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you know that?”

“No, I did not,” Mappel said firmly. “Such power is not supposed to be. Could it have come from something else, something other than the sword?”

“I don’t think so.” Ryson fought through the ugly images of his encounter with the vampire to establish his certainty. “No, it came from the sword. I know it now and I knew it then. Do you want to try holding the handle?” He went to dislodge the scabbard from his belt.

“No, I can see the truth in your eyes,” Mappel answered.

Ryson continued unfastening his belt. “Well, its time for you to take it back anyway. It has been quite an honor, but it belongs to you.”

Mappel made a statement which could do no less then shock the delver. “Not anymore. Leave it at your side, Ryson Acumen. I do not know why the sword is now blessed with a new power, but it was blessed in your hands and there it must stay.”

Wide-eyed, Ryson refused. “I can’t accept this.”

“If you deny it, you are denying providence. None of us are in a position to do that.”

“But this is a magical item that belongs to the elves. You’ve guarded it for so long.”

“Yet it never earned its name in our hands. Now it has. If it will now reveal mysteries to you by some act of benevolence, then the Sword of Decree will belong to you.”

“What if it’s just the effect of the tainted magic in the air?”

Mappel shook his head. “According to Holli, she used the sword against a monster at the edges of the Lacobian desert. She claimed no powers of any kind. And you yourself just stated with certainty that the power came from the sword. No, Ryson Acumen, the blessing has occurred in your hands and we are in need of all the blessings we can get. You must hold onto the sword.”

Ryson stood silent. Not knowing what else to do, and not wishing to insult the elf, he finally accepted the gift. “Thank you. I’ll try to wear it with honor.”

“You already have,” Mappel said sincerely. “Now, however, we must come to more difficult matters. With your assistance, we have achieved a great stride toward our goal. In the basement of this church, in a town as time-honored as Connel, we have gathered representatives of the dwarves, the algors, as well as the humans and elves. I am pleased that this gathering has taken place so quickly. Never could I have imagined that the races involved in the tiers of Sanctum would be together in one place during my lifetime. Yet, it has happened, and it is now. There are, however, two problems.”

Ryson listened intently as the elf continued with an explanation.

“The first is that you are the only delver in our presence. You have already admitted to a lack of knowledge over what the delvers placed in Sanctum to guard the sphere. Every other key is now within our grasp. Even the human element is here. Stephen Clarin is the interpreter of the book of Godson. Matthew told me he spoke of the interpreter to you?”

Ryson nodded. “Yes. Yes, he did. That’s why he was so worried about the quake. This interpreter was able to foresee many things, but he didn’t predict the quake. He’s here? Now? What can he tell us about what’s going on?”

Mappel shook his head sadly. “Precious little I’m afraid. It seems he believes the sphere defies even the prophecies. He can not predict the outcome of this event, although he has experienced a vision which yet brings us hope.” Mappel quickly yet thoroughly explained the visions as witnessed by the interpreter. He emphasized Ryson’s involvement in entering Sanctum, hoping to make it clear that the delver was expected to be part of the force.

Ryson exhaled deeply but did not decline. “It seems I can’t get away from this. Truthfully, I was hoping to become more of an observer after I helped bring back the algors. I never hoped to be included any further.”

Ryson’s thoughts returned to Burbon and Linda. He would have liked to return there, to help them all. He remembered his promise to go back and tell her of what was truly happening, but as he did, he recalled everything she said. It became a blueprint in his mind. She asked him to return when he discovered everything he needed to know, even if it took a season. He faced the true crux of his dilemma with that simple edict ringing through his head. Would he be satisfied if he walked away now? Could he truly turn away from the opportunity to enter Sanctum? Every instinct that was his, every natural desire demanded he follow this to its end. He spoke with that conclusion.

“I can’t tell you it makes me happy, but as a delver I can’t refuse the opportunity to explore a monument such as Sanctum. If you invite me to go along, I will have to accept.”

“It is more than invitation, it is an urgent need. We need you, and in all honesty, we have need of the Sword of Decree. I might have been hasty to offer it to you as a gift, but I see now in your eyes it was no mistake. Without it, we would not pass through the tribulations of Sanctum, and without you, we would not fulfill the vision of the interpreter.”

“Then I will accompany you,” Ryson responded, accepting his fate.

“It is good you feel that way. We will need you then, and we still have need of you now. This returns us to the first problem. Assuming we convince those that are present to reveal the secrets of what lies ahead in Sanctum, we will still be missing one part of the puzzle. No one present knows the delver’s portion of the secret. Stephen Clarin is aware of what the humans placed within the mountain, but he has no idea of what the delvers placed. No one does. I am hoping that you might direct us in that matter.”

