by Jeff Inlo
Ryson could feel the path closing around him. In a fit of desperation, he finally managed to slow the horse, but he could already see the end of the trail just ahead—a complete stop surrounded by dead trees trunks and broken limbs. Not a single path existed in any direction other than the way they came. He looked about for a way through the surrounding brush. It was too thick. If he were alone, he might be able to push his way through, but even he couldn't work fast enough to save them all.
With no other recourse, he pulled the war blades from their sheaths and took a defensive position at the rear of the horse. He moved far enough away to be clear of any hind kicks from the panicked animal, but further retreat was no longer possible.
Four tree rakers rambled towards him, completely blocking the only free passage. He wondered if there were more camouflaged in the side brush. In truth, it didn't matter. His blades would not significantly harm the rakers, could not cut through their thick bark-like hides. He could outmaneuver them, even in close quarters, but eventually they would turn on easier prey, take the horse and then Linda. He would die before he allowed that, but in his mind, they were already dead.
Linda tried to turn the horse about, to face the predators head-on, but the passage was too narrow. She nudged the horse forward as far as the animal would go to give Ryson as much room as possible. She looked over her shoulder at first in dismay and then in wonder.
Ryson crouched low, prepared to strike at the lower limbs of the tree rakers. If he kept them off balance, knocked them to the ground, he might frustrate them. It was faint hope, but the only hope he had, until he saw the rustling behind the rakers.
The movement was furious, but in some ways almost gentle. A pair of giant arms locked upon the two rear rakers and lifted them from the ground. Both of the upended creatures were then carefully tossed into soft brush in the distance. Those rakers would free themselves, but it would take some time. They were no longer a threat.
The remaining two rakers turned about. Unwilling to give up their prey, they disregarded the size of the interloper. They ripped at the newcomer with sharp branch-like fingers, but even claws that were sharp as razors could not cut the smooth, but rock-hard hide of their target.
In a desperate attempt, both rakers pressed the full weight of their thick bodies against their unexpected foe, but they would have been more successful trying to crush a boulder. Struggle as they might, they failed in even disturbing their enemy's balance.
Just as the giant took hold of their comrades, powerful hands fell upon the last two rakers and pulled them back down the path. The rakers struggled, but to no avail. Once the narrow passage opened up into several paths, the tree rakers were released and pressed to retreat. The creatures made no further argument and scurried off into the woods.
"You may come out of there now," a soft, reassuring voice called out to Ryson and Linda.
Ryson first moved back to the front of Linda's horse, and guided the animal backward until room allowed for him to turn the stallion about. As they reached the clearing at the end of the passage, Ryson offered his appreciation with great respect.
"You have my thanks. I owe you more than I can say."
"No need for thanks or debts, Ryson Acumen. You are well known to all the cliff behemoths. We all count you as friend to us, and a friend to Godson."
Ryson had met several cliff behemoths in his explorations. This one, however, he did not recognize. They were near the previously arranged meeting point with Dzeb, but not so close he would have expected their assistance. He was grateful, but surprised.
"I don't believe we've met," Ryson explained.
"No, I have not yet had the personal pleasure of your company. I am Elese."
She looked much like Dzeb, only somehow softer. It was difficult for Ryson to determine exactly how that was possible, but he couldn't deny it. In many ways, cliff behemoths looked like giant oblong rocks with arms and legs, and Elese appeared much the same. He doubted anything short of a magical explosion could dent her skin and she appeared as powerful as any behemoth. All cliff behemoths had soft, peaceful eyes, but this one had something more about her. There was something in her expression, a warmth beyond the peaceful ways of the cliff behemoths.
"Well, thank you again. We were in a tight spot."
Elese chuckled pleasantly.
"Yes, a narrow spot indeed. I am surprised you fell into the tree rakers' trap."
Ryson wanted to hide his embarrassment, but he would not lie to a cliff behemoth.
"I was distracted."
"Distracted in the forest is a dangerous thing. It is a good thing Dzeb asked me to venture out and meet you early. I will accompany you to the meeting spot, Godson willing, and we will look out for traps together."
"I'd appreciate that."
They moved slower, but Ryson didn't mind. He was in no hurry to leave Linda. He understood the pressing need of the algors, but he remained torn inside. His inner conflict was more than just a distraction. He was not certain of Enin's plan.
It was only when they finally met Dzeb that his worries lightened. The mighty cliff behemoth was flanked by dozens upon dozens of his brothers and sisters.
Ryson wanted to run up to the mighty behemoth and throw his arms around him, but he contained his jubilation. Instead, he walked up to the giant and bowed his head.
Dzeb reached out a powerful arm and gently rested it upon the delver's shoulder.
"So good to see you again, Ryson Acumen. You are a blessing of Godson."
Every behemoth repeated those last three words in unison.
Dzeb then walked over to the stallion where Linda remained mounted. He placed his hand on the horse's muzzle. The animal pressed its face forward into the hand of the behemoth, grateful to be recognized.
