"No, they will all be here, but this will not cause a re-unification. It's only temporary. It will not end the true separation. It will only serve as a reminder for the humans that other races exist. However this turns out, the races will again go their separate ways." Stephen noted the probing eyes of the elder elf. He continued with his explanation as clearly as possible. "I know what you're thinking. You're wondering if I know this, then why can't I see the conclusion of your plans. I told you before I don't know how this will end, and that's true. It's because for the first time in my life I see two possible outcomes. That has never happened before. Either the sphere will be destroyed or it shall remain intact to destroy everything in the land. But whichever happens, I know the races will again divide. They will either separate in fear of the sphere, or they will return to their previous lives."
"You see two possible outcomes?" Matthew asked with an expression close to agony.
"Yes, I do."
The reader dropped his forehead into his hand. His anxious fingers caressed his own temples as if attempting to press the disconcerting thoughts from his mind. "Then there is no set destiny here for us."
"It seems so."
Mappel began to uncharacteristically pace the room. Instead of standing still with his palms wrapped about his staff, he traversed the floor, poking the end of the staff against the wool rug as if to punctuate each silent thought. He grunted twice and mumbled something barely audible to the other two that watched him intently. With one last great thud of his staff upon the floor, he again stood still. He leaned upon his staff and addressed both men.
"There is no sense in us grieving over the interpreter's visions. We must take assurance in the fact that the possibility of destroying the sphere still exists. How this situation came about and what powers it might defy are no longer important to us. If our destinies are in our own hands, then so be it. I will remain hopeful that the forces which protect and enlighten us are still guiding our decisions. With that in mind I will turn to the most important question which must be posed to the interpreter. Do you know the secrets of Sanctum?"
Stephen spoke clearly and resolutely. "I know what the humans placed within their tier. I don't know of what the other races placed."
Mappel's eyes lit up like a bonfire. His voice actually cracked with expectancy "That is not important. The other races will be responsible for that. It is enough that you know the secret of the tier which belonged to the humans. That is what I hoped for."
"Well, then your hope has been answered."
Matthew spoke with a more guarded tone, but his excitement and interest were equally evident. "How did you come of this knowledge? I have never found anything in the book of Godson. Was it hidden behind the words?"
Stephen shook his head resolutely. "No, the secret was never placed in the book. It was too well guarded for that. The human followers of Godson wanted to spread the word, but they didn't want to spread the secret. When copies of the book were made, the secret of the tier was purposely left out. It was kept separate. It was kept on two pieces of parchment and held by only two. When one of the holders passes on, the other goes out to find another holder so there will always be two living humans with the secret. The two holders must remain separate but they must always be aware of the other's health and whereabouts. That's how the parchment continued to pass on through so many generations. That's also how its existence faded from the memory of the humans."
"You are a holder," Mappel stated as more of a fact than a question.
"Yes, I am."
Mappel tapped his finger gently against his staff. He stood silent for but a moment, both weighing his thoughts and the context of Stephen's words. When he spoke, his eyes locked upon the face of the interpreter.
"Will you reveal to me the secret of the human tier?"
Stephen answered the elder elf's gaze with an icy determined stare of his own. His position became as rigid and as solid as granite. His words were laced with strength. "I can not do that, at least not now."
Mappel showed no sign of distress or disappointment. He continued to bear down upon the interpreter, trying to press his own will upon him. "It is now that I need it. You know what we all face. Hiding this secret will not help any of us. It could lead to our death. It could doom the land itself."
"It could also doom the land if I reveal the secret at the wrong time. This is the wrong time," Stephen answered back, giving no quarter.
"And what will be the right time? When it is too late?"
Stephen again shook his head deliberately. "I have no intention of holding to this secret to such an extent."
The interpreter inspected the palms of his hands as he tried to further explain his position. "You may think I am stubbornly holding to information without any true cause, but that's not the case. I'll ask you to remember that what is written on the parchment is only one piece of the puzzle. Sanctum is comprised of five tiers and five secrets. What I know represents the secret of only one of those tiers." The interpreter looked towards Mappel. "I assume you have the secret kept by the elves. That is another piece of the puzzle. I'm not asking you to reveal that to me now. We have to wait, wait until the others are here. We have to agree how to handle this together and how to reveal the secret so that each race feels it has been dealt with fairly. Don't you think it might disturb the dwarves if they find out that we have shared information about Sanctum before they have arrived?"
Mappel nodded his head. "I doubt they would be happy, but there may be no need to tell them of what was discussed in this chamber. It may ..."
Stephen did not let him finish. "No need to tell them the truth? That's not a good way to start this thing out. It's better we tell everyone everything we know, and everything we intend to do. We need everyone's cooperation. I will hold to what I know, and you will hold to your secret. Otherwise we invite trouble before we even begin this thing."
It was Matthew who spoke up in as much defense of himself as for the interpreter. "It is as I feared, the one with the responsibility of the secret has much to consider. Perhaps, it will be a relief to us all when all the secrets of Sanctum are finally free."
