Delver Magic Book VII: Altered Messages (19 page)

BOOK: Delver Magic Book VII: Altered Messages
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Okyiq considered the thought of commanding not only goblins, but shags and bloat spiders as well. He himself was not afraid of the creatures, but he knew the dread they could create in others, especially humans. While he was certain he could force any number of goblins to follow his command, he knew he would never be able to coerce a shag or a bloat spider to do anything more than eat his very soldiers.

Desiv could sense the goblins growing interest. Hoping to entice him further, he added to the offer, but he was careful to ensure he did not try to coerce the beast with even a hint of mind manipulation.

"And it wouldn't end there. What about rock beetles? They feel vibrations underground. They can sense things through rock and soil. And we could offer hook hawks as well. They can fly high and see far in the distance. With connections to their senses, you would know what they know. You would uncover dangers as well as opportunities much faster than if you only led goblins."

Okyiq simply could not deny the advantages of the offer, but he doubted the sincerity of the serp and the council. He knew serps could not be trusted. Further, he understood that the offer itself flew in the face of simple reason.

"Why would you want me to lead army? Serps usually give orders. Goblins are expected to follow them."

"You are no ordinary goblin, and we are strategists. We need a field general, someone to take control and lead with authority."

"But why make me member of serp council? I'm goblin, not serp."

"You defeated one of our own. You earned the right. Does that really sound so strange to you?"

It did not sound strange at all. Okyiq actually understood it all too well. It was the spoils of conquest. That was something the enormous goblin could grasp. He had placed fear in the serps and they needed to deal with him. They no longer believed they could beat him, so they wanted him to join with them. It made perfect sense.

The offer began to appeal to the beast, but Okyiq knew of possible conditions. After all, he was dealing with serps, and nothing came without cost.

"What would I have to do?"

Sensing he achieved his goal, Desiv answered quickly and truthfully.

"You will have to return with me to Portsans, and we must do it quickly. Remember, the wizard might come here any moment."

But the thought of departing Dark Spruce did not appeal to the monster.

"We could go anywhere, just run off. No need for me to leave the forest."

"That is true, but in order to make you a full functioning member of the council, we also need to place a slice of pure magic inside of you. That can only be done in Portsans."

Okyiq's suspicions spiked.

"Magic?"

"Yes. Everyone on the council shares a slice of magic from a wizard. I assure you, it's no trick. It allows us to share our thoughts. You actually experienced it when Samk tried to control you. He was the serp you killed."

"I remember."

Okyiq did indeed recall the link. He remembered how he could sense the other serps of the council when Samk invaded his mind.

"The link is important," Desiv continued. "It allows us to function as a council. We cannot keep secrets from each other. It would benefit you as well. If we ever considered betraying you, you would know it before we could act."

The goblin didn't fear the magic. Magic was necessary for him to exist in Uton. Without it, he would be forced back to the dark realm. He also understood how the magic connected the serps, it kept them united. He knew it was necessary, and it would keep the serps from ever acting against him.

He did not, however, like the idea of leaving the forest. Patience was not one of his stronger virtues and he began to wonder if leading shags, bloat spiders and hook hawks was worth all the trouble.

"Don't want to go to Portsans," the goblin declared. "Dark Spruce is mine and I have business here."

"We know you do, and that's exactly what we think you should do... complete that business. We want you to attack the humans at Burbon. We want you to rule over
Dark Spruce Forest. You will understand all of that when you become linked with us, and that is also why it is necessary. If it is of any comfort, you would only have to come to Portsans for a short time. We can probably return you to Dark Spruce before the day is over, but you have to decide now. Time is running out for us."

Realizing he had to make a decision, the large goblin reached for the chance at greater power. Though he didn't wish to leave Dark Spruce, he realized it was necessary in order to gain everything the serp offered. It was a small price to pay, and he believed he would return to the forest soon enough.

Okyiq nodded in acceptance.

 

 

Chapter
11

 

Standing well to the east of Dark Spruce Forest but out of sight of Connel, Rivira contemplated a spell of considerable strength. It would be a challenge to both her skill in casting and her ability to tap into magical reserves. While she was instructed by the serp council not to cause any significant damage, a message had to be delivered, weaknesses needed to be exposed. Otherwise, they would fail to achieve victory, they would succumb to a greater power, and everything that had been previously accomplished would prove meaningless.

She was but a single dagger in a battle of many weapons, but her contribution was an integral part of a larger intention. An assassin might strike alone from the shadows and may lack the pure force to overcome an opposing army, but a swift knife into the back of an ingenious general could turn the fortunes of any war.

While Rivira was not sent out to the farmlands between Connel and Dark Spruce to assassinate some resourceful military leader, she was responsible for creating an ominous threat. She fully intended to comply with the request and prepared to unleash an undeniable declaration that would reveal the city's vulnerability to potential catastrophe.

The
Fuge River would be perfect for her needs. It was the principal river in the region with an untold number of tributaries. Fed by snowmelt from the Colad Mountains and various lakes in the upper northeast regions, it flowed generally south by southwest, but it took many twists and turns. Its headwaters in the northern section flowed down through three major branches which carved passages across various and vast regions of Uton. If viewed from the clouds, the river appeared like a large maple tree. Three large branches comprised the upper limbs until they came together to form the thick trunk which eventually fed into the western sea.

