Delver Magic Book I: Sanctum's Breach

by Jeff Inlo

  Chapter 16

  Ryson glanced over his shoulder for the third time in a span of but twenty paces. He said nothing to the others, but he noticed Holli making similar checks. They had left the loose sand and the dry wind behind them, but he doubted it was the fading sight of the desert which called to her.

  He knew she was happy to be upon solid footing, away from the shifting sands and the bone scorching heat. A few stubborn trees sprung up from the rock hard ground. He knew that sight brought her solace. Even now, larger clusters of trees poked above the horizon in the direction they traveled. Before the sun dropped from its peak in the sky, they would be within sight of Dark Spruce Forest.

  He knew she was well aware of this, yet her attention clearly focused on their flanks and not upon the path ahead. Her weary glances to their rear far surpassed her normal cautiousness. Her darting eyes continued to scan the land in every direction, but he could not deny that her sweeping glances to the southwest were more deliberate. He could also not deny that her apparent concern simply matched his own.

  Perhaps she spotted something, or heard something; Ryson could not tell. He had not seen or heard anything as of yet, but he, too, was well aware of something which followed them. He believed it picked up their trail just as the sandy terrain gave way to the rocks of these canyons and hills which separated the forest from the desert. Whatever it was, it was keeping out of sight and paying careful attention to the wind. Only during sudden shifts, caused by breaks in the rocky hills, did Ryson pick up an unfamiliar scent. It disappeared quickly, as if that which pursued them noticed the change and adjusted its position to compensate.

  He did not recognize the scent, for it was totally unfamiliar. Frustration loomed as his ever observant senses failed to identify the threat. He knew it had little to do with the algors that accompanied him. He had spent many hours resting and traveling with the ten that now walked at his side. In that time, he grew accustomed to them, etched an understanding of their appearance, their sounds, and their scents into his mind. Whatever followed was surely far removed from the race of algors.

  But there was also something else which nagged at the delver—a second threat; something that moved behind the first pursuer. He could almost sense a third party; someone or something which remained far in the distance. He was not totally sure, no true signs he could point to, only a penetrating sensation that a second pair of eyes followed them as well.

  He wondered if it was nothing more than nerves, overcompensation for dealing with the magic. Or it might have been the magic itself; some strange spell that drifted in the air and confused his senses.

  Even as he considered this explanation, he could not accept it. The feeling of being watched, of being followed; this was a sensation he experienced before, before the magic tumbled back into the land. It was a feeling his mother and father told him to trust, a feeling which was part of being a delver.

  He would not doubt his instincts. Such an act would be more than foolish. He now accepted the fact that they were being followed not by just one, but by two separate individuals or groups.

  With acceptance came the need for a solution. If they were being followed, it represented a threat and endangered his mission. If he was to succeed, he must identify these threats, and ultimately remove them.

  He considered the facts. The closest pursuer was acting more like a hunter; moving with stealth, but taking risks to close the gap. Its intentions were obviously far more ruthless than that of the second entity. Ryson wondered if even Holli was aware of the second follower. He doubted it, for it was only a deep sensation within himself which alerted him to that presence. Thus, his mind set upon the nearest hazard.

  Ryson turned his attention to their own trail and looked upon the ground they passed over. He, himself, left no mark upon the ground. The elf guard also left no sign, but the clawed toes of the algors made unmistakable scratches in the rocks, scratches which indicated their movements as clearly as if they tied balloons to their path.

  Ryson faced the simple truth that anyone, even the most novice tracker, could follow them while staying out of sight. If he hoped to force the pursuer out into the open, he would have to put an end to such markings.

  Hiding such a trail would not be impossible, but he would have to have the assistance of the algors. They would have to walk carefully, upon the heels of their feet with their toes upward. He wondered if they would acquiesce to such a request, and if so, how much it would slow their progress. As he contemplated their willingness to agree to such a demand, he considered if they even cared about what dangers they faced.

  The algors, with their small cactus skin sacks draped over their shoulders, paid little mind to the backward glances of both the delver and the elf. They walked onward at the direction of both Ryson and Holli with their faces and eyes forward, oblivious to everything behind them.

  Unable to make a firm decision and desiring greater information, the delver solicited advice. Ryson caught Holli's attention as she made yet another backwards glance over her shoulder. He pointed with his thumb off into the distance behind them and nodded his head.

  Holli returned the nod.

  "I want to talk with you," Ryson whispered. He then heaved a heavy breath and called for the attention of the algors.

