Delver Magic Book VII: Altered Messages (15 page)

He stopped after saying the name, as if it caused him great pain in his midsection. He looked down at the floor, followed the designs in the carpet with his eyes. It was no longer a harmless distraction. The pattern created the image of a face in his mind. He saw Lief Woodson in the rug, and he suddenly wished to rip out every fiber. His agitation was palpable to every serp.

Macheve decided to take an enormous risk. She could not be certain how Petiole would react to what she was about to say, but she believed it would bring the old elf a level of comfort. In that, she hoped to gain a degree of favor that she could exploit in the future.

"Did you know Lief Woodson is dead?" Macheve asked.

The revelation appeared to soothe the old and unsteady elf's emotions.

"Dead?" Petiole questioned without looking up from the floor.

"Yes, killed by a sorceress in the desert."

Petiole smiled.

"He's gone," Macheve confirmed, "basically forgotten."

Petiole smile dimmed slightly as he appeared reluctant to accept that the memories of Lief Woodson could be so easily wiped away.

"No one forgets. He became a legend. He helped destroyed Ingar's sphere... just like Mappel."

"Ah, yes," Macheve responded, as she noted the increased disgust in the old elf's voice. "Mappel. The elf elder that you replaced after he died on
Sanctum Mountain. Mappel became a legend as well, didn't he?"

The smile totally evaporated on Petiole's face.

"Yes," the old elf hissed. "Another legend."

"But, as I said, he died on
Sanctum Mountain. He's gone, just like Lief... no longer here to torture you."

It wasn't true. The memories of both were still torturing Petiole, and his bitterness resurfaced.

"No one forgets," Petiole repeated himself. "I did not forget."

"I see. You were compared unfavorably to Mappel. Is that it? And then Lief Woodson questioned you. You weren't Mappel and you couldn't stand up to Lief. It must have been difficult."

The elf continued to stare downward, but he disregarded the rug. He no longer saw any intricate design or vivid colors. His mind brought back the memory of the dwarf dungeon. He saw only the stone floor of his prison cell under Dunop's castle. He began to walk about the room in the same manner he paced his cell, retracing the same steps of the circular path he scuffed into the rock.

It appeared as if Macheve was losing Petiole, allowing his consciousness to drop back into isolation. Surprisingly, the serp kept feeding the elder elf's insecurities.

"There were others that doubted you, weren't there? Holli Brances?"

Petiole didn't respond, and Macheve grew more forceful in her questioning.

"Do you remember Holli Brances? Answer me! Do you remember Holli Brances?"

"An elf guard," Petiole mumbled. "She was supposed to protect me."

"As all elf guards are sworn to do. She was supposed to die before she let any harm come to you. But she let them take you, didn't she? She let the elves chain you and bring you to the dwarves."

"Yes."

"In fact, not one elf guard came to your aid. They let their elder take the blame. They handed you over to the dwarves... to the enemy."

Petiole stopped his pacing. His eyes blazed with hatred as he recalled the moment he entered the tunnels of Dunop.

"Yes, they blamed me! They stopped listening to me. They all did... every elf in my camp.
MY
camp!"

"But it was never really
your
camp, was it? It was Mappel's camp before you, and then, when you were the rightful leader, they looked to others when they questioned your ability. The elves looked to Lief Woodson and Holli Brances. But as I said, Lief is dead. Do you know where Holli is?"

"Guarding the camp," the old elf grumbled.

"No, she is not. She guards a powerful wizard in the human city of Connel."

"Not guarding the camp?" Petiole asked, apparently very confused by the assertion.

"She was banished, and she is guarding humans now. Does that upset you?"

Petiole wasn't sure what it meant. He looked to Macheve and then across the table at the other serps. He couldn't fully grasp his situation. He stood before serps, not dwarves or elves, but they brought him welcome news.

Macheve punctuated the truth that was slowly forcing its way into Petiole's disheveled consciousness.

"Mappel is gone. Lief is gone. And Holli is gone. None of them are left."

"All gone?"

"Yes, all gone."

The smile returned to Petiole's face.

"Gone!" he repeated triumphantly.

"Do you know what that means?" Macheve asked.

Petiole wasn't sure, and he looked to the serp with a quizzical expression.

"You are in command of your camp once more," the serp responded definitively, as if there was no question regarding her claim.

"Command?"

The thought seemed to both rejuvenate and frighten Petiole in exactly the same fashion. It was not what the elf had wanted, not what ultimately drew him out of the darkness of Dunop's dungeon. Petiole wanted to forget everything, to enter into a nothingness beyond an empty hole, but Macheve would not allow the elf to withdraw out of fear.

"Do not worry, Elder Petiole. Circumstances have changed. The camp that you led is filled with traitors, as you well know. They turned you over to the dwarves to save themselves, thus
they
are the criminals. Not you. Do you understand?"

Petiole wanted to grasp Macheve's offering, but confusion still swirled his thoughts into a jumbled mess. He shook his head, hoping she would clear his mind.

Macheve willingly obliged. She began to weave a spell of manipulation. She would not forcibly take control of the elf's thoughts, wouldn't try to grab them as if taking fast hold of loose twigs scattered about the ground. Instead, she deftly swept them together with gentle hands, directed them in the path of her choice.

"You dropped shadow tree seeds on Dunop, but there was a legitimate reason. You did it to save the elves. The dwarves attacked first. Everyone in Uton knows that. It was the elves of your camp that denied the truth. They feared the dwarves and decided it was safer to hand you over to the enemy rather than risk their own lives. That is the truth."

