Delver Magic II: Throne of Vengeance, Jeff Inlo [graded readers .TXT] 📗

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 goodbye.”

“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