Delver Magic: Book 06 - Pure Choice (49 page)

With a delver's quick eye, he
considered his surroundings. Danger lurked overhead and on the ground to his
right. Though Ansas was the main threat, he could not discount a possible
attack from the other three magic casters that had sided with the sorcerer.
They were all dangerous, but none of them could match his speed, and just as he
had always done, he prepared to use it to survive.

Ansas, however, announced his own
truth.

"You've earned your death,
delver. I would have made it quick, but you seemed to take too much pleasure in
striking me. You almost had me, and if you weren't so weak, you might have
actually defeated me. If it gives you comfort, you can take that to your grave,
but the last thing I want you to remember is that your wife is mine to use as I
please."

Ansas didn't even bother to lift
his arms, as if to prove he could cast a spell of devastation on sheer will
alone. A shadowy circle formed around him and then slowly drifted down his
body. Once the ring of dark magic broke free of the sorcerer, it floated toward
Ryson Acumen.

"I know you think you can
dodge this," Ansas declared, "but you can't. You have no where to run
and it will follow you wherever you go. You can leap off the ledge, and if you
somehow survive the fall, it will still find you. When it does, it will engulf
you and slowly suffocate you. You won't die quickly, not by any means. Each
breath you take will grow smaller and smaller. You will struggle but remain conscious.
Your head will pound and your chest will burn. Even as you try to run from your
own death—which the magic will make you want to do—you will realize you can't
escape. That won't stop you. You will be a delver to the end, and you will run
and run even as you take your last shallow breath. That is what will kill
you."

Ryson listened to every word, and
though the last thing he wished to do was submit to the sorcerer, he could not
deny the fear that began to reach its way deep into his spirit. To any delver,
it was a horrible end, but one he had no intention of meeting. He had outraced
death before, he would do so again. He prepared himself, thought of Linda, and
almost broke into a delver run. Only the voice of the cliff behemoth held him
in place.

"It can't hurt you,"
Dzeb announced with a gentle voice. "Let it strike you."

Ryson was astounded. He couldn't
even voice his surprise, but his expression revealed it when he looked toward
the giant.

"You know that there is magic
within you," Dzeb continued, "but there is also something more. It
was never your sword or the delver magic that allowed you to persevere. It was
the spirit within you, a spirit that is blessed by Godson."

Ryson didn't move, but he faced
doubt. He did not live by the same faith as the cliff behemoth. He lived by the
grace of being a delver, always depending on his senses and his speed.

Still, he could not discount a
simple truth. In all of his trials, he never believed he was alone. Even upon
that plateau, he was surrounded by friends, friends he knew would not betray
him. Yet all of them stood solemnly by, not unwilling to offer assistance, but
apparently deeming it unnecessary; even as a cruel and imminent death hung over
him.

Holli did not move to aid him, nor
did Enin. He would have trusted both of them with his life. Certainly both had
the power to help in some way, and yet they made no attempt. He did not believe
they would let him perish so callously. He could not accept that... would not
accept it.

His last glance fell upon Linda.
He understood her lack of concern. Arasaps had invaded her body and mind,
placed themselves in a position to feed off the spell residue forced into her
by Ansas' scheming. Their presence deadened her emotions and left her a shell
of her previous self.

They had been through so much
together. She accepted him as a delver and he allowed her to become the anchor
for his heart. They met just when the magic returned to the land, and they had
survived its influence over Uton... together.

Right before the shadow of magic
encased him, Ryson remembered Enin's words.

Think about saving Linda.

That was what the wizard
instructed. It wasn't about defeating the sorcerer. It was about helping his
wife, but the direct path was not open to him. Linda's body had been infiltrated
by creatures of no real substance, and the delver had no way to reach into
Linda and pull them out. The arasaps were beyond his grasp.

Only Ansas had a connection to the
creatures, for he had placed his dark energy in them before they entered Linda's
magically immune body. If Ryson could just find some way to force the sorcerer
to pull upon that magical connection, Linda would be saved. But how could he
overcome Ansas' control over the magic? He couldn't.

