Delver Magic I: Sanctum's Breach by Jeff Inlo (read novels website .TXT) 📕

not incite her. She hoped to maintain a single perspective as if to declare that she cared little for what was happening around her. All such attempts, however, were futile. Her head continued to shift from side to side as she kept a constant gauge on the space between them and each and every algor. She could not break from her training any more than she could stop breathing.

Ryson dealt with the circling mass with even less success. Such proximity to such foreign creatures stirred strange feelings. In his lifetime, he spent many a day seeking new and exotic places. It was part of his nature, part of his calling. He found nothing more exciting than coming across an unknown valley in the mountains or a secret cove on a deserted shore line. He thrilled at the first sight of large and small animals, anything that was new to him and the more foreign, the more bizarre, and the greater the thrill.

At this moment, however, he did not feel such unbounded excitement. Certainly, nothing could be more exotic than what stood before him now, yet, he actually recoiled from the sight of such unfamiliar creatures. It was one thing to be a delver on exploration; it was something else all together to break the very bonds of reality. Such was the case with a toad-faced creature that took the posture of an ordinary man.

The astonishing demeanor of the algor was not all that unnerved him. Their cresting numbers, which threatened to swallow every inch of space around him, left the delver searching in vain for open spaces. Just like his elf companion, he tossed his head from side to side with anxious rigor. He searched in vain for open spaces within the cascade of algors, searched for an open path, or even jagged breaks in their ranks, but none existed. He felt as if the rings of algors would suffocate him.

Again, his anxiety was unfamiliar. He spent many a day exploring tight caves and narrow caverns, spaces with barely enough room to move, and he never flinched. On countless occasions, he walked through forests so tightly bound with trees and underbrush that nearly all light vanished, even during the summit of the sun. Such excursions gave him no more apprehension then walking into the Night Watch Inn. Yet, this throng of algors left him more than uneasy. Claustrophobia chewed at his nerve endings and left him fighting for air.

Ryson could not speak. He stood helpless as a seemingly infinite number of bulging black eyes probed him. Suddenly, his claustrophobia, his aversion toward their strangeness, as well as the desert silence were all broken by a chorus which erupted from every angle of the ring of algors.

“What do you know of the orb?”

The request came from several dozen mouths at once, but they were in such unison that the words were clear.

Ryson flinched in surprise but said nothing. He understood the question, for the algors spoke as plainly as any human. He might have expected a slithering accent or croaking, throaty tone, but neither manifested itself.

The algors stood waiting for a reply, motionless for but a moment. Their own response to the delver’s silence crackled and rippled throughout their own circles, a cacophony of questions and exclamations. Gone was the unity of their voice. The harmony of the first question which rang with such clarity was now replaced by a confused, muddled barrage. Each algor spoke a different message and each called out to be heard. Neither Ryson nor Holli could discern a single question or statement from the confused mass of voices.

The ruckus stopped as suddenly as it began just as a hundred or more algors spoke out again in unison. “Why don’t you answer?”

The sudden shift from the undecipherable, disjointed outburst to this harmonic question left a strange echo in the air. Like a voice of reason breaking from the bounds of confusion, it prodded the delver into a reply.

“I didn’t expect to see so many of you,” he explained in a raspy, uncertain voice.

A checked gurgle of laughter broke from the mass, but was quickly stifled.

Ryson felt an immediate urge to explain further. “I mean, I knew there were a lot of you up there, I just didn’t expect you all to come down at once.”

Several questions broke from the crowd. Not all the algors spoke, so it was not like the first unintelligible outburst, but no question was the same. Ryson struggled to hear as many as possible.

“How did you find us?”

“What of the orb?”

“Who is responsible?”

These were the only questions he could make out. The others broke off into a cluttered echo of shouts.

Ryson took a deep breath. He took a quick glimpse at the ground to organize his thoughts. When he lifted his head and spoke, he tried to look at as many of them as possible at once, hoping they would understand he was addressing them all. He raised his voice to be heard, but kept it under a shout.

“The sphere is no longer contained in Sanctum,” he started with emphasis, hoping they would not interrupt with another outburst. “It is still within the mountain, but it has used its power to create a breach in the wall. The magic which was buried with it is now being discharged throughout the land. Unfortunately, the magic still contains the poison which forced its burial in the first place. I have met with elves to discuss this. I am here as a messenger to ask you to come to Connel.”

More questions erupted from the crowd. Again, Ryson strained to hear them all.

“How do we know it’s true?”

“What of the foul creatures?

