Delver Magic Book VII: Altered Messages (29 page)

"What does one have to do with the other?" Therese asked, somewhat harshly, but also curious as to her advisor's viewpoint.

"Remember, Enin and his followers did not return Petiole. They followed him to Portsans, but then nothing."

"Enin claimed the elf was beyond his grasp. I took him at his word."

"He is powerful beyond measure. What could possibly be beyond his grasp?"

Therese could not ignore the question. It had burdened her as well, but she was not ready to believe the wizard of Connel was somehow involved in deception.

"You believe Enin is somehow connected to Petiole's escape?"

"No, I do not," Geg answered, "but I do believe that there is a great deal to consider. Elves are currently watching our cave entrances to Dark Spruce. We have no information on Petiole's whereabouts. Light gems were stolen from our airshafts, and now a massive army of dark creatures is on the march. To get involved based on so little information might be a critical mistake."

Therese could not argue. She did not understand why Enin could not return Petiole, but she believed in the wizard. She did not, however, trust the elves to the same degree. She could also not deny Burbon's history. The humans of that town worked with the elves, not the dwarves. She was not ready to simply abandon the human town, but she became much more hesitant in offering aid.

"Let me think on this."

#

"I'm surprised," Ryson admitted to his wife. "I would have thought you would have argued more, told me to come with you, or that you'd want to stay behind."

"I don't want to argue," Linda responded. "I never want to argue. If you're staying, I know there's a reason."

"There is, but I'm still surprised."

"Don't be," Linda advised. "If Sy's ordering the whole town to evacuate, it's pretty clear it's dangerous."

"It is, that's why I thought you'd be worried about me staying here."

Linda laughed slightly. It wasn't happy laughter, but rather a nervous laughter that's impossible to hold back when something ridiculous is said at difficult moments.

"Of course, I'm worried about you. I'll always be worried about you, but you told me there's a plan for you and the guard to escape. I believe it."

Despite Linda's exceptionally calm demeanor and her insistence that she understood the situation, the delver remained shocked at his wife's reaction. She accepted the need to pack a few valuables and take Stomps to Connel without debate. He expected much more of a struggle, and he explained his surprise.

"But you seem a lot calmer than you have been in the past."

"I am."

"What's changed?"

"Stomps."

"Stomps?"

"Absolutely." Linda called the dog over, gave him a big pat on the head and smiled. "It's funny. When you first said it was a good idea to get Stomps, I started to get worried about how it might affect you. I thought it might have even been a mistake. If all this happened on the first day we had him, I don't think I would have been able to stand it."

"I don't understand," the delver confessed.

"I would have been worried you'd start taking more risks," Linda explained, "that you wouldn't be as careful."

"Why?"

"Because you wouldn't be worried about leaving me alone. If something happened to you, I'd have Stomps. There was a substitute for you."

Ryson found the thought as f
oreign as snow in the Lacobian Desert.

"I'd don't think I ever thought that. I was just happy you wouldn't be alone when I had to leave. I didn't think Stomps was taking my place."

"I know, but it's more than that now. It's different, but in a much better way. I'm not worried about you taking more risks. In fact, I'm certain you'll be more careful than ever. Do you know why? Because I've seen you with Stomps. You care about him almost as much as you do me. Don't worry. I think that's a great thing because it's going to keep you safe. If something happens to you now, you wouldn't just be leaving me, you'd be leaving him as well. I don't think you could do that, not by choice."

He was completely amazed by his wife's observation, but in the back of his mind, Ryson understood exactly what she was saying. He was certainly more careful when Stomps was with him, but he realized he was also more vigilant when out scouting alone.

Initially, he attributed it to falling into a routine, but there was clearly more to it than that. Without making a conscious decision to do so, he had indeed taken greater care in everything he did. It was as if a larger weight of responsibility forced him to avoid unnecessary danger.

"I don't want to leave either one of you," was all Ryson could say.

"I know," Linda responded. "I'm not saying you weren't worried about me, but there are two of us now. That's what I'm talking about."

Ryson considered what was about to happen, why Linda and Stomps were leaving and why he was staying behind. He felt a pang of guilt, but Linda sensed it immediately.

"Don't think about it," she insisted. "That's what might get you into trouble. Think of all the things you can do. You're a delver. I know the soldiers are going to stay behind. I'm more worried about them. Not because I don't care about you, but because even if things fall apart, you can still survive. Don't forget that. No army can hurt you if they can't touch you. They could only hurt you if you let them, and you're not going to let that happen, because of me... and Stomps."

Ryson looked down at the dog that was blissfully watching him and Linda. As he did, Stomps wagged his tail. Linda was right. There was another anchor for his heart, another reason to bring him home.

"Are you ready to issue your first order?" Macheve asked, as she interrupted the elf who had been quietly stalking about his room since his arrival in Portsans.

When he heard Macheve's voice, Petiole looked over his shoulder toward the door, but he continued his routine. He had been pacing around in a small circle. He said nothing, but he did stop every time he came to the window. He peered outside as if he heard something call to him just beyond the rocks on the shore. A light smile graced his lips as he looked to the sea. He then continued his circular march only to return to the same spot by the window and gaze out once more.

"Order?" the elf finally asked, realizing the serp would not leave him alone. He did not cease his pacing, even as he felt a tinge of apprehension rise up in his stomach. He would have rather not been bothered, but it seemed fate would never leave him completely alone.

