Delver Magic Book I: Sanctum's Breach

by Jeff Inlo

  Chapter 21

  "It is good to see you safe, Ryson Acumen." Mappel extended a hand. As the delver responded in kind, the elder elf allowed a small smile to grasp his lips. They stood alone in Matthew's private chambers. A host of others waited in the basement meeting room, but Mappel requested they speak alone before the delver was brought before them. It was the elder elf's wish to explain the occurrences of the past few days, but he began by asking the delver about his own journey.

  "When Holli brought the algors here, she told me what had happened in the hills. Mountain shags." He sighed lightly. "I can not believe that only a short while ago even I doubted Lief Woodson's word when he warned us of the danger in the air. Now we face so many things, so many uncertainties, including mountain shags. But by your appearance now, I can assume that all went well?"

  "I handled the shag alright, but I can't say my trip back wasn't without its problems." Ryson's expression bordered on exasperation. "Things are starting to fall apart out there, and fast."

  Mappel waited for the delver to continue with an expectant, yet curious expression.

  "It seems vampires are now loose in the land and goblins are making raids on towns," Ryson explained with heavy emotion. He coughed after he spoke as if the words left a bad taste in his mouth. "I don't know how this will affect any of the plans you've made, but I can tell you the people and guards in Burbon are near total panic. I would expect the same in Pinesway. They're closer to the forest. I don't know how the people in Connel have reacted to your presence here, but I doubt you would be welcome in either of the other two towns. They're edgy about anything that looks even slightly out of place. Trust is stretched to a limit. I apologize for how this will sound, but if they saw you for what you are, they'd lock you up as a threat, or worse."

  "I understand." Mappel's attention momentarily fixed upon the staff in his hands. He stared at the fine grooves as if each represented another factor of the present dilemma, another external force trying to exert its own influence upon them all. "The land is in turmoil and it seems most humans with it. It is probably no surprise to any elf that the humans would treat us with the utmost mistrust. Their ignorance of the past has led them to their own confusion. While it would not justify such actions, it would not be unexpected. I would have to agree that revealing ourselves in such places would remain inappropriate at this time. Thankfully, however, our path does not end in Burbon or Pinesway. It will lead us from Connel to Sanctum."

  "How have you fared here?" Ryson asked with a raised eyebrow.

  "The magic has been slow to reveal itself here," Mappel offered with a look of relief. "What has happened has been kept quiet. Connel's own location has also helped serve to this end. With other border towns closer to the wilderness, there are more inviting targets. I imagine that the dark creatures have also not forgotten Connel's history. The ancient wall would remind them of their greatest loss. I doubt any goblin party would hasten to raid this town."

  The delver found such theories less encouraging. "Even if there hasn't been a raid here, I know word is spreading. Soon, people are going to start hearing stories. Everyone's going to start looking for an answer. When I came in to town this morning, I saw everyone looking over their shoulders. I also saw guards on horseback at the town limits."

  "I can not deny the truth in your words," Mappel conceded, "but for now we remain hidden, even the algors were brought to us without raising a single suspicion. Our presence here has been kept a secret, helped oddly enough by Mayor Consprite. He does not know of the dwarves’ presence, but he knows of mine and the algors. Those guards were his men, and they helped escort the algors here, keeping it as quiet as possible."

  "Consprite did that?" Surprise and suspicion edged Ryson's words and the tone was not lost upon Mappel.

  "I am perplexed by the man myself. He has kept his distance, yet has made it clear he wishes to be involved. His men did as promised, yet they appeared more elusive than helpful. Through Matthew, we have been sending him information, telling him only of what he needs to know. I doubt it satisfies him, but he appears content, at least for now. I do not trust him. Am I misjudging him?"

  "I doubt it," Ryson responded in earnest. "I've only spoken with him a few times, but I never met anyone who was more ambitious. If he wishes to be involved, it's probably because he believes he can benefit."

  "Of that, I am certain, but we will all benefit if our mission is successful."

  Ryson shook his head with a near sorrowful expression, as if it pained him to discuss the subject of human greed and overabundant ambition. "That's not want I mean. The mayor won't see anything advantageous in a general gain for the land. Consprite will want to gain personally. It's not beyond him to take advantage of another's misfortune."

  "Then, my initial judgment has been correct. I can not dismiss the perceptions of a delver, especially upon a subject I know so little about. The mayor will be dealt with only as needed and always warily."

  "Good idea," Ryson nodded.

  Mappel moved on with urgency, as if it pleased him to leave behind discussions of Mayor Consprite. "What about the vampires you spoke of?"

  Ryson hesitated. The thought burned his mind like acid. He tasted the bitter anger on the tip of his tongue.

  "It's not a pleasant story," he finally admitted. He told the sequence quickly and briefly, speaking in short pointed sentences. He gave an adequate account to be accurate but refused to recount anything with great detail. He spoke of the most important specifics, being followed by Evan Chase, Chase's demise, and the final conflict with the vampire herself.

  The mention of Evan Chase and his reasons for following the delver cast the discussion back upon the mayor. Mappel displayed more than a hint of annoyance. "So Consprite sent out a tracker to find what you had been doing. I do not like that. It indicates he may not accept our decisions. I should like to treat him with as much care as we would treat another vampire."

