Delver Magic: Book 06 - Pure Choice (20 page)

Only minor surprise struck the elf
captain. Initially, Shantree wanted to conserve the magic in order to survive,
and it was Birk's intention to balance his assault with the camp elder's
desire. He would only use what was necessary, but she had changed the course of
her objectives. She gave her full support to the assault on the barrier, and
like any good leader, once she made her decision, she did not wish to restrain
her forces. To do so would show indecisiveness, weakness, and that was not the
way of Shantree Wispon.

"I understand," Birk
acknowledged. "I will make the proper adjustments. We will not limit our
assault, and I am prepared to face any repercussions should we fail."

Shantree shook her head
resolutely. She would not allow Birk to shoulder her burdens. Despite the
weariness that continued to grind at her every fiber, she stood firm in her
decisions and expected to be held accountable for each one.

"It was ultimately my
decision," the elf leader declared, "and I will take responsibility
for any failure. You offered an opportunity, and I accepted your proposal.
Blame shall not be your reward regardless of the outcome."

"I appreciate that, but I
believe blame or praise no longer matters. If this does not work, I do not know
what else we can do."

"Let us worry about that only
if that is what we face... and let us hope it is not. What do you need from
me?"

"I would ask that you stand
near and watch. It will encourage our spell casters if they know our leader
stands with us."

"I shall do so
willingly."

They walked together to the edge
of the barrier where several elves congregated. They took slow, but steady
steps. The elf guard captain allowed the elder to move at her own deliberate
pace. He made no attempt to guide her or assist her labored movements.

She was thankful for the respect.
She slept little since their arrival in the dark realm, and though she could
not be sure how many days had past, she was certain it was far too many. The
tired ache of her muscles made movement difficult, but she did not wish to
appear dependent on another. Even the appearance of frailty would not help
their cause. The elves of her camp looked to her for strength and resolve, and
she refused to disappoint them.

When they reached the appropriate
spot, Birk asked Shantree to give him a moment. He needed to address the other
elves—discuss the appropriate utilization of magical energies and adjust the
planned dispersal of power. Every elf would be encouraged to unleash every bit
of magic.

Speaking with several elf magic
casters, he advised them to concentrate greater energy against the barrier.
Once they all understood and acknowledged that no effort would be spared, he
returned to Shantree's side.

"They are going to begin in a
few moments." He motioned to a half dozen elves that stood behind several
other magic casters near the wall. "The six further back will call on as
much energy as they can absorb. They will feed the casters with magic as they
weave their spells. They will now pull from all available sources. Do not be
alarmed if you feel as if you are being drawn to them. The magic will flow
heavily through us all."

"I understand," Shantree
replied.

Birk pointed to two elves nearest
the edge of the domed obstruction.

"Those two shall monitor the barrier.
They have already cast a spell that allows them to see the intrinsic strength
of the force field. They are not quite linked to the barrier spell itself, but
they have been able to match their vision to the tune of the vibrations emitted
from the obstacle. They believe that the vibrations will become erratic as the
field weakens. Once all the casters are ready, they will direct the assault.
They will determine the order of the spell castings and which hues to
utilize."

"Have they decided who will
go first?" Shantree wondered aloud.

"Scheff Rutlan," Birk
announced. "He is the most accomplished of our magic casters. He has
achieved a near perfect circle and he casts in dark violet. Of all the elves in
our camp, his inherent hue is the closest to pure ebony. We believe we need to
match the essence of the spell to the best of our ability at the beginning,
then we might devise the path to break it down."

"Dark violet," Shantree
whispered, "the power of the storm."

Birk nodded and said no more. He
watched and waited as the first elf began shaping his energy into the proper
spell.

Scheff Rutlan moved close enough
to the barrier to almost reach out and touch it. Stepping between the two elves
that monitored the force field, he also seized the essence of the barrier. It
was made of pure magic, but the energy from the field rebuked him. He could
feel the power swirling throughout the dark but translucent wall, and he let
his own magical essence bubble out from his core. As the two energies came in
close contact, the force that constructed the barrier opposed the violet energy
within him.

The magic that coursed through the
barrier pulsed in harmony with the surrounding lands. It echoed with the
screams of death in the distance, and it surged with the long shadows that
stretched across its surface. It flowed up into the sultry air, and it embraced
the hard lifeless soil. Most of all, it throbbed in joyous recognition of the
constant upheaval that surrounded it. It thrived in the chaotic change of the
dark realm, as if its entire essence was constructed from the very fabric of
that twisted reality.

Scheff could do more than just
feel the awesome strength within the barrier. He could see it. As he pulled at
the energy, placed himself within the flow of magic that constructed the force
field, a thick blanket of ebony magic spilled into his consciousness. It was
the purest black he had ever seen and it filled him with awe.

The magic that fueled the barrier
was near indescribable. It was beyond shadow, beyond night. It was larger than
loneliness and greater than grief. It was all encompassing. It was the border
between realities, the very transition from one existence to another, and the
absolute boundary between one life and the next. It was the hollow void of
emptiness, and the absolute grip of alteration within each existence. Its
overwhelming reach into pure nothingness was total, complete... perfect.

Even as the great shadow of magic
engulfed his spirit, Scheff felt it reject him. The blackness swept across the
purple hue of his essence, unwilling to mix with energy unfit to join its
purity. It seemed as if the magic scoffed at him, ridiculed the elf for being
inferior. It did not bother to press the violet energy aside, or charge through
like some invader at a gate. It did not try to overwhelm the elf, or obliterate
him in a burst of dominance. It simply allowed itself to be acknowledged by the
elf, as if offering a peek at magnificence.

