Delver Magic Book II: Throne of Vengeance

by Jeff Inlo

  Chapter 22

  Stunned silence. Every dwarf in the chamber understood the depth of what they now faced; a box of nightmares had been opened. The shadow tree was the weapon of pure dread, a curse of excruciating painful death. Shadow tree seeds had been used only once before, during the last great war between the elves and dwarves. The magically altered trees devoured an entire city before the dwarves sealed the atrocities in a sarcophagus of rock. They had not been used again, but their legacy remained etched in dwarf history.

  The very thought of facing this horror sapped resolve even as it instilled gut-wrenching panic. Trepidation bounded full enough to wash away the fatigue of every calamity already faced that day, but the overwhelming terror slowed the dwarves' initial reaction. Palace guards waited for orders, but there was no one to give them. Ministers and advisors looked about in lost confusion. It was never their lot to make final decisions, only to give opinions. There was only one in the room with the true authority of rule, but if Jon understood the harsh dilemma Dunop now faced, it only served to drag him further into his lifeless trance.

  With no other alternative, advisors mumbled their only thoughts as if hoping to draw a group consensus.

  "We should send out guards to gather up the seeds quickly, before they start to grow," one offered. "We can bring them to the surface, make them whither in the daylight."

  "It's too late," the warning sentry advised. "The seeds are already starting to grow. The raiding goblins took many of our light gems. Most of the city is almost completely dark. As soon as the seeds hit the ground they are shooting up into saplings. They are not big enough to attack us yet, but they will be before we can stop them."

  "How many seeds were dropped?" an advisor asked with halting breaths.

  "Hundreds. Who knows?"

  "We should evacuate immediately, seal off every tunnel as we leave."

  Another advisor bore a painful truth. "We can't leave. We have no where to go. No neighboring city will have us. The separatist revolt, remember?"

  A collective groan echoed through the chamber.

  Fear bore desperate options. "Then we must flee to the surface." But these words held little resolution. Life above ground amounted to near torture.

  Again, silence prevailed.

  One guard finally offered a defeated suggestion. "We can attempt to burn the trees. It is our only chance."

  Lief barged into the room revealing truths already known to the dwarves. "You can't burn the trees. Flames won't hurt them once they begin to grow. You can only stop them with sunlight."

  Many of the dwarves stared angrily at the elf. They immediately connected him with the seeds. Like jackals, they sneered.

  "He is responsible," one accused. "His camp must have dropped the seeds upon us."

  Without Dzeb's presence, the dwarf guards now moved without hesitation upon the elf. They turned their fear into anger and focused it upon their target. They were slow and plodding but they outnumbered Lief by a wide margin. They ultimately surrounded him and took hold of his limbs. They threatened to pull him apart in a fit of anger.

  Ryson roared above the din. "Take your hands off him!"

  The dwarves paused but did not release the elf.

  The delver persisted. "I have the means to save you, but only when you let him go."

  Still, the dwarves retained their grip. "What can you do?" one barked.

  Ryson pointed his sword at the heart of the questioning dwarf. "My sword magnifies daylight. I can use it to burn the trees, or I can use it to fight you and free my friend. Which will you have?"

  A group of dwarves moved toward the delver. The sword might indeed hold their salvation, and they considered taking it for their own.

  Ryson leapt clear in a blur of motion that dazzled the dwarves. "Don't be fools. You can't move quick enough to save your whole city. I can, but I won't until you let him go."

  "You will promise to destroy the trees?"

  "I'll promise to try. And I'll need his help as well. He's the only other one here fast enough to help scout the city."

  The dwarves held little in the way of options. Reluctantly, they released the elf, though most did so with a shove.

  Lief boiled over. "I did not drop the seeds on your stubborn heads, you damned moles. I came here to stop it, came here to end the war before it came to this."

  Ryson called out sternly. "Lief! Not now. I need your help."

  Lief glared at the surrounding dwarves.

  Again, the delver pressed the urgent need upon the elf. "There's no time for that. We have to work while the sun's still up. As long as light comes through the tunnels, we have a chance. Once night falls, it'll be all over."

  Lief straightened, pushed the thought of the dwarves' aggressiveness from his mind. "What is it you suggest?"

  Ryson spoke quickly. "Pinpoint each seed, each growing tree. I can use the beam of light from the sword’s tip to disintegrate them. It's the only chance."

