Delver Magic I: Sanctum's Breach - Jeff Inlo (the best motivational books .txt) 📗
- Author: Jeff Inlo
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“It could also doom the land if I reveal the secret at the wrong time. This is the wrong time,” Stephen answered back, giving no quarter.
“And what will be the right time? When it is too late?”
Stephen again shook his head deliberately. “I have no intention of holding to this secret to such an extent.”
The interpreter inspected the palms of his hands as he tried to further explain his position. “You may think I am stubbornly holding to information without any true cause, but that’s not the case. I’ll ask you to remember that what is written on the parchment is only one piece of the puzzle. Sanctum is comprised of five tiers and five secrets. What I know represents the secret of only one of those tiers.” The interpreter looked towards Mappel. “I assume you have the secret kept by the elves. That is another piece of the puzzle. I’m not asking you to reveal that to me now. We have to wait, wait until the others are here. We have to agree how to handle this together and how to reveal the secret so that each race feels it has been dealt with fairly. Don’t you think it might disturb the dwarves if they find out that we have shared information about Sanctum before they have arrived?”
Mappel nodded his head. “I doubt they would be happy, but there may be no need to tell them of what was discussed in this chamber. It may …”
Stephen did not let him finish. “No need to tell them the truth? That’s not a good way to start this thing out. It’s better we tell everyone everything we know, and everything we intend to do. We need everyone’s cooperation. I will hold to what I know, and you will hold to your secret. Otherwise we invite trouble before we even begin this thing.”
It was Matthew who spoke up in as much defense of himself as for the interpreter. “It is as I feared, the one with the responsibility of the secret has much to consider. Perhaps, it will be a relief to us all when all the secrets of Sanctum are finally free.”
“But they must be freed at the proper time,” Stephen insisted. “I have seen, thus I know, that at least one representative of each race will convene in this church. Would that not be a better time to discuss what we all must face?”
“There is wisdom in what you say,” Mappel conceded. “That, I can not deny, but I do not like waiting, and there is little else for us to do.”
“Not necessarily,” Stephen said with a renewed twinkle in his eyes. The relaxed and comforting smile returned to his lips as he again settled back into his chair. “I can explain the revelations in detail as I have seen them regarding what we must do, what I have seen happening and what I know is to come. With your knowledge of elflore we might put together a plan before we know all the secrets.”
“More wisdom,” Mappel nodded appreciatively.
“Thank you,” Stephen responded graciously. “I also have a question for you, which I already believe I know the answer. You haven’t found anyone from the delver race who might know their secret, have you?”
Mappel spoke with a grunt of dissatisfaction. Of all the tiers, he believed the human tier would be the most difficult to disclose. It was beyond him to believe that the human secret would be so close at hand, while another would remain more elusive. “No, I haven’t. I sent word to the dwarves to send one with the knowledge of Sanctum. I gave Ryson Acumen the same message to bring to the algors. But Ryson himself could give me no insight as to who to inquire about the secret of the delver’s tier.”
“Then we have a problem to deal with as well. I don’t know where to find that answer, either. In fact, I wouldn’t be surprised if the secret was lost. I hate to say things like that, but we have to face the possibility. Where the humans had the church of Godson to maintain the legends, the delvers had no church. In my dealings with them, I know they are aware of the legends but they don’t have any structured following that I know of. Their race became splintered and eventually absorbed by the humans. It is difficult enough these days to find a pure bred delver. This may mean their piece of the puzzle is lost.”
“If that is true, we may face a losing battle,” Mappel said. “I had not truly thought of the delver’s tier until now. I had spoken briefly to Ryson of it. He had hoped that Matthew might know of where to look.”
Both Stephen and Mappel turned a hopeful gaze toward the reader, but Matthew’s expression curtailed any further enthusiasm.
“I didn’t even know the human’s secret of the tiers,” he admitted with a sour grimace. “How should I be expected to know of what the delvers put in Sanctum?”
“Maybe Ryson thought you would know of someone in Connel who might know?” Stephen posed.
“He would know better than I. All I can suggest is asking other delvers. They mostly spend time at the Night Watch Inn. But what am I supposed to do? Just go up to total strangers, ask them if they are delvers and then ask them if they know of the secrets in Sanctum Mountain? I don’t think that would be wise.”
“No, it would not,” Mappel allowed. “But it is also unwise to ignore the issue. As Stephen has stated, Sanctum is a puzzle of five pieces. We gain little if we obtain only four.”
