Delver Magic II: Throne of Vengeance by Jeff Inlo (books for 5 year olds to read themselves .TXT) 📖

compassion, but with no less conviction for his own decision. “I understand that being a delver you are naturally inquisitive about everything. This, however, may be something which should remain a mystery.”

Ryson’s eyes shot open wide. “You can’t be serious?!”

“I am very serious.”

Ryson could not have this. He needed to know. He immediately searched for other alternatives. He blurted one out in hopes of forcing an answer from the cliff behemoth before him. “I could ask the other cliff behemoths.”

“I will ask you not to do that.”

“Why?”

“I do not wish you to ask them. It is a delicate matter. I’m asking as a friend that you honor this request.”

The response caged the delver. He groped for a way out. “That doesn’t make any sense.”

“Do you decline this request of mine?”

Ryson shook his head with uncertainty. The mere thought of denying Dzeb filled him with guilt, but he direly wanted to know why the cliff behemoth had changed his mind. “If you don’t want me to ask them, I won’t. I owe you that, at the very least. But I don’t understand. Why shouldn’t I know this?” The last was nearly a plea for mercy, as if Dzeb was sentencing the delver to an unfit punishment.

Dzeb paused. He almost frowned as he considered a way to enlighten the delver. Finally, and after much apparent consternation, he spoke with renewed conviction. “What would you think if I told you Godson had sent a message to us, instructing us to help you?”

Ryson took but a moment to consider the question. He answered quickly, hoping to get to the truth and not play with assumptions. “I don’t know. I guess I would think the war was getting out of hand and that it was time to be stopped. Is that …”

Dzeb pressed forward. He wanted the delver to truly contemplate such a significant occurrence. “Think carefully. Do not end with that simple answer. Consider completely what it might mean if I told you Godson Himself sent a message. Whether you believe in the word or not, you must consider this carefully. What would that mean to you? What would be the potential if others thought that way? Every time there would be a conflict in the future, you would think to rely on some sign from the heavens to tell you when you have gone too far. That is not the way it should be. All the races of this land must learn to rely on their own judgment, their own decisions.”

Dzeb held up a finger to halt the delver from asking another question. He wanted the delver to consider the full measure of his point. “Before you speak, let me pose the other possibility. What would you think if I said Godson did not send a message; if the cliff behemoths intervened at their own discretion?”

Ryson again answered quickly, hoping to pry the ultimate truth from the cliff behemoth. “I would be happy to hear it. I wanted you to stop this war, remember?”

“But again, how would you feel about the future? Would you begin to worry about how else we might involve ourselves in your affairs?”

The question centered upon Ryson’s own previous considerations. The possibility of cliff behemoths intervening at their own discretion might indeed have dire consequences. Yes, today it stopped a war, it stopped a tragedy. But who was to say how the cliff behemoths might intrude in other ways? They had the power to rule with absolute authority, to become dictators. Would that truly be a welcome thought? That consideration had indeed invaded the delver’s thoughts before. He spoke of such thoughts with the reader Matthew. Would this truly be a blessing, or a curse?

“I don’t know what to say to that,” Ryson answered honestly. “I know I’m grateful you helped today. We needed your help.”

“Then let it end with that,” Dzeb counseled.

Ryson shifted his weight. That conclusion did not sit well with him. It left a hole in his being. Without an answer, he was incomplete.

“Perhaps it is time we moved forward,” Lief finally intervened. “We gain nothing by standing here debating philosophical questions.”

At first, the delver did not move. He searched for one last question, one last thought which might shed a new light upon the matter. He found nothing.

“Ryson?” Lief nudged.

“Sorry,” Ryson responded. He did his best to wipe the burden from his thoughts. He attempted to focus on other pressing needs. He thought of Burbon, of Linda and Sy. He wished to see them. He thought of Dunop and Yave. He wondered how the dwarves fared against the sand giants and how the queen would deal with the appearance of Dzeb and the other cliff behemoths.

With new questions replacing the old, he moved quickly into the empty corridor. “I saw before that no one was down here. Are there any threats we should know about?”

“I sent the dwarf guards away,” Dzeb replied with simplicity. “I did not think it was wise to leave a potential conflict when they saw their prisoners freed.”

“Did the guards leave when you asked them to, or did they resist?” the elf asked with his own curiosity as to dwarf stubbornness in the face of a cliff behemoth.

“They took leave.” Dzeb did not give a description as to the guards’ manner in retreat.

The delver took the lead. His memory of the corridors remained as strong as if he had just walked them. He nimbly took to the stairs and led the group out of the palace depths.