  Lief nodded. "You will have to move quickly."

  "I plan to, but I'll still need help. I'm going to move north first, then come back and take the east, then the south. I want you to go east first, make a preliminary scout. Find where the seeds were dropped. They had to come from air holes or tunnels from above. Look for them. Find them and mark them for me so I can see them from a distance, a signal fire is your best bet. The more searching you do, the less I have to." Ryson then turned to the dwarves. "You had a good idea before. Pick up the seeds that haven't grown or the saplings that are still small enough to handle. Get them topside. The more you can help the better. And get all the light gems you can back in place. We need every little bit of sunlight we can get."

  Ryson didn't wait for an acknowledgment, he simply dashed off down the hall. The beacon of his sword flashed through the corridors like a spear of lightning. Once beyond the palace doors, the delver turned north. He didn't need the sun overhead to tell him east from west. He didn't need landmarks as a reference. He simply knew which way to turn. He rushed up the streets like an unbridled horse. His head swerved on his neck, constantly searching for signs of the trees. He spotted the first cluster almost immediately.

  "Godson!" The sight chilled him, revived his memories of Sanctum's bowels. Shadow trees - the name was perfect in description. Silhouettes of dead gnarled trees, black as tar and as lifeless as ashes, thirsted for life in the darkness of an alleyway. The cluster blanketed the width of the street. They spread like oozing sludge. They grew before his eyes. Small shoots of new branches groped for the darkness. He shivered. Thankfully, none had yet reached full size. The tallest was not yet above his own height, but even at this stunted dimension, they stood like breeders of corruption.

  He forced himself to step up to this orchard of disease. Reluctance gripped him, slowed his every step. He finally stopped within an arm's length of the closest tree.

  "Please let this work," he prayed.

  He pointed the very tip of the sword toward the closest sapling. The branches were already retracting from the sword's glow. When the tightly wound beam from the sword's point blazed into the thicket, the thin trunks began to scatter.

  Another sickening sight. These trees had no roots, nothing to bolt them into the ground. When they felt the burn of magnified daylight, they scurried for the shelter of darkness. The moved like wounded, mutated spiders, leaving slogging trails of black filth.

  Ryson gagged, had he eaten in the past few hours, he would have lost his meal. His stomach, however, was already empty, and in this, he found solace. He turned his full focus to his intended task. He used his great speed to circle the scattering trees. He herded them back into a tight cluster. He then brought the full force of light upon them, one by one.

  They began to sizzle and burn, and finally, thankfully, disintegrate into thick black smoke. The smell was horrendous, like old garbage cooking over lava.

  He gagged again, but his arm remained steady. The laser thin be
am shooting off the point swooped like a wand through the thicket. The trees could not escape. They dwindled in number. Ryson continued to circle about the dark grove, continued to keep each tree under his attack. There was no sound other than the hissing burn. Soon, he had eliminated the entire mass. He kicked at the remnants. Nothing remained but dirt and soot.

  "Thank Godson!" He heaved relief for only a moment. The task ahead was daunting. He would return later to make sure nothing else grew, but he knew there were more groupings in the darkness elsewhere. He continued his northward trek. He quickly found another cluster. He also found greater distress and increased danger. The next grove contained more trees with larger trunks. The reach of the branches expanded. With each second in darkness, the trees were growing taller and more powerful. He turned his sword upon them. They rescinded from the initial burst of light, burned with the same intensity, but now they showed a willingness to fight back. Branches swooped down and around the beam. They groped for the delver with the same tenacity in which they sought the darkness. Black sludge dropped into thick puddles as skeletal branches flung outward in an attempt to dislodge the sword from the delver's hands.

  Ryson was forced to dodge as he circled the trees. Only his tremendous speed kept him alive. As he continued the assault, more than one lunged for him. Thick trunks, spindly branches; the trees attacked with their entire form in a final effort for survival.

  The delver faced these new circumstances with grim anticipation for the continued conflict. He understood his dilemma, all too well. The darkness of the city was allowing the trees to grow as fast as he could move. The time spent on destroying a single grove would allow each remaining group to grow larger and deadlier. He wondered how long it would take before the trees would encompass too much space for him to destroy.

  "I'm going to need more light," the delver professed heavily.

  As if an answer to his wish, the glow from the city streets began to increase. The delver did not slow in his attack, but the welcome illumination did not escape him.

