Delver Magic: Book 06 - Pure Choice (22 page)

Birk Grund did not care for the
human sorcerer's tone and appreciated the direction of the conversation even
less. He decided remaining quiet was no longer acceptable.

"Then maybe you should allow
us to try again," Birk stated firmly. "We will gladly utilize the
sequence you suggest and perhaps the wall will fall, if you do not
interfere."

Turning toward the voice, the
muscular man with dirty blonde hair smiled, but it was not a grin of good
humor. It revealed a twisted amusement.

"Ah, the captain of the elf
guard decides to enter the conversation. Birk Grund, isn't it?"

"It is, and may I ask your
name?"

"You may. I will even answer.
It's Ansas."

"You speak it as if I should
know you. Should I?"

"I have dealt with an elf
from your camp before. I was wondering if she might have spoken of me."

"Which elf?"

"That would be giving away
too much. I can already tell you don't know me. That's enough for me."

Rather than press the issue, Birk
decided to seek other answers, ones he believed held far more importance.

"Clearly you constructed this
barrier. I assume you are the one that brought us here."

"You assume correctly."

"Why?"

"Two reasons. One has to do
with the elf I have already mentioned, the one I had dealings with in the
past."

Birk suddenly realized the name of
the elf was far more important than he previously guessed and attempted to
rectify his mistake.

"You did not tell me the name
of the elf."

Ansas continued speaking as if he
had not been interrupted.

"The second reason has to do
with personal desires. I need magic casters, ones that are proficient and
remain focused on their inherent hue. In that regard, I should thank you
because you have made my task in that respect so much easier."

Ansas abruptly disregarded the elf
captain and turned back to the spell casters near the barrier.

"I have need of you and
you," the sorcerer revealed as he nodded to Scheff and Haven. "You
might also be of use," he continued as he looked to the elf who cast
emerald magic.

Without word or warning, he
brought his hands together and cast a spell in a single heartbeat. The ebony
magic shot from his fingers and created a dark ring high above his head. Three
darkened shadows dropped from the ring and fell upon the three elves the
sorcerer had indicated were deserving of his attention. The blackness fell upon
the magic casters like a heavy mist but quickly dissolved away, leaving nothing
behind. The elves were gone.

Birk needed nothing further to
act.

"Take him down!" the
captain shouted to guards he had stationed near the point of assault.

Several arrows split the air
before the echo of the order died away. Unfortunately, they would never reach
their target. A dark wind rose up from the ground beneath Ansas' feet and
turned into a swirling mass that surrounded the sorcerer. The spinning force
pulverized the arrows into dust before they came close to their mark.

Another eight elves rushed toward
the sorcerer with swords drawn, sprinting at full speed. Though they could not
match the speed of a delver, they still moved with an elf's quickness, and they
raced across the hard ground at a swiftness that would surprise most humans.

Ansas, however, disregarded the
charging elves, didn't reveal alarm for his safety or even mild concern over
the attack. As he examined the other elves that worked to destroy the magical
wall, the black twister that surrounded him expanded in a mighty rush of
outward force. While it passed through every elf around him, it only bore the
brunt of its strength on those with swords drawn.

Every charging elf was tossed
backwards like dry grass thrown into a gale force wind. Their bodies landed
hard on the ground and they suffered greatly from badly bruised flesh and
harshly broken bones.

The human sorcerer spoke as if
nothing had happened. He looked upon the elf named Flower.

"You are strong, but you cast
in crimson energy. I have no need of you. I also don't need the one that casts
in blue, but the six of you," he paused as he placed his attention on the
six elves that had fed the spell casters with energy. "You might be of
use. I have questions for you."

Ansas cast another spell and a
slightly larger dark ring formed over his head. Another grouping of shadows
dropped from the ebony circle and fell upon the six elves standing behind the
remaining spell casters. They disappeared just as the others.

Birk burned with fury, but he
contained his anger. He stepped up to the sorcerer and placed his hand on the
hilt of his sword. He did not know if the threat might lead to his destruction,
but he would not stand idle, would not cower to the powerful magician.

"Return them," he
demanded in a low growl.

Ansas gave but one brief glance at
the elf captain and then moved past him as if he did not exist. He stepped
directly up to Shantree Wispon.

"Are you still concerned with
the loss of magic?" he asked.

Shantree said nothing. She stared
back at the sorcerer with an expression of resolved opposition.

"You worry too much,"
Ansas continued. "If I wanted you all dead, it would have already
happened. I didn't bring you here to die. I know you need energy to survive. I
shall make sure you have enough."

As Ansas raised his hand, she tried
to back away.

"I do not..."

She could not finish. Her body
became stiff even as she could actually feel her soul tremble within her.

Ansas did not ask for her
permission. He simply forced his magic into her, whether she wanted it or not.
It would be enough to keep the elf camp alive, for at least a while, and that
was all he cared about.

"Use it wisely."

Ansas faded out of sight, turning
first into a gray haze—like little ink spots merged into a silhouette of his
solid form—and then dissolving completely away. While his physical presence
might have departed, he left a wake strong enough so that none would doubt his
resolve or his authority. The barrier that surrounded the elves remained
completely intact, as strong as it was before the elf spell casters began their
assault. He also left his captives with a new reckoning of his intentions and a
clear memory of his authority.

While their imprisonment continued
unabated, the elves could not deny the sorcerer's ability to come and go as he
pleased. Somehow the barrier confined them to that space, neutralized every
attempt to teleport or create a portal, but Ansas was under no such
constraints. The force field represented a stark domination that would crush
their spirit, yet bend to the sorcerer's will.