And yet, Ryson began to realize
that there was a reason for him to be on that plateau. He was a delver, and
despite the difficulties and strains it caused with his wife, he would always
be a delver.

In facing Ansas, he didn't have to
discount his senses. He could use them, but he had to use all of them. All
around him, there was something beyond what he could see, smell, and hear.
There was something he could touch... not with his fingers, but something he
could feel with his spirit. Once he acknowledged it, he could sense it in other
ways as well. He could hear the comforting words of truth if he listened hard
enough. He could see his hope for salvation in the faces of those around him,
see it in the eyes of the cliff behemoth and even in the expressionless gaze of
his wife.

There was a greater force at work,
something trying to guide him... something larger than the magic, and it had
always been with him. It was inside him, but it was also an external force that
worked its own will to help guide those that would heed the call. Yes, there
was strength within him, power in being a delver, but he could never dismiss
where that strength came from, for that was Ansas' mistake.

And just as Ansas' dark ring of
death fell upon him, enveloped him fully prepared to carry out the sorcerer's
will, Ryson finally understood what he had to do. He couldn't explain it; it
would be like describing what an apple taste like.

He accepted the cliff behemoth's
words. He believed the magical shadow could not harm him. He accepted it on
faith... and with the belief that if he could not be hurt, then Linda would be
saved, for that was the ultimate truth.

Ryson immediately felt Ansas'
conceit spilling across his spirit. It saddened him. Every ounce of the energy
was empty, devoid of anything beyond the sorcerer's misguided delusion of his
own greatness. There was nothing else—no faith, no belief in anything beyond
the sorcerer's own abilities.

Ryson didn't try to redirect the
magic and he didn't attempt to forcibly place his own will into the energy.
Actually, it was just the opposite. He refused to struggle against the darkness
that surrounded him. He just peered into it without fear. He asked for nothing
from the shadow, and gave it nothing in return. He simply waited for it to
pass, as he knew it would.

Ansas' spell of death brought no
such suffering to the delver, an outcome the sorcerer could not comprehend.
Floating in the gray sky above the lifeless plateau, he raged against the
failure. Ansas' face twisted into a mass of disbelieving resentment as he tried
to force his will upon the shadow of power which he himself set upon the land.

As if to revolt against its
creator, the dark shroud lifted itself up and off of the delver and drifted to
an empty spot near the center of the high plain. It swirled into a larger oval
and an even darker shadow. It pulsated with a growing power of its own and soon
appeared like a shallow tunnel with no end.

Throwing off waves of dark magic,
the mysterious oval linked with every shred of Ansas' energy. Though the magic
could not pierce Linda's immune body, it hovered about her like a rotating
field of determined force and it pulled at the dark substance trapped within
her. It grabbed the remnants placed into the arasaps and removed the energy
from their very essence.

Unwilling to let go of the dark
power that kept them nourished, the arasaps had no choice but to follow. The
creatures oozed out of Linda's skin in a single wave, but quickly broke into
four distinct entities that slid across the barren ground. They appeared lost
and disoriented.

Linda collapsed the moment the
last of the arasaps left her body. She fell into the hands of the cliff
behemoth who held her in his massive arms.

With the arasaps out in the open,
Enin did not hesitate and cast an immediate spell the monsters could not avoid.
The wizard teleported the creatures back to the low lands of the dark realm,
far away from them all.

The shadowed oval did not cease
its taking with the arasaps. It sent a single spear of magic toward Shantree
Wispon.

The elf elder, who was not immune
to magic, stepped toward the shadowed flare. She allowed it to enter her body
willingly and just as willingly allowed it to remove the mark of dark magic
that Ansas had placed within her.

Setting its sights on the final
hosts, the shadowy mass removed the share of dark energy from all three spell
casters brought to the plateau, disregarding their screams of torment and pain.
It left them crumpled and unconscious on the ground, just as Ansas had left
Scheff.

