Delver Magic: Book 06 - Pure Choice (34 page)

Focusing on the still burning
twister of fire, Scheff decided to cast a tornado of his own, one that would
match the size and strength of the column created by the infern. The elf's
twister, however, would be born not of fire, but by the heart of a storm.

With his first spell, Scheff could
not ignore the influence of the dark energy deep inside of him. He could not
tap into its strength, but it guided his connection to the magic all around
him. It kept him completely focused on his inherent hue, allowed him to dig
deeper into his own magical core to shape the violet power.

A perfect ring of purple magic
rotated about his wrists until he cast it out into the desert horizon just to
the left of Gnafil's fire column. The violet color was much darker than it had
ever been. It quickly expanded and elongated into a narrow but furious band
that stretched from the desolate ground high into the blue heavens.

Gale winds from the upper reaches
of the sky swirled into the magical current of Scheff's violet energy. The
cyclone spawned a growing storm cloud in the previously clear desert atmosphere
just as the base of the long, spinning column stretched down to the high dunes.
The violently circulating winds sent rock and sand in all directions.

Even at a great distance, the
spell casters could feel the harsh grains of sand batter their exposed skin,
but Scheff ignored the distraction. The elf maintained control over his cyclone
and he sent it directly toward the infern's column of fire.

"What are you doing,
elf?" Gnafil shouted with growing alarm.

"Testing the strength of your
fire against my winds," Scheff responded almost gleefully.

The extent of his newfound energy
surprised the elf, stoked his confidence and pressed him to test the limits of
his power. He fed the cyclone with even more of his energy just as the high
winds of his twister crashed into the flaming walls of Gnafil's tornado.

The results surprised the elf. The
gale force currents of the cyclone failed to snuff out the flaming twister as
Scheff expected. Instead, it fed the flames as it merged into the center of the
fiery column.

"I can not control it!"
Gnafil screeched. "Pull back!"

"I have lost touch with
mine," Scheff admitted. "I can not even see it."

The flames engulfed the spinning
winds and the twisting tower of fire doubled in width, then tripled and
continued to grow.

Before Neltus acted, he winked at
Rivira.

"Still think the desert was a
mistake?" he asked with a grin.

Not waiting for Rivira to admit
she was wrong, which Neltus knew she would not, he cast his own spell. A ring
of crimson magic flew from his finger tips and skipped across the ground toward
the column of fire. It was not affected by the ripping winds or the roaring
flames, and it took a position directly underneath the cyclone. The instant it
was in place, it exploded with a dark red flash.

Sand and rock poured into the
center of the twister from every direction. It came in giant waves, each nearly
as tall and as wide as the cyclone itself. At first, much of the dirt and
debris was cast aside, but it kept pouring over the center of the column.

After about a dozen waves, the
flames began to dim and the spinning winds started to sputter. More and more
stone and sand filled the twister, and the cyclone's movements became lethargic
and labored. The violent tornado could not fight off the choking waves of
debris, and eventually the heavy sands completely smothered the combination of
fire and wind.

As the dust slowly settled, the
spell casters revealed various reactions. Scheff appeared visibly shaken,
surprised at how much raw power was at his command, and just as surprised at
how quickly it broke from his control. The infern appeared furious while the
sorceress revealed an expression of annoyance. Neltus, however, seemed greatly
amused by the entire debacle.

"That was almost as much fun
as when Gnafil set the sea surface on fire," Neltus laughed.

Rivira shook her head and stepped
up to the elf.

"Let that be your first
lesson, Scheff. You are indeed strong with the storm, but the pureness of your
magic creates a greater concentration of energy for each spell. You may not be
able to manipulate the dark magic Ansas planted within you, but it will feed
you nonetheless. If you're not careful, even the simplest of spells can break
from your control. A basic rain storm could turn into a hurricane, and not only
rage against your target, but drain you of your energy and leave you
defenseless against your own spell."