Mappel looked to the delver expectantly, but Ryson could only shake his head.

“I just don’t know,” he admitted. “I don’t even know where to begin. I was told of the importance of Sanctum as a kid, I was also told to avoid it. As far as I know, no one knows what’s in there. It’s kind of strange. You would think that Sanctum with all its secrets would be a place which would really call to a delver. But it hasn’t, until now. It was one of the only places that delvers accept must not be explored.”

Mappel spoke as if his hopes were quickly draining from him. “There is no one else you might know that we may ask?”

“We could go to the Night Watch Inn,” Ryson offered. “There are other delvers in Connel. One of them might know, or at least might know where to go to find out.”

“But you wouldn’t know which is the best suited to ask?”

“I’ve spoken to almost all those with delver blood that spend time in Connel. None stand out as someone that might know what we need.”

Mappel frowned. “I do not covet the idea of indiscriminately speaking to delvers at the Night Watch Inn, plodding about carelessly, hoping to stumble on information. We have done so well for ourselves so far. We have worked for the answers and they have come to us, some miraculously. I can not accept that we were meant to sift through the land for this secret as if searching for a single ant in a mountainous anthill. There must be another answer.”

“Well, there’s none that I can think of.”

Mappel stood leaning upon his long staff. His eyes focused on nothing in particular. Long drawn out silence hung in the room like a giant tapestry. He became as still as a statue. If not for the slow relaxed breaths or the blinking of an eye, Ryson would have thought him carved of stone and painted to appear life-like.

Ryson arched his neck and examined the wooden rafters of the ceiling. He waited patiently as Mappel continued his pose of reflection.

Finally, the elder elf broke his silent concentration with a weary shake of his head. “I do not like this, not being able to decide what to do. Just as our other problem, there is no conceivable solution. I am left groping for options that do not seem to exist. Why are we brought so close, yet left without a final answer?”

“What is this other problem you’re talking about?”

Mappel sighed heavily with frustration. The topic was a weight on his shoulders that he would have liked nothing more than to cut free. “It is the dwarves, mainly Tun. He is a prince, son of Folarok. He is here with his brother, Jon. He is not convinced the sphere must be destroyed.”

“Does he know what Shayed said to me and Lief?”

“He knows. He does not doubt the exchange occurred, and he does not truly question Shayed’s wisdom. Unfortunately, he wishes to explore other opportunities.”

“Even though Shayed said we had to destroy the sphere?”

“You must remember that the dwarves are not fond of the thought of magic. They believe it never truly benefited them. Tun Folarok echoes that belief in my ear at almost every chance. He has been told that both he and his brother are part of the interpreter’s vision. It did little to convince him. In fact, it may have made things more difficult. He now states that if something such as the will of Godson will lead us, then the will of Godson will bring him the light of understanding. While he sits and listens, he only responds that nothing miraculous has yet occurred to sway his position. If he is waiting for some kind of miracle, I don’t know if we will ever convince him.

“His brother, Jon, is more reasonable, more rational, yet he is cautious. He wishes to remain loyal to his brother as well as avoid his anger, thus he will not speak out against him. If it were just him, I am certain we could move forward, for he also knows the secret of Sanctum.”

“Then why do we need his brother?” Ryson questioned. “We can leave Tun to wait for his miracle if we can convince Jon to help us.”

Mappel’s voice was thick with dissent. “They have been sent together by the king, and so together they will listen to our requests. Tun is the elder and has the right of the throne. Jon would never consider opposing his brother. Unfortunately, it is Tun who we must convince, yet he gives us little opportunity.”

Mappel looked over his staff as he pieced the problem together. Hoping he himself might find an answer previously overlooked, he outlined the difficulty with a precise tongue. “The problem has been complicated further by Stephen’s vision. Stephen sees both Folarok princes entering Sanctum. This is what truly creates the misfortune of our situation. I use it to explain that Tun must assist us. Tun uses it to accent his doubts. We traipse around in circles. I can not ignore the vision. Because of this, I am certain Tun must be made to see the reason of what we must do, but I do not know how to convince him. I keep hoping he will see what must be done on his own accord, but he shows no sign. He waits for divine intervention, so I wait as well. But I do not know how much longer I can wait. All I know is that Stephen believes they are both integral to our plans, and therefore we can not ignore them.”

“Is Stephen certain about this vision?”

“He is. I am

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