by Jeff Inlo
"What do the algors have to do with this?"
"The algors are unable to store magic. They have to collect it in order to use it. They have perfected certain methods which I might find useful. If I can match their approach in collecting magic, I could again cast spells, even without a core. Don't you see? I could return to the way I was without becoming a danger to the land."
Ryson could not dismiss the thought. He knew the algors well, knew they could not store magic. They could, however, cast powerful spells. Their skill in healing magic was unmatched in all of Uton. Though the delver was uncertain about many qualities regarding the energy, the concept seemed logical, if nothing else.
Despite the potential of the idea, Ryson suspicions of Neltus' intentions remained high.
"That explains what you want from the algors, but why do you want my help?"
"Because you know how to find the algors... and speak with them. I've heard you have this connection with them. Do you think I would ever be able to communicate with them on my own? They speak our language, sure, but they shout in unison or they talk over themselves. Would they even listen to me? And it's not just talking to them. It's also a matter of surviving. Without my magic, how long would I last in the desert? Even a single day?"
"You used to live in the desert."
"That was when I was practicing my skills. Without my ability to cast spells, how would I defend myself?"
Ryson couldn't argue. One look at Neltus and he knew the former wizard probably wouldn't make it through the rocky hills which bordered the desert. Neltus wouldn't even reach the sand. He'd stumble through the rocks and be eaten by a shag.
Despite his acknowledgement of Neltus' limitations, the delver remained reluctant, and he openly questioned the simple basis for the ex-wizard's plan.
"Why should I help you?"
Neltus held back a smile. He had prepared the reason even before he had started the argument.
"Because if I could learn how to cast spells again, then so could Enin. Sy Fenden took his core as well. You said Enin didn't deserve to lose his magic. We could fix that. Wouldn't it be worth helping me if you could allow Enin to assist people as he once did? How many times has he saved the land?"
As Neltus had hoped, the suggestion caught the delver off guard, and at first, Ryson questioned the assertion.
"Enin hasn't shown any desire to get his magic back."
"Maybe he should... but won't. Did you ever think of that?"
"Why would he avoid the magic?"
"Because it may be easier for him. Think of the responsibilities he carried, think of the strain. We all know he didn't like to interfere, but he had all that power. There were times he was forced to use it. Are you going to tell me his power didn't save all of us... on more than one occasion? But he had to decide when to use it... and when not to use it, that's a heavy burden."
"If that's his decision, maybe we should respect it."
"True, we can't force him to do something he doesn't want to do, but don't you think we owe it to him to offer the opportunity?"
"Then why aren't you talking to him?"
"I intend to. In fact, I want you to go with me to see him now."
Chapter 7
Floating above the flat ground of the spire, Baannat considered the developing aspects of his own scheme. While his magic and influence over domains of substance had become muted since his exile into nonexistence, the slink ghoul could still cast spells to look into other lands. It was necessary to keep an eye on Neltus in order to establish that certain objectives had been met before the ghoul took any unnecessary risks.
Neltus' lack of a core made him hollow in the essence of magic, and as such, he stood out to a creature who ruled a realm of emptiness. Baannat found it quite simple to follow the human's movements. He could hear Neltus' conversation with the delver and understood the implications of the discussion.
The ghoul nodded in appreciation at the human's deceptive nature. There were still other obstacles to overcome, but Baannat could not discount Neltus' persistence. He believed the coreless wizard would actually succeed in bringing Ryson and Enin into the desert.
With Neltus' path becoming clear, it was now the slink ghoul's turn to make an unsettling contact. There were very few entities Baannat feared, but even to a creature of nonexistence, disturbing Reiculf remained a dangerous proposition. The ghoul would have rather not included the daokiln in his plans, but it was necessary to regain the essence of the one individual he wanted above all others.
In order to contact the demon ruler, he needed the proper medium. Even as he stood above the dark lands, the ghoul couldn't simply shout into the upheaval below and expect to be heard. The dark realm might have been influenced by the demon master, but it was a region of far too many distractions to break through to Demonspawn by simply calling to the lord of evil. Baannat would have to find a more direct method to communicate his proposal.
A substantial number of half-demons stalked the grounds far beneath the spire. Any creature with even partial demonic heritage would always be linked to the daokiln, and such a connection was exactly what the slink ghoul needed.
Baannat considered trapping an infern or some other beast with a bond to Demonspawn, but that would require a more active hunt. The ghoul remained restricted by certain limitations created by his incomplete substance. Under the right circumstances, he might eventually force a half-demon into submission, but time was becoming an issue the ghoul could not ignore. Rather than hunt outside Reiculf's domain, Baannat decided to reach through established borders and focus his attention upon the edges of Demonspawn.
Upon the plateau of the rock tower, at the curtain between existence and nonexistence, Baannat cast a spell of dimensional transition. It required very little energy to cast, especially by a slink ghoul who dominated a realm of nothingness but could still exist within physical space.