  "That reminds me," Ryson interrupted and his attention descended to his belt where the Sword of Decree hung sheathed. "It's time for me to return this now. To tell you the truth, it's the main reason why I came back to Connel. Had it not been for the sword, I might have stayed at Burbon to help protect them against goblin raids. But I knew it was important to you, so I knew I had to return it. I've learned how special it is, and I understand why you made me promise to look after it with such care. I wish you would have told me of its other powers, though. It does more than burn an enemy; it can free your mind. That in itself saved me from the vampire. I can't explain it, but I knew what to do as soon as I grabbed the handle."

  The statement confused Mappel. He sifted through the words as if a puzzle, or a mystery where the perpetrator was known but not the crime.

  "You are certain?" Mappel questioned with a wrinkled forehead.

  "Absolutely." Ryson returned Mappel's questioning looks with a confused demeanor of his own. "Didn't you know that?"

  "No, I did not," Mappel said firmly. "Such power is not supposed to be. Could it have come from something else, something other than the sword?"

  "I don't think so." Ryson fought through the ugly images of his encounter with the vampire to establish his certainty. "No, it came from the sword. I know it now and I knew it then. Do you want to try holding the handle?" He went to dislodge the scabbard from his belt.

  "No, I can see the truth in your eyes," Mappel answered.

  Ryson continued unfastening his belt. "Well, its time for you to take it back anyway. It has been quite an honor, but it belongs to you."

  Mappel made a statement which could do no less than shock the delver. "Not anymore. Leave it at your side, Ryson Acumen. I do not know why the sword is now blessed with a new power, but it was blessed in your hands and there it must stay."

  Wide-eyed, Ryson refused. "I can't accept this."

  "If you deny it, you are denying providence. None of us are in a position to do that."

  "But this is a
magical item that belongs to the elves. You've guarded it for so long."

  "Yet it never earned its name in our hands. Now it has. If it will now reveal mysteries to you by some act of benevolence, then the Sword of Decree will belong to you."

  "What if it’s just the effect of the tainted magic in the air?"

  Mappel shook his head. "According to Holli, she used the sword against a monster at the edges of the Lacobian desert. She claimed no powers of any kind. And you yourself just stated with certainty that the power came from the sword. No, Ryson Acumen, the blessing has occurred in your hands and we are in need of all the blessings we can get. You must hold onto the sword."

  Ryson stood silent. Not knowing what else to do, and not wishing to insult the elf, he finally accepted the gift. "Thank you. I'll try to wear it with honor."

  "You already have," Mappel said sincerely. "Now, however, we must come to more difficult matters. With your assistance, we have achieved a great stride toward our goal. In the basement of this church, in a town as time-honored as Connel, we have gathered representatives of the dwarves, the algors, as well as the humans and elves. I am pleased that this gathering has taken place so quickly. Never could I have imagined that the races involved in the tiers of Sanctum would be together in one place during my lifetime. Yet, it has happened, and it is now. There are, however, two problems."

  Ryson listened intently as the elf continued with an explanation.

  "The first is that you are the only delver in our presence. You have already admitted to a lack of knowledge over what the delvers placed in Sanctum to guard the sphere. Every other key is now within our grasp. Even the human element is here. Stephen Clarin is the interpreter of the Book of Godson. Matthew told me he spoke of the interpreter to you?"

  Ryson nodded. "Yes. Yes, he did. That's why he was so worried about the quake. This interpreter was able to foresee many things, but he didn't predict the quake. He's here? Now? What can he tell us about what's going on?"

  Mappel shook his head sadly. "Precious little I'm afraid. It seems he believes the sphere defies even the prophecies. He can not predict the outcome of this event, although he has experienced a vision which yet brings us hope." Mappel quickly yet thoroughly explained the visions as witnessed by the interpreter. He emphasized Ryson's involvement in entering Sanctum, hoping to make it clear that the delver was expected to be part of the force.

  Ryson exhaled deeply but did not decline. "It seems I can't get away from this. Truthfully, I was hoping to become more of an observer after I helped bring back the algors. I never hoped to be included any further."

  Ryson's thoughts returned to Burbon and Linda. He would have liked to return there, to help them all. He remembered his promise to go back and tell her of what was truly happening, but as he did, he recalled everything she said. It became a blueprint in his mind. She asked him to return when he discovered everything he needed to know, even if it took a season. He faced the true crux of his dilemma with that simple edict ringing through his head. Would he be satisfied if he walked away now? Could he truly turn away from the opportunity to enter Sanctum? Every instinct that was his, every natural desire demanded he follow this to its end. He spoke with that conclusion.

  "I can't tell you it makes me happy, but as a delver I can't refuse the opportunity to explore a monument such as Sanctum. If you invite me to go along, I will have to accept."

  "It is more than invitation, it is an urgent need. We need you, and in all honesty, we have need of the Sword of Decree. I might have been hasty to offer it to you as a gift, but I see now in your eyes it was no mistake. Without it, we would not pass through the tribulations of Sanctum, and without you, we would not fulfill the vision of the interpreter."

  "Then I will accompany you," Ryson responded, accepting his fate.

  "It is good you feel that way. We will need you then, and we still have need of you now. This returns us to the first problem. Assuming we convince those that are present to reveal the secrets of what lies ahead in Sanctum, we will still be missing one part of the puzzle. No one present knows the delver's portion of the secret. Stephen Clarin is aware of what the humans placed within the mountain, but he has no idea of what the delvers placed. No one does. I am hoping that you might direct us in that matter."

