Delver Magic Book I: Sanctum's Breach

by Jeff Ianniello

  "Maybe it doesn't and maybe it does. I still want to see 'em." He could have snatched them up without Consprite's permission, but he wanted the mayor to hand them over.

  The mayor fought desperately to find a way to deny the request. Thoughts of these reports spreading across Connel corrupted his thinking. He could only imagine the public outcry for his head if the town found out what he had been hiding. He fished for a way out. "Do you think you'll find out why I want the delver followed by reading these? I can tell you that you won't. If you want to know that ..."

  Chase interrupted the mayor's declarations forcibly. "I don't care about your reasons for having this delver followed, but I do care about the things I might run into out there. I know something's goin' on around here. I've seen tracks I can't identify. I've heard things in the night that don't belong to any animal in these parts. Ya can keep your reasons to yourself, but I want to know what's happening around here. It's a safe bet that if it's happening here, it's happening out there in them woods."

  The mayor grunted. He sat silent, contemplating other options, but Chase quickly took them away.

  "If you're thinking about finding another tracker, ya might as well forget it right now. Any tracker worth his salt is going to want the same thing I want. I've been talking to some of the others already. We know ya have an idea of what's out there. You can tell me or you can tell someone else. The only tracker that'll go out there without reading your blamed reports isn't gonna to come back. He'll take his up front money and leave."

  Consprite snarled. "Fine." He picked up a clump of papers and held them out to Chase. He had no alternative. He figured the tracker would probably find out for himself sooner or later. His only hope was to bind the tracker to secrecy. "Here, read all you like, but keep this to yourself. That's also part of the agreement."

  Chase concentrated upon the papers in his hand. His lips moved sporadically as he read. Reading words never helped him as much as reading the ground, so he never gave it much practice. He knew barely enough to understand the new reality of things, and now that he did, he cast a sideways glance at the mayor.

  "This stuff for real?"

  "Of course it's for real. I saw most of it myself."

  Chase grimaced. "I don't like it. Corpses walking around and monsters comin' out of the water. I don't like it at all."

  The mayor held his hands up in exasperation. "Do you think I do?"

  "No, I suppose you don't," Chase grunted. "What about the money?"

  The mayor had already conceded to showing the tracker the reports, he would not concede entirely as to the rest of the fee. "I'll pay you thirty now and fifteen when you get back, whether you like what you find or not. That's more than this job is worth and you know it."

  Again, the tracker showed little sign of truly considering the agreement, and his acceptance came nearly instantly. "It ain't worth my own skin, but I'll take it. It'll give me a chance to find out what's really goin' on."

  "Good." The mayor's voice turned cold as he gave his final instructions. "Now I don't want you sending any reports to me. I want you to keep everything to yourself. You come back when you know what the delver is up to and when you're sure you know where he's been. Don't take too long either. If you think the delver is just surveying the land, then forget him and come back here. You're also to report only to me. Is that clear?"

  "Uh huh," Evan muttered as he gave one last glance to the papers before throwing them back down on the mayor's desk.

  Chapter 15

  "What do you think it is?" Holli asked as her head swerved about on her arched neck. She did not like standing at the foot of this desert canyon wall. There was too much to focus on at once, too many places where attackers could hide. Small openings in the sandstone dotted the high rising edifice. A well placed archer could easily pick them both off without either of them knowing from where the fatal arrows had been launched. Thick ledges blocked her vision. Even now, warriors might be squatting low behind boulders, using small cracks and crevices to keep a watchful eye for an opportunity to ambush.

  The threat of danger washed her fatigue away with the strength of a waterfall. The ache in her legs vanished, and she forgot her dry, sore throat which had become parched from breathing the dry desert air. Her vision became sharp as she surveyed all that stood before her.

  Holli made no secret of her discomfort over approaching the sandstone mountain, but the delver had persisted and brought them to within arms reach of its very base. Her hand gripped the hilt of the Sword of Decree. A glistening light appeared just above the sheath for she had pulled the sword slightly from its cover, revealing a sliver of the blade.

  Ryson, at first, paid her no mind. His body remained still. His head bent backward to allow him an upward glance at the face of the canyon wall. Rather than turning his head, he simply moved his eyes, from one small opening to another. He pulled his spyscope one last time from his pouch. He scanned several different openings and grunted in satisfaction. After pocketing the scope, he finally answered the elf's question.

  "I believe it's a meeting place for them of some sort. It may also be a type of village for them to live, but I doubt any of them live here for long periods of time. From what I've seen and what Mappel told me, they spend almost the same amount of time alone as they do together."

  "Are they in there now?" Holli demanded with a tone which made it clear she wished to know exactly what dangers they faced.

  Ryson turned to her for the first time since they arrived at the foot of the wall, and he saw her hand upon the hilt of the sword. Her threatening stance alarmed him nearly to the point of anger. "Yes, they're there and don't even think about pulling that thing out. In fact, I want you to take your hand away from it right now."

  Holli scowled at the delver. "It's my job to protect you." She spoke as if it were a rule never meant to be broken.

