Delver Magic Book II: Throne of Vengeance
Page 51
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Yave retraced the steps of the sand giants that attacked her home. She moved through underground passages grumbling in half-sentences and cursing in muttered snarls. She moved westward in tunnels which stretched below the Lacobian desert. She could not feel the heat, for she was far below the surface, but an image of her final destination etched itself in her mind, residue from her encounter with the Sword of Decree.
Somewhere below a point of pure desolation, she began her ascent to the surface. The dethroned queen savagely ripped at the soft ground, ripped through soil with her powerful, bare hands. Rock and dirt slowly gave way to sand, and her momentum increased. She shoved the sediment behind her as she pressed her face forward into the darkness of her handmade tunnel. Sand filled the rolls of her royal garb, granules spilled into her mouth and eyes. She ignored the stinging pain and the dry, bitter taste. She broke through to the surface with an indignant shout of conquest. She pulled herself to her feet not bothering to brush the caked sand from her person. Her eyes turned to the south. In the far distance, she spied a small oasis, a plot of life in this barren hell which she already knew existed.
She labored through the sand, trudging across the desert, moving more out of bitter determination than anything else. The light burned her eyes, the desert sun clouded her vision. The damage was permanent, but she ignored her pain as well as her dwindling sight. She moved from a memory, a slice of knowledge placed in her brain.
The Sword of Decree had showed her all that had occurred in Sanctum. She saw her son die, but she saw other events as well. She saw a sorceress, a human woman that was also in Sanctum. The sorceress took the name Tabris, and at the time of the sphere, she didn't want to be a magic caster, but the damned delver forced his will upon her. Now, the sorceress had power, power to help Yave defeat all who opposed the sanctity of Tun's memory. The human woman dwelled in this portion of the desert, she had created this oasis. The sword had given the dwarf queen that knowledge as well.
Tabris stood at the edge of a small pond, a collection of fresh water created by her many spells of storms and squalls. Vegetation was thick here, coaxed to life by the moisture as well as her magic. She could not control nature with the same power she controlled the storms, but her magic was enough to grow fruit trees in the middle of a lifeless desert. She did not expect Yave's arrival, but she noticed the lonely traveler before the dwarf entered the oasis. She continued to soak in the magic surrounding her as she greeted her visitor.
"You are lost, dwarf." The sorceress spoke plainly and without joy in seeing a visitor or anger in confronting a trespasser. The dwarf queen's presence meant little to her, an oddity to be sure, but nothing that truly evoked a meaningful response from the sorceress.
Yave could barely see the outline of the taller woman before her. Though her vision was aided by the existence of shade trees, she still had to squint out the bright light. She showed no sign of welcoming the cooler temperatures of the oasis. Her personal comfort was immaterial; her quest for justice was her only desire.
"I am not lost," Yave spouted like a drunkard finding an unattended bar. "I came to see you. You are Tabris, the sorceress that entered Sanctum."
Tabris looked deeply into the mind of the dwarf. The exiled queen was easy to read. Yave's emotions burst like fireworks on a clear, dark night. Her desires flared like hungry flames burning dry wood. "And you are Yave, mother of the deceased Tun Folarok. What would you have me do, dwarf? Use my power against the delver, strike out at the elves of Dark Spruce, and then finish the algors? Is that what you wish? I do not hold to your beliefs."
Yave grunted as her hatred deepened. "You did not want to be a sorceress," she hissed. "The delver forced you into this. You must desire justice for your own sake."
"I have not yet decided on that," Tabris announced. "My path is not chosen as of yet. My choices in Sanctum have not led to a conclusion."
"My path is concluded!" Yave bellowed. "I need your help!"
Tabris looked upon the dwarf apathetically. "As I have already asked, what would you have me do? I will not attack, not on this day anyway."
Yave grimaced. "Loose your energies upon me. Give me the power to attack. If you do not seek justice, at least do not hinder one who does."
Tabris barely acknowledged the request. Her thoughts began to drift to other matters. She considered the alteration and expansion of her known spells. The dwarf queen was simply not of great importance. She was more of a gnat buzzing at her ear. The sorceress answered with casual disregard. "I gain nothing in such an action. Your purpose is not of my concern."
"What is it you want from me, witch?" Yave demanded. "What must I pay? Name your price."
"You have nothing to offer," Tabris responded.
Yave heaved in frustration. Her teeth ground together as she clamored for attention. "There must be something. There are gems where I come from, stones which can hold magic. There are weapons for your enchantment, metals and stone to build a suitable palace."
"I need no such items," Tabris replied with her mind on other thoughts.
"What do you need?" Yave asked fitfully.
"I need to practice my craft."
Yave grasped an idea and embraced hope. "Practice on me. Is there not a spell you might wish to try which could benefit us both? Something which will give me the power I need?"
"You are a dwarf and very resistant to magic," Tabris replied, but her attention seemed to refocus.
"I will open myself to your spell."
Tabris considered the offer. Possible spells flooded her mind. "There is something I have been hoping to try."
"Will it strengthen me? Allow me to exact justice?"
Tabris nodded. "My natural focus is in the power of storms, my magic is dark violet. I have often wondered if I could power the spirit essence of a minion with the strength of storm. If successful, your body would be destroyed. The substance of your being would be transferred to the center of a powerful tempest. Your consciousness would remain, but you would no longer be of mortal form. You would become the force and the drive of a storm. Once the spell is cast, you would have independent thought and you could bring the strength of a storm upon whomever you choose… as long as I allow it."
Yave hungered greedily for the power. She could not contain herself. "Cast the spell! Do not wait!"
Tabris shrugged. She rubbed her hands together, set them as if praying. Her eyes rolled over white. Her head bowed back as she called for the power of a storm. A violet diamond formed about her hands, the sides rotating, bristling with magic. Her pupils slowly returned, and she set them on the sky. She threw her hands up over her head, and the purple diamond bolted to the heavens.
Dark, angry clouds formed over the desert, ignoring the heat, ignoring the sun. They rumbled with purpose. A bolt of lightning struck Yave. It disintegrated her body as it swallowed the dwarf queen's spirit.