Delver Magic Book II: Throne of Vengeance

by Jeff Inlo

  Chapter 21

  Heavy footfalls, a pause, and finally, a resounding crash, as if lightning had struck within a hair's breadth away. The massive stone door crumbled to an ash like substance. Its destruction created a curtain of gray and black dust that swirled about the broken edges of the cell entrance.

  Ryson did not expect that much power from a sand giant. He wondered as to how many waited behind the cloud of near microscopic debris. Perhaps as many as four had struck together, but his sharp eyes seized only the silhouette of a single giant crouched over nearly in half in the doorway.

  Its colossal shape quickly extinguished any thought that this might have been a dwarf action. Ryson could do nothing else but believe they now faced the threat of the sand giants coming for Jon. His keen hearing had picked up the sounds of battle, even deep within this stone prison. Knowing of the algors intentions, he simply assumed the sand giants were now fulfilling their purpose.

  In a heartbeat, he pranced past the giant with a dazzling display of speed and agility. Once beyond the first sentinel that obliterated the door, he scanned the corridors to assess the threat. The halls were empty. No other sand giants appeared. No dwarf sentries, dead or alive.

  Mystifying.

  He expected greater signs of a struggle, more sand giants, the battered bodies of dwarf guards.

  His bafflement expanded as his own quick instincts forced him to take a second look at the giant he had passed. The double-take proved colossal in revelation. This was no sand giant. Its hide was harder than sandstone, darker in color than the sandy tan, and it wore a tunic of brown and green.

  "Dzeb?" Ryson mouthed in weary disbelief.

  "It is good to see you well, Ryson Acumen," the titan responded with a soft voice that was so uncharacteristic of this mighty being.

  "You’re here?! What's going on?" Ryson mumbled trying desperately to reorganize events in his mind.

  "I am here to help, myself and many others. Let us first see to our friends and then I will explain."

  Dzeb left a dazzled and bewildered delver in the corridor as he stepped, or actually perhaps crawled would be a better description, into the cell. The doorway in its original form would not have allowed access, but Dzeb pressed through with little care to the tight fit. The outline of the passage was left much larger after he had passed. Once within the cell, he had greater room to move, though he remained hunched over so as not to scrape his head on the stone ceiling. He nodded a greeting to the elf.

  "Godson's blessing upon you, Lief Woodson. It is good to see you as well. You are not hurt, I pray?"

  Lief could not hide his smile. "No, I'm fine. You are indeed a welcome sight. We had expected sand giants."

  Dzeb's expression turned cold, but only for an instant. "Those insults to Godson have been removed. That threat is gone and there is no need to speak of it further."

  As if the statement cleared his own pain, Dzeb again beamed with the purity and grace gifted to the cliff behemoths. "You look much better than when last I saw you. The poison of the sphere had taken its toll upon you before it was destroyed. I am happy that you have recovered so thoroughly."

  "It did not take much. Just the removal of the sphere. I'm sorry you left before I woke up. I would have liked the chance to say good-bye."

  "Why? We see each other now. Godson has taught us that there is no need for farewells. We part and we return. That is the way until we are all brought together in His final judgment."

  "That may be so, but I still would have liked to thank you."

  "You have done so."

  The delver could no longer allow this near idle banter to continue. His mind was froth with confusion. He expected sand giants. Instead, he now beheld Dzeb; not an unwelcome sight, but the cliff behemoth had earlier refused his call for help. A hundred questions circled his every thought, and he jumped into the conversation with unbridled curiosity as to these passing events.

  "What's been happening out there? I've been hearing things, I figured sand giants were moving through, but now I'm not sure what's going on. You said you removed the threat. Did the sand giants attack? Was that what I heard?"

  Dzeb answered somberly. "Your hearing is as keen as always, my friend. Those abominable creations had been loose in the city. I am afraid there has been much loss. Many dwarves have perished." His voice thickened, grew as if his own faith had been reaffirmed. "But there will be no more loss on this day to those abominations."

  "You destroyed them?"

  "There were but a few remaining when I entered this palace. I am sure the others have taken care of them by now."