  Mappel looked to the delver expectantly, but Ryson could only shake his head.

  "I just don't know," he admitted. "I don't even know where to begin. I was told of the importance of Sanctum as a kid, I was also told to avoid it. As far as I know, no one knows what's in there. It's kind of strange. You would think that Sanctum with all its secrets would be a place which would really call to a delver. But it hasn't, until now. It was one of the only places that delvers accept must not be explored."

  Mappel spoke as if his hopes were quickly draining from him. "There is no one else you might know that we may ask?"

  "We could go to the Night Watch Inn," Ryson offered. "There are other delvers in Connel. One of them might know, or at least might know where to go to find out."

  "But you wouldn't know which is the best suited to ask?"

  "I've spoken to almost all those with delver blood that spend time in Connel. None stand out as someone that might know what we need."

  Mappel frowned. "I do not covet the idea of indiscriminately speaking to delvers at the Night Watch Inn, plodding about carelessly, hoping to stumble on information. We have done so well for ourselves so far. We have worked for the answers and they have come to us, some miraculously. I can not accept that we were meant to sift through the land for this secret as if searching for a single ant in a mountainous anthill. There must be another answer."

  "Well, there's none that I can think of."

  Mappel stood leaning upon his long staff. His eyes focused on nothing in particular. Long drawn out silence hung in the room like a giant tapestry. He became as still as a statue. If not for the slow relaxed breaths or the blinking of an eye, Ryson would have thought him carved of stone and painted to appear life-like.

  Ryson arched his neck and examined the wooden rafters of the ceiling. He waited patiently as Mappel continued his pose of reflection.

  Finally, the elder elf broke his silent concentration with a weary shake of his head. "I do not like this, not being able to decide what to do. Just as our other problem, there is no conceivable solution. I am left groping for options that do not seem to exist. Why are we brought so close, yet left without a final answer?"

  "What is this other problem you're talking about?"

  Mappel sighed heavily with frustration. The topic was a weight on his shoulders that he would have liked nothing more than to cut free. "It is the dwarves, mainly Tun. He is a prince, son of Folarok. He is here with his brother, Jon. He is not convinced the sphere must be destroyed."

  "Does he know what Shayed said to me and Lief?"

  "He knows. He does not doubt the exchange occurred, and he does not truly question Shayed's wisdom. Unfortunately, he wishes to explore other opportunities."

  "Even though Shayed said we had to destroy the sphere?"

  "You must remember that the dwarves are not fond of the thought of magic. They believe it never truly benefited them. Tun Folarok echoes that belief in my ear at almost every chance. He has been told that both he and his brother are part of the interpreter's vision. It did little to convince him. In fact, it may have made things more difficult. He now states that if something such as the will of Godson will lead us, then the will of Godson will bring him the light of understanding. While he sits and listens, he only responds that nothing miraculous has yet occurred to sway his position. If he is waiting for some kind of miracle, I don't know if we will ever convince him.

  "His brother, Jon, is more reasonable, more rational, yet he is cautious. He wishes to remain loyal to his brother as well as avoid his anger, thus he will not speak out against him. If it were just him, I am certain we could move forward, for he also knows the secret of Sanctum."

>   "Then why do we need his brother?" Ryson questioned. "We can leave Tun to wait for his miracle if we can convince Jon to help us."

  Mappel's voice was thick with dissent. "They have been sent together by the king, and so together they will listen to our requests. Tun is the elder and has the right of the throne. Jon would never consider opposing his brother. Unfortunately, it is Tun who we must convince, yet he gives us little opportunity."

  Mappel looked over his staff as he pieced the problem together. Hoping he himself might find an answer previously overlooked, he outlined the difficulty with a precise tongue. "The problem has been complicated further by Stephen's vision. Stephen sees both Folarok princes entering Sanctum. This is what truly creates the misfortune of our situation. I use it to explain that Tun must assist us. Tun uses it to accent his doubts. We traipse around in circles. I can not ignore the vision. Because of this, I am certain Tun must be made to see the reason of what we must do, but I do not know how to convince him. I keep hoping he will see what must be done on his own accord, but he shows no sign. He waits for divine intervention, so I wait as well. But I do not know how much longer I can wait. All I know is that Stephen believes they are both integral to our plans, and therefore we can not ignore them."

  "Is Stephen certain about this vision?"

  "He is. I am as well. For some reason, I now have great conviction in the visions of the interpreter. It was something to behold, the calm serenity, the sense of joy on his face when he revealed to us greater details of his vision. It is hard not to have faith when one witnesses such a thing. As I said, he believes you have a major role to play yet in this challenge. I believe it would have saddened all our hearts if you declined. It will sadden us as much if Tun can not be convinced. I am hopeful that we will match Stephen's vision exactly when we send our force into Sanctum.

  "Lief Woodson and Holli Brances will represent the elves for this endeavor. This meets with the interpreter's approval, who will go himself. He has also ventured forward and brought another into our fold. A human woman named Lauren. In his vision, the group numbers ten, and he insists she must be one of them. That leaves but three yet to be decided. I believe, as does Stephen, that at least two will be algors. The algors have agreed to the overall plan. None of their group has spoken against it. In fact, they speak as one voice."

