"I see." Ryson took a moment to glance down the long tunnel. The light from the sword lit the passage way with greater depth than the brightest of lanterns. It allowed Ryson to inspect the walls and to follow the path. The tunnel twisted and turned for a great distance before the path curved out of sight. "I wonder how far this thing goes."
Holli showed no interest in the tunnel. "It is of no concern to us."
She stepped back to the opening and passed an expectant glance at the delver. She obviously wished to exit the tunnel and continue with their original quest.
Ryson's curiosity would not be so easily contained. He meandered within the walls of the tunnel, taking deep longing stares down the enclosed corridor. He offered his own opinion. "I don't know about that. We don't know what that creature was. You said so yourself. Maybe this tunnel holds the answer."
Holli's response was coldly logical. "The creature must be a result of the tainted magic which now swells over the land. The sphere emits energies which can alter creatures in unthinkable ways. It might have been nothing more than the egg of an ordinary spider that somehow became mutated. It's a surprise we haven't come across something like this sooner."
Ryson's growing desire to explore the tunnel exuded from him like smoke from a fire. "But look at how long this tunnel goes. Who knows what we might find."
"And you wish to explore it?" Holli's expression was harsh.
"Of course. If the magic created this creature, it might have created something else."
She frowned dubiously. "Yes, something more terrible and more deadly. I do not see the point in taking such a risk."
"We shouldn't just leave without inspecting at least a little further," Ryson requested. "We may never have an opportunity like this again."
Holli stared sternly at the delver. "How will this help us in our quest to find the algors?"
"I don't know. I don't know what may be down there. That's why I think it wouldn't hurt to check it out."
"This will not help our cause," Holli spoke angrily.
Her tone finally caught Ryson's attention. He stood confused over her adamant stance.
"What's wrong?"
"You have been given a task," she replied forcefully. "That task was to find the algors, or have you forgotten? We must find them and explain to them of what is happening. According to Mappel, even according to you, there are important decisions to be made involving the sphere. We have not the time to explore this irrelevant tunnel dug by some monster. We must return to this objective."
"It won't take long just to have a look around," Ryson persisted.
"It will not help us." Her hardened stare did not ease. "I know what is causing this. It is your natural instincts as a delver to explore that which is new to you. I must ask you to contain these feelings until we have accomplished what we have set out to do. Now, I can not find the algors on my own. That is your responsibility. But I also know that I can't force you to do anything. I know enough about you that if you wanted to leave me behind you could do so in an instant. I can't capture you or even keep up with you. I can only ask you to remember your pledge to Mappel, and to Shayed. Remember your responsibilities as I remember mine. We need to find the algors."
Ryson grimaced at acknowledging the truth. He knew his desire to explore the tunnel failed to hold any true rewards other than satisfying his own curiosity. He cursed lightly under his breath before accepting the only true course of action. He looked to Holli requesting forgiveness with his eyes.
"Of course you're right. This kind of thing just happens to me sometimes. It's hard for me keep my attention focused with so much going on. I hope you can understand."
"You do not have to explain further. Let us forget this matter and exit this tunnel. I will need a moment to clean my wounds. Then, we will return to what we must do."
Chapter 10
Ryson and Holli trekked without hesitation through the Lacobian desert. Holli, accustomed to the thick brush of Dark Spruce Forest, cared little for the sand or the heat. She would have welcomed the shady refuge of tall leafy trees, but only thin cacti appeared along their travels. She longed for flowing streams or small quiet ponds, but the desert offered only an empty ocean of sand. The sun poured down upon her and the hot dry wind from the south bit at her skin. Her arms and legs were accustomed to climbing and leaping, not struggling through these Lacobian dunes.
Holli ignored these pains. She concentrated upon the delver's back and upon the surrounding land. As the sun and sand burned her eyes, she continued to scan the horizon as well as the very ground they tread upon. As she watched the delver move so effortlessly across this barren terrain, she remained always within arms reach, always ready to defend him. She bit back any stray thought which begged her to give in to the desert or to even request a moment's rest.
She called upon her training to keep her from tiring and to keep her moving forward in these conditions so hostile to her race. Whenever she felt her strength diminish, she placed her hand upon the hilt of the Sword of Decree. Its presence at her side reminded her of the faith Mappel had placed in her. She affirmed to herself that she would not delay the search for the algors. She would not slow the delver or force him to rest when he did not need it. She would continue far after all her strength evaporated into the dry desert heat if need be. Her own will and determination would carry her to the end of this quest.
So true was Holli's spirit, that Ryson did not even recognize her struggle. He stopped only when absolutely necessary. When he did, their pauses were brief. He also began to use the desert more and more to his advantage. He declared they would save all of their supplies and use only that which he could take from the land. He used his knife to coax liquids from hidden roots and from the innards of the surrounding cacti. After short breaks to complete such tasks, they were again on their way.
