Lief continued his explanation to the group as a whole. "There are but two tiers left which separate us from the sphere, the algors', and finally the elves'. Rather than stay within the confines of the tiers, we can use the breach as a more direct path."
"Do you mean by that you would not reveal what the elves have hidden in Sanctum?" Tun questioned severely.
"No. We will still have to deal with that obstacle, but not to the same degree. If we stay to the stone steps and original doors, we will have to transverse the entire elf tier. If we use the breach, we cut our time upon the tier and thus reduce our risk." He paused, but could not refrain from casting the slightest rejoinder upon the dwarf prince. "I will still have to reveal to you what the obstacle is, when I do, you will be happy to use any such short cut."
Tun fumed, but it was Ryson who stated the first reluctance. "If we use the tunnel, that will place you and Holli directly in the path of the magic. The last time that happened, you didn't do so well. It still contains poison to the elves, remember?"
"You do not have to remind me of that," Lief acknowledged. "I am aware of the danger, I can feel it even now, but I am also aware of the danger that waits below. Trust me, I will be safer in direct contact with the magic."
"I don't know," Ryson said as he shook his head. "We were only in the tunnel for a few moments and you had to find open air."
"That is because I was probing for the magic," Lief countered. "If you also remember, at that same time I was still in search of answers. I did not know where the sphere was and thus I opened myself to the energy. I will not do so again. I will admit that I can not keep the taint of poison from me completely, but I can guard against it. It is our best option."
"Well, what about the drop?" Ryson pointed to the hole in the floor. "We'll have to get down the same as before, by climbing and jumping. Won't it be safer to use the stairs?"
"Easier, but not safer," Lief noted. "In the elf tier, the sphere is located far from the steps. We would have to walk a great distance to reach it. The deterrent that waits is one that we would do best to shorten our path."
Ryson scratched his head. "Well, that's the elf tier. What about the tier below us, the algor tier?"
"It does not matter which entrance we use." It was the algors that responded. "We can control the danger."
Both algors pulled hand-carved wooden flutes from their packs. They held them up for all to see, as if they were as powerful as Ryson's sword.
Chapter 27
Before midnight, the storm outside Sanctum broke. The rain lessened, reduced from a constant drizzle to a flickering wave of showers and mist. It finally ceased all together, leaving behind soaked trees and small puddles within the rock of Sanctum's crust. The wind died down from northwestern gusts to a warm southerly breeze, and the clouds rolled clear to the east giving way to the shining multitude of stars.
Matthew marveled at the sight. The white hot specks filled the sky in a way he had never witnessed before. As the storm clouds passed away, the heavens seemed nearly painted solid with their fiery glow. Away from the lights and smoking chimneys of Connel, even the faintest of stars pierced their impression upon the jet black sky. The wet grass, pine needles, and leaves, mirrored the sparkle from above. To the reader's delight, the starlight, both original and reflected, chased away the dark gloom that had preceded their arrival.
Matthew stepped clear of the shelter in the trees that had kept him, Mappel and the eight remaining algors dry through the storm. He stepped into the open at the base of Sanctum. Away from the leafy coverage of the surrounding trees, he peered upward beyond the mountain’s peak to the heavens where the stars greeted him.
He thought of his faith, thought of the ten that sought the sphere. He prayed silently for the safety of those within the rock before him. He prayed for the success of the mission, prayed as he had prayed many times that evening, but that was during the gloom of the storm, when the clouds served as a partition between him and the heavens. Now, the skies were clear. The sparkling light that now surrounded him convinced him that these prayers would not be ignored.
With the end of the rain, the sounds of the forest multiplied. The patter of falling water drops continued as the trapped rain water began to drop from soaked tree leaves. The dripping rhythm was now accompanied by the music of insects, birds and animals that relinquished their shelters. The harmony of crickets foreshadowed the lyrical whistles of the night birds. Twittering raccoons and squeaking bats joined in the chorus. The stars above twinkled to the symphony as if content spectators during a late night concert.