  "Tell me about it," Ryson replied with knowing exasperation. "It's kind of unnerving to hear them speak together. It's worse, though, when they disagree. They all speak at the same time; they don't listen to each other. They just start yelling out what they think."

  "Luckily, I have not yet witnessed such turmoil," Mappel stated with thankfulness in his words. "Overall, it has been quite easy to convince them of the need for their assistance. The only matter which concerns me is that I don't know which two should be part of the ten, and they don't seem prepared to make any choice to that end.

  "Finally, there is the last spot, the tenth member of the party. Whoever it shall be, it remains a mystery. Stephen can not clearly decipher the image."

  "Maybe it's another delver," Ryson offered. "There's two of everybody else; two humans, two dwarves, two elves, and two algors. Maybe the tenth will be a delver that will answer the mystery to that tier."

  Mappel shrugged wearily. "Perhaps, and perhaps not. Stephen is at a loss to describe the tenth. We can only wait for answers and time now weighs upon us. I was hoping your return would end that wait."

  "I don't know what to tell you."

  "No one does." Mappel waved his hand.

  Ryson considered much of what had been said. Questions popped into his mind over the new arrival. "What do you know of this Lauren?"

  "She apparently has great natural ability to control the magic which is now free. She is quiet and I do not know how to judge her. Stephen, however, states she is as much a part of our struggle as any other. He also states her abilities will be needed when the human tier is to be overcome."

  "She's a sorceress?" Ryson could not contain his surprise.

  "Apparently so."

  "Really? I would have never guessed that any human would have practiced such a thing."

  "You misunderstand. She has not been able to practice the art because the magic had been contained until now. She does, however, have natural abilities and tendencies that allow her to manipulate the energy with greater control than other humans. It is just like the other races, except for maybe the dwarves. There are always some more attuned to magic than others. Some say it is inherited, some say it is random. They will hear the whisper of spells in the air. Instinctively, they sense how to draw in the power, manipulate it. With time, they will learn how to control the power and it will be up to them how they use it. According to Stephen, Lauren has mastered much in the past few days, although it still worries me that our fates may rest in the hands of a novice magic caster."

  "It doesn't sound like we have any choice or that we should have any concern either," Ryson offered, hoping to rejuvenate the elf's apparently dwindling confidence. "If the interpreter says we need her and that she can help us, that in itself is important. After all, this man's apparently blessed. And if she's part of that vision you witnessed him having, that's only more reason to believe in her."

  Mappel did find relief as well as comfort in the delver's words. "It is a privilege to be near you," he stated with great sincerity. "You have a way of inspiration about you."

  Ryson looked to the ground humbly.

  "I am glad we took the time to have this talk," Mappel continued. "But it is now time to present you to the others."

  Without another word, Mappel turned as he motioned for Ryson to follow. He stepped with the weariness of his age, but with the determination of his strong will. His staff clicked loudly against the stone steps that led them down into the cellar meeting room. The echoing thumps announced their entrance to all who waited below—human, elf, dwarf and algor—all of which grew silent as the two forms moved beyond the last step and into the heart of the chamber.

  Ryson's eyes adjusted instantly to the lesser light of the basement. He nearly laughed in disbelief at the odd assortment of individuals. Such an array of oddities would have sent him reeling headlong into utter confusion had he not been through so much. Now, such a sight brought more accepting humor than gasps of disbelief.

  The ten algors huddled together in one corner. Their large bulging eyes focused on him in tandem. They nodded together as if choreographed, their heads moving at exactly the same angle and speed. They appeared quite content.

  Such was not the case for two broad shouldered, bearded males who sat separated from the others. One with coal black hair maintained an air of aloofness as well as defiance. His back remained straight, although his feet barely touched the ground from the bench where he sat. He kept his eyes locked on the delver, but stared without making any sort of acknowledgment. The other, with slightly graying hair, sat with a slight slouch. He remained observant of his surroundings, but by his positioning it was clear he was less antagonistic to the cause than the other.

  Ryson noted Holli Brances and Lief Woodson in the center of the room. He nodded to both. They sat with three humans. He immediately recognized Matthew, but the other two were strangers.

  The female had to be Lauren. He had a difficult time assessing her age. Her face appeared youthful, but fresh lines of bewildered worry aged her complexion. Her hands were knotted before her as she clasped them with constant tension. Her clothes were fine enough to indicate she had come from a family of limited success, perhaps she was the elder daughter of a merchant, or perhaps the young wife.

  The other was a young man who watched with a broad smile. Radiance glistened from his face, almost enough so that it appeared brighter than the light from the small candles. Ryson could not keep his eyebrows from shooting upward into a questioning expression. There was no other human about, besides the woman and Matthew. He did not have a true expectation of the interpreter, but he was not pre
pared for such youth.

  He looked about, wondering if there might be another answer, maybe this youth was only an aide of the interpreter, but there was no place for another to hide in this room. If the interpreter was before him, it had to be this person. His assumption was confirmed upon the introductions handled by Mappel.

  "I knew you as soon as I saw you." Stephen smiled happily upon their introduction. "You are of great importance to us all."

  Ryson tried to shake the surprise from his face. He offered his hand to the youth. "Thank you, but it seems to me you're even more important. It's an honor to meet someone blessed by Godson."

  Stephen could not refrain from casting a glance to Ryson's side where the sword hung proudly. He smiled wider but said nothing on the subject. Instead, he turned to the woman beside him.