The spell did not create a portal into Demonspawn, but rather a simple ripple, like a bend in a heavy drape which blocked light from a window. The distortion was enough to allow for subtle whispers through the veil which divided the dark realm from Reiculf's domain.
Rather than speak, Baannat sent a small flame into the transitional break, but it was not simple fire. It was a spark of demon heat, a blaze which burned without smoke. It was bait and his claw was the hook.
The ghoul did not have to wait long before the insignificant flame caught the attention of its intended prey. A darowk—a smoke demon with a penchant for swirling around the boundaries between realms—found the tiny flame impossible to ignore.
Smoke demons were bred from the bursts of demon fire, and the soul scorching flames attracted darowks like flowers attracted bees. Small sparks of smokeless fire offered the prospect of intensification and amplification for the hazy creatures. They could feed off the heat without becoming encumbered by the fumes which drifted off of ordinary flames. Demon fire allowed them to expand to such a point where they could divide without losing their initial magnitude. A steadily fueled burst of smokeless fire could lead to a darowk creating hundreds of offspring.
The darowk noted certain aspects of the flame which made it irresistible. The burning ember hung in the folds of Demonspawn's curtain; close enough for the smoky entity to embrace, but deep enough into the outer boundary to allow for a level of security from beasts which might feast on its hazy substance. The flame remained hot enough to offer substantial sustenance but not to a degree that it would represent a burning threat. The lesser demon could feed at great length without any disruption.
The smoke demon rushed toward the lustrous light before another darowk noticed the enticing glow. It encased the flame with its hazy substance and immediately began to draw the intense heat into its own smoky interior.
With the darowk fully attached to the bait, Baannat set the hook. His incomplete claw sliced through the transitional ripple and took hold of the smoke demon. As the slink ghoul was an entity of only partial substance, the wraithlike
aspects of Baannat's claw enabled him to take hold of an entity with no true substance of its own.
The darowk trembled, attempted to flee from the trap, but it was totally ensnared in the grip of the slink ghoul. It could not shriek, but its hazy essence rolled about in obvious torment.
Baannat could have pulled the darowk through the veil which separated Demonspawn from the dark realm, but he decided against it. He believed his call would be heard if he maintained an opening into Reiculf's realm.
Knowing the daokiln ruled all demons no matter where they prowled, the slink ghoul spoke through the dimensional ripple. He gave a blunt order directly to the darowk caught in his claw.
"Call for your master!" Baannat demanded.
The slink ghoul sensed hesitation in its prey. Baannat knew he could not threaten the creature with any torment greater than Reiculf could provide, so the ghoul made his intentions clear.
"I have a proposition for the daokiln... one which will satisfy his current ambitions. Fail to allow for the delivery of such a proposition and his retribution will be great."
Without recourse, the darowk reluctantly made a plea to its master.
Initially, there was no response. Not a surprise. Though a darowk calling for Reiculf was clearly unexpected, it did not necessarily follow that the daokiln would respond to such an insignificant appeal.
The slink ghoul understood that the cries of a single darowk would not immediately arouse the attention of the realm's lord and master. He needed to raise the severity of the request.
"Invoke my name," the ghoul demanded of the smoke demon, "Reveal to your master that Baannat calls upon him."
Once the message was communicated, there was an immediate response. The daokiln did not appear near the dimensional rift, but his voice thundered in the slink ghoul's mind.
"Not a wise decision... to intrude upon my realm."
"There was no other way to speak with you," Baannat responded respectfully.
"An insufficient excuse. You assume I wish to hear you. At the moment, I have no need for you or your domain of nonexistence."
"I do not wish to imply you had such a need, but I do have an offer."
"You wish to regain Ansas' essence," Reiculf growled with disgust, already aware of the slink ghoul's desires. "He is mine for as long as I want him. If I ever tire of him, I might toss him to you out of amusement, but that would be the extent of my concern for your wishes."
"You are correct. I do want Ansas back in my domain. I am also quite aware I could never demand him from you, or even simply make the request. He is yours now and his fate is completely within your discretion."
"Then why do you risk your existence... and nonexistence... to disturb me?"
"Because I believe I can offer you something of greater value."
"Value is irrelevant. What is valuable to you is nothing to me. Your desire to regain Ansas' essence might be of great importance to you, but he is less than a worm in my estimation. That does not mean I will simply turn him over to you. All that matters are my desires. I care little for what you might consider valuable."
"Quite right. I admit I am in an unenviable position. Any declaration of what you would consider valuable is obviously presumptuous on my part, but I must at least make the attempt."
"Then be warned ghoul, your careless reach into my domain allows me to seize you if I find your words insulting."
"Very well, and in order to avoid even the pretense of petty bargaining, allow me to reveal exactly what I require. I will need the services of a doppelganger and a dathit. I must have complete dominion over them. They must respond to my wishes as if they were responding to you. And they must be willing to travel through dimensional space."
The daokiln found the request absurd, yet significant enough to maintain his interest. He decided to question the slink ghoul, if for nothing else, to gauge the depth of Baannat's schemes.