  "Light gems," Ryson stated with renewed optimism. He danced lively about the dense formation of trees as he smiled at the slowly appearing outline of his own shadow. "I hope the dwarves have more."

  Indeed they did, for the faint glow seemed to increase gently with each passing moment. Obviously the dwarves were hard at work around the city replacing light gems at all corridors and airshafts. Sunlight began to bounce off the polished stone that surrounded the entire city. It was not enough to truly hurt the trees, but it slowed their growth. It also served to increase the power of the one weapon that could destroy them.

  The enhanced light was magnified by the delver's sword. The beam from the point grew brighter and longer, a laser of pure sunlight. It cut through the trees with greater efficiency. Even as the trees had grown more resistant, they could not withstand the growing intensity of this beam. They could not outmaneuver the delver, and they could not block the devastating burn of their only weakness. They withered and steamed instantly.

  Ryson delighted in the change of momentum. With the power of his sword increased, he found even greater energy. He moved with the swiftness of a hurricane wind, a speed which only could be surpassed by the light itself. He destroyed a collection of over a dozen trees in but a heartbeat.

  Ryson pressed onward, moving at speeds beyond the comprehension of the dwarves that watched him. He covered the underground granite streets with jumps and bounds. He darted about, shifting and leaping, turning and twisting. If not for the glowing blade of his sword, he might as well have been invisible. As long as he moved, and he moved almost constantly, the glowing blade served as the only beacon of his presence. He paused only when first confronting a cluster of trees. After a near instantaneous inspection, his legs would again carry him with perfect balance as he circled the trees like a controlled tornado.

  His mind kept a complete picture of the area he covered. He never doubled over previously scouted roads, and he never missed even a single back alley. He moved with all the grace and precision that was his to command. He covered the northern section of the city, then the eastern boundaries. His task was made easier here by the signal fires set earlier by Lief. His assault was complete in both these areas. No seeds and no saplings survived.

  Still, Dunop was no small city and the trees would not die without a struggle. Halfway into the confrontation, the tide of battle again turned, this time against the delver. The trees began to respond to the attacks before the delver could close upon them. As if they realized their plight, they began to scatter as soon as they could move, fleeing from the delver's sword and the death it would bring them.

  Ryson now faced tracking down individual trees as opposed to massacring groups. This slowed him greatly. The beam of his sword was now focusing on single trunks rather than bunches of them. He was also forced into racing back and forth over the same streets as he attempted to annihilate each fleeing tree.

  The new tactic flustered Ryson, frustrated him. He felt as if he was chasing his tail. Worse, he began to fear that in his haste, he might miss a tree. Such a mistake would hold dire consequences. A single tree would grow rapidly in the pure dark of night and would drop more seeds to produce more trees well before morning. The trees had to be destroyed now, all of them. He called for the assistance of surrounding dwarves. He needed them to watch for even one tree that might evade his own keen detection.

  The dwarves assisted to the best of their ability. Their own eyesight, keen in the dim light, proved invaluable. They guided the delver to many breakaway trees. They used their diminutive size as well. They scouted low grounds and pointed out areas the delver might have otherwise overlooked.

  Ryson began to feel a dull ache in his legs and a sharper pain in his side. He was finally tiring, but there was still roughly a third of the city left to scour. He bit back his pain, but he could not forget it completely. It slowed him, forced him to pause on more than one occasion. It would not, however, conquer his determination. Even as the trees continued their attempts to evade him, he proceeded to follow every trail, to hunt them down with cold precision.

  He covered three quarters of the town when he finally met up with Lief. Only the western section of the city remained. He barely slowed to speak to his friend when the elf took hold of him.

  "Hold yourself, Ryson. You've done enough."

  Ryson tried to break free, but the elf held him firm. The delver questioned Lief with irritability. He wanted to finish his job and he let Lief know it. "What are you talking about? There's still the west side. We can't leave any trees. Even one can take over and destroy the city."

  "You saved the city," Lief reassured. "The dwarves will take care of the rest."

  The delver finally came to a halt. As he stopped struggling against the elf's hold, Lief released him. Ryson muttered the obvious question.

  "How?"

  "They're set to bury that portion of Dunop that you have not traveled. They're going to collapse the roof above. They have already evacuated that section of the town. They will bury the trees in a mountain of rock. They are willing to sacrifice that much."