A few palace guards took to posts near the throne room, but made no attempt to stop them. The simple sight of the cliff behemoth left them in uncertain awe. They realized it was these titans that had saved Dunop. Even the sight of the elf and the delver roaming free could not sway the dwarves into attacking the behemoth.

Ryson pushed into the throne room with authority of his own. He ignored the guards at the door, not even giving them a glance. He stepped back into the room like a returning hero, and to his liking, he spotted Yave upon the throne.

The queen sat rigid. Cold emotion bit at her cheeks. Her eyes swooped over them all; Ryson, Lief, Dzeb, and the near lifeless hulk of Jon’s body. If she cared even slightly for Jon’s welfare, it did not show. She viewed them all as enemies, even the cliff behemoth. In her eyes, Dzeb did not save Dunop, no, he thwarted her moment of vindication, ripped the honor of destroying the sand giants from her very grasp. Her anger remained, her thirst for retribution unfulfilled.

Ryson grunted. Nothing would get through to this woman. Nothing would break the grip of her hate. He felt pity for her, nothing more.

He would waste little more time or emotion on this depraved queen. He no longer cared to try and influence her convictions or change her decision. That was simply no longer necessary. The war was officially over. The cliff behemoths would take care of ending the hostilities, of that he was certain.

He turned his attention to a more personal matter. He looked to a cloak on the floor and moved to it with the grace of a floating feather. With fluidity, he pulled the cover off the sword. Light filled the chamber and all welcomed it, all save Yave, who actually turned her gaze away from the delver. The light did not bring physical pain to her eyes, but it sparked memories that burned her core.

Ryson noticed the queen’s reaction, but he would not sheath the talisman. He held it aloft with pride.

With the hilt firmly in his grasp, a warmth spread through his body. The sword’s power reached into his consciousness. It seized upon the very questions which previously haunted him. It gave him nearly every answer he required. He saw the damage to Burbon as well as the casualties to the dwarf army. He saw how Yave waited for the sand giants that never came. He saw the cliff behemoths before they left their mountains. He saw how they left, when they left, but he could not see why they left. Their own personal intentions were blocked from him, and perhaps this was best. With this vision, he gained even greater perspective. Lief was right. The sword revealed knowledge, but it would not, could not, reveal the intentions behind such knowledge.

Ryson beheld the enchanted weapon with greater respect and appreciation for this power. He considered its affect on the queen and how he felt it failed to save the land. He knew now that it had never failed in its true magical purpose, for it was never meant for such use. It was not an item of such enchantment that it could sway the beliefs of another, or that it could alter preference, or even prejudice. It decreed fact, nothing more and nothing less. Further interpretation was left to the possessor. Perhaps, that is the way it was meant to be. Free will, both to choose and to think. Of course, free will would only go so far with the cliff behemoths on the matter of this particular war, and Dzeb spoke with such authority.

“These attacks of yours will end,” Dzeb commanded.

Yave almost erupted with fury. She would not take orders from anyone, not even a cliff behemoth. One glance, however, at the other dwarves that had gathered in the chamber brought her hesitation. In an instant, she realized that the cliff behemoth had seized her power, the power of command over her own kind. They would listen to him, not her. Her options dwindled like melting ice upon the sun.

Dzeb continued with disregard to Yave’s stern demeanor. “You had no right to attack the algors. They caused you no pain. You had no right to attack the humans of Connel or Burbon, or the elves of Dark Spruce. Your anger breeds hate, and your hate opposes the will of Godson. This will come to an end.”

Yave managed to ask one simple question. “And if I refuse?”

“That is your right. You may choose to oppose Godson and continue the path you have forged, but that truth will be known. There will be no further question as to why you struggle. There will be no question as to which side you draw your alliances. What dwarf will follow you on such a path? What city would remain your captive? The magic has returned to Uton and with it many dark creatures. They would oppose the will of Godson to the end of their days. You would be one with them. Is that your choice?”

Yave folded her hands and bowed her head. She hid the twisted contortions of her face, but the uncontrollable shaking of her body was clear for all to witness. In a fit of pure fury, she bolted from her chair and out of the throne room.

Dzeb did not watch her leave. He placed Jon upon the vacated throne. Even as the dwarf body slumped sideways over the chair arm, he turned and gestured to the other dwarves.

“Follow her as you will, but know that her claims are false. The algors did not take her first son from her. The humans, the elves, the delvers; they are not your enemies. The enemy to us all is the darkness she chases. That is her path, let us pray that it will not be yours.”

Dzeb turned and left. He made no motion of farewell to anyone, not to Lief, and not to Ryson.

Ryson watched the back of the cliff behemoth until it turned out of sight. “No need for goodbyes, I guess. But I have to tell you, it’s hard to watch him leave.”

Uncertainty replaced the emptiness caused