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

which was now his to control. With focus on his perceived greatest threat, chains of energy five times the length and width of those he used to capture Shayed materialized. They knifed through the air with frightening speed and accuracy. They crashed upon Dzeb with an eruption of power. An explosion shook the ground, knocked many to their knees, including the cliff behemoth. The chains entwined themselves around the giant, holding him to his knees as they bound his arms and legs and anchored him to the ground.

Ingar found such delight in his achievement, at watching Dzeb kneel before him, he grinned with boastful taunts. “I might not have been able to hold you before, cliff behemoth, but now I possess nearly all the magic in the land. Your strength is now meaningless to me. You speak of Godson’s great power. There is no power greater than mine. That is why you kneel before me.”

Dzeb’s gentle nature washed from him with these words. His expression turned hateful, and the calm blue of his eyes dissolved into cold hostility. He roared, and his scream filled the air like a clap of thunder, and again, the ground shook. He pulled with all his might, but he could not break the chains.

His display merely brought more laughter from the wizard, and another wave of a crimson hand. The chains obeyed the command and lengthened as they wrapped about Dzeb’s mouth.

“We’ll have no more shouts from you,” Ingar said through a malicious giggle.

“What is the meaning of this?!” Mappel was the first to respond to the confusion. He broke his sight from the captured cliff behemoth and turned it upon the depraved spirit.

Ingar turned a spiteful glance to the elder elf. “Do you not recognize me? You, oh great and wise elf. You who are so arrogant that you believe you can explain things beyond your knowledge. If you are so wise in the way of the legends, how is it you were unable to tell the difference between a weak sorceress and the mighty Ingar?”

Mappel blinked as he repeated the name in a whisper. He could not be certain of this, he had never witnessed Ingar and there were only meager descriptions. He could only speculate. What was before him appeared as a spirit mad with power. There was little else in the way of an explanation, yet it was not possible.

Ingar found only more joy in Mappel’s reaction. He sought to add to the elf’s despair. “You have doubts, but you had no doubts as to Shayed’s return. You believed her capable of returning, why not Ingar? Do you truly think her superior to me? You have spoke so highly of Shayed, climbed all the way up to meet her as if she was some goddess. She is nothing.”

Another wave of a hand and Shayed now stood revealed. Ingar removed the power that blocked her from the sight of the others but did not remove the bonds that held her. She floated helplessly, unable to lift her arms, unable to escape from the scarlet prison which surrounded her.

“Look upon the sorceress you believed so powerful. She was nothing to me before. She is even less than that now. Let your doubts fade, pathetic creature. I am Ingar, and I have returned to claim what is rightfully mine.”

Nearly every set of eyes fell upon the captured spirit of Shayed. Only Holli ignored the spectacle. The elf guard’s mind raced with devising alternatives of attack. She found little hope to cling to. She had no experience in dealing with magical foes, and no idea of how to attack the ghost of an insane wizard. She immediately discounted all standard forms of defense. He was not of material form and her arrows would pass through him. Only one plausible course of action came to mind. If she could not attack the wizard directly, perhaps she could distract him.

She crouched low and moved with stealth and silence to the ledge of the platform behind her. Sinking low to the ground, she kicked at a pile of loose rocks. The debris scattered and tumbled over the ledge. As the tumbling rocks fell upon other loose dirt, the small commotion soon turned into a minor avalanche. With the resounding crash of rocks calling for attention, she leapt behind another set of boulders behind Ingar and away from everyone else.

The avalanche failed to achieve its desired effect. While it called for attention, added to the disorientation of the passing events, it did not faze the wizard. Ingar scoffed as he addressed the rocks where Holli hid.

“Do you truly believe I do not sense your useless attempts, elf?” Ingar bore a harsh glance towards Holli as he ignored the rumbling of falling rocks. “If you believe such mundane tricks are of any value, then you must be taught a lesson.”

Again, Holli considered the situation. Her foe was aware of her tactics and sounded ready to strike. She stepped confidently out from behind the rock and faced Ingar defiantly. If she must die to give the rest a chance, so be it. It was simply what she was trained for. Her bravery, however, was lost upon the magic caster.

“You insult me,” Ingar snarled. “You are an insignificant ant. Destroying you is a waste of even the most miniscule portion of my power, but I do wish to hurt you.” He paused, and a devious grin curled upon his transparent lips. “I know you, elf, I know what it is that drives you. Your own death would mean nothing to you, but what of the death of another, the death of one you are supposed to protect.”

He kept his blood red eyes fixed upon the elf guard, but his hand waved toward Mappel. This time there was no bolt of power, no explosion or clap of thunder, no fanfare at all for the deed which would eradicate Mappel. The elder elf simply disintegrated into gray dust.