  "But they don't have to sacrifice anything. The sword's working."

  "Not for much longer," Lief stated sadly. "The sun is setting outside. The light which remains in Dunop is now more firelight than sunlight. Your sword will continue to glow with that light, but it will not hurt the trees."

  "But there’s still starlight! It stopped them in Sanctum," Ryson protested. "It was night then."

  "It kept them at bay. It did not destroy them," Lief corrected. "The starlight can indeed hurt them, prevent them from growing, but not with same efficiency as daylight. This deep in the ground, your sword would do little more than cut a path for you to move. Nothing more. There are other problems as well. We tried to mark the spots for you, but the trees have grown too large. That section of town was the darkest. They are moving freely now. If you ventured into that portion of
the city, you would do well simply to survive. I am afraid you would be quickly overwhelmed and the trees would have the rest of the city as well. It has to be this way. We should move back now."

  Ryson resisted. He felt his mission incomplete, as if he had failed, but he could not ignore the sight of retreating dwarves. They were already abandoning that section of Dunop.

  Lief pulled gently at the delver's arm. "Come on. You saved more of their city than they could have hoped for."

  Ryson allowed the elf to guide him away. They finally stopped near the front of the palace.

  "I suggest you cover your ears," Lief advised.

  Ryson did so. He waited impatiently, watched for even the slightest movements of activity. He caught a fevered pitch of action near the all-encompassing ceiling of rock. He spied dwarves suspended from ropes with pick axes, shovels and sledge hammers. They worked deftly, but their purpose was foreign to the delver. They seemed to be hammering and digging in haphazard confusion. He soon realized that nothing was further from the truth. The dwarves had acted in a harmony that rivaled that of the algors, and as they struck one last time together, the tons of rock hanging over the western end of the city collapsed in one large mass.

  Ryson marveled at the sight. He could not fathom the weight and size of the rock that fell, but the destruction was obvious. Marvelous dwarf structures, statues to their brilliance in the art of construction, were immediately and thoroughly crushed by all encompassing rock.

  The ground shook with a great blast. A wave of force crashed forward from the impact. Dwarves were sent sprawling as dust filled the air. It glittered in the beams bouncing off the light gems.

  Ryson maintained his balance even as Lief was sent to his knees. The delver turned about to examine the effects of the blast upon the rest of the city. More testimony to the dwarves’ great skill, the hardy buildings remained intact, undamaged as if nothing had happened. And so it truly appeared, even at the very point of collapse. There was no sign of devastation other than the absence of the western city section. There were no crumbled buildings, no broken roads. Only rock. There were no crevices, no cracks, the seal was complete. It was as if the ground had meshed together and that portion of Dunop had never existed.

  Ryson immediately saw the symbolism in this grandiose display. That section of Dunop was simply gone, gone like Yave, gone like the need for any further conflict. The war was over. A wave of relief hit like a sledge hammer. He felt fatigue with the realization that there was nothing left for him to do. He met his challenge, the need for his involvement was at an end.

  Lief gathered himself, rose to his feet, and brushed the dust off his clothes. He echoed Ryson's very sentiments. "It seems the threat is over."

  Unfortunately, not all agreed. An ordinary dwarf citizen stumbled up to them with a mask of hostility. "No thanks to you, elf." The description of Lief's race was accented with hate and anger.

  Another dwarf followed the first's lead, then another. A crowd soon surrounded them, a crowd which quickly turned into an accusing mob.

  "You dropped the seeds on us."

  "You attacked my camp without provocation," Lief shot back.

  "The seeds should have never been used," one dwarf cried.

  Others joined in the tirade.

  "We have lost part of our city because of you and the other elves. The shadow trees are the ultimate act of war."

  "A war you started," Lief replied belligerently.

  "And a war we can finish," a dwarf sentry growled.

  Lief laughed sarcastically. "With what army?"

  "We will all take up arms. Other dwarves from other cities will join us. You have used shadow trees against us! No dwarf will forgive that."

  It was the delver that responded. "That's enough!" Ryson's face glowed crimson. Veins bulged from the side of his head. His fatigue ruled his emotions. He blasted everyone around him with shouts of frustration. "Haven't you learned anything?! Can you possibly be this stubborn and stupid?"

  "Yes, they can," Lief replied smugly.