  "This is Lauren. She prefers that I don't use her last name."

  Lauren held out her hand, but returned it to its knotted fold after quickly and gently shaking the hand of the delver. She tried to keep her eyes focused on that which was around her. It was an obvious struggle for her to keep attention upon the matters discussed in the church cellar.

  Ryson saw turmoil in this woman, the same turmoil he experienced as a youthful delver discovering his own unique abilities, but he was not afforded the opportunity to converse of such matters, for Mappel quickly guided him to the dwarf princes.

  "This is the one I've told you about ..."

  Mappel's words were cut off by a great commotion upstairs. There were only a few followers of Godson in the church at the time, but it sounded as if there were dozens. Shouts of surprise were heard from both the street and the upper chambers. The heavy thud of a door being thrown open and hitting a far wall rang through the cellar. The patter of running feet spread over their heads as if the followers were scattering in every direction at once.

  Silent confusion overtook those gathered. All eyes were pointed upwards, although in different directions. All the algors spied the same spot over their heads. The dwarves scanned the entire ceiling, trying to follow each noise. Holli Brances looked only briefly toward the top of the staircase before she became the first to react, immediately followed by Lief.

  Holli leapt over a table with balanced grace. She cocked an arrow in her bow as she took a position behind the table closest to the stairwell. If anyone was to get to the others, it was clear they would have to get through her first.

  Lief bolted to a strategic stance in a corner opposite Holli's position, creating an angled crossfire. Anyone entering the room from the stairs would now face a hail of arrows from both directions. The two stood silent, emotion cleansed from their faces.

  Ryson moved up to Holli's side. His hands were steady as he drew one hand near to the handle of his sword. The other he placed in his bag and quickly recovered his dagger. He kept it in his left as his right remained free, ready to unsheathe the Sword of Decree at a moment's notice.

  At the back of the room, each algor calmly removed a sling from their respective pouches as well as finely rounded stones. They did not immediately load their weapons, instead they waited and watched patiently.

  The dwarves stood from their bench, rather unceremoniously. A human bench was not designed for their stature, and they struggled to be free from it. In a display of displeasure, Tun kicked the bench over in order to step back to clearer ground. Holli and Lief paid no attention to the crash of the wooden bench, but everyone else jumped with a start. Tun made no sign of apology. Instead, he freed the great maul from his belt and stood ready with an angry stare.

  Jon also stepped toward an open area, but his mace remained attached to his belt. His hand was at his side ready to free it for use, but for now, he watched with cautious eyes.

  Matthew and Stephen remained at Lauren's side. Her eyes were closed. She mumbled something to herself and then spoke aloud.

  "No, it's alright. Don't be alarmed."

  Most turned their attention to her, even as the door to the cellar stairs whisked open, but Lief, Holli and Ryson kept their focus on the first visible step. They were the first to see the huge gray foot which broke the plane of the doorway. It dropped down and landed upon the top step with a dull thud. Immediately, a second foot of equally mammoth size moved into the light of the cellar lamps and fell upon the next step down.

  Ryson's eyes grew as wide as their sockets as he witnessed ankles and shins roughly the size of tree trunks. Step by step, more of the visitor became revealed to all those that watched in awe. It barely fit through the arch of the staircase. Had the clearing for the steps been the span of a hand narrower, the passage would not have allowed entry. Even now, the mammoth visitor was forced to bend and twist to pass through the tight fit. When the newcomer finally moved beyond the last step and fully into the basement chamber, he continued to slouch so as not to scrape the top of his head upon the ceiling.

  Ryson's mouth hung open ever so slightly. He blinked once, then again, but the sight remained before him. When having to describe the cliff behemoth to others in the future, he would simply ask the listener to imagine what a giant boulder would look like if it grew arms, legs and a head. Put a green and brown tunic over it, and you would have what Ryson now witnessed.

  The skin of this giant looked as rough as sand paper and as hard as rock. The head, held lofty in the air upon a short powerful neck, was round but flat on the top. Deep rounded sockets held innocent blue eyes. A deep short slit under a round pudgy nose formed the mouth. There was no hair anywhere to be seen. None of its muscle structure appeared under the thick hide, and thus, it appeared as one solid, rather inflexible mass as opposed to a composition of bone, muscle and skin.

  Both Lief and Holli lowered their bows as the giant stood motionless before them. Ryson's dagger dangled in his hand, but astonishment precluded any decision of using it.

  Lauren spoke first. "He means us no harm." Her voice held a certainty as if this was a common fact.

  "Of course he doesn't," Mappel echoed in a voice filled with relief. His eyes, however, darted back and forth from the cliff behemoth to the ceiling overhead. His expression revealed his misgiving over what was occurring beyond the basement chamber. Voices of panic still cried out both in the church as well as in the streets beyond the door.

  "I am afraid my entrance has upset many, but the will of Godson is clear. Nothing must stand in the way." The cliff behemoth's voice carried as if a feather blown by the wind. It was soft and gentle, but it flowed to the furthest corners of the room. Its soft melody was a stark contrast to the newcomer's physical appearance.

  Mappel's eyes fixed upon the cliff behemoth. He now ignored the clamor over his head. Stephen Clarin also looked on in increased interest, but it was the elf that asked the question that burned both their minds.

  "Why has Godson's will brought you here?"

  The behemoth spoke in the same soft tone. "It is our task to deal with the sphere. It is the will of Godson."