With one of the branches cutting near the eastern edge of Dark Spruce and another flowing across the northern highlands, there would be far more water than she would need to achieve her goal. The most difficult portion of her mission would be retaining control of the waters. She was not to destroy Connel, just to show that she could devastate the city if the need ever arose.

Rivira concentrated on the dark blue energy held within her magical core. Her connection to the water was as deep as Neltus' connection to the land. She let the energy inside her swirl like a great whirlpool. The magic became a tempest of fury as it called to every drop of moisture within the region.

She could feel the river in the distance. It responded willingly to the call of azure energy. The swells of the current moved swiftly and an echo of its strength radiated across her spirit like a cool wind brushing against her face on a hot day.

Taking hold of the sensation, she embraced the very essence of the racing current. For that one instant, Rivira immersed herself into the unwavering and unending existence of the Fuge. She found serenity as well as magnificence in its uncomplicated state of being.

The
Fuge River constituted a force of its own. It never stopped flowing, and it fed the land with life. Within its banks, the water moved relentlessly, never tiring, never resting. It appeared so simple to the eye, just a long and winding stretch of water, but it was a symbol of persistence.

Melding her magic with the essence of the water was only the first part of Rivira's spell. She wished to create a flood. To do so within the confines of her assigned task, she needed to redirect the river's innate resolve and staggering power, but she could not afford to let it run wild across the land. The essence of the spell would require near absolute control and delicate precision. Simply unleashing the fury of the river would fail in both regards.

The magical energy flowed out of her core and a circle of azure magic rolled around her waist. Her connection to the river remained and she called to it with her intentions. She wouldn't try to overwhelm it, force it to bend to her will. She had too much respect for the Fuge. Instead, she hoped to coax it to exhibit its inherent strength. Rivira let the magic become the persuasive tool. One force would coexist with the other and they would join in a temporary display of power.

At three separate points along different sections of the river, the magic formed invisible channels and encouraged the water of the Fuge to leave its banks. The water broke over its natural borders in all three places and willingly rushed along the paths the magic had created.

Rivira smiled and offered her thanks to the river. She knew the water would remain within the channels she created, and it would flow without damaging the surrounding farms. Three separate and narrow spears of flood waters would flow right to Connel's doorstep. The sorceress knew she could control the water to that point, but stopping it would not be so easy

#

Jure felt the surge in the magic first. It was powerful without doubt, but it was the intensity of control that caught his attention. Even as he assisted a dwarf construction project in the human city of Connel, the severe reach of magical influence rang through his consciousness.

Magic flowed constantly across the land, and the remnants of spells both past and present echoed within the energy. Jure was very sensitive to the magic. If he concentrated, he could pull those remnants directly from the magical flow

Just when he cast a controlled spell of demolition to clear a dilapidated warehouse on the southeastern edge of the city, he sensed the ominous casting. Then, he felt the water. It wasn't like a splash in the distance or even something as simple as humidity in the wind. It was a tremor in the base element that disturbed every facet of moisture in the region, like a ripple that rolls across an entire lake. The magic was calling to the water, and Jure could not ignore the enormity of the request.

Just as with Rivira, blue was Jure's inherent hue for magical castings. Though he had expanded his skills across the spectrum and achieved the ability to cast in pure white, water remained his most basic element of control. He could not see what was surging toward the city with his eyes, but the magic within his essence painted a clear picture of the approaching disaster within his mind.

Realizing the severity of the situation, he called out to the dwarf engineer in charge of the construction project.

"I have to go!"

He knew he shouldn't leave without issuing at least one warning. He didn't want to create a panic, but he knew alarm would come of its own volition. He believed the dwarves would act rationally, but he couldn't simply abandon them, as some stood in perilous situations along scaffolding and tight ledges.

"Get everyone to high and secure ground. There's a flood coming."

The wizard didn't have time to explain further. He had to face the threat directly. With Enin out of the city, there was no one else with the power to save Connel. Jure cast a spell of instant teleportation and propelled himself to the northwestern corner of the city.

At the moment of Jure's arrival, there were no visual signs of the flood waters, but a few soldiers noted a strange rumbling. They looked out toward the surrounding farmlands, but saw nothing that explained the disturbance. Jure's sudden appearance surprised them and several realized that the rumbling was not something they could dismiss as distant thunder.

Jure raced up a ladder to an elevated guard platform. He quickly cast a sight spell by sending a magical arrow high into the air and then obtaining the perspective of the horizon gained from his connection to the flying shaft. He projected the image onto the wood boards of the platform so he could analyze it quickly.

The flood approached from three different directions; the north, the northwest, and due west. The water, however, was not one contiguous wave. Instead, it moved in three separate and totally isolated branches. Each one stormed down the center of a road heading directly toward Connel, like streams within a channel, but there were no natural borders to physically contain the water. The sides of the road were not high enough to form even the barest of levies. The cascading water should have spilled out into the surrounding lands, should have swamped farm fields across the northwest of Connel. It didn't.

A soldier on watch duty could view the images Jure projected on the platform. He recognized the area.

"Godson! Is that happening now?"

"It is," Jure responded. "We should see it in mere moments."

"How can that be possible?" the soldier questioned.

"It's a spell. A very strong spell."

The rumble grew stronger and the guards at elevated positions could see the heads of the three incoming flows. The sheer magnitude of water was enough to stun them into gaping shock, but the nature in which the floods raged toward them left each soldier questioning his or her own sanity, wondering if they were witnessing some massive illusion. As they watched the reaction of people in the roads, they knew it was all very real.

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