Delver Magic III: Balance of Fate - Jeff Inlo (ready player one ebook .TXT) 📗
- Author: Jeff Inlo
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He took a moment to take another look overhead. “Now, how do I get there? Tree lined paths through the old park and then the cemetery, that’s a good bet. Seems like goblins are sticking to the roads, just don’t know which roads, sounds like all of them. Ok, one block at a time. Shortest path to park is that way,” and he nodded his head due north.
As silently as he could, he pressed aside a series of branches that made up the lower portion of the hedge in front of him. It was not an easy fit, but he made it through. Once on the other side of the hedge he wasted no time in jumping to his feet and running to the back of a newer home that was now in front of him. He clung to the wall and with his back against it, slid his way to the corner.
This house faced a newer street, a wider street, and with no trees lining either side. It was open ground and he could hear goblin movements in almost every direction. He had no idea where his enemies might be at the moment.
“Not going to just trust luck,” he grumbled. He took the crossbow from his back, loaded a bolt, and aimed at the back of another home a good distance down the road to his left. “Have to hope they hear the glass and not the sound of the bow. I guess if they’re close enough to distinguish that, then I’m as good as dead anyway.”
Joel pulled the trigger and watched hopefully as the bolt made a long arc through the air. The window was a large target but it was far in the distance. It almost seemed as if the bolt was traveling in slow motion. Thankfully, it hit its mark and the glass shattered. Joel did not pause to watch through his spyscope. He crouched low, and hustled off in the opposite direction toward the neighboring house to his right. He bounded around the corner, down the side and front yards, and finally across the street. He almost expected to feel the stinging pain of arrows piercing his legs, but he made it to the cover of an overgrown flower bed and dropped to the ground. He looked up and down the street and saw nothing. He didn’t know if his diversion made any difference, but at least it felt better than simply running and hoping for the best.
He had to make it across several more streets closer to the center of town before he could make it to the park, but thankfully it was quieter here. He could still hear the sounds of skirmishes in almost every direction, but the alleys he now traveled remained still. He kept to the sides of buildings and had to dodge for cover twice when he heard the hook hawk closing in on his position. Eventually, he made it to the park and turned westward.
Though it was dormant season, the ground here was free of snow and ice. It had been dry so far this season and Joel was thankful for this. Still, the ground remained hard and frozen as the sun hung low in the horizon and direct light could not break the shadows of the thicker rows of trees. Evergreens allowed for greater cover and Joel used them to his advantage. He made it through the park in quicker time and stopped to gauge his next path.
A stone fence separated the park from the cemetery. He would have to jump it. It was only a few feet high, but his body did not look forward to the task. Right now, he felt every year of his age. His lungs fought harder for air and his lower back throbbed. An arthritic knee let him know it wasn’t happy either. His hands bled from various scrapes and cuts, but this wasn’t the time for bandages. He stood under a large spruce and gauged the distance to the stone wall and then the terrain of the ground beyond.
The cemetery would be open ground around the headstones, not the best place to travel. The stone wall also stood mostly in open space, but there was enough overhang from trees in the park to give him sufficient cover there. He could travel the wall along the park border until it turned at the back end of the cemetery. Along this rear border, the wall changed over to a wrought iron fence. Most of the fence and back paths were as lined with trees. Unless the goblins had taken position along the fence, Joel believed a clear path now existed to the northwestern part of town that bordered the river.
With a little luck he could make it to the north bridge and perhaps find a store house to hide in. It would be dangerous, basically caught between the attackers and the river rogue, but hopefully they would all be concerned with each other. Enough different scents in the air and he might be able to conceal himself until nightfall at least. It was a good as plan as any.
When he made his first step out from under the pine tree, his plan changed drastically.
The ground rumbled before him and dirt shattered up in his face. He could feel his feet begin to slip under him in loose dirt. Luckily, his foot caught the stability of a large root near the surface and he avoided falling forward. He leapt back toward the trunk of the pine he previously used for cover and grabbed its trunk. The ground continued to crack and crumble and even more dirt flew into the air. In the next instant, a black as pitch mound rose up from the ground. It was the rounded, humped back of a rock beetle and it was looking for a meal.