  The algors stopped and turned about. They tilted their heads as the delver walked within whispering distance.

  "Keep your attention on me," the delver said softly but with a hard edge. "And don't show any concern." Actually, he didn't know if the algors could reveal anything other than confusion. Their expressions always seemed the same, but he remembered how they walked about in a jumbled mass when they debated some question. For now, he wanted them to stay put. "I want you to act as if I've asked you to take a short break for rest and food. I want you to take a seat over there, on that small group of rocks. Take some food from your bags. Keep your slings handy, but out of sight. Something is following us. I don't know what it is ..."

  Before he could continue, the algors shuffled off casually to the rocks as Ryson directed. They gathered about as if nothing at all was wrong and appeared to aimlessly remove food from their bags. Roughly half of them, however, draped their slings over the sides of their pouches. Those that did not pull out their slings discreetly kicked and nudged fist-sized rocks within reach.

  Ryson marveled at the algors actions. They did not require long explanations. They followed his instructions implicitly, and they showed not the slightest sign of panic. If the delver himself was watching from a distance, he would never have believed the algors were informed of any danger.

  More than satisfied with these results, he motioned for Holli to follow him over to a small tree. He picked a small nut from a lower branch and broke it open. He offered it to the elf as he picked another. He spoke with his attention on the tree.

  "I guess we both know we're being followed. Have you seen anything?"

  Holli spoke coolly, as if a well trained subordinate making a report to an officer.

  "Yes, it fell into sight only once. It was crouched down and appeared like only another boulder, but I make mental notes of the positions of all large rocks to gauge the distance we travel. We passed no such boulder. I turned my head and allowed sufficient time for it to move. When I checked again, the boulder was gone. I have not seen it since. I can not tell you with any great accuracy where it is right now or if it continues to follow us."

  "It's still following us," Ryson assured. "What do you think it is?"

  "I can only believe it is a mountain shag. It was too far away for me to see any detail, but based on its crouch and the space it filled, its overall height would exceed two average elves."

  "That big? Could it be anything else?"

  "It could be anything. With the magic as it is, it could be another mutation. But I sincerely believe that it is a mountain shag."

  "Well, I put great trust in your assumptions." The mention of a mountain shag brought
little solace to the delver. While it revealed what followed them, it did little to tell him more. He dug into his own memory of the legends, but found little to draw upon. He needed to know more about what true hazards the shag presented, and he pressed the elf for more information. "Besides being tall, what else can you tell me about it?"

  "It is strong, but only marginally quick. While it has speed, I doubt it could match yours or mine. We can outrun it if necessary."

  "Even with the algors?"

  Holli shook her head. "Doubtful."

  "Then that's not an option. What else?"

  "It is heavy. It can climb rocks like a mountain goat, but it needs solid ground to support its weight. If we make it to the forest, even with the algors, we can escape. It would not be able to climb or move through the trees as we would. It would eventually lose our trail as it blunders through the forest, forced to break the branches which block its path. Shags are, however, somewhat intelligent. I am sure it knows the forest looms ahead of us. If it wishes to attack, it will do so before it loses the advantage of the terrain. It will probably wait until we reach the taller hills and attack from above. It will then use its weight and strength to drop down on us and take out as many as possible. If we try and beat it to the higher ground, it will trap us by circling the foot of any hill we choose to climb. It will then simply outwait us."

  Realizing that outrunning the shag would be futile, Ryson turned over the option of a forward attack. "The algors have their slings ready, and you have your bow. If I lure it into the open, you can send a barrage upon it. Maybe it will be enough to scare it away. Do you think we can overpower it with our weapons?"

  While Holli's face remained expressionless, her tone revealed her skepticism. "The slings will do little. Blunt weapons, even when projected with a sling will do little to hurt a mountain shag. The matted hair and thick skin give it protection. The best weapon against it is the bow with long tipped arrows. We have but one bow and the shag has a high tolerance to pain. I can aim for the eyes, but I don't know if that will stop it. The first may only anger it, and that is as risky as trying to outrun it."

  "What about your sword?"

  "A sword can be effective, but it's a dangerous ploy. If you're close enough to use the blade of a sword, you're within the grasp of its long arms."

  Ryson turned his head and scanned the entire horizon. He also took in a quick glimpse of the sky. It remained clear with no signs of storms. The temperature was still very warm, attributable to the southerly winds which blew off of the desert.

  Ryson eyed the algors. "I didn't tell them what was following us. Do you think they know?"