"But they must be freed at the proper time," Stephen insisted. "I have seen, thus I know, that at least one representative of each race will convene in this church. Would that not be a better time to discuss what we all must face?"
"There is wisdom in what you say," Mappel conceded. "That, I can not deny, but I do not like waiting, and there is little else for us to do."
"Not necessarily," Stephen said with a renewed twinkle in his eyes. The relaxed and comforting smile returned to his lips as he again settled back into his chair. "I can explain the revelations in detail as I have seen them regarding what we must do, what I have seen happening and what I know is to come. With your knowledge of elflore we might put together a plan before we know all the secrets."
"More wisdom," Mappel nodded appreciatively.
"Thank you," Stephen responded graciously. "I also have a question for you, which I already believe I know the answer. You haven't found anyone from the delver race who might know their secret, have you?"
Mappel spoke with a grunt of dissatisfaction. Of all the tiers, he believed the human tier would be the most difficult to disclose. It was beyond him to believe that the human secret would be so close at hand, while another would remain more elusive. "No, I haven't. I sent word to the dwarves to send one with the knowledge of Sanctum. I gave Ryson Acumen the same message to bring to the algors. But Ryson himself could give me no insight as to who to inquire about the secret of the delver's tier."
"Then we have a problem to deal with as well. I don't know where to find that answer, either. In fact, I wouldn't be surprised if the secret was lost. I hate to say things like that, but we have to face the possibility. Where the humans had the church of Godson to maintain the legends, the delvers had no church. In my dealings with them, I know they are aware of the legends but they don't have any structured following t
hat I know of. Their race became splintered and eventually absorbed by the humans. It is difficult enough these days to find a pure bred delver. This may mean their piece of the puzzle is lost."
"If that is true, we may face a losing battle," Mappel said wearily. "I had not truly thought of the delver's tier until now. I had spoken briefly to Ryson of it. He had hoped that Matthew might know of where to look."
Both Stephen and Mappel turned a hopeful gaze toward the reader, but Matthew's expression curtailed any further enthusiasm.
"I didn't even know the human's secret of the tiers," he admitted with a sour grimace. "How should I be expected to know of what the delvers put in Sanctum?"
"Maybe Ryson thought you would know of someone in Connel who might know?" Stephen posed.
"He would know better than I. All I can suggest is asking other delvers. They mostly spend time at the Night Watch Inn. But what am I supposed to do? Just go up to total strangers, ask them if they are delvers and then ask them if they know of the secrets in Sanctum Mountain? I don't think that would be wise."
"No, it would not," Mappel allowed. "But it is also unwise to ignore the issue. As Stephen has stated, Sanctum is a puzzle of five pieces. We gain little if we obtain only four."
"I wouldn't go that far," Stephen said optimistically. "If we manage to agree on a way to reveal four of the secrets, that in itself is an accomplishment."
"Small accomplishments will mean little if they do not lead to ultimate victory," Mappel reminded the youthful interpreter as if to warn him of the price of failure. "This is not something in which we can accept limited success. We succeed fully, or we perish."
"Maybe the best thing to do is wait until Ryson returns," Matthew advised. "He would know the other delvers here in Connel. He would be the best to approach them."
"That's as good a plan as any," Stephen chimed.
"It delays things," Mappel replied sternly, "But I realize we have little other choice. For now I would like to hear the details of your visions. I want to know what you see in both of the alternative outcomes. There might indeed be something I might sense which will lead us in the right direction."
Stephen crossed his hands in his lap and looked to Mappel with a true willingness to express his revelations. His voice, however, turned somber and near hollow despair rung from his words.
"I will tell you everything my mind has seen of both. I hope you can determine what to do because I can tell you the scene I see if we fail is a terrible and frightening thing to witness. We will all die slowly, withering away as the sphere turns our land into a sea of dust."
Chapter 14
Evan Chase, seasoned tracker, walked abruptly into Mayor Consprite's office. He did not knock and no aide announced his arrival. The door swung open in total silence, without a click of the latch, without a squeal of the knob, and without a creak of the hinge. He stepped in like a hunting cat, and closed the door as quietly as it opened.
His eyes darted around the room but for a moment. In those passing seconds, he analyzed, interpreted, and judged every item within the confines of those walls. Nothing within his sight escaped his attention. He was aware of potential hazards as well as all sharp edged or heavy items which were in reach of the mayor. He also made spatial observations. He knew how far it was from the front of Consprite's desk to the door, he noted the paths around furniture, and he observed that the window was locked.
He moved up to the mayor's desk, stepping so lightly he barely disturbed the dust which came beneath the soles of his moccasins. His clothes moved with him as he stepped. He wore no coat or cloak. Animal hides formed his shirt and pants. They did not rustle or crease, but instead remained as silent as his own steps.
The mayor was aware of Chase's presence, only because he was waiting impatiently for him, waiting and watching his door. If his attention had been upon papers on his desk, Chase could have poked him on the forehead before he even knew the tracker was in the room.
