Ryson leapt upon a chestnut stallion and motioned for the others to follow suit. The horses remained motionless, as if in the deepest of sleeps, and each of the group had little difficulty in reaching a saddle. Even Tun and Jon, both forced to hoist themselves higher than their short legs would allow, found it easy to mount a horse which stood as still as a stone.
Dzeb mouthed another indiscernible word, a word with no meaning to any there, save the horses. The animals stirred immediately. Some fussed and reared as if startled from a dream. Their new riders took firm grip of the reigns and reassured their mounts with pats on the neck and soothing words.
"I guess we should move along," Ryson suggested as he nudged his horse forward.
The party left the mayor and his guards behind as they took to the road leading west. Only Holli looked back. Her vision swept across every guard, watching them all, especially those with bows. Her own bow remained in her hand. She held it up ever so slightly when her eyes locked with Consprite's. Her message was clear. If he tried to follow, cliff behemoth or no cliff behemoth, she would pierce him through the throat.
With the continuous beating of horse hooves, the mayor and his mercenaries soon dropped from sight. The spirits of the wayward travelers lifted as the sun hung brightly overhead. Warm rays filled the air. Trees, flowers, and the growing crops fed upon the light, reaching higher toward the sky. Birds chattered off in the distance, some simply ignoring the scattered scarecrows as they swooped down upon ripening fields of grain.
The promise of this gorgeous day, however, would not last. A growing wind from the west brought attention to thickening clouds on the horizon and cooled the air enough to allow the algors and dwarves to maintain their cloaks about them. No true surprise, for all but perhaps the dwarves knew that the growing season produced quick moving storms. Even the algors in the Lacobian Desert witnessed small squalls during this time in the cycle. It was the one season when even a desert could feel the cooling spray of rainfall.
The wind swirled dust from the roads, as did the hooves of the horses, and their movements took on a new sense of urgency. The swelling overhead clouds pressed the riders forward. The quicker they could reach their destination, the faster they could find shelter. It was thus they sat in saddle with even greater thanks, even as they looked behind to see the fading structures of Connel. They could never have hoped to cover so much distance in so little time. At the very least, they would reach the cover of trees in Dark Spruce before the heavy rains fell upon them. It was as Mappel and Dzeb suggested - a true blessing these horses, perhaps even a gift of Godson.
As Holli led them, she thought the reader would be the first to object to a strenuous pace. He appeared as much out of place upon horseback as did the mayor. To her surprise, he moved along without a grunt of dissatisfaction. So did they all, seemingly willing to go even faster if it would bring them to their destination before the heavy rains began.
Holli took advantage of such willingness, setting a pace faster than she could have expected but within the constraints of the horses. She would test their endurance without leading them to the brink of exhaustion. The horses that pulled Dzeb proved to be the measuring stick. As they grew tired, she slowed them all to a trot until they were again ready for a more strenuous run.
While Holli remained in the lead for the duration of the trip, it was Ryson that truly directed them. It was at this time that the delver's true skills became evident to even the most unwilling believer. On countless occasions, Ryson actually dismounted and ran off on foot. He left the reigns of his horse in the hands of Holli as he set off forward, or to the right, or to the left. He moved at a speed that easily surpassed the guarded gallops of the horses. He disappeared over hilltops only to return within moments to announce what lay ahead. He would leap back upon his moving horse with casual ease to converse with Holli. He kept her advised of travelers on the road, or farmers in nearby fields. Never winded from these excursions, he spent as much time scouting as he did riding. Occasionally, he brought back a pocketful of wild fruit which he passed out to his grateful yet amazed companions.
Ryson was well acquainted with the hills in this outlying area. He knew these roads with intimacy, knew the land like a lover knows the expression of his companion. These hills were his own, with or without the newly arrived magic.
He directed the group to the northeast and over the most passable, yet isolated countryside. It was not a straight path that would lead them to Sanctum, but a cut first to the north, to avoid the neighboring towns of Burbon and Pinesway.
They stayed on the open dirt roads, though they chose turns at Ryson's direction. Most times they avoided all passer-bys. Occasionally, an encounter with a farmer by the side of the road or a traveling merchant was unavoidable. Rather than waste time trying to elude them, Holli accepted the consequences and moved onward directly past.
None of those that witnessed the party made a single comment. Most stood aghast at the sight of the cliff behemoth, standing regally in the warehouse cart. Some farmers ran off, back to their houses or barns and watched from a safe distance to ensure the group did not linger by their property. One merchant nearly drove his own cart off the road into a ditch. Only by pulling his team to a complete halt did he avert disaster. He sat on top of his cart stunned, looking back over his shoulders at the passing menagerie.
As the span of travel past, the clouds thickened overhead. The sun was now invisible to them, hidden behind rolling purple clouds that swept across the sky faster than the wind that brushed their faces. The crisp shadows of noon disappeared with the sun, and the encompassing clouds brought the color of dusk even at this stage of midday. Sporadic raindrops carried by the wind had them all guessing when the steady rains would begin.