  "They have showed no sign of alarm."

  "Do algors even know what a mountain shag is?" Ryson wondered openly.

  "Who is to say for sure, but I would guess so. They have already said that they share no secrets from one another, that what one knows they all know. I don't know how much knowledge they retain of the legends, but they knew of Sanctum and the sphere."

  "I agree," Ryson affirmed as he removed his gaze from the algors. He hoped not to alarm them further, though they sat and ate as if it were an ordinary meal, as if they were still within the reaches of their desert home.

  Ryson began picking once more at the branches for scattered nuts. He offered a handful to the elf. "What about the algors in a hand to hand fight against a shag? They seem to have sharp claws. And there are ten of them. If they group together, they could be a dangerous weapon themselves."

  "I have heard ancient stories of mountain shags," Holli began with a distressing tone. "Powered in some way by the magic which filled the air, a single shag attacked entire elf camps, dodging arrows and carrying away as many as a half dozen at a time. These tales make me believe that the shag is not concerned with our numbers. As for the algors combat abilities, I can not say. They carry a sling. That makes me believe they prefer fighting at a distance. I'm sure they would use their claws if that were their last option, but I wouldn't count on their effectiveness."

  Ryson put a hand to his chin as he considered their predicament with growing dismay. "Then we're really not facing a very positive situation here. If this thing wants us, it's going to take us in the hills ahead, and unless we get lucky, there's not much we can do about it. We have to proceed, but we'd simply be walking right where it wants us. And I don't want to hang around here for night to fall."

  "No, that would be disastrous," Holli emphasized.

  "What are our true options?"

  Holli did not hesitate in replying. She had obviously given the matter much thought as they traveled and was prepared with an answer.

  "We have three. If it is still behind us as you say, we can try to outrun it to the forest. With a quick pace, there is a chance we might keep ahead of it and avoid an ambush in the taller hills."

  "How fast do you think the algors can move over this type of ground?" Ryson questioned with more than a hint of doubt in his lowered voice.

  "Not fast, but if we catch the shag off guard, it might be fast enough."

  Ryson pictured the group charging off in hopes of making a mad dash to the trees. He could imagine the shag would respond to such a tactic by increasing its own pace. The shag would have to realize that they were aware of its presence. Such a revelation would perhaps only lead to an immediate engagement. The group would probably be caught in a state of confusion and unprepared to handle the attack. "That's too big a chance. What's option number two?"

  "Change our direction to the north and avoid the tall hills all together. Stay on the flat level rock as we are on now and head for the Fuge River. Shags don't like the water.

  "Why not?" Ryson asked quickly.

  "They are natural enemies of the river rogues."

  The mention of yet another mythical monster offered little if any consolation. "Won't that mean we might be trading in one attacker for another?! I've heard about these river rogues. I don't want to run into one of those, either. We might also not reach the river by night fall. Do you really want to be caught out here not knowing if we're going to be trapped between our friend back there and a river rogue ahead of us?"

  "No," Holli replied simply. "But it is a better alternative then simply continuing forward. I believe the shag will eventually attack once we reach the tall hills. At least if we head to the river, there is a chance we might get away without running into a rogue."

  "What about our third option?"

  Holli looked directly into the eyes of the delver. She spoke with blunt determination. "I can stay behind and cut off the shag while you lead the algors to safety. I have the Sword of Decree. If I but touch the shag with the blade, it will flee. They are no fonder of the burning touch of fire than they are of water."

  "Out of the question," Ryson said flatly.

  Holli did not retreat from her determined stance. "Do not be so hasty. It is the best of the options. I will accept my chances of success. No matter what happens, it will guarantee the safety of the algors and yourself."

  Ryson shook his head. "You seem to forget one thing. You're now more important than I am. I found the algors and have delivered my message. They have agreed to follow us, but you have to bring them to your camp first. It is what you have promised them. If we lose you, we can't fulfill that promise. You know the way back to your camp, I don't"

  It was an undeniable lie. With his skills as a delver and his diligence toward recalling trails, Ryson could have easily led them all back to the center of the elf camp. He did not, however, wish to see Holli take such a risk as facing the shag alone. He also began to develop an option of his own.

  "There's a better way," Ryson stated firmly. "A safer way where no one will have to actually face the shag. You will lead the algors back to your camp, and I'll stay behind and keep the shag from following."

  Holli immediately began to protest, but she held her tongue as Ryson spoke forcibly, making it clear he wished to finish.