Chase acknowledged the mayor's gaze, but his eyes would not lock upon Consprite's stare. The tracker shifted his eyes about wearily. He seemed more concerned with the movement and placement of the mayor's hands than his expression.
The tracker's own countenance was uncaring and shadowed by his own indifference toward appearances. His face was shaven roughly. Spots of stubble remained upon his chin and scattered about his throat - shaving with a hunting knife no matter how sharp and without a mirror is bound to lead to a less than perfect job. The shaggy mop of black hair on his head curled about in an unruly, unkempt mess. It covered both of his ears, including the one which was missing a huge chunk from a fight with a wolf.
The wolf won that battle, forced Evan to run up a tree. His thigh still ached when it rained from a savage bite received during that same encounter. He stayed away from wolves and dogs ever since.
Chase minced no words as he stopped in front of the mayor's desk. "What do ya want?"
The mayor scratched the tip of his nose before addressing the tracker. He also decided to be blunt and to the point. "I need someone tracked and followed. I want to know where he's been over the past two days and I want to know everything he does after you locate him."
"Who?" The word came quick from the tracker's mouth as if he spit out the question. It was quiet evident that Evan Chase wasted little time, and knew too few words to waste any of those.
Consprite grimaced. He did not like being questioned with such bluntness, but he was well aware of his situation. As mayor, he had little that Chase wanted, and nothing he needed. He could not threaten the tracker with ordinances, or the restriction of permits and licenses. Chase probably used such papers to wipe his nose or light his smokes. The mayor was not dealing with a merchant, or a homeowner, he was dealing with an uncivilized barbarian that cared not at all for politics and power. Only gold enticed trackers, and thus the mayor replied sourly to the blunt question. "Ryson Acumen, he's a delver."
"I know who he is," Chase spoke as if insulted.
The mayor continued, undaunted by the tracker's lack of grace and tact. "Good, then you'll know him when you find him. He left here several days ago to check out the damage to other towns from the quake."
"An old trail," Evan stated quickly, making it clear he considered such a thing more difficult and expected to be compensated for such.
Such a response was not lost on the mayor. It indicated the tracker was willing. If not, he would have simply turned and walked out the door, perhaps spitting on the floor, or on the mayor himself before leaving.
"I can help you with that to a degree," the mayor responded in fashion realizing the negotiations for the fee had commenced. "I have reports from him as to where he went and who he spoke to for the first part of his trip. I don't need you to look into that. He was in Pinesway less than four days ago. It's where he went after that I want you to look into. I can also give you leads into that. He was following the trail of the tremor. He also spent some time in the Dark Spruce Forest."
Chase grimaced at the thought. Dark Spruce had little of anything that interested him and a lot of what didn't, especially wolves. The job was becoming less enticing by the moment. Again, he responded shortly.
"Dark Spruce is tough terrain. Nothing but trees clumped together."
"Very few trails as well," the mayor countered. "It's a good bet if you find any markings, it will be our delver. Not many people have a desire to go through there. You won't have to sort through multiple trails."
"Don't tell me how to do my job." The tracker sneered and for the first time his expression revealed a hint of true inner feelings. He had an obvious dislike for delvers, and had no mind to hide it. "I know about forests and I know about delvers, which brings me to another point. Ryson Acumen is full bred. If he wants to, he can lose me at any time. I can't explain it; it's just something about those full breeds. When they have a mind for it, they don't leave a trace."
"He won't know you're tracking him. That is, if you're careful."
"I'll ignore that," Chase responded. "The fact of the matter is he's still a delver, and that makes things harder."
The mayor waved his hand indifferently. "Fine, it makes it harder, but it's what you do. Now do you want the job?"
If the tracker took time to consider the proposal, it was surely not long. Within mere moments, he responded firmly, a tone that made it clear he had no intention of haggling. "I'll take the job, but I want forty pieces of gold right now. Another ten when I get back, thirty if I come across somethin' I don't like."
The demand caught the mayor off guard. He expected the tracker to begin bargaining at half that amount. "That's absurd! He's only a delver. I've told you where he's headed and where he's been!"
Evan Chase stood firm. He did, however, understand his price was exorbitant. He made a simple explanation as to the height of his fee. "It's not what I'm tracking that's botherin' me, it's the other things that might be out there."
"What are you talking about?" the mayor eyed him suspiciously. He wondered if the tracker might know of the elves that accompanied Reader Matthew into his office that morning. If he did, he would have Kendal's throat slit. The assistant was the only other person that knew of the meeting.
Evan, however, made no reference to the elves, but he made it clear he knew something was very different about Connel.
"I'm talking about what's been going on around here for the past few days," the tracker said with a knowing expression. "And don't make it seem like ya don't know what I'm talking about. I've seen ya traipsing out to places ya don't normally go. You've been out to farms, and to the river. Ya normally don't do that, which means ya know something. I don't know exactly what it is, but something ain't right. Which reminds me of another part of my fee, I want to look over the reports on your desk right now."
"You can't see those!" Consprite objected strenuously. "That's official business. It has nothing to do with you."
Delver Magic Book I: Sanctum's Breach Page 22