  Stephen Clarin stood and he blurted out his own revelation with both excitement and amazement. "You are the last of the group! It is all clear to me now! You are the tenth!"

  The interpreter's outburst ripped Mappel's attention from the cliff behemoth. The elder elf took a hand from his staff and rubbed his forehead in weary confusion.

  "This is all happening much too fast," he admitted.

  "No, it's true," Stephen insisted. "I could not see him because I could not understand what I saw. I thought it was a shape that still had not taken form. But it had! And it was that form!"

  "I do not understand everything he says, but most is very clear and I do know the will of Godson," the cliff behemoth spoke to all in the room. "I am to accompany you to the mountain you call Sanctum. There we must deal with the sphere and end the threat to all Godson's followers."

  Matthew moved from his place and stepped forward to meet the giant. "I am Matthew. I am the reader for this church, it is a Church of Godson. I do my best to follow the ways
. I have read about cliff behemoths, how they devote their lives to the word and the ways. It is an honor to meet you."

  "I am indeed a cliff behemoth. My name is Dzeb. And it is a pleasure to meet a human who has not forgotten the word."

  Matthew could not help but smile broadly. The appearance of a cliff behemoth did as much to strengthen his faith as all the revelations of the interpreter. "Thank you, thank you. All of the followers of this church do their best to remain faithful, though we would never boast of matching the faith of your kind."

  Dzeb nodded in appreciation of the benevolent words, but this friendly meeting was quickly interrupted by Mappel who appeared to regain his composure.

  "Come forward Dzeb. It is true what you say. We are preparing to deal with the sphere, but there is much I need to ask you. Much that may help us on our way."

  Dzeb walked further into the room as Lief, Holli, and Ryson followed behind. A bench would not hold his weight so he continued to stand, although in a hunched position. Everyone else in the room now also stood in respect for the cliff behemoth's difficulties.

  "There is little to discuss," Dzeb said with the same comforting voice. There was no hostility in these words, no sense of defiance or challenge. He spoke as if everyone was already in agreement. "The angels of Godson have brought the message, a message received by all cliff behemoths. I knew of your presence here before I entered this building. I am to accompany you to Sanctum where we must deal with the sphere. It is very simple. This man knows that." He nodded to Stephen Clarin. He then turned to another. "This one knows as well, although the knowledge is not yet clear to him. It will come as time passes."

  "You mean me?" Ryson could not control his surprise.

  "Yes. You are the delver?"

  "Yes, but ..."

  Dzeb did not let Ryson finish. "Give yourself time delver. You will understand much in the time to come. What is your name?"

  "Ryson Acumen."

  Mappel took the opportunity to introduce all to the cliff behemoth. When he was finished, he pressed for greater details of the giant's knowledge of the sphere.

  "I do not wish to insult you, Dzeb," Mappel spoke guardedly, "but I must know why the cliff behemoths feel they must participate in this matter. You must tell me more than it is Godson's will."

  "Should that not be enough?" Dzeb questioned.

  "To your people it would undoubtedly be enough. To many in this room, it would be enough as well. But there are those that see things differently than the cliff behemoth. You must at least acknowledge that."

  "Yes, that is true." Sadness did not show on the giant's face, but it was now evident in his voice. "It seems as time moves on, more move away from the word and the way."

  Mappel quickly took the reins of the conversation as he endeavored to direct it toward gaining the knowledge he so direly needed. "I do not wish to dishearten you and by no means do I question your intentions. The help of a cliff behemoth is a benefit I would have never dared hope, but cliff behemoths were not present during the Wizard War. Your kind was not concerned with the sphere during its entombment. Why now?"

  "The sphere has changed," Dzeb answered simply. "The Wizard War was a conflict of individuals, those that wanted the magic free and those that wanted the magic removed from the land. Such matters are not the concern of Godson, thus they are not the concern of cliff behemoths."

  "But what of the taint?" Mappel persisted. "The taint was a threat to all."

  "True, but the war was not about the poison in the air. Had it been, we might have joined. At first, the battle was about stopping Ingar. We watched closely at that point. The outcome would impact the land, but Ingar was defeated. After that, it became a battle over what to do with the sphere, individuals arguing over what should be done, arguing over a choice. We kept our distance."

  "We argue over that now," Mappel said with an edge, and he glanced over his shoulder at Tun. "We are trying to decide what to do about the sphere and this threat."

  "Has this one not told you what must be done?" Dzeb pointed to Stephen, his large finger cut the air like a giant spear.

  "He has, but others still need to be convinced."

  Dzeb merely shook his head as he dropped the accusing finger.

  "Tell me what you believe is going on with the sphere now?" Mappel urged. "That may be what some need to hear in order to convince them of what we must do."

  "It is challenging the will of Godson." For the first time Dzeb's words sounded almost harsh, but they soon returned to the soft tone which was their norm. "This can not be allowed."

  "It is true then," Stephen blurted out with a half gasp. "How can this be possible?"

  "All living things have the freedom of choice," Dzeb announced kindly. "That too is the will of Godson and perhaps the most important ingredient of life in this land. We all choose what path to follow, whether it is in the light of Godson or in the dark paths. The sphere has become conscious, and therefore it has the ability to choose. Usually the choice of one has little impact on the land. In rare cases, a choice of an individual can affect thousands of creatures. In this case, considering the power of the sphere, its choice affects us all."