Feeling hopelessness grow within
him, Scheff could do little more than allow the flow of ebony pureness to pass
through him and then disregard him as an insignificant insect. With the dark
shadow gone from his spirit, he took hold of the violet magic that was his to
control. It felt small, almost powerless.

It was so strange. He had the
ability to cast spells of tremendous force. He could create storms that could
devastate the land, and yet, he knew he could not even dent the barrier before
him. The black magic that had built the wall did not challenge the elf or even
mock him. It just dismissed him, and Scheff knew it.

Disregarding his sudden sense of
inadequacy, Scheff brought the full measure of his violet power to a sharpened
point. He knew any attempt to completely overcome the barrier was pure folly,
but that was already understood by all the elves that stood beside him. It was
not his charge to break the barrier, or even to dent it. He only needed to find
a way to disturb it, even ever so slightly. A drop of water cannot break
through a stone wall, but an infinite number of raindrops could flood the land
and carve great valleys from the strongest rock foundations. He was but the
first drop of water.

Scheff pressed his palms together
in front of his narrow face. He closed his eyes and opened himself up to magic
that was fed to him through several links formed by the elves behind him. He
turned the magic over in his soul, brought out the purple hue in every strain
that entered his being.

A near perfect circle formed
initially around his wrists, but the ring quickly grew and encompassed his
entire body. It swirled around his head and shoulders with the center focused
at the middle of his pressed palms. The ring grew wide and quickly caught the
attention of every elf trapped in the dark realm.

Confining all the power within him
into a single spell, Scheff formed that single drop of water deep in his
consciousness, that small bead that seemed so irrelevant but signaled the start
of a mighty storm. It was hard and sharp, the perfect stone that could drop a
giant if thrown with faith. In that small droplet, the purple force pulsed with
its own fury. It could not match the potent throb of the ebony wall, but it
became the embodiment of Scheff's inherent power. It was the strength of a
hurricane in a single stone of hail and Scheff held it at the core of his being
until it became far too intense to contain.

Unleashing the condensed ball of
violet magic, the elf spell caster directed it into the wall before him. The
projectile flashed out from the center of his hands. The purple ring of energy
that once swirled around the elf followed the trail and exploded upon the
surface of the barrier.

A great flash of lightning burst
across the obstruction and a clap of thunder shook the ground. The wave of
force nearly knocked Shantree Wispon from her feet, but Birk Grund caught her
before she completely lost her balance. A burst of wind exploded from the point
of contact and the sudden blast dislodged several weakened branches from the
surrounding half-dead trees.

Scheff did not simply unleash the
spell and separate himself from the energy. He held to it as if grasping the
string to a kite lost high in a night sky. He forced his will against the
massive ebony energy, sought to peel a small portion of the black magic away
from the barrier.

The obstruction swallowed the
attack, but not without consequence. The mass of black energy could not diffuse
the sudden onslaught. It did not fall or buckle, or even crack, but it did
shudder. The violet magic rippled through the translucent wall and Scheff
shouted out his advance.

"I have not broken through,
but I have intertwined my spell with the barrier!"

The two monitors noted the
remarkable achievement, far greater success than either had expected.

"The wall has not weakened,
but the ebony magic is spreading apart to envelop the influx of the purple hue!"
one monitor reported.

The second observer considered the
implications and then offered his assessment for the next spell.

"The storm creates the wake,
let water flush into the passage!"

They all agreed, and while Scheff
continued to force his spell against the obstruction, another elf—powerful in
the casting of blue magic—moved to his side. The second caster could not quite
cast with the same efficiency as Scheff. His circle of control fluctuated at
times, but his influence over water was unmatched by any other elf within the
camp.

Blue was the perfect compliment to
the violet storm. They worked in tandem. As the purple magic created the
passage, the azure energy flowed heavily behind in its wake. The force of water
expanded the pressure, seeped into the essence of the barrier and bubbled with
boiling fury.

The monitors directed their
attention on the emissions of the force field. The integrity of the black
energy held, but it continued to tremble against the concentrated assault. The
rhythm of the vibrations from the barrier became unsteady, the flow of magic
that coursed throughout the translucent wall flared with irregularity.

At first, many elves grew
optimistic. They believed their plan might ultimately cause the breach they
needed far sooner than expected. Several elf sorcerers—talented and experienced
in creating portals to other dimensions—readied themselves to dash through any
break in the field. If they could just escape the prison, they believed they
could return to Uton and gain the help they needed.

Despite the growing tremors
through the force field, the barrier would not dissolve even a pinprick. Those
who monitored the ebony magic, however, understood the battle had just begun.
It was not their ambition to destroy the obstruction with two waves of magic,
but to weaken it, to peel away the strength of the wall with patience and
perseverance.

"What next?" one monitor
asked of the other. "Land or nature?"

"Red magic," came the
reply. "Let the power of rock and soil follow the water. It will take hold
of our advances, hold firm against retreat. Then we will follow with the
emerald energy of nature. The crimson energy will form the base for the green
energy to thrive."

Both monitors agreed, but before
they would let the elf graced with control over red magic cast her spell, they
bid Scheff to cease his spell of storms.

"The violet casting must end
and the blue energy must be strengthened first. If all three come together at
once, the storm will overwhelm the other two. The three hues will merge. That
is not what we want. Red and blue must be allowed to work in concert with each
other, but not in such a way that they become so intertwined they simply feed
the violet power."

Scheff complied with the
instruction, and just as another elf prepared a blast of crimson magic, he
ceased his spell. The power that was fed into him broke away and was offered to
the other two elves that cast spells of blue and red fury. As he felt the
energy drain away, he nearly collapsed from exhaustion.