For Holli, for Ryson, for them all; the very air seemed to quiver. Reality unraveled, scattered through the air like pollen on a windy day. No one could speak, no one could cry. Denial ruled. What they saw was not possible. Mappel was gone, destroyed with the mere wave of one hand. As the elder elf formed the anchor which held them together, those that remained upon Sanctum, aghast and dispirited, were now all cut loose to the wild insanity they faced. Vacant stares filled their faces. Their trials, their successes, their promises to each other; everything fell into the dust of Mappel’s remains.

Ingar spoke slowly, viciously adding to their disorientation. His words hummed with mesmerizing effect, eating at their very wills. He spoke directly at Holli, but his voice tore at them all. “He is dead. I have taken everything he was from you. And you, you that were supposed to protect him could do nothing to stop me. I could do the same to your brother elf that lies upon the ground, but I will let the poison in his veins kill him slowly. I will let you watch. Besides, there are others here you have vowed to protect.”

A shout filled with vengeance finally erupted in the air. It broke the stunned stupor bought upon by Mappel’s end. The words held strength as well as anger, but they came not from the elf guard.

“Coward! Pathetic coward! Craven, misguided bully. What have you proved, that you can catch goldfish trapped in a small bowl?”

“Eh?” Ingar turned to the source of the insults. His eyes filled with interest as he beheld the staunch expression of Lauren. “Might this be a true challenge?”

“I challenge nothing but your arrogance. Any cat can catch a mouse, that is all you prove on this day.”

“And what of you? Are you also a cat, sorceress?”

“I claim nothing other than your cowardice.”

“Then I shall prove my power against you.” With more of a dramatic flair, Ingar threw his arms out and up over his head. A ring of red power encircled his hands. It swirled swiftly, tumultuously, in the shape of a perfect circle. His eyes widened with insane exultation. He opened his mouth wide to laugh with the intoxication of power. In a fit of glee, he clamped his hands together and pressed his arms outwards toward the human sorceress.

The fiery ring flew through the air. It continued to spin as it jettisoned itself free of Ingar. It sped with deadly intentions towards its predefined victim.

In a surge of defiance, Lauren welcomed the controlled surge of magical energy. She raised her own hands, her palms pressed outward and like magnets they drew in the glowing red fire. She absorbed every ounce. Her fingers crackled with the power which changed from red to orange, then to blue and finally to deep purple. She refocused the force. It soon encompassed her own hands. For her, though, it formed the four points of a diamond. As Ingar had cast it at her, she hurled it back at him.

The diamond maintained its shape. It sliced forward with one point fixed upon Ingar’s chest. It impacted before he could block and opened a rent within the apparition’s center. A clear undiluted hole shone free within Ingar’s midst. He winced with pain and then roared with anger.

“So be it!” he snarled, seemingly accepting Lauren’s newfound abilities. With his palm atop the sphere, he pointed two fingers at Lauren. Lost was his desire to destroy her with flare. He only wished to remove her presence, to eradicate her as he dismissed the elder elf. He became a simple conduit, nothing more than directional device to siphon the power from the talisman and focus it upon a single target.

A narrow beam of bright force split the night, gleamed nearly as bright as Ryson’s sword. Lauren attempted again to collect and refocus the power, but the beam defied capture. It passed through her palms as if they were not there. It found its mark at the middle of her forehead, and she collapsed with a groan.

Even as she hit the hard rock ground, Ingar maintained the presence of the beam. It slowly drove her beyond unconsciousness and closer to coma.

The sight was more than painful to watch. Each and every individual that remained upon Sanctum broke from their own hypnotic trance, shunned the shock which held them in place for so long. Holli fired an arrow, not at Ingar but at the sphere, an object which was solid and perhaps vulnerable to such an attack. The two algors followed suit, piercing the air with hard stones from their slings. Jon freed the mace from his belt and attempted a direct assault.

These attempts failed, however, as Ingar’s free hand threw a wave of force that dropped them and their projectiles to the ground. Not an arrow, not a stone, and not Jon’s mace ever got close to the orb.

Only one tactic met with success. Ryson had not attempted an assault, but had moved between Ingar and Lauren. With delver precision, he held the blade of his sword forward to block the deadly beam.

To Ingar’s dismay and anger, the Sword of Decree absorbed the beam, halted its path as easily as a man’s hand would hold a feather. The wizard moved his arm hoping to reestablish the attack upon the sorceress, but Ryson’s speed proved too much for him. Each time Ingar would redirect his finger, Ryson’s sword would counter easily.

Ingar’s expression turned more and more violent. He bared his red teeth like a mad wolf. He flung his arm wildly in frustration. His own anger began to consume him, and he turned his aggression toward the delver. He no longer focused upon Lauren, but attempted to fix the beam at Ryson’s heart.

It would not