Delver Magic I: Sanctum's Breach, Jeff Inlo [buy e reader .txt] 📗

his might as if he hoped to coax some last inspiration of knowledge from the magical artifact. No such enlightenment manifested itself. He knew all there was to know of the trees, of the last obstacle to the sphere of Ingar. There were no other secrets to coax from the enchanted weapon. The simple truth was plainly clear, the light was his grace, the shadows held his death.

Biting hard upon his lip, he grasped his rope as Dzeb took secure hold of one end. He flung the opposite end through the aperture. There was no sense in standing about, staring into the abyss of horrors. He nodded to Lief and took a long view of the cliff behemoth’s simple compassionate eyes for strength. Holding the sword steady, he dropped his legs through the opening to the last tier.

Fighting to block out the images that now swarmed about him, he kept his eyes as well as the sword’s point locked upon the center of the hole which was now overhead. He could not, however, completely ignore the sights brought to him by his own keen peripheral vision. Branches darted out toward him, but retracted as they hit the glowing pulse of light from his sword. As this radiance filled more and more of the last tier, the shadow trees closest to him moved with desperation to escape the glow. Sludge covered sticks parted like breaking waves as he lowered himself down.

He moved with less swiftness in this descent. He held to the rope as if it represented the life-line to which Lief referred. When he came to its end, he actually tasted his own reluctance to let go.

He kept the sword point steady upward, but for the first time, he allowed himself a glance at the space below. He was still a full body’s length from the floor, but it was now visible. The shadow trees in his path had either moved aside or had been consumed by those waiting clear of the light. A portion of the diamond crusted sheets which safeguarded the floor was now visible. It glistened from the sword’s radiance and the reflected light helped to clear a path for his final leap.

Holding his breath, he released his grip on the rope. He hit the floor with balance and precision. His knees bent to absorb the impact just as his arm held the sword true. The intense light from his sword continued to cleanse the immediate area of shadow trees. Free, unthreatening space formed four to five paces all about him and continued upward right to the break in the ceiling.

Within this new formed tunnel among the breadth of the shadow trees, Ryson turned his attention to his immediate surroundings. With a twist of his neck, he made one quick reconnaissance. He scanned for landmarks of the tier. He attempted to gauge his position. He searched for the sphere.

He saw nothing beyond the twisting, shifting darkness of the shadows that surrounded him. His vision was restricted to the tightly wound area which the trees allowed. Though the trees relinquished space in his immediate vicinity, they completely filled the rest of the expanse. There was nothing to see but an endless wake of dark trunks and black branches filled with thick sludge.

Constant motion and upheaval surrounded the delver. Those trees closest to him, in the direct path of the light, struggled to pass back into the darkness of the swarm. Most were consumed before they could make their departure. The trees that replaced them, filled the space touched by the light, then faced the same dilemma.

Though the trees constantly attacked each other, they would not venture within the modest area cleansed by the sword’s light. Ryson could hear, and even sometimes see, branches further back reaching toward him, but they dared not pass beyond this border. Even with all the shifting and rustling of the closest trees, not a single one ventured close enough to represent a true threat, thus he motioned for Lief to follow.

Lief answered the signal with a nod and scrambled down the rope furiously. A lifetime of traveling through the trees, walking upon thin branches, clinging to meager vines, enabled the elf for such an endeavor. He descended with his mind bent on speed and not upon elegance. He let his weight pull him straight down, holding to the rope with just enough tension to refrain from free falling. Like an anchor dropping from a ship, he descended without swinging to and fro. Such a direct plunge kept him safely within the tunnel among the trees created by Ryson’s light, but it also left the elf with little control. He reached the end of the rope a body length away from the ground, but he could not stop his downward drive. He released his hold and landed hard upon the ground. He groaned as a sharp pain erupted in his ankle.

Ryson, with a great surge of will, maintained the sword’s direction toward the ceiling, but pressed one hand upon Lief’s back to steady the elf.

“Are you alright?!” Ryson’s attention shot back and forth between the elf and the point of his sword.

Lief grunted as he brought a hand to his injured ankle. “I landed poorly!” he growled with obvious disgust at his own actions. His hands simultaneously caressed the throbbing area as they tested the integrity of the bone. With a pained expression, he forced his foot to bend in nearly every direction possible. He revealed his findings with obvious annoyance at his own carelessness. “It is not broken, merely sprained. I’ll live, though it was pure stupidity.”

“As long as you’re alright.”

Again, Lief grunted in disgust. “Alright? I have proven my fear of the shadow trees is no smaller than the dwarves.”

