Delver Magic: Book 06 - Pure Choice (37 page)

Once more, Ryson didn't quite
understand everything the wizard meant, but he did believe he and Linda
belonged together, and perhaps that was why he went to Enin in the first place,
to confirm that belief. In a way, he had done so. Enin might not have been
willing to come right out and say it, but the delver could sense it. That was
what Enin was trying to tell him, and Ryson would help Linda reaffirm it as
well.

"I'm glad I came here,"
Ryson admitted.

"I hope I helped," Enin
offered sincerely.

"You did. I'll do what I can.
Thanks." It was really all Ryson could say. He felt a little awkward and
he tried to redirect the conversation. He realized that he had not yet seen
Holli and she was usually not far from the wizard's side.

"Has Holli returned
yet?" he asked.

"Not yet," Enin
revealed. "She's still assisting the elves that have returned from the
dark realm, but she and Jure should be returning quite soon... perhaps any
moment."

"You've spoken to her?"

"Not exactly, but my link to
her remains strong. I understand what happened."

"So you know about the sorcerer?"

"Ansas? Yes, an interesting
individual."

'Interesting' was not quite the
word Ryson would have used to describe the sorcerer. 'Treacherous' was much
more appropriate.

"What are you going to do
about him?"

"Nothing."

The simple answer surprised the
delver.

"You don't think he's
dangerous?"

"My opinion is irrelevant.
What is important is that he has done nothing that requires my
intervention."

Ryson wasn't ready to agree with
such an assertion.

"The elves might argue that.
He abducted them... used them."

"That may be true, but isn't
that an issue for the elves? They haven't asked me to intercede for them."

"If they did?"

"Then I would seek out this
Ansas and request he make the proper reconciliation. I am happy to offer
protection for anyone that asks me, but I refuse to become the conscience of
the land, or its overlord."

"So you'll assist but not
meddle," Ryson offered, somewhat beginning to understand Enin's position.

"You put it very well."

"Well, I think you've
assisted me today. I'm not sure exactly how you said it, but I do believe Linda
and I will be alright. I guess it's just something we have to work out
together. At least now we know the truth about having kids without any doubts.
We'll just go forward from here."

"That's the best way to move."
Enin then felt a small pang of guilt for not willing to go further, for not
going to speak to Linda. He made a conciliatory offer. "I don't want you
to think I'm unwilling to do more. If Linda wishes to speak to me, I will
certainly do so, but I only ask that it be her request, and not yours. There is
a difference."

"I understand. I should get
back to her."

"Do you want me to send you
there?" Enin asked.

"Would you mind? I'd like to
get back to her as soon as possible."

"Not at all. I can send you
right to your home, or outside the town gate. Which would you prefer?"

"Outside the gate,"
Ryson stated. "She's probably at work by now and I'd rather not have you
just deposit me inside the Borderline Inn. It might cause a stir."

"I would agree. Are you
ready?"

Ryson nodded.

"Very well. It was a pleasure
to see you again. Come back soon and see Stomps. He likes you."

"I will."

Upon leaving the town, Linda used
the main road that led west out of Burbon and into Dark Spruce. Though it was a
fairly wide stone and dirt passage, it had become infrequently traveled over
the past several seasons. It was still used as a supply line for well guarded
convoys that wished to cross the forest in either direction, but it remained a
lonely road normally devoid of travelers.

Once she was well out of range of
Burbon, unable to see the tall watch towers that served as part of the town's
defensive perimeter, she turned down a nearly invisible foot path. It was a
foolish choice, but it led her to where she wanted to go. She rushed brazenly
away from the main road, willingly turning her back to the only sign of
civilization.

As the trail before her narrowed,
so too did her craving to escape any connection to her home. Initially, she
welcomed the thicker brush and the ever expanding clusters of trees as they
served to form a natural barrier, separated her more and more from any passage
back to Burbon. She embraced the isolation.

Linda didn't stagger or stumble
through the forest; she stormed across the rough terrain as if it was just one
more irritation that added to her fury. As the forest became more of an
obstacle, she cursed at the tree trunks that blocked her way, swatted away the
branches that scratched her face, and kicked at the roots that forced her to
falter. She viciously ripped away at the brush that blocked nearly every path,
all the while raging at each individual stalk as if it were a personal nemesis.

If asked, she couldn't reveal her
ultimate destination beyond wanting to go deeper into the forest and away from
Burbon. She tried to maintain a westerly direction, but eventually, even that
became a futile effort as the thick woods closed around her. The surrounding
trees left her without any reference point to guide her travels. In all
directions, everything looked very much the same, and so, she simply pressed
onward into the denser sections of Dark Spruce.

The diminishing path twisted and
turned through the trees, broke over both rock and mud, and ultimately
disappeared altogether. Eventually, there was nothing for Linda to follow
beyond seemingly senseless animal trails through the shaded grounds of the
heavy woods.

She had no food, no water, and no
weapon for defense. She didn't care. She didn't concern herself over her safety
or her ability to survive. Her palpable anger pushed her onward, but it was
only partially her own rage that stoked her emotional state.

Most of the fury that swelled
inside her came from an external source, and the raw emotion agitated her
beyond clear thinking. She felt a certain amount of fear to be sure, fear that
might have forced her to turn back from such a dangerous course, but the anger
eventually suffocated everything else.

Even as she raged through areas
known to be inundated with goblins and shags, she screamed out curses without a
single care to whom or what might hear her. Her arms flailed in every
direction, doing more than swiping away the surrounding brush and branches. She
swung furiously at the empty air, as if assaulting ghosts that only she could
see.

If she had been able to see
herself, she would have realized she was more than a mad rushing spectacle, she
was an attraction for anything within shouting distance. But even if blessed
with a moment of clarity, she wouldn't have ceased her ravings.