"Do not dismount, ma'am," Dzeb suggested. "We have little time and we know what threatens you. Godson willing, you will be safe with us. We will guide you into the valleys where it remains warmer. The lakes are full as the heavy floods from the thaw have already occurred. There are many fishing shacks that have been abandoned that you can use for shelter. It seems the adventurers who used to travel to our mountains have dwindled since the return of magic. I will give you a moment to speak to your delver, but then we must move to safer lands."
"I'm not sure I'm going to be leaving," Ryson admitted.
Dzeb turned about and looked into the delver's eyes.
"Do you not have another task ahead of you? I thought your help was required in the desert. That is what the wizard informed me."
"That's his plan, not mine."
"And so you withdraw your assistance? That is not like you at all, Delver Acumen."
"I don't know if my assistance is worth that much. Enin probably told you what's happening. It's nothing new."
Dzeb smiled.
"Godson makes everything new. And your aid is a great gift. Have you forgotten all that you have done with Godson's grace?"
Ryson had no intention of debating Dzeb's deeply held beliefs, but he would clearly question his own worth.
"I'm not sure I've done any one any good. What have I really accomplished? A great many people have died, many more have suffered. Looks like there's more suffering to come. If you look back, what I've done doesn't seem to mean much."
Dzeb's smile actually grew.
"You truly are graced by Godson, and it seems you don't even know it. You are learning truths that some take a lifetime to discover. We are often left to our own devices, whether we be man, delver, elf, or cliff behemoth. We do what we can, we do our best, but not everything is up to us."
"Yeah, well is it too much to ask that when we do the right thing that it actually matters?"
Revealing surprise, Dzeb questioned the delver's desires.
"You seek rewards?"
The question and the probing look of the colossus actually stung the delver and he defended his true meaning.
"I don't seek any reward, I just want an end to the struggles."
"That is a reward." Dzeb paused and reconsidered what he believed he saw in the delver. He revealed it freely. "There seems to be doubt in the heart of Ryson Acumen. Welcome to Uton. Welcome to Godson."
Ryson, however, was baffled.
"I have no idea what that means. Am I supposed to?"
"You are a delver, you seek to find answers to mysteries. If that is a mystery to you, then seek the answer."
"The only thing I'm seeking is an explanation as to why we don't seem to get anywhere. I keep fighting the same battles and nothing ever changes."
The giant sighed, but then spoke a simple truth.
"And so you wish to force a change by removing yourself from the struggle?" The titan shook his head in disappointment at the thought. "You do what you must, but if I may offer a bit of wisdom—you are looking at things from a narrow eye. If you wish to use the past to vindicate yourself, then you must consider the entirety of all your actions, both the good and the bad. Do you really wish to base your salvation on everything you have already done and ignore what you still can do? The past is over, but you can control what you do in the present and you can look for light in the future. Let it be Godson's way."
Dzeb walked away without saying anymore, giving Ryson and Linda all the time and privacy they needed.
"So you're just going to stay here?" Linda asked. "I thought we had this settled. Look at how many of them are here just to protect me."
"I don't think it has anything to do with them. It has everything to do with me. Like I said before, I'm tired of things not making any sense. We keep trying to fix things and they keep breaking. I wish it wasn't all so confusing."
"It's only confusing if you look at it in a certain way. We were saved today by a cliff behemoth. I think that's something for you to consider."
"What? You mean like some sort of sign? I didn't think you believed in signs."
"I'm not sure I do, but I do think things happen for a reason. Enin likes to tell us we're not alone, that other powers are always at work."
"Maybe it's just a coincidence."
"Do you think any of these cliff behemoths around us believe in coincidences?"
"No, they don't."
"Then let's trust them and stick with the plan," Linda declared, as if she made the decision for both of them, and in a way, she did.
They said their farewells and then moved in separate directions. Linda went north into the mountains with the cliff behemoths and Ryson began his journey south, back to the Lacobian Desert.
Chapter 16
Running south, an objective in mind but his thoughts diverted to the one he had left behind, Ryson raced past the edges of Dark Spruce, through the badlands, and into the Lacobian Desert. He would not have to waste time searching for the algors. He would head directly to the sandstone cliffs that served as their massive shelter, the central gathering point for the community that all algors belonged.
Distracted, he never saw the sand trap until he was near its edge. The sand formed a hollow depression. The circular cavity consisted of steep downward slopes that led to a dark hole in the center. The creator of the trap compressed the sand with amazing force, packing it tight enough for the surface to become as smooth and slick as wet glass. Once over the edge, a trapped victim would not be able to climb out, for there were no footholds, nothing to grab, just a steep slide into the center abyss.
Ryson tried to stop before passing the trap ledge, but he had too much momentum and it carried him into the crater. Immediately, he accelerated. Using all his speed and agility, he pumped his legs hard down upon the smooth surface. Instead of trying to slow his descent, he increased it, but at an angle away from the center. When he reached a point halfway across as well as halfway down the depression, he reversed the angle upwards. With one mighty thrust against the trap side, he leapt across the remaining space to the opposite side of the crater. He didn't quite make the far ledge, but he ducked his head, tucked his chin deep into his chest, and rolled upward over the edge using the last of his momentum.