The natural music was disturbed only by the din of mumbled voices and shuffling from the shelter behind him. Matthew knew Mappel was conferring with the algors, but he let them be. If his voice was needed, they would call for him. If not, better he take this time to appreciate the true glory of Godson.
He stood quietly appreciating the view of the stars hanging over Sanctum. To him, the heavens shined with greater glory over this bold rock, making the mountain less massive, less daunting. He smiled as he compared the vastness of the star covered sky against this now pitiful looking stone edifice. He recalled his feeling of dread when he first saw the mountain's gnarled rock sides looming through the forest. He remembered wondering how they might overcome such a monument, but the stars defied Sanctum's size. They hung high above it, filling the sky, filling space far more encompassing than that which was seized by this single mountain. They served as a reminder that man's triumphs, man's constructions, even the symbol of Sanctum as ageless as it was, could be easily matched and conquered by the true powers that shaped the land, the seas, and the heavens.
His moments of reflection were brought to an end by Mappel's approach from behind. He took one last glimpse of the view before turning to face the elder elf.
"What were you discussing?" he asked rather aloofly.
"I wish to start my climb," Mappel responded with an edge to his voice. His desires were as clear as the stars. He wished to reach Sanctum's summit as soon as possible. With the rain stopped and the stars producing sufficient light, he would wait no longer. "I hope you will accompany me. The algors wish to stay. They say they will tend to the horses. They don't believe they should be left alone in the night. They worry that goblins might strike and steal them or even kill them."
"That's good of them, and of course, I will accompany you," Matthew responded, but he turned to inspect Sanctum's unwelcoming visage. The wetness of its slopes was evident in its reflection of the starlight. "But should we not wait? We could rest and begin our climb at daybreak. It will be less dangerous for us both."
Mappel shook his head sternly. "I doubt either of us could sleep knowing what we know. Rest will do us no good. As for waiting for the sun, I am hopeful that it will not take that long for our friends to complete their quest. They reached the summit just beyond nightfall. Though I only know what waits for them in the elf tier, I can't imagine their journey would take the entire night. I truly believe if they are successful they will return before daybreak. I wish to be there to greet them when they emerge."
"What of the climb?" Matthew nodded to Sanctum. "The rock is wet from the rain. Can we make such an ascent with the ground revealed only by starlight?"
"I am willing to try," Mappel replied steadfast to his decision. "Holli stated she would leave ropes for us at the most treacherous parts."
"Very well," Matthew conceded. "I won't let you go alone. If one of us gets hurt the other will need to bring the algors for help."
"Then let us begin," Mappel eyed the closet mountain path. He took one committed step forward before Matthew requested he hold his unbridled eagerness to start the climb.
"At least, let me retrieve my pack," the reader pointed to the shelter. "I would like for us to at least have food and water up there, just in case our wait becomes longer than you anticipate."
Matthew retrieved his pack and wished luck to the algors that would guard the horses. He had to trot to c
atch up to Mappel, who would not wait even for a moment. The elf had stepped lively to Sanctum's base, all the while eyeing its flat peak. His desire to reach it pressed him with impatience, but the rocky slopes quickly devoured such zeal.
The two struggled to ascend Sanctum. Neither was truly fit nor able for such a climb. Neither had the algors claws, or a delver's ability, and neither had the strength of youth. Unlike the group of ten that preceded them, Matthew and Mappel moved slowly, clumsily up the mountain. With each step their breath became heavier and more labored. The wet rock increased the strain on their aching calf muscles as they both slipped numerous times. Even with Mappel's hard-edged resolution to reach the summit, they both requested breaks at several intervals.
Finally, joyously, they reached the end of the third rope and stood just below the ledge of Sanctum's flattened peak. A clear path rounded upward and over the last of rock that blocked their view of the top. Mappel struck upon the path with steady, but pained steps. The climb had taken much longer than he hoped, and he would delay no longer. He stepped clear of the last angle of slope and onto level ground. His labored breath, the trembling ache in his legs and palms, all vanished as there he found what he had hoped to see.