  "It's also your job to see that my mission succeeds," Ryson shot back. "That means I have to meet with these algors. You're going to make that impossible if you continue to maintain that threatening position."

  Holli's glare darted from the sandstone mountain to the face of the delver. "It is not a threatening position. It's a position of defense."

  Ryson shook his head. "I don't care what it is. I want you to stop."

  "You would have me leave us vulnerable?" Holli posed the question with as much disbelief as annoyance.

  "I will have you let me complete what we were set out to do," Ryson stated abruptly. He bit his lip before continuing. With a heavy breath, he cleared his growing irritation. He renewed his request with a note of greater understanding, but with no less conviction. "Look, I know you're only doing this to keep me safe, but we can't have that right now. The algors are here, and they know we're here. They're not going to see us if they think you're going to lop their heads off."

  Holli did not argue further. She removed her gaze from the delver and again returned to surveying the many openings in the cliffs. Her hand moved slowly away from the sword handle. It became a taught fist as it dropped to her side.

  Ryson began pacing about the desert floor as he inspected the lower level of the sandstone wall. He knelt down at a few places and rubbed his hand against the rough, porous rock.

  Holli virtually ignored him, and for the first time since their trip began, she allowed him to move about without following close behind. She kept a steady breath and a watchful eye, but she knew in her current position she was defenseless, an easy target for a myriad of attacks. She accepted the role with the same stubborn determination which moved her full speed through the desert. If she was to be sacrificed for the success of her mission, that was merely the distinction of her duty.

  Ryson continued examining the rock wall. He would stand and brush the sand from his knees, only to take a few steps and kneel again. "I don't think they built this thing themselves," he muttered. "I think the wind and perhaps a long extinct river shaped it originally, but they sure made enough adaptations. I would
n't be surprised if those openings led to a completely intertwined tunnel system, except for maybe a few of the lower ones. They're decoys. I doubt they go anywhere accept to dead ends. But they're definitely traps for possible invaders." He pointed to three openings which were closest to the ground, only three or four body lengths above the desert floor. "You see those three? If we went into any of those we wouldn't come out. They're all set to collapse. I guess the algors figured if invaders tried to climb up, they would investigate the first openings they came across. If they did, they'd never get a chance to climb any higher. Not that climbing it would be easy, not without the right tools anyway. Although, it looks like they've made some false facings that seem sturdy, but probably wouldn't hold any weight."

  Ryson again stood erect and brushed his knees, then his hands. Loose grains of sand showered back to the ground before he walked placidly back to Holli's side.

  "I don't think climbing is an option," Ryson said as he shook his head. "No, it's a safer bet if we stay here and wait for them to come out. That'll probably also let them feel better about us. We won't be forcing ourselves on them. I suggest we simply make camp here and hope they come out to see us."

  Holli scanned the area. Overall, the plan held merit. The towering sandstone wall provided shade from the afternoon sun. It appeared the desert vegetation also approved of the cooler, albeit shadier ground. Groups of cacti and brush arose from the sand with greater numbers along this section of desert. Ryson had previously proven his skill in finding pockets of underground water, and she believed he would have no difficulty here. The canyon side also would prove to grant protection from hot southwesterly winds. In the refuge of the sandstone, the sand was not as dry and loose as in the open desert. It did not burn to the touch or grate with the same abrasiveness as the sand they just recently walked across. Indeed, this area held many advantages for a camp site, yet she looked to the openings far overhead with a weary eye.

  "I do not like making a camp so close to this wall," she said firmly. "We are almost inviting an ambush. They could attack us at anytime from anywhere."

  Ryson arched his neck as he directed his gaze across the face of the rock canyon. "That's very true, and I'm sure that bothers you. I just don't think we have any choice."

  "There are always choices."

  "That's also true, but none of the other choices will give us as much of a chance to convince the algors that we're here to see them and that we're not just a couple of lunatics out for a stroll in the desert."

  "They may think that no matter what we do. And if that is the case, it may be more reason for us to consider our security."

  "Let me ask you this, have you heard of the algors attacking any one of your people?" He paused to allow her to answer, but she remained silent. He continued, explaining his own difficulties of what they faced. "You see, I really don't know what to expect. I have no experience with algors. I'm basing all of my decisions on what Mappel has told me and from what I see in the desert."

  "I have no experience with the algors, either," Holli admitted frankly. "The race avoids all contact with others. The elves have no cause to venture into the desert and the algors apparently care little for the forests. I can't say that I have ever heard of the algors attacking an elf, but I have also never heard of an elf seeking them out in their desert home."

  "So you think it’s wiser to keep a safe distance from them?"

  Holli simply nodded.

  Ryson crossed his hands in front of him. He tapped his thumbs together methodically, in rhythm with his thoughts. Algors; a race akin to the lizards, forming communities, yet living solitude lifestyles in the vast reaches of the desert. He knew so little about them. Mappel said they spoke in the same language. That in itself was difficult to imagine, large upright lizards holding a conversation. The image was laughable.

  Yet, was that not the point of his mission? As absurd as it seemed, his main goal was to meet and talk with the algors, to convince them of the danger to the land and all of its inhabitants. Here he was, already in the desert, already following the thin veneer of signs that led him to this canyon.