The passing land became more and more isolated, the road less kept. Carefully managed plots of planted wheat or corn turned into endless stretches of untouched fields where tall grass flourished. Wild flowers greeted them at first, but soon most closed their petals in anticipation of the coming rain. Weeds grew from the center of the dirt lane, rocks and holes appeared more regularly and as much in their path as upon the sides of the road. The number of travelers and roadside farmers dwindled to nothing.
The hills became steeper ahead as Ryson turned them to the southwest. They were now far enough north to avoid contact with even the outer limits of Burbon's farmland, and it allowed Ryson to draw a direct bead upon Sanctum. Its peak was not yet visible to them, but his delver senses allowed him to focus upon it as if it were right before him. They would avoid the growing inclines of the mountains ahead by cutting through the sliver of forest that separated Sanctum from these lands.
A gleam grew in each of the elves' eyes as the first true signs of Dark Spruce formed on the horizon. These were no scattered saplings set as markers for farmers. The growing clusters of trees rose tall and proud. At first sight, gaps appeared, created by the axe of the budding farm population, but soon, even these disappeared. To the south and to the west, the trees thickened, claiming this land as their own and defying all who might try to raze them.
The clouds now covered the entire sky, but other than a few droplets, the rain stayed away. The wind blew stronger and shuffled the leaves of the trees which now surrounded them. Holli followed Ryson's directions and kept the party moving through sparser sections of the forest where paths proved wide enough for the Dzeb's cart to pass. Still, enough cover of branches and leaves existed overhead to prevent a drenching if the constant rain did finally arrive.
Ryson continued his scouting activity. He did so now, however, with greater care. He no longer looked for the farmer or the merchant, but for obstacles created by the wild tainted magic. His own encounters with the undead, with goblins, and with vampire burned fresh in his mind. He finished the final leg of the journey completely on foot, allowing Holli to lead his horse. He watched, smelled and listened for any sign of danger, or of a scent he could not recognize.
He asked Holli to slow t
he pace to allow him to completely circle the group in order to prevent an ambush from the rear. She agreed reluctantly but the speed in which they reached this point allowed her the luxury of such care. Even if they slowed to a walk, they would reach the base of Sanctum before nightfall. With the delver's agility, they could maintain a casual trot and still allow him the chance to scout all directions before they stumbled upon something unawares.
The rest of the party remained at ease, even in the thickening forest. They found security, even comfort in Holli's careful guidance and in Ryson's unquestionable skills. As they witnessed the delver circling the party and on guard for even the slightest hint of danger, any doubts or fears simply evaporated. If there was a threat, they knew they would be warned far in advance, and that any pitfall would be avoided. It was only at the first sight of Sanctum that this calm confidence began to dissolve.
Through the trees, they could all see the peak, and soon enough, even the side of this hollow mountain. In the backdrop of a gray and purple sky, with the wind blowing steady from the west, the reality of what they yet faced stung their consciousness just as sleet falls in the dormant season.
The peak called to their attention as if a glowing beacon in a night sky. Those that would actually enter Sanctum, as well as those that accompanied them, found themselves searching their souls for inner strength and determination. Elves, dwarves, algors, and humans alike; they all knew the desperate facts of their dilemma. It wore upon their spirit as rough pine needles would scrape upon raw skin.
They were to enter a place that was constructed to defy entry. They were to pass obstacles older than the ways of life they had grown accustomed. If ever a prospect appeared out of reach, it was indeed the Sphere of Ingar. This was no simple quest, no pioneer adventure. This was history, legends, evil and magic rolled into one unyielding task. Even the delver's spirit, his desire to uncover truths long hidden, was squelched by the enormity, by the unquestionable magnitude of their final aim. Sanctum was a monument to the impossible, to what was not meant to be. Yet this handful of travelers moved onward to conquer the impossible, purged by the belief that it was theirs to overcome. This, and only this, pressed them forward and brought them all to Sanctum's base.
Holli dismounted and met Ryson on foot. She requested a full scout of the perimeter surrounding the mountain's base. If something hid on the other side, she would know of it before they ventured forward. To the others, she directed them to bring their horses to a cluster of trees. Each rider dismounted and tethered their animal to a branch or tree trunk and waited patiently as Holli quietly scanned the area. Her darting eyes covered every direction in an instant. Equally quick, she decided upon her strategy.
"It is not wise to bring the entire group up the mountain. There is little shelter from the storm. Only those that will ultimately enter Sanctum must make the climb. The others should stay here."
Mappel responded with a doubtful eye. He spoke with a quicker tongue than was his norm, and with an agitated tone. "You would have us wait here? Is that truly wise? I think it might be more valuable for us to accompany you. We can wait at the entrance, make sure you gain entry. We would also be there to see you return. There is also the matter of Shayed. I believe she awaits us. She may have something important to offer all of us."
Holli's face held no expression. Sharp eyes continued to dart about the forest even as she replied to Mappel with a monotone voice. "I will accept whatever decision you make, but I would ask you to carefully consider why you might make such a decision. Is it truly to benefit our cause or is it to allow you a chance to see Shayed? We will not be able to use the horses in this climb. The eight algors, Matthew, and even yourself, would have to climb on foot. There is no doubt in my mind the added number would slow our ascent. Once we reach the summit and point of entry, what is it that you would hope to accomplish? Would you simply mull about in the open during this storm waiting for our return? Do we even know how long that might be?"
