raised his voice with more than a hint of anger. "So that's it? It doesn't concern you so you'll just hide out here in the desert? What are you going to do when the sphere finally turns toward you? What will you say when the poison starts affecting the algors? Will it concern you then? And what about the goblins, the undead and other creatures mutated by the tainted magic? When they start attacking you, will you simply tell them that none of this concerns you? Do you think they'll listen? I could have said the same thing when all of this happened. I'm not an elf. I'm a delver. But I realize we all have a stake in this."
Ryson's harangue was suddenly stopped in surprise as he felt a hand upon his shoulder. His head swung with deliberation. It was Holli's hand that held him, and it was Holli that spoke with gentle wisdom. "This will not help. Convincing them of the need for assistance is not the same as scolding them. We need their help."
Ryson bit his lip. He unclenched his tightly held fists and folded his hands together in front of him. Turning his attention back to the algors, he spoke with greater control. He did not, however, apologize for his outburst.
"If you know that the sphere is no longer contained, then you must accept that there is danger to the land. It is your own responsibility to determine what that danger is. You owe it to every one of your kind. I'm not asking you to do anything more than send representatives with me to meet at the town of Connel. Other races will be there. As you can see now, a delver is walking with an elf. I have been told the dwarves will also be present. Will it really help you if you miss this meeting? Or is it better that you understand what is happening? There you can discuss the merits of your own opinions and determine for yourselves if you are really threatened."
Before continuing further, Ryson recalled Mappel's insight about the algors. Algors were attracted to the unusual. The stranger the story the more likely the algor will embrace it. Ryson brought the most curious of the events back into his memory. It was not a difficult task. He spouted them off to the crowd with a dramatic flare.
"Maybe you are willing to wait this out in the desert, but are you truly aware of all that's happening around you? I have spoken to the ghost of Shayed. That's right, the elf sorceress that brought the races together in the Wizard War. She has returned and now waits for us at the summit of Sanctum. She waits for all the races. If you doubt any of this, remember that the magic has returned to the land. It allows the spirits to return just as it allows the goblins, just as it allows you to work with powers of healing. The land is changing. That much you can't deny. I suggest you find out just how much things have changed. Otherwise, the algors will be ignored in the mee
ting of the races, just as you will have decided to ignore my request."
Barely a moment of silence existed in the small gap between the end of Ryson's speech and the eruption of the algors. Voices rang out from the crowd. Some spoke in unison, others broke from the tide.
"It would not hurt to find out what is really happening."
"If Shayed has returned, we must be included."
"What if the sphere falls in the wrong hands?"
"Send out scouts."
"If there is a danger we should be prepared."
"We should not be left out of something so important."
Ryson seized the trend of agreement towards his purpose. "Then you must send some of your own with me now. Holli and I will guide you to Connel. We will see that you are told of everything we know. You will have your say in this matter. If you don't, decisions will be made without your consent. Can you afford such a thing when dealing with the Sphere of Ingar?"
A throng of fifty or more voices spoke in somber unison. While the chorus rang with clarity, its tone of anguish could not be denied. "No, we can not."
A single voice spoke out immediately after to throw one last dilemma at the delver.
"Connel is a human town. We can not go there."
Holli took the reins of the discussion for the first time and settled the matter quickly.
"We will bring you to my camp first. My people will see that you are brought into Connel unnoticed and protected. We will see that the humans do not harm you."
"Then it's settled," Ryson accented the point. "All you have to do is decide which of you will accompany us."
For the first time since crowding around Ryson and Holli, the algors turned their attention towards themselves. Heads bobbed about. Calls were shouted to and fro. The rumble of disconcerted voices turned into a roar. Every algor spoke at once, every algor shouted something different. None listened to what the next said.
The mass began to move again, but not in unison, not like the tightly defined group that brought them down from the canyon wall. Instead, algors moved independently and in every direction. They pressed passed the right and left of one another. They circled clockwise and counter clockwise. Some pushed to the forefront of the circle. Others left completely, returning to the holes high in the sandstone cliff face.
Ryson could not imagine a more confused sight. Like dry leaves scattered by the four winds, the algors mulled about without purpose or direction. If the delver hoped to gain any group consensus, such hope faded in this churning mass.