  In the end, he returned to the very things which brought him to this place. He turned to his inner most feelings. He hoped his own deepest instincts would guide him to a decision, just as they guided him through the desert. If he expected to meet with the algors to explain the breach in Sanctum and the threat of the sphere, he would have to gain their trust. With that thought, he gained the answer to his question. They would wait here in the open, wait for the algors to acknowledge them. How could he expect them to trust him, if he did not trust them first?

  He made his decision known to Holli by yelling out to the canyon wall and the many openings within it.

  "Algors! My name is Ryson Acumen. I'm a delver. I am with Holli Brances, an elf. We are here to speak with you."

  His words echoed only slightly overhead against the cliff face. After that, the hot desert air swept them away. No other sound graced the area until Ryson continued.

  "All the races must speak together! The Sphere of Ingar is free from Sanctum! We can tell you what we know, but we must meet with you."

  He lowered his head, and his voice, as he turned his attention to Holli. "Let's make camp here. We have to show them that we trust them. I really don't think they'll attack us anyway. They'll either come down, or they'll ignore us. We'll just have to wait and see."

  "We will not have to wait at all," Holli stated abruptly. Her face was expressionless, the demeanor of an elf guard facing the unknown. Her eyes narrowed as they scanned the entirety of the canyon wall. While she fought off her own instincts to pull her sword, she nodded to Ryson to look back.

  Ryson caught his breath as he turned. In all of his experiences over the past few days, nothing could prepare him for this bizarre spectacle. Meeting an elf was one thing, this sight yanked at his grip on sanity. Even seeing the ghost of Shayed could not compare to what he now witnessed.

  Like a legion of ants flowing from their anthill, countless algors erupted from the openings which abounded across the sandstone. Within mere moments, nearly every cave entrance spat out algors. An endless flow of yellowish green flowed down the canyon wall toward them. They climbed downward with casual ease, each algor moving in concert with the next, so as every apparent space of the cliff face was covered.

  At first it was difficult for the delver to center his attention upon a single algor. Their coordinated movements kept Ryson scanning the growing flock as a single entity. Like a shifting, diving, turning school of fish, the moving multitude attracted attention from every angle and direction. Not one algor moved in opposition, not one algor stalled or paused. Step by step, foothold by foothold, lines of algors moved as if directed by a single consciousness. It was like watching a parade of well trained soldiers, soldiers that spent years together so that every movement was in precise order.

  The delver and the elf marveled at the whole spectacle. Never had either witnessed such a display. Even the elf guard could not boast of such precise coordination of movement. It seemed impossible, as if the desert had finally taken control of their minds. It was not until the algors began their final approach towards them, that they were able to break free from the hold of the group movement.

  As the first wave of algors reached the desert floor and stepped toward him, Ryson gasped out the breath he had held. He inspected their physical characteristics with as much wonder as he watched their movements. An upright toad, as tall as he was, was the only way he could describe them. Large black eyes bulged near the top of every head. Two holes formed nostrils at the end of the rounded snouts that jutted forward. The mouth opening crested wide, far back to the round greenish brown cheeks. Not much of a forehead existed, merely a space above and between the two eyes. The top of their heads curved slightly before dropping down to a wide neck. Small purple bumps took the place of hair.

  As for their bodies, the algors wore no cloak to hide their scaly chest which was m
ore yellow than green. Long thin arms hung nimbly from somewhat droopy shoulders. Long narrow legs, which appeared quite flexible, held the light weight of the algor easily. Claws tipped the thin fingers and toes and webbing filled the spaces between each. Just as the legends described, there was no sign of a tail.

  More and more of the algors filed down the sandstone mountain and encircled the two messengers. They left a small space around Ryson and Holli as they formed an unbroken circle all the way around, but they left little room for themselves. They clumped themselves together in a growing, continuous ring, hardly leaving enough room to breathe. Arms appeared interlocked as they stood hip to hip and shoulder to shoulder. The chests of those that stood behind the inner ring pressed flat against the backs of those in front of them, and so it was for each ring which spread back from the inner point of Ryson and Holli.

  It was all the elf could do to remain calm, to stand as if oblivious to the swarming presence. She bit back urge after urge to draw her sword and maintain a defensive position. It was not so much the sight of the algors which disturbed her, it was the simple fact that they were now completely surrounded. Not a single path existed for their escape. She tried to steady herself, and maintain a casual appearance as if the circling horde did not incite her. She hoped to maintain a single perspective as if to declare that she cared little for what was happening around her. All such attempts, however, were futile. Her head continued to shift from side to side as she kept a constant gauge on the space between them and each and every algor. She could not break from her training any more than she could stop breathing.

  Ryson dealt with the circling mass with even less success. Such proximity to such foreign creatures stirred strange feelings. In his lifetime, he spent many a day seeking new and exotic places. It was part of his nature, part of his calling. He found nothing more exciting than coming across an unknown valley in the mountains or a secret cove on a deserted shore line. He thrilled at the first sight of large and small animals, anything that was new to him and the more foreign, the more bizarre, and the greater the thrill.