by Jeff Inlo
Enin frowned.
"No, and this is the second time I have missed such subtleties. My apprentice—my guard—noted the remnants of a powerful spell that was meant to raise a legendary figure. I missed it completely. Now, I am missing this."
"Maybe it's because you cast the spell... created the portal."
"That only has me more puzzled. It is my spell. My connection to it should give me greater awareness over its properties." It was Enin's turn to gaze off into the direction of the rift. The more he considered the dilemma, the more it confounded him. "This is most perplexing. I understand the instability of the original spell. Heteera lacked control to keep her portal in existence, but the second portal is of my own casting. There should be no such deficiencies."
Jure did not wish to dispute the wizard, but he remained certain of the anomaly.
"I wish I could explain it better, but it really is like I said. There's magic flowing through the portal, that's for certain, but it's... constantly interrupted. That's the best way I can put it."
They were both silent for long moments as each contemplated the situation. It was Jure who began to put the pieces together, but he needed confirmation of certain facts.
"Am I correct to assume you opened a new portal as opposed to reopening Heteera's?"
"Yes, the old one had been closed," Enin revealed, "but I mirrored Heteera's spell in order to have it open to the exact spot in the dark realm. I needed to follow the trail of magic."
"So you sensed the characteristics of the initial portal and utilized them to create a new one?"
"Yes."
"And you cast it in the same spot?"
Enin nodded, but failed to see the significance.
Jure scratched the top of his head and his fingers ran through the slightly graying hairs. He began to see a solution that would solve the question of the interrupted magic as well as to Enin's inability to sense it.
"Maybe the first spell wasn't completely dismissed. That could be your answer."
Enin raised an eyebrow, but cast doubt on the assertion.
"The first portal was closed. Of that I'm sure."
Again, Jure did not wish to contradict the more experienced wizard, but he saw something in the sequence of events that fit together.
"I'm sure it was closed, but that doesn't necessarily mean the spell was completely gone."
"What exactly do you mean?"
"Even if the first portal was closed, the spell that created it was clearly unstable. Remnants of that spell could have been caught in..." Jure paused to try and find words to complete his thought. "Not a plane of existence, but something just the opposite. How do I explain it? A stable portal would create a passage through a veil that would bridge two realms, exist in both at the same time, but an unstable gateway would drift both in and out of existence."
This awoke a deeper consideration for Enin. He thought of his meeting with Baannat and the slink ghoul's explanation of restoration. Baannat was not quite whole, not in body or in spirit, but there was something more to it than that.
In and out of existence!
That was how Enin sensed Baannat in the dark realm. Indeed, the slink ghoul was not whole, but it went beyond not regaining the full measure of his body or the full power of his magical ability. Baannat was not hiding in some distant dimension. He was in the dark realm, but at the same time, he wasn't.
"Give me a moment," Enin requested.
Jure complied without argument.
As Enin walked about, he thought of Baannat; perhaps trapped in a veil between realms, or hiding in that same veil... not in an envelope of magic, not in a chamber created between dimensions, but actually in the curtain that already exists between the two. He was killed in a pocket of magic, but dark creatures removed his body to the dark realm. The envelope of magic Baannat created dissolved, but the veil between dimensions would always exist.
That was where Baannat was! That's why Enin's spell of destruction failed to obliterate the slink ghoul.
It also explained why Enin could not close his own portal. Portions of Heteera's spell were trapped in the veil. Her portal was closed, but remnants of the spell remained and attached themselves to the new rift. Enin's spell was not completely his own. He had reenergized remnants of Heteera's portal, and thus, the portal could be claimed by Baannat who had his own link to Heteera.
Enin smiled upon Jure.
"You have done well. You have opened my eyes. We have a chance to stop this."
"I'm not exactly sure what I've done," Jure confessed, "but you spoke of a debt?"
"Yes, I did... a debt of all spell casters. I was referring to the time before Sanctum Mountain, the time when Ingar first created the sphere. Spell casters actually fought against every race to prevent the sphere from being entombed. They aligned with the dark creatures because they wanted the sphere freed for their use. They did not want the magic removed from the land."
"The legend of Shayed," Jure responded. "The elf sorceress fought with the races as the only spell caster determined to see the sphere buried in Sanctum Mountain."
Enin nodded with a smile.
"It is good to see you are studying the lore along with practicing your spells. You truly are expanding your knowledge. But we have to face the full truth. The other spell casters fought on the side of selfishness. That is a mistake that all spell casters carry with them. The magic has returned and we all have a chance to repay the debt. That, however, applies to magic casters who have not yet done their part. You have already paid your portion. I will request no more of you."
Jure beamed, but only for a moment. He could not take pride in such a small offering. He had lived long enough to know that life was a continual test and he didn't wish to sit on the sidelines. He sensed the coming storm, the chaotic tremors that broke through the portal in the distance. He could not stand by as an observer as if he made his full contribution. It wasn't enough.