As Ryson moved through the desert, he opened his senses. He fought from focusing upon one item. Instead, he exposed his senses to everything around him. His mind turned back to the advice of Mappel.
Mappel had tried to explain how the algors lived based on his knowledge of elflore. They did not live in small camps like the elves, in towns like the humans, or in underground cities like the dwarves. They lived together, yet apart. Thousands upon thousands lived within the desert and considered themselves part of the greater community, but that community spread itself thinly over the vast desert. They dug dens in high sand dunes, they made homes in hollow cacti, they even found shelter in caves among the desert cliffs. They preferred a life equally split between solitude and group activity. As quickly as they would wander off into desolation, they would return to find kinship with other members of their community.
While each held a sense of strong loyalty to another, they fashioned their lifestyles upon individualism. It was a difficult prospect for outsiders to accept, for the algors appeared born with a natural sense of conformity; their desire to shed this inherent attribute led them to near split personalities.
As for their other habits, Mappel had described the algors as using every element of the desert to their advantage. They would feed from a cactus at the top of the stalk so as not to harm the roots or trunk. They would mold the very sand around them to construct dunes that would protect them from the sun and the hot dry winds. It was these things which Ryson focused upon as he traveled through the desert.
The delver constantly surveyed the land looking for such signs. He examined every cactus hoping to find claw marks indicating a recent climb to the top. He watched the breeze break across the desert trying to see signs of an unnatural barrier. He also lifted his nose to the air hoping to catch a unique scent which might indicate the presence of a creature he had never before met. He listened to the wind. Perhaps he would hear the slight vibration of a distant call. He held himself out for anything, anything at all. He would grasp upon the slightest clue to lead them.
For the moment, he found nothing. He followed only his instincts. He trotted forward making turns
based on nothing more than a whim. His direction held no true logic; he simply plodded forward like a hungry beggar looking for a morsel of bred in a land devoid of food. Yet, he held to the belief that at any minute he would hone in upon the smell, the sound, or the sight of something that would lead him to his ultimate destination.
The day trudged on. The wind quickened and the sun baked the sand as it began to sink from its position directly overhead. If night would bring them cooler times, they would pay for it first with the billowing heat of the latter half of day.
Still, they moved forward blindly, aimlessly across the wasteland. Even the scorpions and desert birds took refuge from the baking sun. The two appeared alone, searching for something they could not identify. Only their footsteps in the sand and on rock accompanied them now, and these trailed off behind them far out of sight, like a long wandering tail. It reminded Holli of the loneliness of their journey each time she turned to check their flanks.
When the elf did turn, she could not avoid the scope of their travel. Nothing in the distance behind them offered any sense of security. Any trace of the forest had long since vanished. The desolation of what surrounded them was overpowering. Hopelessness, loneliness, desperation; these were the emotions which attacked her mind. She spit these crushing thoughts from her like a bad aftertaste. There were more important things for her to focus on now.
As the sun lowered, the heat became thicker, stronger. It pressed upon her like some unseen hand trying to force her to her knees. Maintaining the pace the delver set became more and more difficult. Purely and simply, the elf was asking her body to maintain a cross country run through the desert. While her physical condition allowed for great stress, there remained limits. She was now exceeding those limits, and she faced yet one more battle to fight, the struggle of mind over body. She would have to convince her own tiring, aching muscles that they could indeed continue.
It became a personal war with the desert itself. She turned the wasteland into a powerful foe that mocked her. As she continued to scan the horizon, she looked over the dunes with growing animosity. The sand, the sun, and the wind were now all enemies that wished to stop her. It was up to her own perseverance to win this battle, and she remained determined against any failing. She began to care almost singularly about this one point. The desert would not defeat her.
Ryson did not face the same difficulties. His body apparently adapted to all environments. Like the chameleon, his very body chemistry altered to match his surroundings. The heat barely affected him. Running across this empty land offered no true challenge to his skills. The true challenge rested in the search itself, in finding the algors, a search he continued without frustration. Even as he moved without true direction, he maintained a vigorously determined outlook upon his intentions. The day was passing without a single hint of the mythical algors, yet he remained open-minded to their existence. More, he now accepted their existence as fact. The question to him was no longer if they were actually in the desert. It was more if he could find them. With such a challenge, his delver blood flowed true, and he began to move with methodical precision.
More and more, he pulled the spyscope from the pouch at his belt. He scanned far across the desert, inspecting the terrain with more and more concentration. Perhaps, it was the purifying power of the desert which began to clear his mind of his own unconscious barriers, the long travel over rock and sand with a dry wind cleansing him of self-doubts. It brought an edge to his senses and brought out the most receptive instincts inherent to a purebred delver. He began to sense things about the desert that he did not even notice when their journey began. Each time he brought the scope to an eye, he nodded in approval. He even began to smile with great satisfaction.
