Read Delver Magic: Book 06 - Pure Choice Online
Authors: Jeff Inlo
"Not my concern?" the
delver responded with growing astonishment. "I'm afraid it is! I worked
with the elves long before you did."
"Your relationship with the
elves is not relevant to my duty."
Ryson considered what Sy had said,
but he also realized he was still a delver. Just because Sy made some
irrational decision, that wasn't going to alter his identity or diminish the
natural curiosity that burned within him.
"I need to find out what
happened to them," the delver declared. "By tomorrow morning, I'll be
out in Dark Spruce searching for answers. Are you going to want to know what I
find?"
Sy felt as if he was being
maneuvered. He decided against playing along. He meant what he said about
breaking his reliance.
"What
you
do from this point on is
your
business," Sy responded coldly, "as long as it doesn't interfere with
the safety of this town. As for the elves, I'm going to send a messenger to
Connel. I will inform Enin of what happened here tonight, and I'm going to
request the assistance of Holli Brances. That's how I'm going to handle this.
As far as I'm concerned, this matter is concluded."
The statement was as abrupt as it
was final, and Ryson decided that suited him as well. He turned about and left
the command post.
As Sy watched the delver leave, he
wondered if he just made one of the biggest mistakes of his life. He looked to
Sergeant Klusac and made a very honest admission.
"Well, I didn't handle that
very well."
"No, you didn't," the
sergeant conceded, but then added to that concession. "Then again, neither
did he. He's got no right to question your judgment, and anyway you slice it,
that's what he was doing here tonight."
Sy reflected on that thought, and
for one moment, tried to examine the events that transpired from a different
viewpoint.
"He doesn't want to kill. I
knew that when I asked for his help. Why was I surprised?"
"That, I can't answer, but
were you really surprised?"
"No, but I was angry. I can't
lie about that."
"Angry doesn't mean you're
wrong," Klusac offered. "It doesn't mean either of you are wrong.
You're just in different positions. He sees things his way, you see things
yours. As long as you're looking out for the best interests of this
town..."
"I believe I am," Sy
interrupted. "I honestly do. What do you think?"
"I wouldn't serve with you if
I didn't."
"Thanks, but what did we lose
tonight?"
"Maybe something we never
really had," Klusac suggested. "I can't dismiss Ryson's abilities,
but they're his, not ours, and he's always done with them as he saw fit. Maybe
you did make the right decision tonight, maybe we have become too reliant on
the delver."
Ryson wanted to immediately rush
out of Burbon's western gate and into Dark
Spruce Forest.
Despite the rain, the goblins, and the two river rogues lingering about the
perimeter, the mystery regarding the elves pulled at him like the clutching
grasp of a hungry shag. Many things could spark his delver curiosity, but an
issue of that magnitude could overwhelm his attention and divert him from any
other concern.
What happened to the elves?
That was the question that
repeated itself over and over in Ryson's mind. The elves were gone; that was
the simple admission of an enormous goblin, but it became a near obsession for
the delver. Okyiq described the event as if the elves had just vanished like an
early morning fog, but Ryson could not imagine how an entire camp could simply
disappear. He knew there had to be something more to the story.
For any delver, it was the perfect
puzzle. It was not a fool's errand or a delver hunt with a thousand possible
scenarios. Ryson could not deny the assertion that something had happened to
the elf camp, but he would not accept the premise that they had simply faded
out of existence.
There were answers in the forest
that would shed greater light on the mystery, of that he was sure. He only had
to find them, and such a quest always drove a delver's spirit. He had his
senses, and there were trails to follow. The elves might have been gone, but
that was neither an assumption nor an explanation. The thought of the pursuit
filled him with anticipation as it would stimulate every trait within him that
was pure delver.
As he considered the few details,
he understood the simplest explanation would create its own course to navigate.
He knew the elf camp moved about with regularity and always managed to conceal
its presence from curious humans and delvers alike. Perhaps the elves simply
migrated to a different part of the forest, or perhaps they fled an immediate
threat. No matter where the facts hid, he would find them, and they would lead
him to the elves.
The desire to race into the forest
and discover every clue was strong enough to wash away the gnawing concern over
his confrontation with Sy. He was not happy about the discussion they had, or
the results. He faced both anger and sadness over the harsh words they traded,
and the apparent break in their friendship left him hollow. He did not hold any
great animosity toward the captain of the guard. Ryson understood Sy's
position, but the delver wished Sy would appreciate his own point of view.
He never meant to undermine the
captain's authority, but he could not dismiss his own principles. It was a
complex dilemma, one that required greater consideration than a single argument
after a difficult night of limited combat, but such was the course of events.
Sy had made what Ryson believed was a hasty decision, and the delver did not
wish to leave Burbon on such a discomforting note, but such an action appeared
as the only option. Sy had ended the discussion, and further argument was as
pointless as a rounded stone from the bottom of a river bed.
He was convinced that everything
could be overcome with time, and the best way to spend that time was to do what
he loved. Exploring the forest was exactly what he needed, and investigating
with purpose made it seem as if fate was offering him a path for resolution.
Despite what Sy had said, the delver knew he could still help the town; he
wanted
to help the town. It was never
his intention to put himself ahead of anyone else or to abandon Burbon.
As he ran across the muddy streets
and through the slowly relenting rains, he looked to the west with growing
anticipation. In his mind, he even mapped out a path to the nearest gate. For a
brief instant, he wondered if the soldiers would open it for him. There were
still two river rogues outside the wall. It wouldn't matter, of course. He
could climb the barrier in a heartbeat if it was necessary. He could be in Dark
Spruce in mere moments. All he had to do was turn to the west.