"A doppelganger is pointless to one such as you," Reiculf asserted. "Even in your imbalanced state, you are a slink ghoul with sufficient magic to cast in light and illusion. You could create any shape shifting illusion you desire. Why do you risk my wrath over something with no value?"
"I am in need of an agent; one who will not raise the suspicions of certain individuals. The doppelganger will attach itself to these individuals so that I might make needed adjustments in order to gain my advantage."
"A waste of power. There are other creatures just as suited for such a need."
"Unfortunately, there are not. My plans require a certain level of sophistication. The individuals I intend to engage will include an elf with the ability to sense dark creatures and a wizard highly sensitive to magic. A shape-shifter without the cunning of a doppelganger would be immediately recognized by the elf, and a spell of illusion would be noticed by the wizard. I need a creature capable of masking itself from individuals of high sensitivity. I also need its ability to mask the presence of the dathit. A doppelganger is the only creature I can depend on for such complex designs."
"Then why the dathit? There is nothing sophisticated about such an immense creature. If fully unleashed, it could destroy an entire world."
"I will also be engaged with a spirit entity," Baannat revealed, "and while I have no intention of obliterating any world, the need to neutralize a ghost warrior will require the deployment of substantial power. I must make the threat equal to the task."
"And is this all you require?" Reiculf questioned with a snicker.
"No, as you have also noted, I also desire Ansas to be returned to my... care."
"You ask for a great deal, slink ghoul. To give you dominion over a dathit in itself is no insubstantial feat. And to allow such a creature to move freely between realms is no simple task. A doppelganger... a dathit... the return of Ansas to your domain; what could you possibly offer in return? You rule over nothingness. My hate has substance. What could you give me in terms of equal value?"
"Ryson Acumen and his wife."
Chapter 8
Ryson would have preferred reaching Enin's home on foot. He could have avoided the busier roads and raced through back alleys and side streets. He also didn't appreciate sharing a carriage with Neltus, but he decided he should keep an eye on the hefty wizard until they reached their destination.
When they arrived at Enin's house, they were met at the door by a half dozen dogs thrilled to see the delver. After Ryson greeted each tail-wagging animal, he announced the reason for their visit.
Enin guided his visitors to the study where he could consider Neltus' proposal with fewer distractions. Enin was almost as suspicious of Neltus' motives as Ryson had been, but he had agreed to listen to the ex-wizard's plea. He, above all others, understood the emptiness which plagued a spell caster unable to hold magic. After hearing Neltus' initial theory, Enin dismissed the proposal as empty hope.
"Don't you think I would have considered that?" Enin questioned Neltus.
"You might have," Neltus allowed, "but not in the manner I have. Look at how the algors live. They're out in the desert, they congregate in those sandstone cliffs, they live closer to the land than anyone else. More importantly, even the way they use the magic is different."
"How do you see it as different?"
"What do they do when they want to use magic?"
"They are healers."
"Not when they want to attack. When they want to use magic against someone, they create sand giants. That's why I understand them differently than you. I see how they use the land with their magic."
Enin agreed that each individual used magic differently. Unique skills and practiced techniques allowed for spell casters to utilize different spells in different ways. His own perception gave him insight into magic few had ever possessed. Still, those differences did not offer a solution to the problem of losing a core. No matter how magic was used, it had certain distinct qualities which could not be altered or ignored.
"Their use of the magic is irrelevant to our underlying proble
m," Enin professed. "You could not animate sand giants right now anymore than I could fly."
"I'm not saying their use of sand giants will solve our problem. I'm saying it proves that I might know just a little more about this than you."
"I sincerely doubt that's the case. Your magic might have focused solely on the land, but my control extended over all the hues, including your crimson magic. I do not see how the algors' use of sand giants would lead you to some insight I do not have."
"That's just it. Your control over things like air and light make you look at things differently. This isn't a matter of wrong or right. It's a matter of opinion."
"Opinions have little to do with facts, and the fact of the matter is that you and I have lost our cores. Without one, we can no longer utilize magic in the manner which you hope to achieve."
Neltus would not relent.
"And I still say that's a matter of opinion, and opinions are formed on experience. That's why the algors are important. When they create sand giants, they don't just cast a spell. They have to collect the magic first. They pull it from their surroundings because it's not within them. Just like us, they can't store the magic."
"And that's where your reasoning fails. Algors may not be able to store magic, but they still have a core. Their core is just porous. The magic slips through over time, but they still have the ability to absorb and capture the energy, even if it is only for a limited time. That is how they differ from us, but it's a great difference indeed."
"But maybe we can still learn from them. They are able to pull vast flows of magic from the land. Their concentration may be a key."
"I understand their abilities far better than you think. Concentration is not a relative variable. Do you honestly believe their focus is greater than mine?"
"Not greater... different. No one denies your ability. You could cast the most complex and devastating spells in all the land, but you never faced the limitations the algors had to face since the beginning of their very existence. Your core was an ocean of magical power. You could store amounts unthinkable to the average spell caster, and you could store it almost indefinitely. The algors never had that luxury. They had to use it immediately or it would be lost to them."