He sprang to his feet disgusted with himself.
"That's twice. First the tree rakers and now this," the delver grumbled.
Someone else was not so critical.
"That was marvelous," a voice called out from across the sand.
Ryson kept still except for his eyes. He raised his gaze up over the horizon toward the source of the call. He saw a middle-aged man with a fairly round belly and extremely long, unkempt hair sitting on a rock. The man actually applauded.
"Did you make this?" Ryson asked as he lifted his head toward the man, but made no other abrupt movements.
"Yes, what do you think of it?"
"I think you're a spell caster with too much time on your hands."
"How did you know I made it with a spell? I could have built it with my hands."
Ryson didn't bother to hide his understanding of the man's physical limitations.
"You? Out here in the desert? No magic, just your hands, turning that much sand basically into glass? I don't think so. It's an interesting spell, but maybe you could do something more constructive than creating traps for unsuspecting people. What if an algor fell in there?"
If the man was insulted by Ryson's opinion of his attributes, he didn't reveal it. Instead, he openly boasted of his previous accomplishments.
"Oh, I've caught many algors, but they don't move like you do. They try to claw their way out. Really quite humorous to watch."
Ryson pictured a stunned algor trying to escape the trap. He found nothing funny about the image.
"What happens to them when they hit the hole?" Ryson demanded, not even trying to hide his disapproval.
"Oh, don't be that way. I don't hurt them. It's just a hole that leads to a tunnel. Algors love tunnels. They just have to follow it for a while and it brings them back out over that dune behind me. No harm done, really."
That might have been true, but the trap was an unnecessary hazard. If Ryson had more time, he might have even argued the point. Not wanting to waste any more sunlight with the clearly pointless discussion, Ryson turned to leave. Unfortunately, the spell caster had other ideas.
"You can't be leaving so soon. You just got here."
"I'm afraid I have business elsewhere, so if you'll excuse..."
Before Ryson could finish and return to his travels, the wizard threw his hands together and a red star formed around his hands. A flash of crimson energy raised the rocks and sand completely around the delver. He was enclosed in a circle of compressed sandstone. He could no longer see the sorcerer from his position, but he could still hear him.
"I know you can climb out of there," the wizard called out, "but that's going to be part of the game. Let's play tag."
In but an instant, the annoyed delver took two quick leaps up the enclosure and reached the top of the sandstone prison. He looked over to the rock where the wizard had been sitting, but he was gone.
"I'm not playing tag," Ryson said mostly to himself, and then turned his attention to his southwestward path.
He started running again, but nowhere near top speed. He didn't want to carelessly fall into another trap. He simply wished to be on his way and put the entire encounter behind him. He didn't get far before the voice called to him again.
"Looks like you don't want to play. I don't like that."
At first, Ryson didn't care what the sorcerer liked or didn't like, but then another flash of red energy altered his consideration for the spell caster. The sorcerer was more than a persistent pest. He was quickly becoming an obstructing nuisance as another spell enveloped the ground around the delver.
The ground broke away at Ryson's feet—not into a hole or crater, but rather into uneven dips and slants. It almost appeared like a broken staircase created by a deranged mind. It led downward into a new dark hole that appeared to be nothing more than another tunnel entrance.
Rather than lose his balance, Ryson initially followed the awkward steps downward. Afte
r a half dozen steps, however, he vaulted off a section of the broken rock and back to safer ground up near the top of the uneven steps.
He was about to call out to the magic caster to cease his madness, but another spell altered his footing once more. The ground rose up carrying the delver with it. It continued to rise like a long pole reaching for the sun. It ascended at an incredible rate and Ryson was soon far above the surrounding desert, perched on a small platform of stone.
Shaking his head in disgust, the delver dropped from his platform and threw both arms around the pole. Rather than slide straight down, he circled about the shaft to control his descent. He hoped this was the last of the spells for his patience was all but gone.
He was about halfway down when the pole ceased growing upward from the ground. Instead, it turned from hard stone into loose sand. Ryson was left without support as the sand gave way in his hands.
As his fall accelerated, he shifted his entire body into the shaft of quickly eroding sand. The breaking pole did not dissolve away all at once. It disintegrated slowly and so it slowed his fall. More importantly the growing pile of sand at the bottom offered a soft cushion for him to land. He rolled with his impact and up onto his feet.
"That was even more impressive than avoiding the sand trap," the spell caster called out, apparently hiding behind rocks in front of the delver. "Still, I keep tagging you, and you haven't tagged me yet."
Ryson frowned, but said nothing. He tensed and appeared to focus on the rocks where the spell caster hid. He took off in a blur, as if to charge the prankster. He hoped to startle the sorcerer into thinking he was going to attack, but immediately changed direction to his left. He had no intention of playing any games with a lunatic who was wasting his time. He doubled his speed and became a dazzling display of intense movement.