  "How did you know to find us here?"

  "The elf guard named Holli told us you might be held in the palace prison. She requested I see to your release."

  Ryson felt his heart skip. "You spoke to Holli? You were in Burbon? What's happening there? Is everything alright?"

  "I have spoken to your friend, Sy Fenden," Dzeb replied. His voice was reassuring, soft as gentle cotton. "He wished me to give you a message. The town was attacked, there have been losses, but Burbon has been saved. They fought off the dwarf attack, held the town of your home. There is need for repair, but they have survived. Also, a woman named Linda is in fine health."

  Ryson twisted with relief as well as agony. He beamed at Linda's name. He found joy to hear Sy had sent him word, but the thought of losses curbed his jubilation. He blurted out questions without pause to breath. "What about Enin? How bad was the town damaged? How did Holli look to you? Was she hurt at all?"

  "I do not know of the one called Enin, but the elf named Holli was well when I spoke to her. I noticed no injury."

  Dzeb cut himself off. He turned his head as he gazed deeper into the cave. His eyes fell upon a slumped figure that showed little sign of life. "Is that Prince Jon Folarok of the dwarves?"

  Lief's voice turned grave. "It is. Actually, it's King Jon Folarok, or it was before his mother took his throne and threw him down here."

  "There is only one throne that is of importance, and that throne belongs to Godson," Dzeb reminded gently but firmly.

  Lief did not attempt to enter a philosophical or religious debate with the cliff behemoth.

  Ryson spoke up with obvious impatience. Thoughts of Burbon now weighed upon him. He wished to leave quickly to survey the damage for himself. He quickly advised Dzeb of Jon's personal torment. "Jon didn't want any throne. Now, he's lost. He just sits there, clinging to the emptiness. He doesn't react to anything I say anymore. He seems to have lost the will to live."

  "That is a gift too precious to throw away." Dzeb walked determinedly over to the slumped dwarf. He looked upon Jon with eyes of sorrow. He shook his head slightly.

  The dwarf showed no sign of acknowledging the magnificent being that stood before him. As Ryson had explained, he clung to the shadows of his escape, the darkness of nothing. Like a clump of partially molded clay, the dwarf sat unmoving with little to reveal any light of consciousness.

  "Do you give up on life?" Dzeb questioned almost sternly.

  The dwarf did not respond.

  "You wish to waste away? Give up the gift Godson has bestowed upon you?"

  Again, silence.

  Ryson and Lief watched, wondering what power the cliff behemoth might display, hoping the force of Dzeb's religion might sway the dwarf back into reality. They waited for Dzeb to lift the dwarf with mesmerizing words, to raise him with glory filled hands. Ryson, for the moment, forgot about Burbon. The desire to watch the cliff behemoth melted his other curiosities. He waited with hope. He would not have been surprised had the very rock opened overhead to bring down cascading lights of miracle.

  Strangely, Dzeb walked away, no other words, no miracle. Jon remained detached from reality. He made no reaction in the presence of the cliff behemoth, and did not stir at Dzeb's departure. He remained a shell; breathing, heart beating, eyes open, but unaware and uncaring for his surroundings.

 
Ryson's words revealed his own distress. He approached the cliff behemoth with a plea in his heart. "Can't you help him?"

  "I can not," Dzeb replied.

  "Can not, or will not?" Ryson pressed.

  "There is nothing I can do," Dzeb replied gloomily. "If I could help, I would."

  Dzeb's expression sent daggers into Ryson's soul. He nearly groaned at the pain in Dzeb's words. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean that. It's just that when I asked you to help us stop Yave, you wouldn't because you wanted a clear sign from Godson. I wondered if you might be doing the same now."

  "Godson gives us all free will to choose," Dzeb stated almost diplomatically. "Jon has chosen to withdraw."

  "So what's going to happen to him?"

  "I do not know."

  Lief offered the only possible alternative for the moment. "Why don't we try getting him out of here? Perhaps, if we take him from this miserable cell, it might revive him to some degree."