"But the fire was Gnafil's
spell," Scheff objected.

"And it was fed by the wind
of your cyclone. If you don't think you would have been responsible for
roasting us all, then you have no idea of the consequences of your own
spells... and that is a very dangerous consideration."

Rivira said nothing more. She and
the infern cast separate teleportation spells and exited the Lacobian
Desert.

"Ahh, don't let her get to
you," Neltus advised. "She's always a bit high strung. I think it was
a great start."

Scheff wasn't sure if that was a
compliment or a jesting insult, and so, he said nothing in response.

Neltus' mirth slowly died away. He
looked at the huge pile of sand and stone created by the mix of spells and
considered the combined power of magic they had displayed. It was a concern
that plagued him when he realized that Ansas wished to purify new spell
casters.

Taking a quick look at Scheff,
Neltus decided to take advantage of their moment alone and pressed for the
elf's opinions on such subtle matters.

"Let me ask you this, elfie,
where do you think this is all headed?"

"Headed?"

"Yeah, headed. You're not
deaf are you? No, 'course you're not, just a bit slow, or I'm sure you'd rather
say 'careful.' Be that as it may, I admit you're a cautious one, and you must
have thought long and hard about the sorcerer's offer. What made you take
it?"

"He offered me an opportunity
to grow stronger on a new path," Scheff admitted. The elf then nodded over
to the same mounds of sand and stone that marked the last position of his
cyclone. "Evidently, he was correct."

"Yeah, you've got more power
than you had before, can't argue that, but that brings me back to my original
question. Where is this all headed?"

"You mean what direction will
I take?"

"I guess that's one way to
put it, but I'm talking more about all of us together, not just what you're
going to do next."

Scheff considered the question in
the context it was given. He thought about himself, Neltus, Rivira and Gnafil
and how they all fit in with the opportunity Ansas described. He gave what he
thought was the obvious answer.

"We are all going to get
stronger."

Neltus shook his head.

"No, elfie, think bigger,
wider. The big picture. What is it?""

"The big picture? I do not
understand."

"You haven't spent much time
out of the forest, have you?"

"Of course not. I am an elf."

"Alright, let me put it to
you this way; we didn't all get a piece of Ansas just because he wants to play
around with magic. At least, I don't think so. I'm trying to figure out what he
ultimately wants to do with us."

The answer to that question seemed
obvious, and it was a question that Scheff had already put before the sorcerer.

"He wants us to expand our
powers, to become something greater. He said so himself."

"Come on, elfie, that doesn't
add up. You're looking at this from our perspective, not his. Ansas isn't going
to just give away a piece of himself so we can get stronger. Let's face it,
he's not the warm and fuzzy compassionate type, hoping to make the land a
better place for us spell casters."

"You believe he has ulterior
motives?"

"Don't you?"

"He is powerful enough that
he would not have to hide his purpose from us."

"Not if he needs us to go
along willingly. Sure, he could threaten us and I'd probably go along. I'm not
too proud to admit the guy scares me to death, but maybe that won't work for
him. Maybe we have to accept all this willingly."

Scheff considered the idea, and he
had to confess it held merit. Still, Ansas seemed forthright about what he
offered.

"He spoke plainly to me. I do
not believe he is of a character that would depend on deceit. If I did not
oblige him, I honestly believe he would have accepted that decision and simply
moved on to find someone else. He did so, more or less, with another elf that
was at my side."

"Really? What happened?"

"She refused his offer, but
he let her return to her camp, just as he said he would."

"Interesting."

"But not surprising,"
Scheff replied. "It made perfect sense. He offered an opportunity and she
declined. He would not be bothered with trying to convince her to change her
mind."

Neltus appeared uncertain of the
elf's conjecture. It seemed reasonable, but then returned to his primary
concern.

