Delver Magic I: Sanctum's Breach, Jeff Inlo [buy e reader .txt] 📗
- Author: Jeff Inlo
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“What about our third option?”
Holli looked directly into the eyes of the delver. She spoke with blunt determination. “I can stay behind and cut off the shag while you lead the algors to safety. I have the Sword of Decree. If I but touch the shag with the blade, it will flee. They are no fonder of the burning touch of fire than they are of water.”
“Out of the question,” Ryson said flatly.
Holli did not retreat from her determined stance. “Do not be so hasty. It is the best of the options. I will accept my chances of success. No matter what happens, it will guarantee the safety of the algors and yourself.”
Ryson shook his head. “You seem to forget one thing. You’re now more important than I am. I found the algors and have delivered my message. They have agreed to follow us, but you have to bring them to your camp first. It is what you have promised them. If we lose you, we can’t fulfill that promise. You know the way back to your camp, I don’t”
It was an undeniable lie. With his skills as a delver and his diligence toward recalling trails, Ryson could have easily led them all back to the center of the elf camp. He did not, however, wish to see Holli take such a risk as facing the shag alone. He also began to develop an option of his own.
“There’s a better way,” Ryson stated firmly. “A safer way where no one will have to actually face the shag. You will lead the algors back to your camp, and I’ll stay behind and keep the shag from following.”
Holli immediately began to protest, but she held her tongue as Ryson spoke forcibly, making it clear he wished to finish.
“Don’t misunderstand me, I’m not trying to be a hero here, and I’m not talking about facing it in some kind of fight. I don’t want to get near it and I have no intention of doing so. I’m talking about doing what I do best. I’ll cover your trail and make a false one. I’ll lead it off away from you. I’ll let it close enough to know that I’m still around, but no where near where it can do any harm. I’ll only have to do it for a little while, just long enough to make sure you have time to get to the trees. It’s the safest and smartest thing to do.”
“It is not smart to have you risk yourself for my well being,” Holli finally interrupted. “I’m an elf guard. What shall I say when I return to my camp without you? Shall I tell them the truth, that you did my job for me?”
“Your job now is to protect the algors, not me. And to see to it that they reach your camp. Which of your options allows that?”
“We can head for the river,” Holli replied stubbornly.
“Is it your training which tells you we should increase the risk in our mission, or is it your own pride?”
Holli did not answer; she stared callously at the delver.
“Get mad at me all you want,” Ryson answered with feigned disgust. He did not wish to anger or insult Holli. He admired her too much for that. Her presence was a true asset, that could not be denied, but she now opposed what he believed was the most sensible solution to their problem. “I’m asking you to look at this from a cold and logical perspective. Forget it’s me and you out here in the desert. Pretend it’s only a hypothetical problem, a problem that your superiors might pose. You have a delver with you that is no longer critical to the mission. You must lead a party back to the camp in which only you know the way. What should you do?”
“I can not answer that.”
“Why not? Because you know I’m right.”
Holli turned away for the first time. She threw both the empty shells and nuts to the ground in frustration.
Ryson spoke calmly. “I trusted your abilities to protect me in the desert, now you have to trust in mine. I can lead the shag away, I can move faster and quicker than it can. You’ve seen what I can do. If you don’t believe that, tell me now.”
“I believe you can outmaneuver the shag,” Holli replied grudgingly. She quickly, however, added another fact she thought was also most relevant. “You have also never faced a mountain shag. It is not wise for me to leave you in such a situation.”
“I really don’t think we have another choice. You’re just going to have to trust me to be careful. I will do everything …”
“Very well,” she cut him off. She continued to stare off into the distance, looking anywhere but at the delver. Her response was as cold as the deepest sea. The proposal annoyed her, perhaps even hurt or insulted her, but she could not win this argument. The delver accurately placed the importance of the mission squarely in front of her. The algors had to be led to Connel. If she left them, she would be failing in her duty. Her desire to be the one to face the shag was based more on her own pride than pure logic and duty. The delver had pointed that out clearly enough. Still, she could not easily forget her past duties to the delver or her training to be the one that faced danger before those she escorted. Mappel had entrusted her to protect him, but also to see the mission to its fruition. She faced no easy choice. In the end, she accepted duty over pride. “Explain your plan to the algors.”
The delver nearly questioned her if she was sure, disbelieving she would agree without more of a fight. He did not, however, say another word or press his luck. He moved to the algors with an explanation as quickly a possible and without giving Holli a chance to change her mind.