  "Then the sphere is alive?" Matthew asked, nearly dumbfounded by the possibility.

  "I would say no." Dzeb spoke almost cautiously now. "It is my belief that only Godson can grant life. Awareness and consciousness is another matter. Dark forces have been known to grant such powers, but they can not create a soul. I know this is very confusing, but it is the best I can do to explain. It is told that such things will be made clear to us when we all finally meet Godson. The important matter is that the sphere is now conscious and aware of its surroundings. It wishes to destroy the land. For what reason, I do not know. It is our honor to stop this. I will accompany those you send to Sanctum and we shall deal with the sphere."

  Mappel still struggled for greater detail from the cliff behemoth. "You keep saying that, but I don't understand what you mean. How do we deal with the sphere?"

  "It must be destroyed."

  Tun quickly raised a challenging voice. Even though Dzeb stood much more than twice his height, the dwarf looked at the giant with unrelenting defiance. "Of that I have still not been convinced."

  Dzeb calmly eyed the antagonistic Tun for but a moment. "Now I understand." He slowly turned his head toward Ryson. "Give him your sword," the giant requested. "Let him hold the handle with the blade free of its sheath."

  Ryson shrugged, but did not hesitate in obeying. He carefully guided the sword from its scabbard. As more of the blade became revealed, it glistened with greater brilliance. It soon magnified the candlelight surrounding it. Tun and Jon squinted only for a moment, but even their dwarf eyes soon grew accustomed to the silvery illumination. Ryson carefully gripped the blade at its center and extended the handle toward Tun.

  At first, the dwarf remained frozen in place, his arms folded across his chest. Finally, he extended one hand and took hold of the handle. As he did, the gleaming light of the blade appeared mirrored in his face. The defiant expression softened, and he looked about the room as if seeing all for the first time.

  "We must destroy the sphere," he said calmly.

  Jon looked at his brother with both confusion and concern. "Are you sure, Tun?"

  Tun released his grip on the handle as he let Ryson take hold of the blade once more. As the delver sheathed the sword, Tun's understanding remained.

  "We have no choice. If we do not, we will all be destroyed."

  "And what of the magic?" the younger dwarf pressed.

  "We must learn to live with it. We have no choice."

  "Then we also have the miracle we have been looking for," Mappel announced with renewed hope and excitement.

  "Do not confuse miracles with enlightenment," Dzeb counseled. "We have been but shown the way. There is much yet to be done."

  "Then let us be started," Mappel replied quickly. "Let us take advant
age of what has happened here. Let us remember this moment as we set out to accomplish what we must do."

  Heads nodded and turned about from one to another. Murmurs of conversation broke from nearly every direction. The chatter brimmed with hope as yet another difficulty was overcome by the apparent means of providence.

  It was Ryson who called for attention and brought the focus of the meeting back upon those difficulties which yet remained.

  "I don't mean to bring everyone down, but let's not forget what we still have to do. We still have to enter Sanctum. There are still the mysteries of the tiers, and there is still one we don't know. There is no one here that knows what the delvers placed in the mountain. It may take time to uncover that secret."

  "I am afraid, young delver, that will not be possible," Dzeb said kindly yet firmly. "While the angels which spoke said it would be the decision of those here as to who would go, they made it clear when we must go. We must leave for Sanctum today, before the sun passes overhead."

  The hush held. Sanctum now! No further delay. It was like a death sentence.

  Mappel broke the silence with a steady voice. "Listen all of you. We have been led through these most important times so far and have accomplished much. We have done so without the help of ancient prophecies. In every case, we have accepted the circumstances dictated to us. We must continue to do so, and we must do so without hesitancy. If those that enter Sanctum must face a tier without knowing of the danger, we must hope that some way, some how, they will overcome the obstacle as other obstacles have been overcome. It will be enough to reveal those secrets we do know. We have four of the five parts. Let us tell them now. I will begin and state what the elves have ..."

  Stephen Clarin cut him off abruptly. His voice was full of force.

  "No!" The sharp, near angry retort caught the elder elf unprepared, but Stephen continued to speak with forceful determination. "This isn't the time! I have told you before that we will know when the time has come. The only way it would make sense to reveal them now would be if they could all be revealed together. We are missing the one secret for a reason. The secrets should remain just that. They should only be revealed in Sanctum, to those who face the danger."

  "That is an unnecessary risk," Mappel argued.

  "But it is a risk we must take. You have put faith in my visions. If that is to remain, you must accept everything I see. We can't pick and choose. We can not say I accept this, but not that. I know that it would be a grave mistake to announce the secrets now. If we leave on this day, we leave without revealing what we know. Otherwise, you might as well refute everything I've told you. There is only one way we can proceed at this point. Everyone that must enter Sanctum must know their portion and must be prepared. I know what the humans have placed in Sanctum. I will keep that knowledge to myself. When the ten, of which I am included, face the human tier, I will direct them as to how to proceed. The same will remain true for the dwarves, the algors, and the elves."

  "I agree," Tun replied sharply. "I will feel safer if I do not know of these secrets until absolutely necessary."

  Mappel could not accept the arrangement. If something had happened to the party of ten, there would be no way to regain the information. If the secrets were brought into Sanctum, they could be easily lost, perhaps forever. How much time would be forfeited in finding the other human with the proper knowledge, or finding algors willing for another siege upon the legendary monument? He spoke of such fears to press his point.