As this behavior increased, Holli wondered if the desert was taking the mind of the delver. She knew of how such conditions could drive anyone to madness. She worried if the madness now controlled her companion. She finally decided to break her silence even if it meant momentarily delaying their search.
"Delver," she called to him over his shoulder. "Are you alright?"
Ryson twirled about with great energy. He smiled happily. "I'm fine, Holli." He said nothing more. He watched her expectantly, obviously hoping she would continue to question him.
"What is it?" Her tone indicated she was tired and expected an immediate explanation.
"They are here," he said plainly, but with an even bigger smile.
"You are sure?" The elf took her attention from the delver. Her body became tense and ready. Her hand fell to the hilt of the sword as she scanned all directions. The wear of the desert upon her body almost completely disappeared as she considered facing possible danger.
"You can't see them," Ryson offered. "I haven't seen them yet, but they have been here. I'm on to them now. Actually, it's not so much as following a single algor. It's more of finding signs of many of them. They do congregate, but they spread themselves thin just the same. There are so many different and opposing signs to look for. It's possible we've passed right by many of them for a long time. I didn't know what to look for when we started, but I do now. I see how they've forced changes on the desert that the wind couldn't have made. I see how they've made markings which appear totally natural, but offer landmarks for their own kind. Even now we're closing in upon an area which is well traveled by many of them. There's no question about it. They exist, and they're here."
Holli spoke with relief, as if believing the long journey was finally coming to an end, her own personal victory over the desert assured. "I take your word for it. What do we do now?"
"We find them." His smile did not vanish. It remained on his face as he pointed to a ridge of a sandstone mountain off to the west. "That is where we have to go."
Chapter 11
It was with great hope that Mappel and Lief had undertaken their journey to Connel. After Ryson Acumen and his escort departed for the Lacobian desert, Mappel had advised the rest of his camp of the situation they all faced. The discussion lasted much of that night. The following morning, he sent messengers to the dwarf city of Dunop with strict instructions. With all preparations complete, the elder elf and Lief had set out for Connel.
Even at his age, Mappel navigated the Dark Spruce Forest with casual ease. In but half a day they drew near the limits of Pinesway. Upon entering the town, they covered their ears with forester's caps. Their clothes were not that much different from their human counterparts. Only the hats and cloaks worn on such a beautiful day might have raised an eyebrow, but their arrival within the town's center caused not the slightest stir.
They themselves felt more uncomfortable than the humans that past them in the streets. Walking among the townspeople, across paved roads, and past tall buildings; this was both a new and unnerving experience. Their ears were concealed, but their self-consciousness could not be as easily tamed. More than once, they gaped at the crowds gathered at a street market or at the lavish decorations of the surrounding architecture. Viewing the humans from a distance could simply not prepare them for the experience of walking among them. The two elves felt as if they had slipped through space and time and into a new dimension.
Both Mappel and Lief forced this unease away as they realized that interaction with the humans was now inevitable. Without wasting much time, they secured faster transportation to Connel. Upon rented horses, paid for with gold dust obtained through trade from the dwarves, they reached their destination easily within the same day.
It pained Mappel to pass beyond the lands which led to Connel. Farmland had replaced wide areas where Dark Spruce was once in full command with its many trees. He wondered how many of them fell to the woodsman's axe to clear such long stretches of land. A few trees remained as markers for farmers and travelers; lonely sentinels; reminders of what once was.
Lief pointed out the outline of buildings in the distance as they approached Connel, which in truth was now more of a city. Activity bustled as they closed upon the growing collection of st
ructures on the horizon. It re-energized Mappel to see the stone wall still intact, but the sprawling size of Connel, which now actually spilled over sections of the wall, did little to ease his anxieties.
Much had changed since the time of legends, since Shayed stood with the humans, algors, dwarves and elves. This human town was filled with dwellings, shops, and inns; few of which honored the past, thus it was easy to spot their ultimate destination, Matthew's Church of Godson.
Upon entering the church, they had announced themselves as messengers of Ryson Acumen with important news. They were apparently not the first for other members of the church paid little attention to their arrival. They were quickly escorted to Reader Matthew's quarters in the back of the church.
Matthew met with the two alone. It was clear he awaited news from the delver eagerly.
Mappel spoke calmly and succinctly as Lief remained silent but vigil by his elder's side. The elder elf did not at the outset reveal his identity or his true purpose. He recited the findings of Ryson Acumen as if giving a report. He waited to judge the reader's reaction to the emergence of the sphere before announcing the true purpose of his visit.
Reader Matthew took the report with obvious agitation, but he showed no sign of true disbelief. He made no scoffing remarks, nor did he fail to accept the enormity of such news. He only demonstrated great concern. He was troubled and worried and the report left him weary.
Delver Magic Book I: Sanctum's Breach Page 16