Glowing pale white, but dimmer than the stars, Mappel betook the view of a spirit, the form of an elf, the form of Shayed. The ghostly apparition did not face him, did not even appear aware of his approach. It faced a dark hole in the center of the peak's platform. Mappel called to the spirit's back.
"Shayed?" he called just above a whisper.
Ingar, still in masquerade, nearly turned with swift anger at the approach of an intruder, nearly turned with red glowing embers for eyes to smite the invader. His attention had been placed fully upon the ten within Sanctum. He knew their progress, knew they stood upon the middle tier. Mappel's call startled him.
In a split second of self-control, he caught himself in mid-turn, saving his charade. He forced the red glow from his eyes, and carried the true visage of the spirit he portrayed. He finished his turn slowly and cautiously, to face the newly arrived spectators of Mappel and Matthew with calm demeanor.
They were not unknown to him. He had seen them when they were with the ten, had seen them as the true Shayed had envisioned them in the basement at the Church of Godson. He recognized the elder elf who had taken the reigns of leadership during that time, and he felt the presence of Godson in the reader.
He so desired to scoff at them both, to laugh in their faces as he revealed his true identity. To smite them into gray ashes with a bolt of red lightning, but he kept his restraint. He continued the masquerade as he bid them welcome.
"It is good to see you weary travelers. I see you wait as I wait." His words were masked with kindness and sincerity, while what was left of his soul wished to pull their hearts from their bodies.
"It is an honor to meet you, Shayed." Mappel bowed. "I am Mappel and this is Matthew."
"You are both known to me. Those that have passed alerted me to your presence."
"We would have made the climb with the others but we were afraid we might slow their ascent. That fear would have proven correct. It was not an easy climb for us."
"Nothing is easy in these times." Ingar nearly lost himself. The charade was becoming amusing. It was beyond simplicity to fool these dolts, to engage in idle banter. He almost laughed out loud as he bubbled with these false trite sayings, but he continued with an even tone. "Even now the gravest of tasks becomes necessary to those within."
"You can sense what they do even now? Do you know of their progress?" Growing hope painted Mappel's words.
Ingar paused, considered how he should answer the question. It might bring him greater amusement to keep the senile elf in complete darkness. He decided, however, to reveal the truth, to raise the fool's hopes only to dash them in the end. How fulfilling it would be to watch all of their faces fill with agony when they finally realized the true purpose they served.
"They have successfully passed the dwarf tier as well as the human's. They have reached the delver's tier," the false Shayed revealed.
Both Matthew and Mappel reveled in the news. Smiles blanketed their mouths as the elf pressed for further information. "That is the tier which holds a mystery for them. How do they fare?"
"The delver obstacle has been overcome." Again, Ingar had to steady himself to keep from laughing in the face of these simpletons. How willingly they held to their false hopes.
"Have any of them suffered any injury?" Matthew asked trying to guard his optimism.
"They all remain unharmed," Ingar revealed, joyously fanning their enthusiasm.
Mappel turned to Matthew with great delight. "Do you hear reader? They are well and they have overcome the obstacle for which they held no answer. They need but pass only two tiers now, the algors' and the elf's. I believe we might yet succeed."
Those words ended Ingar's amusement. Contempt replaced it. He eyed the human and the elf with renewed disdain. He saw something beyond relief and joy in their faces. He saw confidence, a dangerous thing, a thing which bred courage. If these pathetic creatures believed they could overcome Sanctum, they might believe in anything.
At that moment, he considered a possible folly in his plans. What would happen when they exited Sanctum with the sphere in hand? They would surely give it to him upon his command, but what would occur next? He would be forced to reveal his intentions, his charade would be over. Undoubtedly, they would challenge him. Surely his power would increase while in contact with the sphere, but would it be enough? Confident in themselves and brought together by their victory over Sanctum, they might attempt to overcome him. Even with the sphere in his hands, he might he be defeated by their newfound courage.