  "And what if a mishap falls upon one of the party and the secret becomes buried in an untimely death. I loath to speak of such things, but you are entering Sanctum. If something should happen to you, Stephen Clarin, how would we continue our struggle? The risk is high. We must do whatever is necessary to reduce the risk. Remember, you yourself can not foretell the success or failure of this mission. Should you fail, the rest of us will still strive to destroy the sphere. If we speak of the secrets now, openly, we allow for hope in such a case."

  The interpreter made no indication of backing away from his proposal. It was part of his vision, and thus part of the word of Godson. "If such a thing may happen, and Godson willing it won't, we will face the unknown tier as we will face the delver tier, prepared for the worst but determined to overcome what might await."

  "He is right," Lauren added as she looked toward the staircase with renewed distress. "There are other considerations as well. This is no longer the place to discuss such secrets. There are now ears above us, waiting for answers." Her anguish grew, her alarm more evident than ever. Her mouth hung open, ever so slightly. She stared beyond the ceiling, beyond the walls of the church. She saw into the streets. Her own vision, magical sight, spread like a falcon taking wing. After moments of silent staring, she blinked repetitively. Her voice wavered as she stood with near consuming trepidation. "There is also danger growing outside. We must decide quickly!"

  The algors finally spoke up, and as was their norm, the ten spoke in unison.

  "We agree with the interpreter. We will hold our secret, but there is one more thing to be determined. In order to match the vision of the interpreter, there is only to be two of us which must go. The rest will stay here. The delver will choose which will go and which will stay."

  "Again?" Ryson heaved a heavy sigh. "You can't keep asking me to make these decisions. Let Stephen decide which of you best match his vision."

  "I can not distinguish between them," the interpreter said sadly. "I only know that two should go. I don't know which two. Which of them knows what is hidden in Sanctum?"

  "We all know," the algors responded in chorus.

  Suddenly the algors began speaking separately, one after another, sometimes at the same time.

  "We are a community of individuals, but none knows more than another."

  "You can not ask us to pick among ourselves."

  "We all wish to go."

  "We all understand if we have to stay."

  "There is none of here which will assume to make such a decision."

  "If you say that only two may go, then you must tell us which two."

  "The delver has picked wisely before, let him pick again."

  The cacophony of opinions continued until Lauren made a distressed plea. "We don't have time for this. I feel as if these walls might soon become our prison."

  "Very well, very well," Mappel urged. "Ryson make your choice. Do not dwell upon it and do not torture yourself. Simply choose and let us be off."

  Ryson closed his eyes as his body became filled with tension. "I don't like this," he mumbled to himself. "I have no idea of knowing." With shoulders slouched, he opened his eyes and pointed to two, hoping to be as random as possible.

  "It is done," Mappel stated as if punctuating the selection. "I do not believe, however, the remaining algors should stay here. If danger is closing as Lauren sees it, we must all leave together. Those algors not chosen may remain with myself and Matthew outside Sanctum as the others make their journey into its midst, unless of course there is an objection."

  At first Mappel looked toward Tun, wondering how he would respond to the accompaniment of algors that would far outnumber any other race. He said nothing, his face still softened from his experience with the Sword of Decree.

  He looked next to the algors. They also remained silent.

  "Please let us go!" Lauren cried, near begging.

  "Get the algors their cloaks," Mappel instructed both Lief and Holli. "It is mid-morning with many around. I dislike leaving at such a time. We must at least make an attempt to avoid attention."

  Holli and Lief moved with swiftness.

  The dwarves kept coats by their sides and gathered them around their shoulders. If they kept their hoods up and hid their beards, they would appear as nothing more than powerful youths, not yet done growing.

  "What about Dzeb?" Ryson asked. "How are we going to hide him?"

  "You can't hide him," Lauren stated, still bese
eching the others to move quickly. "Many saw him enter the town. They know he's here. That's what brought so much attention on us in the first place."

  "Then I will leave as I entered," Dzeb said firmly.

  "I don't know if that's a good idea," Matthew stated with a hint of sadness. "Many humans will hate you simply based on how you look. With what is going on in the land, they might attack based on nothing more."

  "I will trust in Godson to protect me."

  "We couldn't hide him if we wanted to," Mappel said with finality. "His height and size would make any attempt foolish."

  Lief and Holli had returned and the algors were quickly fastening their cloaks. The party gathered together near the stairs, but Mappel stopped them for one last moment.

  "Alone we face uncertainty, but together you can overcome the mysteries of Sanctum and the threat that burdens the land. Forget now of what you don't know, and bring to mind that what you do. I ask of each of you that will enter Sanctum to consider what you know of what lies ahead and if you have the means to deal with it. Keeping our secrets does not mean denying the ability of the party to overcome the obstacles. I will tell you now that although what awaits you in the elf tier will not be easily passed, it can be done with what you now possess. What of the rest of you?"

  Tun answered first. "The dwarf tier is first. My brother and I are prepared with the proper knowledge. If those that follow us will follow our instructions, we will succeed in getting through the first tier."

  "The human tier is next," Stephen followed. "Lauren is the key to our success there."

  "And what of the algors?" Mappel looked to the entire group, but only the two selected responded.

  "We shall pass," they said together, with greater confidence than either the dwarves or Stephen.

  "Then there is nothing left to do but go forward."