"Maybe you don't want to request my help, but I want to offer it."
Once more, Enin could not help but notice the strong aura of compassion bubble from the spell caster. As much as he wanted Jure to help fight this war, for it was character and strength of spirit that would be needed to defeat Baannat, he could not dismiss what Jure already contributed. It might have seemed a small offering in the eyes of the spell caster, but to Enin, it was a grand revelation and perhaps a key to avoiding all hostilities.
"I will not deny your assistance would be most helpful, but where I have been willing to pressure other spell casters into offering their aid, I will not make such demands on you. I must make it clear to you that you no longer have any obligation to me."
"Then think of me as a volunteer as opposed to a recruit," Jure stated. "Look, I don't want to overstep my bounds. I'll do whatever you ask of me, but I'd rather be part of an army than standing out here alone. Really, I want to help."
"Very well. Accompany me to Pinesway. I have summoned dozens of spell casters already. When we return, I will make my plans clear."
Chapter 18
He did not want harm to come to the algors, he wanted to help them, but Ryson's heart and mind remained in the mountains with Linda. After leaving Enin and letting the wizard deal with Neltus, he made the trek to the algor den as quickly as caution would allow. He wished to alert them to the danger, encourage them to accept the help of the dwarves, and then turn his attention back to his true concerns.
When he reached the sandstone cliffs dotted with tunnel openings the algors used as shelter, he found little amiss. Most of the tailless, lizard-like creatures acknowledged him as any other algor. For the most part, they went about their business. They revealed no curiosity to his appearance and no exuberance to his arrival, nor did they show any dismay as if he was an uninvited guest or an unwelcome invader. The greeting as a whole ranked somewhere between comfortable acceptance and simple indifference.
Most of the upright, green-scaled algors acted as if just another one of their kind had returned from a long a
bsence in the desert. It was a very common occurrence. Algors came and went with casual frequency. They ventured out into the wasteland in search of isolation and then returned back to the fold, to rejoin the community as if they had never been away.
The difficulty Ryson now faced was getting their full attention and conveying his message. There was no council for him to advise, no royal family to meet, no single commander of an army to warn. The algors existed in a bizarre split between complete individualism and a hive-like belonging with no queen. All held equal standing. There was no leadership, and thus, he had to speak to them all, or at least to as many as possible.
He considered shouting out to the tunnels, but decided against it. He was slowly beginning to understand the collective thinking of the algors and decided to use that in his favor. One after another, to every algor that passed, he made one simple request.
"I need to speak with all of you. I will remain here until you've gathered. Please spread the word."
His attempt did not meet with complete success. Some of the algors ignored him, just ventured off into the desert alone, as if they suddenly decided they didn't want to be part of whatever he had to say. Others decided they would listen, but felt no need to communicate the message to others. They made an individual choice and felt no need to include others. These algors simply gathered around Ryson and waited patiently.
Most of those he spoke to, however, climbed back up the cliff walls and entered the array of tunnels and caves. Eventually, thousands upon thousands of algors spilled out of the cliffs and came down to give audience to the delver's warning. It was more than he could have hoped for.
They drew very near, crowding him, giving him little room. They spoke openly among each other, and as the multitude grew in size, the clamor became a near deafening and completely incomprehensible roar.
Then, without anyone calling for silence, without a single demand for attention, the crowd hushed. Not a single word was spoken, not a single algor moved. All of them stood silent with their bulging eyes fixed on the delver.
Ryson spoke quickly. Having their attention and hoping to keep it, he spelled out the danger first.
"A very powerful slink ghoul has gained command of the dark creatures both here and in the realm where they breed. His name is Baannat. He has made his intentions clear that he will attack all of the lands in force. He intends to send an army of beasts here into your desert. They will attack your home and they will attack very soon. I've come here to warn you and to aid you in your preparation."
As he took a breath before continuing and waited a moment to gauge their interest, the silent attention of the algors dissolved.
"We have been attacked before," one voice cried out.
"The desert is always dangerous," another shouted.
And then a chorus of shouts followed.
"This is nothing new."
"We are always attacked."
"Dark creatures are now a way of the land."
"Goblins will wilt in the desert."
"They will end up in the forest."
"Let them raid the outer lands."
"There is nothing here for them."
"That's where they always go."
"None last in the desert for long."
Ryson held up his hands hoping to regain their attention. It worked unbelievably well. It was as if the algors were commanded as one unit to be silent, and they complied.
"It isn't just goblins and it's not just raids," Ryson offered, as he hoped to alert them to the true severity of what they faced. He remembered how Baannat used the dark creatures after the Sword of Decree destroyed the vessel of captured magic. The monsters moved against him, Holli, and Lief as a single body, much like the algors listened to him at that moment. "All of the dark creatures are now united. They are not fighting amongst themselves. Baannat has control over them all, and he will use them all. It won't just be a single camp of goblins, or a flock of hook hawks, or even a pack of shags. It will be all of them and more. It will be a deluge of creatures bent on clearing the desert of anything in their way. They want to take control of this land, and to do so, they must remove you."