"Yes," Macheve answered with a soothing tone. She did not wish to agitate the elf, but it was time to utilize him in their plans. "We told you that your orders would be relayed to your camp, but you have to give them first."

Petiole finally stopped, turned completely toward the serp and tilted his head like a confused child.

"I have an order?" he questioned, totally bewildered at the prospect.

"Yes, you do."

"What is it?"

"You will tell me."

"I will?"

"Of course, it is
your
order."

"What is it about?"

"It's about the humans in Pinesway. Do you remember Pinesway?"

Petiole struggled with his memories. He had little contact with the humans, never entered any of their towns. He knew of Connel. It was part of elflore. It was also the place where the races reconvened after the return of the magic. He remembered Burbon. Holli Brances went to Burbon to help the humans fight off the dwarves. But Pinesway... his mind fought through a haze over that name. It seemed familiar, but it held little significance. He believed he might have looked upon it once, but only from a distance, and well before he had become the camp elder.

"Where is Pinesway?"

"It's near the eastern border of
Dark Spruce Forest. It's the neighboring town of Burbon and sits to the west of Connel."

"It's empty," Petiole blurted out without really knowing why.

"Not any more. Most of the humans abandoned it once, but it has been rebuilt... with the help of the dwarves."

Petiole found the mention of the underground dwellers disheartening and he looked down to the floor. He started to pace the room again and muttered under his breath.

"What was that?" Macheve asked.

"I do not wish to think about Pinesway," Petiole repeated slightly louder.

"Very well, but if you don't want the humans to get away with stealing from the forest, you'll have to issue your order. Otherwise, they'll take what is not theirs, and the dwarves will benefit from what they steal."

Petiole stopped by the window. He stared out toward the sea, but he didn't smile. He remained at the window before finally questioning the serp.

"Stealing?"

"The humans have an arrangement with the dwarves. The humans take wood from the forest and offer it as payment for dwarf construction. Pinesway has become a trade station for the dwarves. They are bypassing the elves of Dark Spruce. The humans are fulfilling their needs for timber with wood obtained from the forest. Does that seem fair to you?"

To Petiole, nothing about the dwarves seemed fair.

"No, it does not."

"These humans ignore the fact that the dwarves once attacked them and the elves came to their aid. Rather than show the elves gratitude, they work for the benefit of themselves... and the dwarves. They offer no loyalty."

"No, they do not," Petiole agreed again.

"Then don't you believe you should intervene?"

"Yes... I... I..."

Petiole wanted to act, wanted to assert his authority, but even when in his right mind, he was indecisive. In his current state, making decisions was like grasping fog. He could see it in the distance, but once he got close, it faded into obscurity, and he could never take hold of it. He lowered his head in frustration, took his gaze from the sea and looked to his aged hands. He wrung them together in clear agitation. He couldn't find the words to describe his desires.

Macheve came to his rescue.

"Inform the humans of Pinesway that their trade with the dwarves must end and that no further logging will be permitted in elf territory, which includes all of Dark Spruce."

"Yes, an end to all of it," Petiole mumbled, pleased with the idea that seemed to punish both the disloyal humans and the criminal dwarves.

"Let me write it all down for you," Macheve stated, but the words were already on paper. She held the parchment out to the elf. "Here you are. This is your order as you proclaimed. Please make sure you can read it."

Petiole stepped away from the window and took hold of the written order. He mouthed the words as he scanned the decree. He nodded his head vigorously in blissful agreement as he finished.

"My order!" he exclaimed proudly upon completion.

"Can you read it out loud?"

"Out loud?"

"Yes, we must make sure the humans can understand you. You will deliver the proclamation personally to Pinesway. We will ensure that your words are carried across the town to all those present—that is one of our gifts—but you must read through it at the center of town."

The prospect stunned the old elf. He almost collapsed at the thought.

"I thought you said I was going to stay here?"

"And you are staying here, but I never said you wouldn't be able to appear before others."

"But I do not want to face the other elves. They will question my... my decisions."

"And you won't have to face the elves. You will be facing humans, and potentially some dwarves."

"NO! The dwarves will imprison me again!"

"Relax," Macheve commanded, but with an even more soothing voice. "They won't be able to touch you. You will be guarded. Much better, in fact, than when you were supposed to be protected by elf guards."

Macheve quickly guided four tall dieruhnes into the room. They stood erect carrying white iron tridents graced with lightning enchantments. Their blood red faces revealed no emotion, but their pale eyes bore into Petiole with cold hatred.

Petiole stumbled backwards until his back hit the wall. He looked upon the dieruhnes with absolute terror.

"Dieruhnes are enemies of all elves!" Petiole whimpered.

"That is what makes them the perfect guards for you. Do you think any elf would dare lay a hand on you when you are surrounded by four dieruhne warriors? Elf archers would not even be able to strike you from a distance. A single dieruhne spear has been known to cut through a cascade of a thousand arrows. How can an elf ever reach you?"

"But what of the dwarves? You said there would be dwarves at Pinesway?"

"Of course, they must be informed of the decree, but don't worry. Even a brigade of dwarves would not be able to touch you. Dieruhnes hate dwarves almost as much as elves. They will ensure your protection."

"They will not hurt me?"

One dieruhne spoke in a gravelly voice that was almost unintelligible, but its words were simple.