Ryson glanced about; checking the distance maintained by the massive trunks and gnarled branches. He admonished the elf for his harsh self-criticism. “You think there’s something wrong with that? These things scare me to death.”

The elf did not respond with anything more than a noncommittal shrug. He placed his foot upon the gleaming floor and tested its ability to hold his weight. He was hobbled, but he would be able to move.

Dzeb interrupted Lief’s trials as the cliff behemoth called out the warning for his imminent arrival into their midst.

“I am going to join you. Please do not move. I promise I will not land on you, but you must stand where you are. The area is small for one of my size.”

Ryson understood just how much of an understatement that was as the cliff behemoth took his leap. As Dzeb plummeted through the gap, it appeared as if he would crush both Lief and himself. Ryson’s eyes grew as Dzeb’s giant form filled the space overhead. Every instinct within him cried for him to run, to move free of the falling colossus, but the need to maintain the positioning of his sword held him in place. It was like watching a giant boulder falling from the sky, threatening to land upon his head, yet he was forced to remain frozen.

Miraculously, Dzeb dropped with exact precision. His form glided free of the surrounding trees with room to spare on all sides. He landed with great force, force enough to shake even the diamond encrusted floor and blow back the hair of Ryson and Lief, but that was all which befell these two onlookers. Dzeb landed clear of them both, and now all three stood upon the final tier.

“And so we are now here,” Dzeb said simply. “We need but obtain the sphere and leave. Where can we find it?”

Lief spun about with purpose, but found only confusion. “According to Mappel,” he exclaimed still peering about in every direction. “It is in the center of the tier. It is upon a small pedestal surrounded by silver lined reflectors. The problem is I don’t know where the center is. The trees block my perspective.”

“I think I know how to find it,” Ryson offered. While keeping his sword to the gap in the ceiling, he nodded to it. “The sphere created that hole as a means to send the magic out of Sanctum. If we line that hole up with the hole above it, and finally with the tunnel through the mountainside, we should be very near the sphere. Now, it may not be exact, for some reason the tunnel through the wall curves, but we should be close.”

“That is as good a start as any,” Dzeb noted.

Ryson pointed with his free hand to his left. “Then, we have to go that way. I have to keep my attention on the opening up there. I need you two to watch around me. Make sure I don’t bump into a pillar or something. And make sure I don’t get too close to those trees.”

Without waiting for an answer, the delver began shuffling slowly off to his left. His movements created a bizarre dance. As he moved, the shadow trees moved with him. Those in his path scurried to be free of the light. None would stay to challenge his progress. Those he moved away from kept pace with him, maintaining the same distance and keeping the size of the borders constant. Thus, the tubular section of space offered up by the shadow trees shifted with Ryson’s every move.

As the clearing shifted, so did its shape. The opening overhead began to angle with the point of Ryson’s sword. The light continued to cleanse the area above them, but not all the way to the ceiling. Reaching branches began to defy the light, stretching into the spaces far over their heads. They did not pose a threat, for even Dzeb’s lofty stature did not pass beyond the border of safety, but they signified the limits of the sword’s power. It could not clear a wide area, only a direct path. As they moved further from their point of entry, the angle of this path steepened as it stretched to greater lengths, yet it remained intact right through to the opening.

Lief and Dzeb matched Ryson step for step. The two stayed at the delver’s side, keeping clear of the sword while maintaining their distance from the surrounding horror. They maintained constant awareness of the shadow trees and the ever shifting area of decontaminated space. With their hands on Ryson’s shoulders and back, they helped guide the delver, though nothing but open ground arose from the parting black shadows.

All three plodded slowly. Ryson with his eyes toward the source of light, Lief upon his injured ankle, and Dzeb with his great size, each stepped with care and concentration. They barely blinked, and they said not a word, though silence was not their reward.

The true bane to their focus was the sounds from the very trees which encircled them. Crunching, shuffling, even grinding; these noises erupted about them with maddening intensity. Like a jungle with its constant barrage of tumultuous clamor, the shadow trees exuded a resonance of their own design. Branch pushed against branch, trunk grated against trunk. The thick sludge oozed to the floor with sickening dribbles. Each vibration, each echo, etched itself in the ears of the three.

The delver swept the discord from his thoughts. His eyes peered through the gap in the trees, furiously grasping the jagged opening to the upper level. He looked beyond the rough edges of the fissure, up and out in search of the second blast hole. His keen eyesight caught the lip of another fracture. He arched his neck to gauge its location. To line up the two holes, he would have to take several steps backwards.

He took the first, then a second and third step. More of the second blast hole came into his view. The cylinder shaped tunnel through the shadow trees soon formed a direct line, which