Another power, however, forced him
to stay, held him to Burbon like a great iron anchor that kept the greatest
sailing ships stable even during the fiercest of storms. Despite the growing
rush of curiosity and the ache within him to reach the center of the mystery,
the connection to his wife kept him within the walls of the town. The forest
could wait until morning, until he talked to her and explained everything that
had happened and everything he planned to do.
He rushed to the Borderline Inn.
He found Linda sitting alone at a table in the corner just staring at an empty
glass. He believed she had been waiting for him. It was certainly late, and the
evening must have been tiring for her.
"Sorry that took so
long," he offered as he moved quickly to her side. "I have a lot to
tell you. Do you want to stay here for a while and talk, or head for
home?"
At first, his wife did not even
acknowledge him. When she finally looked up, she did so with a distant
expression. Her eyes would not fix upon his. Instead, she glanced about the
corners of the inn as if unwilling to focus on one spot.
"So you finally decided to
show up?" she asked.
Her tone was mostly emotionless,
but it seemed to hold the slight edge of annoyance, and the delver became
immediately defensive.
"It wasn't my fault. Sy
wanted to talk. That's one of the things..."
Linda didn't let him finish.
"It's never your fault,"
she responded. "Even when it is."
It was not any angry accusation or
an emotional outburst. She made the statement with cold indifference.
Ryson was more surprised than
upset at the assertion.
"My fault?"
"Yes, your fault." She
didn't shout, didn't even slightly raise her voice. She spoke in more of a low
grumble. "You were gone, called away... again. I didn't know how long you
would be. I'm stuck in here wondering what I should do, and you're out running
around in the rain."
"I'm not sure I understand. I
know it's late, but..."
"I don't want to hear the
excuse. There's always one excuse or another. You left me here... alone... for
too long."
"I didn't leave you alone.
The place was full."
"Is it full now?"
Ryson looked around. Some of the
tables and a few seats at the bar were occupied, but most were empty.
"No, but you're hardly
alone."
"Do you see anyone at this
table with me?"
"No, but I'm here now."
"And that's what I'm talking
about. I had to wait for you... alone."
Ryson's confusion increased.
"I'm still not sure what
you're mad about."
"Who said I was mad?"
"You seem mad," Ryson
replied.
Linda just let out a heavy,
disgusted breath and looked down at the table.
Ryson stood beside her at a loss
for words. They weren't drawing any attention. It wasn't as if they were
shouting at each other. It would appear to anyone that looked in their
direction that they were having a normal conversation. He just didn't
understand it. He wondered if he should continue standing or sit down next to
her. He also wondered if she even wanted to hear what he had to say.
"Alright, I left you alone
for too long," he allowed as he finally sat down. He wasn't simply
humoring her. He was acknowledging that he could have met up with her before he
talked to Sy. He could have even checked on her before he went to deal with the
goblins. He was a delver and his speed allowed for choices others might not
have. Perhaps that was all she wanted, a sign that he was concerned about her,
and maybe he had not shown enough of that concern. Still, there was more to say
and more she needed to know.
"Do you want to hear what
happened?" he wondered aloud.
"I don't know, do I?"
Ryson wasn't sure how to answer
her question. He didn't have great news. Much of what had happened was rather
discouraging. A corporal's carelessness led to an avoidable injury, goblins had
broken through the town's defenses, innocent civilians were killed, elves were
reported as missing, and Sy had basically dismissed him from any official duty;
certainly a long list of unpleasantries, but he had to tell her what happened.
"Well, it's important,"
he finally offered. "While I was searching for the rogues, there was a
goblin raid to the south. They got through the gate."
Linda replied quickly through a
sarcastic chuckle.
"Rogues and goblins? You're
out there running around with rogues and goblins. I'm in here with no idea
what's happening and you're wondering why I'm upset. You could have been
killed, and I would have never known it."
Her reply was totally unexpected.
They often discussed the dangers he faced, but she had accepted it in the past,
at least she said she had. He was a delver. He explored the land, and since the
magic returned, the land was filled with new perils. She had told him she would
never get used to it, but she claimed she understood it would always be part of
their lives.
What made the quarrel all the more
baffling was that the dangers he faced that evening were relatively minor; a
goblin raid and a handful or rogues hardly compared to some of the hazards he
faced in the past. He also never left Burbon that night. It wasn't as if he was
exploring the Colad Mountains
to the north or any of the hills throughout Uton that he loved so much. The
battle he faced that night all fell upon the streets of their home and he
decided to point out as much.
"It's not like you had no
idea what was going on. I never went outside the walls tonight."
"You might as well have gone
all the way to the coast for all that it mattered to me. I was still stuck in
here and I had no idea what was happening to you. What difference does it make
if you stayed inside the walls or not?"
Ryson looked at his wife wondering
if she was suddenly just joking with him, but he knew asking that question
would be a monumental mistake. While she continued to maintain a calm voice and
demeanor, she certainly appeared serious. Whatever was bothering her was no
joke.
"There's a big
difference," Ryson countered. "Everything was happening right here.
The towers were signaling everything. I taught you how to read the signals, you
had to know I took care of the rogues. It was signaled across town."
"I can't spend my time
reading tower signals. I have other things to do."
"Alright, you were busy with
people here. I understand that, but some of the people in the tavern had to
watch for the signals, every one is supposed to remain informed to the alert. A
lot of people know how to read the signs. People like to know what's happening.
I'm sure it was called out."
"Oh, like I listen to every
thing a bunch of drunks shout out."
"Drunks?"
"You think they don't drink
here?"
Ryson felt the question had no
relevance. Of course people drank at a tavern, but that didn't make them
incapable of keeping track of the emergency. He kept trying to draw a clear
line to his wife's concern, but he felt she kept blurring the picture.