“How did the breach occur?”

Ryson held up his hand as the questions mounted. He could no longer decipher the words from even the closest algor. Their voices melded together into a rumbling chant of nonsensical syllables.

Slowly, reluctantly, the algors quieted.

Ryson spoke with as much patient composure as possible. “The sphere has gained an awareness of its own burial and has broken free with its own power. The return of the magic has brought with it the return of dark creatures. Goblins have returned to Uton. As for knowing it’s true, our very presence here should indicate there is something of great importance happening throughout the land.”

Several algors in the rear shouted out together. “Do not believe him.”

Ryson responded quickly. “Whether you believe me or not should not matter. The simple fact is that the magic is again free in the land. If you haven’t noticed it yet, just wait. You will. There are signs of it occurring all around this desert of yours. I have already encountered the walking dead and a group of goblins. But like I said, you don’t have to believe me. You’ll see sooner or later. The point is that the sphere is free from Sanctum and it threatens us all.”

“How does it threaten us?” A question broke clear from the crowd. It was again spoken by several algors, and again in unison.

“It contains a poison which will kill all of the races, kill every living thing in the land.”

“The poison is directed at the elves,” the chorus of voices replied.

Ryson shot a questioning glance at the mob. “Then you admit that you know the magic has returned?”

“We have known that for some time,” spoke one voice from the back of the crowd.

“We have been able to return to the ancient art of healing,” another single algor spoke from Ryson’s right.

The algors continued to make statements, but they called them out one by one rather than all at once. Each algor was allowed to speak, if it so wanted, and now the others allowed each statement to be called out without interruption.

“The magic may not be pure, but we can still use it.”

“It contains nothing which can hurt us.”

“None of this concerns us.”

It was this last statement that raised the ire of the delver. For the first time he raised his voice with more than a hint of anger. “So that’s it? It doesn’t concern you so you’ll just hide out here in the desert? What are you going to do when the sphere finally turns toward you? What will you say when the poison starts affecting the algors? Will it concern you then? And what about the goblins, the undead and other creatures mutated by the tainted magic? When they start attacking you, will you simply tell them that none of this concerns you? Do you think they’ll listen? I could have said the same thing when all of this happened. I’m not an elf. I’m a delver. But I realize we all have a stake in this.”

Ryson’s harangue was suddenly stopped in surprise as he felt a hand upon his shoulder. His head swung with deliberation. It was Holli’s hand that held him, and it was Holli that spoke with gentle wisdom. “This will not help. Convincing them of the need for assistance is not the same as scolding them. We need their help.”

Ryson bit his lip. He unclenched his tightly held fists and folded his hands together in front of him. Turning his attention back to the algors, he spoke with greater control. He did not, however, apologize for his outburst.

“If you know that the sphere is no longer contained, then you must accept that there is danger to the land. It is your own responsibility to determine what that danger is. You owe it to every one of your kind. I’m not asking you to do anything more than send representatives with me to meet at the town of Connel. Other races will be there. As you can see now, a delver is walking with an elf. I have been told the dwarves will also be present. Will it really help you if you miss this meeting? Or is it better that you understand what is happening? There you can discuss the merits of your own opinions and determine for yourselves if you are really threatened.”

Before continuing further, Ryson recalled Mappel’s insight about the algors. Algors were attracted to the unusual. The stranger the story the more likely the algor will embrace it. Ryson brought the most curious of the events back into his memory. It was not a difficult task. He spouted them off to the crowd with a dramatic flare.

“Maybe you are willing to wait this out in the desert, but are you truly aware of all that’s happening around you? I have spoken to the ghost of Shayed. That’s right, the elf sorceress that brought the races together in the Wizard War. She has returned and now waits for us at the summit of Sanctum. She waits for all the races. If you doubt any of this, remember that the magic has returned to the land. It allows the spirits to return just as it allows the goblins, just as it allows you to work with powers of healing. The land is changing. That much you can’t deny. I suggest you find out just how much things have changed. Otherwise, the algors will be ignored in the meeting of the races, just as you will have decided to ignore my request.”

Barely a moment of silence existed in the small gap between the end of Ryson’s speech and the eruption of the algors. Voices rang out from the crowd. Some spoke in unison, others broke from the tide.

“It would not hurt to find out what is really happening.”

“If Shayed has returned, we must be included.”

“What if the sphere falls in the wrong hands?”

“Send out scouts.”

“If there is a danger we should be prepared.”

“We should not be left out of something so important.”

Ryson