“I wouldn’t go that far,” Stephen said optimistically. “If we manage to agree on a way to reveal four of the secrets, that in itself is an accomplishment.”
“Small accomplishments will mean little if they do not lead to ultimate victory,” Mappel reminded the youthful interpreter as if to warn him of the price of failure. “This is not something in which we can accept limited success. We succeed fully, or we perish.”
“Maybe the best thing to do is wait until Ryson returns,” Matthew advised. “He would know the other delvers here in Connel. He would be the best to approach them.”
“That’s as good a plan as any,” Stephen chimed.
“It delays things,” Mappel replied sternly, “But I realize we have little other choice. For now I would like to hear the details of your visions. I want to know what you see in both of the alternative outcomes. There might indeed be something I might sense which will lead us in the right direction.”
Stephen crossed his hands in his lap and looked to Mappel with a true willingness to express his revelations. His voice, however, turned somber and near hollow despair rung from his words.
“I will tell you everything my mind has seen of both. I hope you can determine what to do because I can tell you the scene I see if we fail is a terrible and frightening thing to witness. We will all die slowly, withering away as the sphere turns our land into a sea of dust.”
Evan Chase, seasoned tracker, walked abruptly into Mayor Consprite’s office. He did not knock and no aide announced his arrival. The door swung open in total silence, without a click of the latch, without a squeal of the knob, and without a creak of the hinge. He stepped in like a hunting cat, and closed the door as quietly as it opened.
His eyes darted around the room but for a moment. In those passing seconds, he analyzed, interpreted, and judged every item within the confines of those walls. Nothing within his sight escaped his attention. He was aware of potential hazards as well as all sharp edged or heavy items which were in reach of the mayor. He also made spatial observations. He knew how far it was from the front of Consprite’s desk to the door, he noted the paths around furniture, and he observed that the window was locked.
He moved up to the mayor’s desk, stepping so lightly he barely disturbed the dust which came beneath the soles of his moccasins. His clothes moved with him as he stepped. He wore no coat or cloak. Animal hides formed his shirt and pants. They did not rustle or creak, but instead remained as silent as his own steps.
The mayor was aware of Chase’s presence, only because he was waiting impatiently for him, waiting and watching his door. If his attention had been upon papers on his desk, Chase could have poked him on the forehead before he even knew the tracker was in the room.
Chase acknowledged the mayor’s gaze, but his eyes would not lock upon Consprite’s stare. The tracker shifted his eyes about warily. He seemed more concerned with the movement and placement of the mayor’s hands than his expression.
The tracker’s own countenance was uncaring and shadowed by his own indifference toward appearances. His face was shaven roughly. Spots of stubble remained upon his chin and scattered about his throat - shaving with a hunting knife no matter how sharp and without a mirror is bound to lead to a less than perfect job. The shaggy mop of black hair on his head curled about in an unruly, unkempt mess. It covered both of his ears, including the one which was missing a huge chunk from a fight with a wolf.
The wolf won that battle, forced Evan to run up a tree. His thigh still ached when it rained from a savage bite received during that same encounter. He stayed away from wolves and dogs ever since.
Chase minced no words as he stopped in front of the mayor’s desk. “What do ya want?”
The mayor scratched the tip of his nose before addressing the tracker. He also decided to be blunt and to the point. “I need someone tracked and followed. I want to know where he’s been over the past two days and I want to know everything he does after you locate him.”
“Who?” The word came quick from the tracker’s mouth as if he spit out the question. It was quite evident that Evan Chase wasted little time, and knew too few words to waste any of those.
Consprite grimaced. He did not like being questioned with such bluntness, but he was well aware of his situation. As mayor, he had little that Chase wanted, and nothing he needed. He could not threaten the tracker with ordinances, or the restriction of permits and licenses. Chase probably used such papers to wipe his nose or light his smokes. The mayor was not dealing with a merchant, or a homeowner, he was dealing with an uncivilized barbarian that cared not at all for politics and power. Only gold enticed trackers, and thus the mayor replied sourly to the blunt question. “Ryson Acumen, he’s a delver.”
“I know who he is,” Chase spoke as if insulted.
The mayor continued, undaunted by the tracker’s lack of grace and tact. “Good, then you’ll know him when you find him. He left here several days ago to check out the damage to other towns from the quake.”
“An old trail,” Evan stated quickly, making it clear he considered such a thing more difficult and expected to be compensated for such.
Such a response was not lost on the mayor.
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