Mappel turned even more introspective than ever. He pondered the truth behind his desires. Realizing that there was much validity in Holli's words, he abdicated his position.
"You are correct." His voice was hollow and sorrowful. "We can do little for you now. We will stay here. With Matthew's assistance and that of the remaining algors, I shall build a shelter from branches and leaves. It is a wise decision."
Sensing the sorrow in the elder elf, Holli offered a conciliatory option. "There is no reason you can not climb Sanctum after the storm is over. Perhaps even before midnight, the sky will be clear. You could rest now and begin your climb then. You could do so at your own leisure without worrying how you might slow the progress of those that must enter. If Shayed has a message, I will ask her to repeat it to you upon your arrival. Would that be satisfactory?"
"More than satisfactory," Mappel replied with a warming smile. He appeared as if youth was returning to his frail form.
With a decision made, Holli's tone returned to that of stern caution. "I will ask that you all remain alert both here and upon Sanctum. If goblins are infesting Dark Spruce, they might attack at any time. When climbing Sanctum, take even greater care. The stone will become slick with the rain. The ropes we use, we shall leave for your climb as well. Use them and remain patient. If you fall and are injured, there will be no way for us to help you."
All ten algors responded immediately. "Do not concern yourself with possible injuries from falling. We are again blessed with the power of healing. Nearly all the knowledge is returning slowly."
Holli turned toward them with a questioning stare. "Are you all of equal ability in this matter?"
They responded separately, talking one after the other, sometimes speaking over another's words.
"No."
"Some have greater ability."
"We each have some of the knowledge."
"The delver picked us that way."
"Those that could not heal were not picked by the delver."
"I have shown the greatest power."
At that, Holli held up her hand to stop them. Their chatter ended as if Holli held their mouths shut. She nodded to the last to speak.
"You have displayed the greatest power?"
"Yes," the single algor answered.
Though it was near impossible for most to distinguish one algor from another, Holli made it a point to do so. During her escort of them from the desert to Connel, she noted the smallest differences. She examined such slight characteristics as the distance between the eyes, the length of their arms, the number of purple spots on their heads, and the hue of the yellow that colored their chests. With such an eye for detail, she was able to distinguish individuals from the ten. "You were also selected by Ryson to be one of the two to enter Sanctum." She looked back at Mappel as if to punctuate a hidden meaning in the selection.
A gleam rose in the elder elf's eye. "More providence."
The cliff behemoth's voice rolled softly over them all. "As I have said, it is the will of Godson."
Stephen and Matthew beamed, and even Holli allowed a smile to cross her lips.
It lasted but a heartbeat, for her face quickly became as stern as it would ever become. The time was near for their ascent of Sanctum, but one last preparation was required. Her eyes stopped checking for signs of danger about them as she fastened them upon Mappel. Her words held the importance of what she was about to request. "It is time you reveal what the elves placed in Sanctum and how we might overcome it."
Mappel looked at his staff and then at the ground. Strange. He had been so willing to speak of the secret, so willing to release it in hopes that others might do the same. In his heart, ending the secrets meant breaking the bonds of the separation. It would represent the key to defeating Sanctum, the sphere, and the tainted magic that spread its curse across the land. But now, now that the time had truly come, he regretted having to speak of it. His lips became tight, as if he needed to consciously force them to mouth his words.
"So it is
," he spoke with a pained tongue. He could say nothing more until he guided Lief and Holli to privacy. They spoke for long moments in guarded whispers.
Lief and Holli made no reaction. They listened intently with focus and concentration. The woods themselves seemed to grow still, and even the wind appeared to silence during this moment of revelation.
Ryson returned from his mission. He immediately noted the overtones of silence. He did not disturb the conference of the elves. He remained in the midst of the others and quietly whispered that all appeared calm.
The three elves turned as Mappel ended his instruction. Lief and Holli moved with the same resolve that brought them to this point, but a thread of gloom hung ever so slightly upon their faces. Some of their spark had faded, and even Holli's eyes revealed a hint of weariness. She attempted to swallow this gloom and fatigue when she again faced the entire group. She was only marginally successful.
"We must move at once," she ordered. "We have done well to reach this point with so much light left in the day. We have been lucky the rain has held to a drizzle. I will not push this luck. Ryson, what is the situation surrounding us?"
"No sign of trouble," he announced.
"Lauren, do you sense anything in these woods?"
The young, budding sorceress cringed, stiffened herself as if she expected pain to erupt through her body. She closed her eyes and stood motionless. Her forehead wrinkled with tension. "There is nothing I sense in the woods, but something waits for us above. It isn't alive but it isn't dead either." She opened her eyes with a start. "I can't tell you what it is."
"It is probably Shayed," Lief noted.
"Probably, but not certainly," Holli said with her usual caution. "We shall remain prepared for something worse. As for those that remain here, leave guards during the night at each direction. You will not have the delver here to alert you, but a poor set of eyes is better than no sight at all."
Delver Magic Book I: Sanctum's Breach Page 40