With no remaining remnants to
claim, it took hold of the power within the sorcerer himself. It ripped it all
from him in one massive wave as if to chastise Ansas for his complete failure.
In that same instant, the swirling mass pulled back upon the strands of magic
it had released. It returned to a simple oval that hovered slightly above the
ground, nothing more than a shadowed hole in reality.

Without magic, Ansas dropped from
the sky. He remained conscious, but only barely. When his body struck the hard,
unforgiving plateau, he groaned in pain.

Ryson never saw the sorcerer fall.
When the arasaps left Linda, he ran to her side, ignoring everything else
around him. He stepped up directly to Dzeb, who carefully held Linda's
unconscious body. The delver stroked her hair and touched her face, pleased to
feel the warmth of her skin but still overwhelmed with concern over her
condition.

"Linda? Can you hear
me?"

She remained silent—still
breathing, still alive—but unable to speak.

He watched her for long moments,
hoping she would open her eyes and display that joyous emotion he longed for.
He called to her again.

"Linda?"

It was Enin who responded after he
dispatched the arasaps and then watched the shadowy oval reclaim its empty
magic. Ansas had fallen, but the conflict was not quite over. While the wizard
knew Ryson faced additional challenges, he willingly offered comfort to his
friend.

"Don't worry, Ryson. She'll
be fine. The arasaps are gone. There's nothing left of them inside of her, but
it will take her a while before she regains consciousness."

Ryson wouldn't remove his gaze
from his wife, but he needed to be certain.

"You're sure?"

"Absolutely. She will need
rest, but she will be fine. You saved her."

That simple statement brought joy
to Ryson's soul, but only for a moment. He remembered who was responsible for
all his hardships, and the anger that he buried to survive the death spell
surfaced once more. He swirled around to find the sorcerer. He saw Ansas lying
in a heap upon the ground.

He clamped down on the sudden urge
for vengeance, but only for a brief moment as he looked up to Dzeb.

"Take care of her."

"That is why I'm here."

Knowing that Linda would be safe,
Ryson released the restraint that held him in place. In one quick rush, he
dashed past the dark oval that continued to float just above the ground.
Somehow, the delver understood the shifting mass had removed all of the
sorcerer's magic. He bounded toward Ansas with a shadow of renewed anger
covering his own heart. His feet stopped just short of the sorcerer's head. He
looked down with contempt upon the prone body of his foe and realized the
sorcerer had been injured. He didn't care. He grabbed Ansas roughly by the
shirt and lifted him up off the ground.

Ansas groaned in pain. He was
empty. His magical energy gone. The fall to the plateau broke several of his
bones, and when Ryson twisted him around so they would be face to face, a jolt
of unbelievable pain exploded across his body. He almost passed out, but the
delver shook him hard. Another stab of pain kept him conscious.

"It's over," the delver
growled. "The arasaps are gone and so is your magic. I don't know how I
know, but I do. You have nothing left, do you? Do you?!"

Ansas couldn't answer. He just let
out a moan.

Ryson grew weary of holding the
sorcerer up and flung him to the ground. He remained over Ansas, his fury
boiling in his head. He no longer saw a powerful spell caster reveling in the
glory of his own self-ascribed godhood. He saw a pathetic insect willing to
cause pain and suffering in some deluded quest for twisted perfection.

"What happened to your
control of the magic?!" Ryson demanded. "What happened to your pure
ebony power?!"

"I don't understand,"
Ansas mumbled.

"Do you think I care?! Do you
remember what you said about my wife? Do you?!"

Ansas wouldn't answer, he couldn't.
He was unable to stand, let alone think straight. He was beyond defeated. He
was completely broken, his beliefs shattered. The energy that once swelled
within him was yanked from his core like so many loose teeth. He was left
wounded and powerless, unable to rise and incapable of casting the most
insignificant spell. He was defenseless.