Worse yet, what if they held to the sphere? What if they denied him the power that was rightfully his? Might they some how find a way to destroy the sphere before he was able to drink of its power? He doubted the plausibility of such a contingency, but as he probed the spirits of the ten within Sanctum, he sensed a growing boldness. Even now they plotted a way to reach the sphere which would reduce their own risk. Each success was bringing them closer together, and feeding their will to succeed.
He played out the image of their success in his deranged mind. They would exit free of Sanctum together. Without distraction, their focus would be placed squarely upon the sphere and their intention of destroying it. That would indeed be very dangerous to his plans.
Perhaps it was time to place a burden upon them, to let them know just how vulnerable their lives truly were. It was now his desire to let those within Sanctum taste defeat. He wished not to end their quest, but to shake their confidence, to give them a distraction that would break their thoughts from their ultimate goal.
He linked his own deranged thoughts to the awareness of the sphere, a strange coupling. The sphere's consciousness was incomplete, less than infantile, and his was demented. Together, their twisted and incomplete minds gave birth to a single deranged idea.
Chapter 28
Ryson stood uneasily below the dangling rope. His feet were now planted upon the fourth tier and he stood ready to assist the others that ventured to join him. He made every effort to keep his attention focused on those that climbed down to his waiting arms, but the unmoving sand giant to his left made that effort futile.
What seemed only moments ago, the sorceress Lauren had fully recovered from her fatigue and progress was to continue. To pass to the next level, the algor tier, they had decided to use the opening created by the sphere rather than the stone steps. Even though it meant another descent by rope, it stood as a direct path to the sphere itself. They all agreed, even Tun, that this was the fastest route, and therefore, the wisest decision.
Again, Ryson went first with Dzeb holding the rope. He had moved as a blur, forewarned by the algors as to what served as the obstacle. They assured him they had the power to protect the party, but only when they were safely upon the ground with both hands free. Danger exis
ted to the delver while he stood alone and while the algors climbed down the rope to join him.
Upon Ryson's plunge, the area below remained clear. The guardians of this tier waited elsewhere at that moment. It was thus Ryson moved with all of his speed and agility. He had located a section of ground within the algor tier that was strong enough to support them, away from yet another hole which led to the final resting place of the sphere. He had leapt the final distance and turned to bolster the descent of the algors that were so crucial to his safety. It was there he had ventured, and there where he now stood.
The algors had followed immediately after. They descended one right after another, climbing downward with the same harmonic movements that brought them out from their caves in the Lacobian desert. Each left arm moved then each right. The two shimmied downward in total unison.
It was when the algors still clung to the rope that Ryson had caught the first glimpse of movement. A stalking presence moving with more resolve than stealth approached from the broad open end of the tier. Crunching, thudding footsteps resounded through the algor tier, and announced the approach of a powerful threat.
The delver's acute hearing picked up two distinct marching footfalls. It was just as the algors had warned. Two giant guardians prowled this tier, one within sight, the other hidden; two sand giants created to protect the sanctuary of the sphere.
Ryson lacked the time to peer through the darkness to locate the second sentinel, but the first's presence could not be denied. It had moved full into the light of Ryson's sword, even as the algors were only half through their descent. It remained a safe distance for the moment, but it moved forward with casual persistence.
Ryson could not keep his eyes from the forward marching sand sentinel. It appeared much like Dzeb, not as tall, but large and powerful. A statue carved of sandstone brought to life an eon ago by the magic of the algors, it was solid and massive. Its movements defied the nature of its being. The rough sandstone formed every bit of its substance, from the outer most layer to its inner most core. Ryson could feel the vibration of its movements course through the floor. Under his breath, he had urged the algors to hurry. In ten paces, the giant would have been upon him.
Delver Magic Book I: Sanctum's Breach Page 47