"The truth," Petiole agreed.

"It is also true that you are the rightful leader of the camp. You are the elder with the proper lineage. You are their ruler."

Petiole did not wish to confirm that sentiment. He hesitated at the thought of leading the elves that betrayed him. He also retracted from the heavy responsibility of leading the elf camp. The decisions were a burden, and it was not the freedom he sought.

His reluctance did not surprise Macheve. She actually counted on it.

"But they do not deserve your rule," she offered as a conciliatory note. "And they might betray you again. That is why you must rule from a distance."

"Distance?" the old elf questioned.

"Yes. You will not return to your elf camp. You would be in danger. Every elf turned on you, even the elf guard. Do you remember?"

"Yes."

"They would turn on you again. That is why you must stay here."

"Here?"

"Yes, here... where you are safe."

The thought seemed contradictory, even to an old elf filled with bitter and tortured memories.

"But I am the camp elder. I should be with the elves I lead. I am the head of the council."

"Yes, you are, and you will be treated with the respect that the elder deserves. If you remain here, you will not be turned over to dwarves. Do you believe the elves of your camp can make the same claim?"

Even in a twisted state of mind, Petiole knew exactly what would happen if he returned to the elf camp. They would return him immediately to the dwarves and he would be placed back in his cell. He did not wish to return to Dunop... to captivity. He enjoyed the thought of leaving them behind, but he also relished leaving the elves behind as well. He had defeated them by escaping them, and soon he wished to forget them. He voiced his one hope.

"Why can't I just go off into the forest... forget about them all?"

"Because as you said, no one forgets everything. The dwarves will not forget, nor will the elves. They will hunt you down."

It became tragically hopeless for Petiole. His one desire seemed completely out of reach, until Macheve offered him exactly what he wanted.

"That is why you will stay with us. You are the recognized leader of your camp, and we will treat you as such. Your orders for the elves will be relayed to them, but you will never be in danger. You will not have to suffer their disobedience or even their reluctance to follow your rule. Your decisions will be respected. If you wish, you can forget them, but they will not be able to forget you... or harm you."

Petiole began to see what Macheve offered. He could make decisions, or not. Whatever he chose, he would not have to face the doubtful looks of those that were supposed to be loyal to him. He would lead, but there would be no burden of leadership.

"Yes," Petiole agreed. "I will lead from here."

"Very good, but for now, you must rest. Rivira will escort you back to your room. If you need anything, please let her know. In time, we will begin giving you reports on your camp. You will know exactly what they are doing. If you wish to issue an order, we will ensure it is communicated to them immediately."

Petiole nodded and happily followed the sorceress out of the dining hall.

Macheve addressed the serps in the room.

"He will do whatever we ask of him," she stated confidently.

"You handled that very well," Desiv praised. "Having Petiole under our control will allow us to respond to many uncertainties in
Dark Spruce Forest."

The serp paused for a moment as he reflected upon his own statement.
Dark Spruce Forest was both an integral part of the serps' plans as well as a potential source of problematic obstacles. Petiole's connection to the region could prove to be of critical importance, but Desiv wondered if it was enough.

In that same moment, he considered other complications that had already arisen. He wondered if they might all be dealt with in a similar fashion. The solution would require a bit of creative manipulation, but they had already achieved a surprising array of inspired results.

With stunning insight, a daring idea exploded in his mind. Its foundation was almost offensive to him, and yet, Desiv could not dismiss the undeniable benefits. His intricate mind traveled dozens of scenarios, and though the proposal would hold certain risks, he simply could not ignore the advantages. Disregarding a natural revulsion, he decided to voice his consideration to the council without hesitation.

"Speaking of Dark Spruce... it has given me a very interesting idea," Desiv announced, but the notion was so outrageous, he knew the other serps would sense his thoughts immediately. "Since we are all connected, you know what I'm thinking. I will not try to deny its implausibility, but I actually believe it's worth considering." 

"Out of the question!" one serp immediately responded.

"Not even worth discussing," another agreed.

"Oh, but it is and I can sense the curiosity among you all. Yes, it is a repulsive thought, but it is not without certain advantages."

"It would be an outrage."

"I do not disagree, but perhaps an outrage that we could accept, especially if it immediately erases certain problems."

Macheve could sense Desiv's plan, just as the others could, but she pressed for a more thorough explanation, one she could not simply obtain from her magical connection to Desiv. She revealed the ominous consideration with one direct question.

"How would offering Okyiq membership on this council benefit any of us?"

"We are now five instead of six," Desiv declared, pointing to the obvious problem they all faced and none could disavow. "Even now we are all trying to maneuver into a position to take advantage of that situation."
"Understood, but that can be solved by recruiting another serp, not some hostile and oversized goblin."

"But that oversized goblin is a potential problem. He is free to roam Dark Spruce and that in itself is a hazard to our plans."

Macheve believed there were much simpler methods to deal with such an issue.

"So, we take control of several hook hawks and have them devour him. Problem solved."

"And if he avoids the hook hawks, do we send in shags? If shags fail, do we utilize river rogues? How much time do we waste on this creature? Would it not be better to have him join us?"

"Would it?" Macheve questioned. "He has killed one of our own and promised to kill each and every one of us if we try to manipulate him."

"And that's why we have him join us, treat him as an equal. As offensive as that might sound, he has already proven some degree of his worth. His will was stronger than Samk's. He might actually be considered an upgrade to our membership."