  The delver would not hold his fury simply to the dwarves. "Shut up, Lief!"

  The elf recoiled with surprise.

  Ryson continued. "I'm tired of all of you. The whole bunch of you. Things were better off when I didn't even know any of you existed. Do you know that? How does that make you feel?"

  "What do we care what a delver feels?" one dwarf voice retorted.

  "Because this delver saved your lives, saved your necks!"

  "The cliff behemoths saved us, not you," another voice rebutted.

  "Did the cliff behemoths save you from the trees? They saved you from the sand giants. And who do you think told them of this nonsense?! I did. I don't know why they came here, but now I'm sorry they did. You deserved to be crushed by the sand giants. Especially, after what you did to the algors."

  "The algors killed Tun," a female's voice cried defensively.

  "That's nonsense. I was there. Tun died because he was just as stupid and stubborn as the rest of you."

  "Watch your tongue, delver," a dwarf guard called sharply.

  "Why? What are you going to threaten me with now? Going to throw me in the dungeon like you did before? And for what? All I ever tried to do was to help you."

  "But the elves have committed the ultimate act of war. They have dropped the seeds upon our town. We must respond."

  "Is that so? And what about the algors. You attacked them. Slaughtered them! Don't they have a right to send more sand giants? And what about the humans at Connel? I saw what you did there. And why? I know why. Oh, I know for damn sure why. Your queen wanted to get even with me. She knew that I used to live there. That's why thousands of humans died. She ordered the attack on my home for the same reason. When I go back, what am I going to find? Neighbors and friends dead. Buildings destroyed. Does that give me the right to kill all of you right now? Don't tempt me."

  A single delver attacking the remnants of a once proud city, the thought was ludicrous, but the dwarves saw the resolve in the delver. Could they stop him? Could they even catch him?

  Ryson, however, turned his venom quickly upon the elf. "And what about you?"

  "What about me?" Lief responded unwaveringly.

  "Your people are now just as responsible for this stupidity as the dwarves," Ryson shot back. "Petiole dropped the seeds. You can't deny that."

  "I don't intend to, but what has that got to do with me?"

  Ryson glared with disbelief at Lief's apparent hold to blameless detachment. "He's the leader of your camp."

  "I was against the use of the seeds. I made him promise to hold off."

  "He broke his word. He almost got us killed. What are you going to do about it?"

  "What can I do about it?"

  "See that he never does it again!" Ryson replied angrily, fists clenched tightly. He yelled louder, with greater conviction. "Remove him from power. Take away his right to lead."

  Lief began to speak, but Ryson spoke over him.

  "I know. I know. You can't do anything about it because its the way you have to live. It's your tradition. More garbage! What he did was unconscionable. It was sinful. We had this stopped. It was over. The cliff behemoths saw to that. The seeds fell and now it's starting all over again. You know what that means? It's all in Petiole's lap now. It was easy for you to blame Yave when she started things. What about now? The plain simple truth is that Yave was stopped, history! The war was over, and then, the seeds came. Your camp! Do you understand? Your camp is now responsible. Petiole is responsible. What are you going to do about it?"

  "What can I do? The guards ..."

  Ryson growled with contempt. "What do I care about your guards? Petiole is a menace. A worse menace then Yave. For the love of Godson, Lief, think about what that bastard did. He was so worried about his own image, his lousy status among the other camp elders, that he was willing to destroy an entire city. What does that say? If you leave h
im in power, what does that say about you? Yave was wrong, she acted out of anger and hate. That's bad, terrible, but what Petiole did was worse. He acted out of weakness, pride, and selfishness. How can you even trust a person like that? Guards or no guards and to blazes with your tradition, if Petiole is still in charge after this, it means you're all a bunch of killers. There's no excuse for this. None whatsoever. He promised us time. Time he never gave us!"

  Lief was silent.

  Ryson let the elf ponder his words. He turned his fury back upon the dwarves. "And as for you. You don't have a choice! In case any of you have forgotten, the cliff behemoths said there would be an end to this war. This stops here! Now, I want out of this place. I want to get home. Give me and this elf an escort back to Dark Spruce."

  Far removed from the center of the Dunop, deep within a tunnel leading to the surface, Dzeb listened to the final echoing words of the delver. He smiled with glowing grace. "Very good, Ryson. May Godson always bless you."