  "That's a good idea," Ryson chimed. At that moment, the delver felt the pull of many things. He wanted to survey the damage done to Dunop. He also wondered of Yave's reaction to the entrance of the cliff behemoths. Questions on each of these counts plagued him mercilessly. Leaving this dungeon was the first step in gaining knowledge toward all these mysteries. He motioned to Dzeb. "Can you carry him? I doubt he'll want to move on his own."

  Dzeb simply nodded. He moved back to the dwarf and lifted him gently from the slab. He carried the dwarf in his arms as if walking with a sleeping puppy.

  "Where shall we take him?"

  "I guess we should return to the throne room," the delver suggested. "We can retrieve my sword. I also want you to speak to Yave, if of course you're willing. I'm assuming you came here to do more than just beat up on sand giants."

  "I will speak to the queen," Dzeb said as if there would be no question to this.

  Ryson eyed the cliff behemoth with a raised eyebrow. Yet another mystery now entered his mind, a mystery regarding the cliff behemoths very presence, a mystery which pushed other curiosities from his mind. Again, he rattled off questions. "Why did you show up here? When I last spoke to you, you believed you shouldn't get involved. What made you change your mind? And why did you bring others? If you were so hard to convince, how was it they were willing?"

  Dzeb remained silent. He stood as if the delver had not even questioned him. He waited for the delver to move forward while all the time holding the dwarf with steady hands.

  The delver assumed he had confused the titan with too many questions at once. He repeated the simplest, yet broadest, of the queries. "Why did you change your mind and come to help us?"

  The cliff behemoth did not answer.

  The delver's curiosity jumped a hundredfold. "Dzeb?"

  Still, no answer.

  The delver would not move from the cell, his impatience to leave now dissipated in the face of a new and growing mystery. He pressed for an answer. His delver spirit of interest mounted with each passing moment of silence. "Well? I didn't think you wanted to involve yourself in the affairs of others. You said it wasn't your right, that you would need guidance from Godson. How did he guide you?"

  Dzeb still would not reply.

  The continued lack of a response pushed Ryson into a fury of inquisitiveness. He attempted to pull answers from the cliff behemoth by circumventing the original question. He searched for a question which would at the very least elicit some kind of verbal reply.

  "You came to speak to Yave and stop the war, right?"

  "This violence must not continue," Dzeb finally answered.

  Ryson pounced on the titan's answer. "You didn't think you should get involved before, but that's obviously changed. I take it that means you will see this to an end? You will continue until the war is finally stopped?"

  Dzeb nodded patiently. "The dwarves must stop attacking others, and others must cease their attacks upon the dwarves. This clash began because of false blame, a thirst for vengeance, and a mountain of misplaced hate. Each opposes the very teachings of Godson Himself."

  "And that's why you finally intervened? Because the war began because of things which opposed Godson?"

  Again, Dzeb did not answer.

  Ryson waited only for a moment. When he realized Dzeb would not reply, he quickly turned to other questions.

  "You didn't come alone. You said other cliff behemoths came to help. I can only guess that they think the violence has to stop as well. Is that true?"

  "Yes," Dzeb answered. "Many cliff behemoths understood the need."

  "Who said there was a need?"

  "You did," Dzeb nodded back to the delver.

  Ryson found the reply surprising, but continued to press forward. "But that didn't work when I first spoke to you. What changed your mind?"

  "Maybe it is best you don't know."

  Ryson stood aghast. "What?"

  Dzeb looked deeply into Ryson, looked with compassion, but with no less conviction for his own decision. "I understand that being a delver you are naturally inquisitive about everything. This, however, may be something which should remain a mystery."

  Ryson's eyes shot open wide. "You can't be serious?!"

  "I am very serious."

  Ryson could not have this. He needed to know. He immediately searched for other alternatives. He blurted one out in hopes of forcing an answer from the cliff behemoth before him. "I could ask the other cliff behemoths."

  "I will ask you not to do that."

  "Why?"

  "I do not wish you to ask them. It is a delicate matter. I'm asking as a friend that you honor this request."