The elves also understood, without
doubt, that their options of attack dwindled down to nothing. Their weapons
were useless against the sorcerer. Arrows could not penetrate Ansas' defenses,
and swords were only useful if they could get near. Those that had attacked him
had paid the price and found themselves in broken heaps, scattered across the
rocky grounds of the dark realm.

With physical conflict rendered futile,
a magical clash seemed the only alternative. Sadly, their efforts in that
regard did not hold any greater hope. Their foe revealed far more power than
they could level individually or even collectively. Further, their most
proficient magic casters had been stolen away by a wave of a hand and one
simple spell.

What was left for them to do?

Lose hope.

And so they did, and in great
numbers. They cast disbelieving glances at the ground where the evil magic
caster disappeared and then at the resurgent barrier they knew would not fall.
The elf camp was trapped by a power they could not match and held by a foe they
could not defeat.

While it was the elf elder's
responsibility to lead her camp, Shantree Wispon initially disregarded the
devastating despair that fell over those that remained imprisoned. She made no
rallying plea, no forceful speech. Instead, she acted with all haste and
focused upon the welfare of those that required immediate aid.

She raced to each fallen elf who
had succumbed to Ansas' force blast. She quickly cast spells of healing to mend
their bones and restore their flesh. While the other elves had given up much of
their stored energy in the assault against the barrier, Shantree suddenly had
more than enough magic within her, a token gesture from Ansas. It was energy
she could use for the benefit of her camp, but she instinctively knew it was no
benevolent gift.

Deep within, the elf elder felt
the foreign energy make its own place within her magical core. Shantree
instinctively knew she could utilize it, but only to a degree. She understood
that Ansas infused her with magic for his own purposes, not hers. He wanted the
elves to remain alive, for he was not through with them. He instilled within
her the means to heal and to nourish, but he did not share her compassionate
motives.

It pained her to aid the sorcerer,
to be part of his cruel designs, but she could not deny her basic desire to
keep her followers alive. She attempted to concentrate only on the good she
could accomplish and on the elf lives she could save, but a shadow crossed her
soul with every spell that she cast. Trying to blot out the sorcerer's desires
was an impossible task, for the dark magic within her reinforced Ansas'
intentions.

With all of the injured elves
restored to a healthy state, Shantree turned her attention to their meager food
and water supplies. She directed her newfound source of energy toward the small
well the elves had dug. Previously, the scarce magic absorbed from the realm
was utilized to invigorate the flow and to purify the stagnant water. The elder
fed the filters that magically cleansed the thick sludge bubbling deep in the
pits of the dark realm.

She then concentrated on the
plants that offered fruits and nuts, life that was coaxed out of the barren
soil by the grace of emerald energy that was so prevalent in the elves. She
enriched the soil, strengthened the roots, and energized the growth of each
stem. In mere moments, the potential harvest from the plants tripled.

The elves would not starve, nor
would they suffer from lack of clean water, but Shantree also knew they would
not escape. She had hoped the immediate address of basic needs would encourage
her camp, keep optimism alive, but it was near dead within her, a victim of the
power that Ansas forced inside of her.

It was not evil she felt within
her, but rather more like capitulation. The magic violated both her body and
spirit. It took residence in her core without her permission, and it would stay
there until she used it according to its conditions.

Unable to cast out the energy in
any other form, she resigned herself to the grim situation. The elves of her
camp would remain trapped in the dark realm and she would serve, in some
respects, as a tool for the conquering sorcerer. Needing to address the full
scope of the predicament, she moved with a quick step—far faster than she had walked
in many cycles of the seasons—and took council with the elf guard captain.

Birk Grund eyed the elf elder with
more concern than suspicion, but he could not shake the image of what he had
seen. The sorcerer had placed magic within Shantree, energy that she appeared
to use for the benefit of the camp, but he needed to gauge the possibility of
potential corruption.

"What did he do to you?"
he asked with respect, but also with an expression that demanded an answer. If
Shantree's allegiance had been compromised, he would have to know.

"He fed me with his magic.
That is all I can tell. I do not believe there are any malicious intentions
within the energy, other than a limit to its potential use. As he said, he
wants to keep us alive. That is what the magic is for. I cannot deny that, in
some ways, I am helping him, but I would do no less with any energy available
to me."

"You do not believe he is
controlling you in any way?"

"No, he retains a certain
level of control over the magic, but he has not altered my conscience."

"Can you be certain?"

Shantree frowned, but then took a
deep breath and examined the power within her. It was available for her use,
but it remained separate from the small amount of magical energy that she
contained as an elf. Like a storm cloud that took distinct shape in an
otherwise blue sky, the energy from Ansas staked out a space of its own.

"Actually, yes, I am certain.
It is not mixing with what I am. It is totally separate. I can sense that. It
is almost as if it wants nothing to do with me, but it is there for me to
use... to keep the camp alive. If it had evil intent, it would try to become
part of me, and it is not. It is difficult to explain how I sense this, but I
do."

Birk did not wish to be skeptical
of the camp elder, but he could not dismiss his own responsibilities.

"That may be true, and it is
not my desire to doubt you, but I must remain suspicious of the sorcerer and
his intentions. If he has taken control of you, that is exactly what you might
say in order to calm my fears."

"I understand... far better
than you can imagine. I say hold to your fears, remain suspicious of me. If I
do something that lacks reason, by all means, stop me... destroy me if you
must."

"You mean kill you?"

"I do. It is also an order of
your camp elder. Do not hesitate."

But it was an order that was not
so easily followed. The duty of the elf guard was to protect the camp, and the
elder above all else. Without a leader, the camp would fall into disarray.
Killing the elder, even to protect the camp, was a contradiction in elf guard
duty, and yet, the order was given by the elder herself. Birk struggled to find
the proper response.