Delver Magic Book VII: Altered Messages (10 page)

Without another word, Petiole stepped into the center of the square as outlined by the four enchanted stones. He started to drop to his knees, but before they could touch the ground, he disappeared, as if a curtain made of shadow was pulled around him.

"We must all leave now," the lead gluun advised, and one by one the gluuns entered the space between the four stones and vanished in a similar manner.

When the last gluun was teleported from the cave, each rock exploded. A flash of lightning lit up the entire block of cells and a blast of fury blew the door from its iron hinges. A rumble of thunder rocked the very foundation of the dwarf palace, and the trembling of stone could be felt at its highest tower.

Dwarf guards stormed into the dungeon and raced to the site of the blast. No one was hurt, but they knew the elf who had once unleashed shadow tree seeds upon their city had escaped.

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Pru could not understand how the dwarves could not see the tracks. They led right into the access tunnel and were obviously the footprints of the large goblin he had followed through
Dark Spruce Forest.

"They're right there," the half-delver exclaimed as he pointed to the ground at the mouth of the cave.

The two dwarves looked at the ground, then at each other, and finally back at the half-delver who was, to their ears, weaving a strange tale. They both wore expressions of weary annoyance.

It was no secret; they hated guard duty, especially patrols at entrances to access tunnels. The caves were all well hidden in heavy brush. Very few knew of the tunnel's existence. Elves knew about the main entrances, but they also knew not to enter unless they were invited.

The only real threat was a bloat spider trying to cast a web around the entrance or a shag seeking a new den, but dissuading such mindless dark creatures was a thankless task. Unfortunately, the growing relations with humans led to other trials. It suddenly seemed dwarf sentries needed to deal with insane half-delvers as well.

One of the dwarves questioned the entire story.

"You say a large goblin ran through the forest at a speed that matches your own—and you are half-delver—passed right by us, and into the cave?"

"That's right."

"And you can see the tracks right here... on the ground before me?"

"They're right there. Can't you see them?"

"I see nothing," the dwarf revealed with a stern expression.

Pru looked to the second dwarf.

"What about you?"

"Nothing there," the second dwarf grumbled.

"And we saw no goblin enter our cave," the first dwarf added.

"Maybe you were looking in the wrong direction."

That assumption drew an unhappy snarl.

"Are you stating we are so incompetent we would not notice a goblin of unusual size racing toward our position?"

"You said you didn't see him."

"We also don't see the tracks that are not there. Have you been downing the ale a bit heavily, half-delver?"

"You think I'm drunk?"

"I'm not sure what you are, but there are no goblin footprints on this ground."

Pru could not understand it. He could see the tracks as clear as day and they led directly into the tunnel to Dunop.

"Look, maybe you think I'm drunk... or even crazy, but will you at least let me follow the tracks to see where they lead? I think the goblin was using some kind of magic. Maybe that explains why you can't see anything. I think it explains why he was able to stay ahead of me."

"Even with magic, a goblin would not be able to enter Dunop unnoticed through this tunnel. We are aware of the tricks of magic, and we have devised ways to deal with it."

"Maybe he's still in the tunnel." Pru offered. "It's worth checking, isn't it? I'll tell you what; I'll leave my crossbow and hunting sword here. I'll be unarmed. You can escort me. Actually, I'll need you, because I'm not going in there alone without a weapon. I think he's still in there."

The sentries did not know why the half-delver wished to follow a trail that did not exist, but the degree with which the he pleaded his case surprised the dwarf guards. They agreed to his request, but only one would follow Pru into the cave. The second guard remained at the entrance, alert for any new surprises.

The dwarf escort allowed the half-delver to lead the way. He could not understand what Pru was looking at as the ground remained clear of any foreign tracks.

Pru moved slowly down the tunnel. He sniffed the air and listened intently for signs of the half-goblin. He sensed nothing and his surprise expanded when the goblin tracks ended before they had even begun to descend into the depths of the deepening tunnel.

The dwarf noticed the half-delver's alarm.

"Something wrong?"

"The tracks end here."

"The tracks I can't see?"

Frustration was beginning to bubble over for Pru.

"Yeah, the one's you can't see! They stop here."

"Do you see a goblin here that I cannot see?"

"No, I don't!"

Pru dropped to the ground and inspected the tracks with both his eyes and his hands. He could see great detail in the footprints, but his fingers could not detect the hollows or edges of the tracks. He could feel moisture in the ground, but nothing else. He realized the trail was nothing more than an illusion.

"It's a trick."

"You are admitting this is all some kind of game?" the wary dwarf questioned with growing impatience and annoyance.

"No, no... that's not what I mean. The tracks are an illusion. They're not real."

"Of course they're not real, they're not even there."

"You don't understand. You weren't meant to see them... only I was. But it couldn't have all been an illusion. The tracks in the forest were real. I know that. The illusion must have started before the cave."

"Are you saying there is no goblin?"

"No! There is a goblin, but I don't know where he went anymore. This trail is fake. I have to go back and see if I can find if there's a new trail somewhere around here."

The dwarf was willing to oblige and almost began to escort the half-delver back to the forest when a group of dwarf soldiers rushed up the tunnel from Dunop.

"What is going on?" the dwarf sentry demanded.

"All entrances are to be sealed," the lead soldier shouted. "No one gets in and no one gets out. The elf has escaped."

The dwarf soldier running up the tunnel did not need to reveal the name of the elf. Every dwarf in Dunop knew there was only one elf prisoner within the city. The dwarf sentry immediately recognized the severity of the situation. He took hold of Pru's arm with an iron grip. He would not give the half-delver a chance to escape. There were suddenly too many questions... and answers were required.