  The response caged the delver. He groped for a way out. "That doesn't make any sense."

  "Do you decline this request of mine?"

  Ryson shook his head with uncertainty. The mere thought of denying Dzeb filled him with guilt, but he direly wanted to know why the cliff behemoth had changed his mind. "If you don't want me to ask them, I won't. I owe you that, at the very least. But I don't understand. Why shouldn't I know this?" The last was nearly a plea for mercy, as if Dzeb was sentencing the delver to an unfit punishment.

  Dzeb paused. He almost frowned as he considered a way to enlighten the delver. Finally, and after much apparent consternation, he spoke with renewed conviction. "What would you think if I told you Godson had sent a message to us, instructing us to help you?"

  Ryson took but a moment to consider the question. He answered quickly, hoping to get to the truth and not play with assumptions. "I don't know. I guess I would think the war was getting out of hand and that it was time to be stopped. Is that ..."

  Dzeb pressed forward. He wanted the delver to truly contemplate such a significant occurrence. "Think carefully. Do not end with that simple answer. Consider completely what it might mean if I told you Godson Himself sent a message. Whether you believe in the word or not, you must consider this carefully. What would that mean to you? What would be the potential if others thought that way? Every time there would be a conflict in the future, you would think to rely on some sign from the heavens to tell you when you have gone too far. That is not the way it should be. All the races of this land must learn to rely on their own judgment, their own decisions."

  Dzeb held up a finger to halt the delver from asking another question. He wanted the delver to consider the full measure of his point. "Before you speak, let me pose the other possibility. What would you think if I said Godson did not send a message; if the cliff behemoths intervened at their own discretion?"

  Ryson again answered quickly, hoping to pry the ultimate truth from the cliff behemoth. "I would be happy to hear it. I wanted you to stop this war, remember?"

  "But again, how would you feel about the future? Would you begin to worry about how else we might involve ourselves in your affairs?"

  The question centered upon Ryson's own previous considerations. The possibility of cliff behemoths intervening at their own discretion might indeed ha
ve dire consequences. Yes, today it stopped a war, it stopped a tragedy. But who was to say how the cliff behemoths might intrude in other ways? They had the power to rule with absolute authority, to become dictators. Would that truly be a welcome thought? That consideration had indeed invaded the delver's thoughts before. He spoke of such thoughts with the reader Matthew. Would this truly be a blessing, or a curse?

  "I don't know what to say to that," Ryson answered honestly. "I know I'm grateful you helped today. We needed your help."

  "Then let it end with that," Dzeb counseled.

  Ryson shifted his weight. That conclusion did not sit well with him. It left a hole in his being. Without an answer, he was incomplete.

  "Perhaps it is time we moved forward," Lief finally intervened. "We gain nothing by standing here debating philosophical questions."

  At first, the delver did not move. He searched for one last question, one last thought which might shed a new light upon the matter. He found nothing.

  "Ryson?" Lief nudged.

  "Sorry," Ryson responded. He did his best to wipe the burden from his thoughts. He attempted to focus on other pressing needs. He thought of Burbon, of Linda and Sy. He wished to see them. He thought of Dunop and Yave. He wondered how the dwarves fared against the sand giants and how the queen would deal with the appearance of Dzeb and the other cliff behemoths.

  With new questions replacing the old, he moved quickly into the empty corridor. "I saw before that no one was down here. Are there any threats we should know about?"

  "I sent the dwarf guards away," Dzeb replied with simplicity. "I did not think it was wise to leave a potential conflict when they saw their prisoners freed."

  "Did the guards leave when you asked them to, or did they resist?" the elf asked with his own curiosity as to dwarf stubbornness in the face of a cliff behemoth.

  "They took leave." Dzeb did not give a description as to the guards’ manner in retreat.

  The delver took the lead. His memory of the corridors remained as strong as if he had just walked them. He nimbly took to the stairs and led the group out of the palace depths.

  A few palace guards took to posts near the throne room, but made no attempt to stop them. The simple sight of the cliff behemoth left them in uncertain awe. They realized it was these titans that had saved Dunop. Even the sight of the elf and the delver roaming free could not sway the dwarves into attacking the behemoth.