"Then that brings us back to
the original question. What does he really want out of all of this? He offered
me more power than I could imagine, and he's made good on that bargain. He told
me he would utilize me to help others become pure, and it would be to my
benefit. He wasn't kidding about that, either."

"Then why do you question
it?"

"Because he's a little
too
hung up on this purity stuff. He
keeps saying this is going to lead us to some kind of higher existence. That
kind of unnerves me. What does that mean to me? Am I going to become some pure
elemental force of the land? I don't even know what in blazes that might
be."

"And that is what concerns you?"

"Yeah, and it should concern
you, too. Because it might mean he expects you to turn into some large storm.
No more elfie, just a big bag of wind, rain, and lightning. You want
that?"

Scheff did not answer.

"And then there's Ansas
himself. He casts pure black magic. That in itself is kind of disturbing. I
think it's rarer than white magic. What does he expect to become? Death?"

Neltus let out a heavy sigh. He
wasn't worried about saying too much to the elf. He also wasn't concerned with
Ansas finding out what he thought. Part of the sorcerer's magic was already
inside of him, and Neltus honestly believed if Ansas wanted to know any of his
deep secrets, there was nothing he could do to shield them from the sorcerer.

In the end, Neltus realized he
would gain no greater insight from Scheff.

"Well, elfie, I can't
complain too much about what's happened. Ansas has kept to his word and I
intend to keep to mine. I'll continue showing up when he calls, but I'll also
keep wondering what he really has in mind. I don't think he's ever going to
tell us. I'm guessing he doesn't think we're entitled to hear it. Maybe we're
not. It's just something to think about."

Linda never rose to leave for
work. She remained in bed gazing at the ceiling, staring at the emptiness above
her that seemed to symbolize her condition. She tried to make sense of what was
happening to her, tried to understand all of the emotions that had crashed down
upon her, and then left her frozen and too tired to care.

She couldn't.

So many images had rushed through
her mind, images she couldn't comprehend. They were like flashes of memories,
rekindled occurrences brought out by a distinct smell or a familiar song. They
were far from complete; just shreds of scenes, small pieces of a picture... a
corner here, a torn edge there. While there was never sufficient detail to get
a full understanding of the stray recollections, enough substance was imprinted
in her mind to glean certain aspects for reference. To add to her dismay, the
images never contained anything she could actually recall, nothing she could
place within the realm of her own previous experiences.

What was worse, many of the
strange fragments contained a deep emotion. Fear, anger, sadness, desperation,
worry, confusion; all of these sensations were contained in the shreds of
mysterious messages, yet they were all foreign. It wasn't her fear, or her
anger, or even her confusion. The emotions that somehow rushed into her
consciousness weren't her own.

She knew what it was like to be
afraid and she certainly knew how to worry. She worried every time Ryson left
to explore some dangerous part of Uton. Even when she tried to bury her
anxiousness, she still understood it.

It was by no means an unfamiliar
sensation, but the torrent of unfamiliar thoughts sparked an emotional
sensation that lacked any attachment. It was like she was concerned about
something that meant nothing to her, as if she suddenly became anxious over the
chip in a dinner plate owned by a neighbor. Obviously, she shouldn't care, but
for some reason, such anxieties took a dominant place within the center of her
being.

It was the same with her anger.
Most of what had flooded her consciousness wasn't hers. She was getting
frustrated at what was happening to her, but that feeling was far overshadowed
by the rage of another sort. Again, it wasn't her anger that had cast a shadow
across her being, it was an external fury. The emotion was raw and clear, but
whatever its source, it wasn't really her concern. Just as with her anxiousness,
it was like she was mad about something totally inconsequential, as if being
annoyed with a broken farm cart. What should she care about such things?

Despite the irrelevance of the
concerns, the fury that had washed over her burned with frightful force. The
instant the mysterious thoughts cascaded through her mind, she trembled with
fury. The rage had been so deep she wanted to scream as her muscles tensed and
her vision blurred with red hot wrath.