Joel’s eyes widened in terror as glistening pinchers covered in hair and filth jutted out from the front of this disgusting creature. Multiple legs pitched the gigantic insect from the earth as the rest of its body broke from the surrounding soil. Joel didn’t need to see anymore. He took off back to the other end of the park, hoping he could outrun this thing.
#
Sazar saw the image of Joel fleeing flash through his mind. The serp continued his mental connection with the beetle. The old man, however, was not his main concern at this point. The beetle was needed to ascertain the position of the river rogue that staked a territory a bit further north of this point of the town. The rogue was not under Sazar’s control, not yet anyway. Sazar wished to avoid any conflict between the rogue and his own minions until he had the opportunity to visit the rogue and convince it to join with them rather than fight. For that, he needed time and more calm surroundings. So, for the time being, he wanted to pinpoint the exact location of the rogue and isolate it. Perhaps not totally isolate, as he would throw it a goblin or two for a quick snack and as a gesture of friendship. With the town now very near his grasp, he would have all the goblins he needed. Losing one or two to gain a river rogue was well worth the price.
“Forget the human,” Sazar hummed as he directed his thoughts to the beetle. When he made this kind of direct communication with one monster he would often lose links with others. It was at this time, Sazar risked losing an advantage of battle as the minds of his other minions he was controlling would go suddenly blank, as if a curtain had been pulled. The battle in the town, however, moved surprisingly well and far swifter than he had hoped. He could spare the momentary diversion.
Sazar could sense the beetle’s hunger and understood what it wanted. “Go north. Easier meals will be there waiting for you.”
He broke off direct communications with the beetle and established a connection with two goblins that were very near the cemetery. “Leave the cemetery and go north about two blocks. Wait there and don’t move.”
He then broke off that link and reestablished his focus on the assault forces that were quickly encircling the town.
“It would have been easier to feed the beetle some human remains, but I don’t have time to collect them at the moment,” the serp mused to himself. “I haven’t lost any goblins in the strike yet, so I guess if I lose two goblins to the beetle and two to the rogue I’ll hardly notice.”
#
Joel didn’t stop running until he got back to the center of town. It remained quiet in this area, but now intermittent shrieks of agony pierced the air in all directions. If he had any hopes of reaching the north bridge, they died with the appearance of the beetle. With relative quiet at his current position and his back to the wall of some unknown building, he knew his options dwindled.
“Ok, I’m not getting out of here. Truth is, I pretty much knew that a long time ago. If I was going to leave, I would have done that weeks ago. Didn’t want to leave then, so why bother now? Just a matter of where to go.”
He looked back toward the direction of his own home.
“If I’m going to die, then it’s going to be there.”
Lief Woodson stood patiently in the limbs of a very tall oak tree. His eyes scanned the forest while noting the positions of the elf guards that stationed themselves in surrounding trees. The dormant season made this endeavor slightly more possible. All but the evergreens had dropped their leaves. Most of the elite elf guard managed to conceal their presence well, but those that were forced to reconnoiter wider paths gave away their position with slight movements.
A muffled breeze pulled in colder air from the north, but because elves, for the most part, enjoyed indifference to colder temperatures, Lief felt no true chill. If anything, he welcomed the fresh air that would keep this day crisp and dry. The sun hung low as it was the season of lesser light, but the sky remained a deep blue and even the penetrating grey of the woods could not dampen the sparkle of sunlight when it chanced upon scattered ice trapped within the surrounding branches.
Lief switched his gaze downward upon the members of his camp. For the most part, they busily moved about the forest floor. Nearly all seemed occupied with other tasks—collecting wood, mending clothes, crafting weapons or tools. Only one or two of the camp elders seemed to pay his meeting with Standish Loftber any true mind.
Loftber also stood silently in the very same limbs as Lief, leaning carefully against a stout branch that angled slightly toward him. His gaze was far off, focused on nothing in particular. It was almost as if the deep grey of the forest swallowed his consciousness. He closed his eyes heavily as if garnering his strength. When he opened them, they bore into Lief.
“Petiole has been delivered to the dwarves of Dunop, as you already know,” the older Loftber began. “I have no idea whether they will condemn him to death for his crimes or imprison him in their dungeon for what is left of his life, nor do I care.” This last was said with near disgust. “I only know he will not be returning and this leaves our camp without a leader.”
Loftber paused and bowed his head slightly as he
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