  Ryson pushed into the throne room with authority of his own. He ignored the guards at the door, not even giving them a glance. He stepped back into the room like a returning hero, and to his liking, he spotted Yave upon the throne.

  The queen sat rigid. Cold emotion bit at her cheeks. Her eyes swooped over them all; Ryson, Lief, Dzeb, and the near lifeless hulk of Jon's body. If she cared even slightly for Jon's welfare, it did not show. She viewed them all as enemies, even the cliff behemoth. In her eyes, Dzeb did not save Dunop. No, he thwarted her moment of vindication, ripped the honor of destroying the sand giants from her very grasp. Her anger remained, her thirst for retribution unfulfilled.

  Ryson grunted. Nothing would get through to this woman. Nothing would break the grip of her hate. He felt pity for her, nothing more.

  He would waste little more time or emotion on this depraved queen. He no longer cared to try and influence her convictions or change her decision. That was simply no longer necessary. The war was officially over. The cliff behemoths would take care of ending the hostilities, of that he was certain.

  He turned his attention to a more personal matter. He looked to a cloak on the floor and moved to it with the grace of a floating feather. With fluidity, he pulled the cover off the sword. Light filled the chamber and all welcomed it, all save Yave, who actually turned her gaze away from the delver. The light did not bring physical pain to her eyes, but it sparked memories that burned her core.

  Ryson noticed the queen's reaction, but he would not sheath the talisman. He held it aloft with pride.

  With the hilt firmly in his grasp, a warmth spread through his body. The sword's power reached into his consciousness. It seized upon the very questions which previously haunted him. It gave him nearly every answer he required. He saw the damage to Burbon as well as the casualties to the dwarf army. He saw how Yave waited for the sand giants that never came. He saw the cliff behemoths before they left their mountains. He saw how they left, when they left, but he could not see why they left. Their own personal intentions were blocked from him, and perhaps this was best. With this vision, he gained even greater perspective. Lief was right. The sword revealed knowledge, but it would not, could not, reveal the intentions behind such knowledge.

  Ryson beheld the enchanted weapon with greater respect and appreciation for this power. He considered its effect on the queen and how he felt it failed to save the land. He knew now that it had never failed in its true magical purpose, for it was never meant for such use. It was not an item of such enchantment that it could sway the beliefs of another, or that it could alter preference, or even prejudice. It decreed fact, nothing more and nothing less. Further interpretation was left to the possessor. Perhaps, that is the way it was meant to be. Free will, both to choose and to think. Of course, free will would only go so far with the cliff behemoths on the matter of this particular war, and Dzeb spoke with such authority.

  "These attacks of yours will end," Dzeb commanded.

  Yave almost erupted with fury. She would not take orders from anyone, not even a cliff behemoth. One glance, however, at the other dwarves that had gathered in the chamber brought her hesitation. In an instant, she realized that the cliff behemoth had seized her power, the power of command over her own kind. They would listen to him, not her. Her options dwindled like melting ice upon the sun.

  Dzeb continued with disregard to Yave's stern demeanor. "You had no right to attack the algors. They caused you no pain. You had no right to attack the humans of Connel or Burbon, or the elves of Dark Spruce. Your anger breeds hate, and your hate opposes the will of Godson. This will come to an end."

  Yave managed to ask one simple question. "And if I refuse?"

  "That is your right. You may choose to oppose Godson and continue the path you have forged, but that truth will be known. There will be no further question as to why you struggle. There will be no question as to which side you draw your alliances. What dwarf will follow you on such a path? What city would remain your captive? The magic has returned to Uton and with it many dark creatures. They would oppose the will of Godson to the end of their days. You would be one with them. Is that your choice?"

  Yave folded her hands and bowed her head. She hid the twisted contortions of her face, but the uncontrollable shaking of her body was clear for all to witness. In a fit of pure fury, she bolted from her chair and out of the throne room.