"You need to come with me!" the dwarf guard said to Pru.

It was not a polite request. It was an absolute demand.

When Pru was brought through Dunop, every fiber of his delver half yearned to run off and investigate the amazing city. The collection of stone edifices filled him with awe. He had previously explored caves filled with natural wonders, but he had never before seen such sculptured strength. He could almost feel the rock bending to the will of dwarf construction. He would have loved nothing more than to race around the underground streets and examine every section of the city, to feel the stone and inspect every structure from foundation to rooftop.

Despite Pru's strong desires, his predicament kept him from rushing off on any spontaneous exploration. A quartet of dwarf soldiers walked with him, surrounded him. He was not being offered some guided tour or a pleasant stroll through the glorious city. His steps were determined by the dwarves, and his escorts directed him toward their own objective with absolute certainty.

The dwarves marched with stone-faced intent and they meant to keep Pru within their midst. They were not physically abusive, or even disrespectful. The sentry that Pru first encountered even released his hold of the half-delver, allowed Pru to walk freely, but the surrounding warriors made it clear he was not to make any sudden moves or attempt to escape.

Initially, Pru considered making a dash for an exit, but decided against it. While dwarves could not match his speed, they were surprisingly quick, especially with their weapons. He knew he could outmaneuver them and certainly outrace them, but Pru was not as confident he could dodge any number of throwing hatchets. Until he knew more of what was happening, racing away—whether to explore or to escape—wasn't worth the gamble.

His delver half might have been filled with curiosity, but his human side became inundated with worry. A grim uneasiness pulsated from every dwarf he passed. Rumors of an event were spreading fast. He could sense it. He heard it in a few whispers and saw it in the disconcerted expressions of each dwarf. He knew someone of importance had escaped, knew it was an elf, but he did not know the full story behind Petiole.

The name wasn't totally foreign to him. He had heard accounts of the elf, but they were mostly from human taverns. Petiole was accused of trying to wipe out the entire race of dwarves, but stories from inns weren't always the most reliable. He had always thought it might have been nothing more than a minor misunderstanding blown out of proportion. Tales from taverns tended to be that way.

Still, Pru could not dismiss the signs around him. He had to accept the elf's escape was significant, but he remained both anxious and confused. He still could not understand what had happened to Okyiq, or why the goblin had entered a dwarf tunnel just to disappear.

The half-delver could also not comprehend why the dwarves had become so concerned with his own activities. With each step through the underground city, he was feeling more like a prisoner and less like a scout.

As they made their way to the formidable fortress at the center of Dunop, Pru's anxiety began to build. The dwarves weren't bringing him to a guard post for questioning by some low level battle commander. They were taking him to the very heart of Dunop, the seat of its power. The gray stone structures that previously filled him with awe suddenly began to cast a dark shadow across his every step.

While trying to understand how chasing a goblin turned into such a plight, Pru started to believe fortune had swung against him. He wasn't superstitious to the point of believing in absurd folklore, but he believed he understood luck. It could work for him or against him, and if it turned bad, things could get ugly. Inspecting the expressions of every dwarf he passed, he wondered if he faced a situation that had moved far beyond gruesome.

He was brought inside the castle, down a long hall, and immediately to what appeared to be the throne room. The throne itself was vacant, but many dwarves filled the hall, as did their whispers of concern.

Pru's keen hearing allowed him to monitor a great many conversations at once. It seemed several advisors were considering the aspects of the elf's escape, though initially, there were only fragments of information. In listening to one whisper after another, Pru realized that the news was not only fragmented but also contradictory. He guessed no one was certain what had actually happened and rumor was spreading faster than fact. That was never a healthy environment, and Pru's concern continued to expand.

The dwarf guards directed him to a row of chairs off to the side of the room, and they allowed him to take a seat. They instructed him to wait—that important dwarves would soon arrive who wished speak to him—but nothing else. Two of the four dwarf escorts exited the throne room, but two remained. They did not crowd the half-delver, but they stood close enough so that Pru knew he was still under guard.

While waiting far longer than he expected, Pru monitored the activities of each dwarf who entered the hall. The rumors and wild stories began to dwindle. Those who spoke of the incident began to focus on simple facts. There was less conjecture and even less contradiction. It seemed as if the dwarves settled on certain conclusions; the elf Petiole received outside aid to escape his cell, and he did so with the use of magical teleportation.

As for the half-delver's appearance in the throne room, the other dwarves gave him a glance now and then, but they said nothing further about his circumstances. Perhaps they were instructed to remain quiet regarding the possible intruder or perhaps they knew he might hear them, but they revealed little about what they thought of him. Beyond being the tallest individual in the throne room, Pru was initially nothing more than a curiosity.

Just as the half-delver considered standing to stretch his legs, a contingent of dwarves entered the hall through a side entrance. Pru noticed one of them carrying the crossbow and hunting sword that he recalled leaving at the tunnel entrance. They walked directly toward the half-delver. It was obviously time for Pru to answer their questions.

A dwarf woman moved to the head of the line and took a seat next to Pru before he could stand to greet her. She folded her hands in her lap, looked the half-delver over once, and then let out a soft but deep breath.

She looked about the hall before saying anything, even gave a glance to several of the advisers, but she said nothing to them. She sat back further in her chair and looked up toward the ceiling. An unsettling silence filled the room. Finally, she spoke, but she did not immediately turn her gaze upon Pru. It remained on the gray stone ceiling over their heads.