He rubbed his forehead with his hand, unsure of what to say or do next. At this point, he doubted he would have been heard even if he shouted. Algor after algor continued to step past, each mumbling or shouting something to a crowd that could not hear and did not wish to listen.
"This is ridiculous," Ryson mumbled to Holli. "I don't think we have time for this. Do you have any suggestions?"
Holli simply shook her head.
Ryson heaved a heavy, exasperated breath. He watched another group of algors vanish into the sandstone. He wondered if they would return, he wondered if it mattered. They were still encircled by hundreds of algors.
As he turned about to gauge the actual numbers that remained, he noticed many walking off into the desert by themselves. They walked without care, off into the barren desert as if it were nothing more than a casual walk in a small park. Those that left in this manner, left alone. They drifted off in separate directions, in every direction; north, south, east and west. Some rounded the wall of the sandstone canyon, others walked off toward the high dunes of the southeast. One after another they disappeared into the bright sand which continued to reflect the late afternoon sun.
As algors continued to leave into the sandstone caves or out into the vastness of the open desert, the numbers of algors which remained about Ryson and Holli dwindled. Soon, there was but fifty. They continued to speak out their minds as they moved about without form or pattern. The roar had also diminished. Now, their calls mounted to nothing more than a rumble. Still, Ryson could not make out any of what they said.
Suddenly, they stopped. They stopped talking. They reformed a tight circle about Ryson and Holli and stopped moving. Roughly twenty of the fifty voices called out to together.
"It is decided, we will accompany you."
Ryson could not mask his surprise. "All of you? There's about fifty."
"We are the most interested," the voices again rang out in unison. "The others have left it to us."
Joy over having the algors accept his plea mixed with apprehension over leading fifty back through the desert, to Holli's camp, and ultimately into Connel. "I don't know if it's a good idea to bring so many," Ryson stammered.
"Why?" the chorus questioned.
"It will attract too much attention," Ryson responded. "And it will be dangerous. How am I going to keep you together when we get to Dark Spruce Forest? What if we're attacked by goblins? For that matter, how am I going to conceal a group of fifty algors walking into Connel?"
The unity of the algors again disintegrated. One by one shouts disseminated from the smaller circle.
"If one goes, we all go."
"It will be more dangerous."
"A smaller group can travel faster."
"Who is to choose who goes?"
"Let the delver choose."
Ryson responded quickly to the last remark.
"You can't leave that to me," he insisted. "I'm not the one that should make that decision. We need algors that can speak for all of you. How do I know that? We also need algors that know the legend and the secrets of Sanctum."
"Any algor which stands before you can fulfill that task," the group again spoke in unity. "What one knows, we all know. We keep no secrets from each other."
"Then it doesn't matter which of you go. I shouldn't have to choose at all. You can decide," Ryson offered hopefully.
"How many do you suggest accompany you?"
"How about four?" Ryson speculated.
"No less than ten," the group responded. "But you must choose."
Ryson again looked to Holli for assistance, but got nothing more than a shrug.
Again he addressed the fifty. "Are you sure about this?"
"You must choose."
Ryson accepted the responsibility with great reluctance, but accept it he did. Randomly, he began tapping the shoulders of algors around him. He counted out numbers as he moved about the circle. When he reached ten, he returned to the center.
"If I touched your shoulder, you will come with us."
Without any dissent and without making a sound, the forty not chosen removed themselves from the circle. Some went off into the desert, some returned to the sandstone wall.
The ten moved in closer to the delver and elf. All ten spoke together. "You will lead us now to the elf camp."
Ryson held up his hand. "I don't want to head off just like that. We've had a long journey to get here and it's going to be a long walk back. It's late and the sun will set soon. For now, I would hope you would offer us a place to camp. The time of rest will be well spent."
Holli said nothing, but her expression revealed her relief.
"We can stay the night within the canyon," the algors replied. "But we will leave before dawn."
"Agreed," Ryson stated. "Keep in mind, this is going to be a long and potentially dangerous journey. Do you have any weapons to bring with you?"
"We will bring our slings." It was all they said before they turned and stepped up to the wall of the canyon.
Ryson and Holli looked at each other before following the small group up a short climb and into a hole in the sandstone mountain.