Delver Magic Book I: Sanctum's Breach

by Jeff Ianniello

  "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 Branches 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 stair 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 men 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 prepared 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 maintain 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 abiliti
es, 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 but 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 in 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 grey 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 huge 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 ha
ve 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 reigns 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?"