  Dzeb did not watch her leave. He placed Jon upon the vacated throne. Even as the dwarf body slumped sideways over the chair arm, he turned and gestured to the other dwarves.

  "Follow her as you will, but know that her claims are false. The algors did not take her first son from her. The humans, the elves, the delvers; they are not your enemies. The enemy to us all is the darkness she chases. That is her path, let us pray that it will not be yours."

  Dzeb turned and left. He made no motion of farewell to anyone, not to Lief, and not to Ryson.

  Ryson watched the back of the cliff behemoth until it turned out of sight. "No need for goodbyes, I guess. But I have to tell you, it's hard to watch him leave."

  Uncertainty replaced the emptiness caused by Dzeb's departure. The dwarves lacked a leader. The diminutive citizens of Dunop had no one to guide them, no true path to follow. The separatists had removed those that followed the monarchy, and now the separatists had been scourged of power, partially by the humans at Burbon and completely by the sand giants here in Dunop. The dwarf army was simply no more. No generals, no War Com. Bol was gone, Strog was gone, Yave was gone. Jon remained, but so too di
d the self-imposed trance which left him disjointed from reality.

  Ryson looked to Lief with concern. He nodded to Jon who remained in his unconscious state. "What's going to happen now?"

  "I can not guess," the elf replied stoically. "I assume the cliff behemoths have removed the threat of the sand giants. I can only assume further that the next move rests with the dwarves themselves. That is basically what Dzeb said. It is their choice."

  Ryson looked expectantly to the group of dwarf guards, sentries, and advisors. "Well?"

  No one answered.

  Ryson shrugged. He decided to put the question before them as simply as possible. "Is there anyone here that still wants war? Anyone that wants to challenge what the cliff behemoth said? Everybody else wants this to end. I know Burbon doesn't want this to continue. Is there still one among you that wishes to continue the war against the algors, or the humans, or the elves?"

  The dwarves looked at the delver. They looked at each other blankly. Some shook their heads in dissent, some remained still, but no one put forth a challenge of continuing the hostilities.

  Ryson found the near noncommittal response rather frustrating, but accepted the unenthusiastic answer nonetheless. "Good. I'll take that to mean you want to live in peaceful coexistence with the rest of us. I will give that word to Burbon."

  "And I will bring such news to my camp," Lief added. "We will leave you now. You have much to discuss and much to determine. You must also look to the health of your king. We will leave him in your care hoping that you realize he also did not commit any crimes." The elf then motioned for Ryson. "It's time for us to leave."

  Ryson looked to Lief uncomfortably. He walked out of the throne room but hesitated in the corridors. "Is that it?"

  "What else can we do?"

  "I don't know, but it doesn't seem like we're finished." Ryson lingered near the door. "Maybe something more should be said. So much has happened. We were at war. Now we think it's over and we just walk away? We're walking out of here with really no idea of what's going to happen next."

  "They are in a state of complete turmoil. I doubt they know what they will do next."

  "That's what has me worried. They don't have a leader, we don't know if Jon will recover, we don't know where Yave went. We really don't know much of anything. Nothing feels complete. It's like nothing has been settled."

  "That is how war often leaves things," Lief responded rather profoundly. "We can do nothing more here. Any action you might see as helpful will only be looked upon as meddling. We must leave them to their own affairs and hope they will not send their army against anyone else."

  "They won't do that," Ryson stated suddenly. "Not for a while at least."

  Lief looked to the delver with interest. "How can you sound so sure of this?"

  "Their army has been destroyed. You'll see when we get outside. I just know. The sword showed me."

  The two, however, did not reach the exterior of the palace before another calamity hit the dwarves of Dunop. A winded sentry raced past the two and stumbled into the throne room. Though his speed was nearly inconsequential to the eyes of the delver, his anguish was not. The delver ignored any thought of leaving this matter to the dwarves. He turned and moved back to the area of gathered dwarves. He heard the announcement with them, but his expression carried even greater fear, greater comprehension of the nightmare.

  "Shadow seeds!" the sentry cried through deep breaths. "Dropping down all over the city. Trees are already growing!"