  "Do
n't misunderstand me, I'm not trying to be a hero here, and I'm not talking about facing it in some kind of fight. I don't want to get near it and I have no intention of doing so. I'm talking about doing what I do best. I'll cover your trail and make a false one. I'll lead it off away from you. I'll let it close enough to know that I'm still around, but no where near where it can do any harm. I'll only have to do it for a little while, just long enough to make sure you have time to get to the trees. It's the safest and smartest thing to do."

  "It is not smart to have you risk yourself for my well being," Holli finally interrupted. "I'm an elf guard. What shall I say when I return to my camp without you? Shall I tell them the truth, that you did my job for me?"

  "Your job now is to protect the algors, not me. And to see to it that they reach your camp. Which of your options allows that?"

  "We can head for the river," Holli replied stubbornly.

  "Is it your training which tells you we should increase the risk in our mission, or is it your own pride?"

  Holli did not answer; she stared callously at the delver.

  "Get mad at me all you want," Ryson answered with feigned disgust. He did not wish to anger or insult Holli. He admired her too much for that. Her presence was a true asset, that could not be denied, but she now opposed what he believed was the most sensible solution to their problem. "I'm asking you to look at this from a cold and logical perspective. Forget it's me and you out here in the desert. Pretend it's only a hypothetical problem, a problem that your superiors might pose. You have a delver with you that is no longer critical to the mission. You must lead a party back to the camp in which only you know the way. What should you do?"

  "I can not answer that."

  "Why not? Because you know I'm right."

  Holli turned away for the first time. She threw both the empty shells and nuts to the ground in frustration.

  Ryson spoke calmly. "I trusted your abilities to protect me in the desert, now you have to trust in mine. I can lead the shag away, I can move faster and quicker than it can. You've seen what I can do. If you don't believe that, tell me now."

  "I believe you can outmaneuver the shag," Holli replied grudgingly. She quickly, however, added another fact she thought was also most relevant. "You have also never faced a mountain shag. It is not wise for me to leave you in such a situation."

  "I really don't think we have another choice. You're just going to have to trust me to be careful. I will do everything ..."

  "Very well," she cut him off. She continued to stare off into the distance, looking anywhere but at the delver. Her response was as cold as the deepest sea. The proposal annoyed her, perhaps even hurt or insulted her, but she could not win this argument. The delver accurately placed the importance of the mission squarely in front of her. The algors had to be led to Connel. If she left them, she would be failing in her duty. Her desire to be the one to face the shag was based more on her own pride than pure logic and duty. The delver had pointed that out clearly enough. Still, she could not easily forget her past duties to the delver or her training to be the one that faced danger before those she escorted. Mappel had entrusted her to protect him, but also to see the mission to its fruition. She faced no easy choice. In the end, she accepted duty over pride. "Explain your plan to the algors."

  The delver nearly questioned her if she was sure, disbelieving she would agree without more of a fight. He did not, however, say another word or press his luck. He moved to the algors with an explanation as quickly as possible and without giving Holli a chance to change her mind.

  The algors listened intently with tilted heads, but made no comments. As he finished his short instructions, they displayed total, as well as casual acceptance of the plan. They simply gathered their bags and waited for Holli to guide them.

  Before taking the lead, Holli moved to the delver. She removed the belt which held the Sword of Decree and held the sheathed weapon out to Ryson. "Take good care of this, bring it back with you to Connel and return it to Mappel."

  "I won't need that," Ryson protested.

  "I will not argue this," Holli stated bluntly. Her steely eyes accented her position. "This sword was entrusted to me so I might use it to protect you. That was made clear enough. You made a promise to Mappel, a vow that you would not part from the sword. You promised you would stay by my side so that the sword would be near you. You also vowed to remain watchful over the sword itself. If you wish me to leave you here, you must take the sword."

  Ryson saw in the elf's eyes that she would take no argument. If he did not take the sword, she would not leave his side.

  "Alright," he said reluctantly. "But I have no intention of using it."

  "I honestly hope you have no need to. I urge restraint and caution against this shag. I will be unable to assist in any fashion, for as you have clearly pointed out, it is now my duty to bring these algors to Connel. I will tell Mappel of what happened and explain that you have accepted the charge of carrying the sword."

  "If I'm going to take your sword, you should at least take the one I was carrying." He removed the belt which held the short sword he obtained from the captured goblin and handed it to her. "I'll try to reach Connel before you or at least not too long after," he said with a forced grin.

  "I shall hope for that as well. Good luck, Ryson Acumen."