The algors listened intently with tilted heads, but made no comments. As he finished his short instructions, they displayed total, as well as casual acceptance of the plan. They simply gathered their bags and waited for Holli to guide them.
Before taking the lead, Holli moved to the delver. She removed the belt which held the Sword of Decree and held the sheathed weapon out to Ryson. “Take good care of this, bring it back with you to Connel and return it to Mappel.”
“I won’t need that,” Ryson protested.
“I will not argue this,” Holli stated bluntly. Her steely eyes accented her position. “This sword was entrusted to me so I might use it to protect you. That was made clear enough. You made a promise to Mappel, a vow that you would not part from the sword. You promised you would stay by my side so that the sword would be near you. You also vowed to remain watchful over the sword itself. If you wish me to leave you here, you must take the sword.”
Ryson saw in the elf’s eyes that she would take no argument. If he did not take the sword, she would not leave his side.
“Alright,” he said reluctantly. “But I have no intention of using it.”
“I honestly hope you have no need to. I urge restraint and caution against this shag. I will be unable to assist in any fashion, for as you have clearly pointed out, it is now my duty to bring these algors to Connel. I will tell Mappel of what happened and explain that you have accepted the charge of carrying the sword.”
“If I’m going to take your sword, you should at least take the one I was carrying.” He removed the belt which held the short sword he obtained from the captured goblin and handed it to her. “I’ll try to reach Connel before you or at least not too long after,” he said with a forced grin.
“I shall hope for that as well. Good luck, Ryson Acumen.”
As soon as Holli lead the group of algors around the corner of a large boulder, she bid them halt.
Ryson brought up the rear. He made a quick check behind him. Satisfied that the boulder now blocked the view of anyone, or anything that trailed, he moved with uncanny swiftness and precision. He immediately gathered up two dozen stones of varying sizes. He had each algor rub each rock. He placed his dagger in his mouth, blade outward, and his spyscope in his back pocket. He opened his pouch for the quick return of the stones as well as the cores of the cactus fruit the algors ate during their previous rest.
Ryson quietly pointed to a path close to a narrow cliff ledge. He made a swooping motion with his hand to Holli, making it clear she was to circle to the northeast, using the ledge and the rocks to hide their movements.
He then quickly motioned for the algors attention. He touched his head and bent it down. He pointed to his feet and lifted his toes from the ground so his weight rested on his heels. He looked back at the algors with an expression of expectancy.
The algors acknowledged the request without reluctance or hesitation. They duplicated his actions, bowing their heads and lifting the claws on their toes from the ground. As Holli waved a final good-bye, the algors followed with their heads low, crouched over. They walked on the heels of their feet, keeping their claws clear from any surface. They took their own leave of the delver with placid acceptance.
Ryson did not find the detached response even slightly surprising. He could not find it within himself to blame the algors for their apparent lack of concern. Ryson simply assumed that his departure from the group was nothing more than accepted activity for the algors. He was being considered just another algor that decided it was time to break from the pack. In that, Ryson found a slice of cheer. If these algors could accept him as just another part of their community, perhaps all of the inhabitants of the land could accept the inevitable changes they all faced.
He shrugged off his inner contemplations as he returned his concentration to the task at hand. As the algors followed Holli toward a ravine, Ryson inspected the path they walked. He moved quickly but softly over the ground the algors passed. Not a single scratch mark. He nodded his head with satisfaction, but he took the precaution to wave his hand just above the ground. A thin layer of rock dust swirled about, then settled quickly. Any marks in the dirt were thus covered.
Certain the actual path was now well hidden, the delver set about marking a false trail. He pulled the core of a cactus fruit and two of the stones from his pouch. He stepped off in a direction opposite from the path taken by Holli. He dropped the first stone as he bent low to the ground, and he tossed the second further off into the distance. He lightly pulled the dagger from his teeth, and with dagger in one hand and the soft remains of the fruit in the other, he began marking a trail.
Shuffling along, hunched over, Ryson moved with unbelievable speed. His hands worked miracles in the fine arts known only to delvers. The dagger moved as if it knew by itself what it must do. The crisp sharp tip created short shallow scrapes in the rocky ground. Each scratch finished with a light curve as if made by an algor claw.
With his other hand, Ryson rolled, dotted, pressed, and nudged
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