This time as the delver paused, the algors remained quiet. Ryson believed he struck the proper chord as they no longer called out any dismissive responses. He continued with a renewed hope, but in his desire to keep the warning open-ended in regards to timing, he made a critical mistake.
"A portal to the dark realm is opened that cannot be closed. It is to the east of here, at the outer edges of the desert. It is being manipulated by the slink ghoul. Beasts and monsters will utilize it to cross over in great numbers. We can't be sure of when, but there is great concern that you will be targeted."
One algor from the crowd shouted out a single question.
"Are you certain they will come?"
Ryson stopped to consider the point. It was truly a question of significance and it went beyond the simple concern of a single algor.
Was he certain?
In all honesty, Ryson wasn't certain of anything. It was Enin who believed the desert would be attacked. The wizard convinced him of the threat, but that's all it was, just a threat. Ryson had seen no sign of an invading army on his trip to the desert. Baannat said nothing specifically about attacking the algors. Everything was based on Enin's interpretations.
Once more doubt made its presence known. Would Baannat attack in the desert? Should he have left Linda? Was any of this really necessary?
Rather than acknowledge those doubts, he replied with a simple perspective regarding what brought him to the desert in the first place.
"The wizard Enin has sent me here because he is sure about the attack. He wants you to prepare..."
A different voice interrupted him.
"Do you believe we will be attacked?"
"Enin wouldn't lie," Ryson responded quickly this time, not allowing his own concerns to confuse the matter.
As if that answer was not sufficient, another voice repeated the question with an emphasis on the delver.
"Does Ryson Acumen believe the algors will be attacked?"
In a moment of weakness—a release of the frustration and fatigue growing within—Ryson spoke of his own doubts.
"I think there's a danger, but I don't know what to believe."
And just as quickly as he finished his answer, the intermittent shouts began again. One algor after another yelled out his or her own view of the matter.
"We have nothing for them."
"Why would they come here?"
"They will target the forest or the humans."
"It's the spell casters. They will bring them here."
"Why would dark creatures unite against us?"
"We should listen to the wizard. He is powerful."
"The wizard is not one of us."
"There is only concern. Nothing is definite."
"Sentinels are needed."
"A waste of time."
That was all Ryson could hear. After that, one shout merged into another and he could not distinguish a single word.
He held up his hand again, but the algors ignored him. He tried to shout over them, but even he could barely hear what he said.
Ryson shook his head. He had lost them. He almost allowed it to be the solution. If the algors ignored the threat, there was no need for him to stay.
Something inside him, however, held him, kept him from issuing a farewell and leaving it to the algors to decide. For some reason, he couldn't just abandon them, and though he couldn't put that reason into clear perspective, he acknowledged it in the form of a question. He asked the closest algor that simple question, and the answer turned out to be the true reason he was there.
"Am I one of you?"
Other algors continued to shout, but those nearest to the delver gave Ryson a long, appreciative look.
The algor that Ryson asked directly answered first.
"You are Acumen, you are delver... you are algor."
Another algor repeated the response, "You are Acumen, you are delver, you are algor."
Another algor answered, but only slightly different.
"You are you, you are them, you are us."
That was also repeated.
Almost immediately the shouts from the crowd diminished and then ceased completely. Whispers of acceptance echoed from the crowd.
"Acumen, delver, algor."
With that, Ryson understood. He was actually three things. He was an individual. He was also a delver, but even that wasn't all. He belonged to the community of algors as well. Through his past trials and his willingness to not only assist the algors but to share their suffering, they had accepted him. Somehow in their collective thoughts, they viewed him as truly another algor.
That thought, however, proved Enin's theory. Baannat wanted Ryson to suffer. The delver was sure of that, and if Ryson was part of the algors, then Baannat would attack them. Any doubts regarding what the algors faced vanished.
"I'm afraid because you have accepted me, you have also welcomed attacks from my enemies. The slink ghoul is out for revenge—revenge against me, my wife, and the wizard Enin. Enin believes that will make you the prime target for an attack. That is why he sent me here."
The algors now listened more intently and showed no signs of interrupting.
"One of you just asked if I believed you would be attacked. I know I said that I didn't know what to believe. That was a mistake. I do believe Baannat will come after you. He will do so because of me. I'm very sorry for that. I wish I could change it, but I can't. All I can do is warn you and hope that you will let me help you against whatever comes."
The algors erupted from their silence.
"We must prepare."
"We must defend ourselves."
"Sand giants are needed."
"We must collect the magic."
And so it was done. The algors had been warned and they accepted that warning. They shouted plans for preparation and they would not be caught off guard.
With one objective completed, Ryson almost allowed himself to smile, but he now faced the most difficult obstacle. Ryson held up his hands to address a second objective.