She did not care about what might
discover her, gave no thought to the dangers in the forest. If something wished
to attack her, she actually welcomed the challenge. Perhaps it was the foreign
emotions that clouded her judgment, or perhaps it was a way to release the
tidal wave of fury, but she had no desire to avoid any confrontation.

Her antics did not go
undetected... they couldn't for long. Even as the ordinary animal inhabitants
of the forest took flight from her path, creatures more inclined, even
attracted to fitful outbursts, gave quick notice. They did not regard the
raging clamor as a signal to make a hasty retreat. Quite the opposite, they
were hostile beasts often looking for a fight.

Initially, clusters of goblins
sensed easy prey. The screams were somewhat odd, but also recognizable. They
knew of humans, knew they still entered the forest. They had seen convoys
passing through the woods, but they were usually well guarded. Goblins would
attack supply lines only if desperate or if their packs had reached numbers enough
to overwhelm the escorting guards.

Smaller groups of goblins waited
for easier prey, and over time, they tended to uncover the hapless adventurer
or the lost straggler. Even human scouts that were well trained in surviving
the forest often fell to goblins, either through momentary carelessness or some
ill-timed misfortune that left them unprepared and on indefensible ground.

As for Linda, several goblins watched
her intently, even if they couldn't understand her intentions. She stood out
like a burning arrow sailing across an open night sky. Her actions were beyond
lunacy. They were suicidal.

Something beyond her rage,
however, gave the goblins pause, kept them from immediately falling upon the
deranged human screaming so near their meager camps. Even as the female called
out in anger and disgust, they sensed a confrontation should be avoided, many
even raced away.

It was not her insane rage, and
certainly not her physical presence that raised the goblin anxiety. It was not
even her immunity to magic. In fact, that was something they might have sensed,
and if so, would have attacked as a dangerous anomaly.

Immunity to magic was not
something dark creatures could accept or even understand. When the land was
without magic, they were shut out from Uton, forced to remain in the dark
realm. Magic was the key to escaping the desperate breeding grounds of their
origin. The total absence of magic was something dangerous to them, something
they abhorred.

They never got close enough to
sense Linda's magical immunity for there was a haze of another sort drifting
off of the cursing human. Goblins were not adept in forms of spell casting, and
nearly all lacked sensible judgment, but they instinctively understood power.

The woman might have been a
vulnerable target, an easy victim for even a few goblins with paltry weapons,
but every goblin could feel the obvious force that seemed to drip off the woman
like water from melting icicles. And so, each diminutive fiend gave her a wide
berth and let her pass further into the forest without incident.

With a protective emanation of
which she was not even aware, Linda continued her unyielding march through Dark
Spruce. She was oblivious to the goblins. If she had noticed them, she might
have even challenged them. She also failed to notice the tracks of a much
larger beast, a creature that had previously claimed the territory she
carelessly invaded.

The shag heard the human long
before it spotted her. At first, the clamor annoyed the monster. It wondered if
it was yet one more predator trying to stake a claim to its lands. Such
instances had increased over the past few days, and the creature was growing
weary of the conflict.

Though not terribly intelligent
and certainly not passive, the beast had been able to avoid such clashes in the
past. It had done so due to its fortune in finding a territory frequented by
elves. The shag had learned to coexist with the elves, mostly by avoiding the
slender and nimble tree walkers, but when the elves mysteriously abandoned the
area, other monsters brazenly filled the gap.

Rather than avoid the encroaching
dark creatures as it had done with the elves, the beast decided to fight them
off. The river rogues were the most difficult, but even the larger goblin packs
were becoming a nuisance. The new invader, one that was exceedingly loud, was
another such irritation.

Upon closing in on Linda, the fur
laden beast also sensed an ominous aura spilling out from the woman. It smelled
of something the monster could not quite identify—not death, not even evil—but
something that offered a message of its own. There was nothing truly sinister
about the interloper, but there was something around her that exuded more than
just danger. It was a warning, one the large shag could not dismiss.

The creature lacked the intelligence
to pinpoint the sensation, but it was reminded of the moment it crossed over
from the dark realm. It was a suffocating blankness, a stirring absence of
reality. It was very much a sensation the creature wished to avoid.

Initially, the shag backed away
from the intruder. The lingering cloud of peril surrounding the invader removed
the monster's instinct to defend its territory, but only temporarily. As the
beast retreated toward its den, its small mind swam with an even greater
influence; a desire for dominance.

The shag could not fully
comprehend the scope of the aura around Linda. It found it repulsive, even
terrifying, but it was not ready to concede to a simple sensation. While it
normally acted more on instinct than on critical considerations, the choice it
faced became surprisingly clear. It could run from the strange trespasser or it
could assert its claim over the territory.

Ultimately, the creature decided
to turn around. It had fought off too many intruders to simply skulk back into
its den. The shag stalked toward the sound of harsh curses with renewed
courage.

#

Ryson went first to the Borderline
Inn. He was disappointed to hear that Linda had not shown up for work, even
concerned, but not completely surprised. He recalled her previous state of
emotional detachment. If she had remained in such a condition, skipping work
would have been understandable. He would have even suggested it.

He rushed to their home, expecting
to find her there, wondering if she was still lying in bed. He passed through
the front door hoping she would rush to him with joy in her eyes as she had
done so many times in the past.

Nothing.

There was no sign of trouble.
Everything in their home remained in order. Linda simply wasn't there. There
was no note, no indication at all of where she might have gone.

His concern began to grow. He
wanted to find her as soon as possible, and to that end, it was imperative to
get more information. After his last conversation with Sy, Ryson wasn't sure it
was the best idea to see the guard captain, but based on the circumstances, it
was the only place to go.