Delver Magic Book VII: Altered Messages (20 page)

At first, travelers approaching or departing the city doubted their chances at survival. They didn't simply see a flood, they saw death rolling headstrong directly at them. They knew they could not fight against the raging currents racing towards them. They would be swept off their feet and drowned or crushed.

As it turned out, escape was all too easy. They didn't have to outrun the flood or struggle through the current. They only had to step off the road and onto the edges of neighboring fields. The three separate spears of water stayed in the confines of the roadways like convoys of merchant wagons. The astonished travelers watched in complete awe as the flood bypassed them, left them safe and dry.

Jure could not dismiss the manner in which the surging waters approached Connel's edge. The power of destruction would be magnified, the devastation would be monumental.

Realizing Connel faced a magical attack, Jure understood he could not rely on a basic spell to stop the assault. He was not just facing a fight with surging waters freed from the banks of the
Fuge River. He would also have to overcome the initial spell that created the peril.

The guard next to Jure knew of the wizard's power. It could not come close to that of Enin, but it was forceful in its own right.

"Can you stop it?" the guard asked.

Jure did not doubt his own abilities. He believed he could overpower the spell, counter it in such a way to remove its influence over the roaring currents. Unfortunately, it would not be enough. The opposing spell would lose its influence, but the flood waters wouldn't just disappear. They would spill out over the farmlands and surge into the streets of Connel.

"I can break the spell, but what do I do with the water?"

"Can't you turn it back?"

"Defeating the spell that's feeding the flood will take most of my magic. Look at all that water. I won't be able to stop it with the energy I have left."

"If those three flows hit us at once, they'll demolish most of the city," the guard pointed out. "If you break them apart, the city gets flooded, but it won't be pulverized."

Jure couldn't argue the point. He almost began to cast the spell to counteract the magic that propelled the currents, but he stopped almost immediately. He realized there was another alternative.

"No, I don't have to break them apart. I just have to keep them from hitting the city, redirect them away from us. All I have to do is create a magical dam."

Once again, Jure started to cast a spell, and once again, he halted the casting before it was complete. He looked out at each channel of water with the same dumbfounded amazement that etched itself on the expressions of every traveler on the side of the road.

Not one of the three raging spears of water ever reached the border of Connel. All three simply stopped, as if a mighty hand held firm against the head of each wave. The waters continued to bubble and churn, but the currents would make no further advance. Eventually, they even started to retreat. After long tense moments, they pulled out of sight.

"Did you do that?" the soldier asked of Jure.

"No," the wizard responded.

"What does it mean?"

"I don't know."

#

The captain of the elf guard, Birk Grund, took council with the camp's elder, Shantree Wispon. He was prepared to give a full report of his findings, but began with the level of casualties. His voice was as grim as his expression, and he found it difficult to look the elder in the eye.

He blamed himself for the disaster, wished he didn't have to speak about his perceived failings, but shirking his responsibilities would only serve to fester his disgrace. He attempted to address the situation with solemn strength, but the words fell from his lips with a tremor of shame.

"Three elves have died, seven are seriously injured, others have suffered only minor scrapes. The wounded, and the dead, have been removed from the crater. While no magic has been used near the site of the collapse—as per your orders—healing spells are being utilized in secure areas on those who have been injured. There should be no further loss of life."

"There has already been too much loss," Shantree responded sadly. She did not blame the elf captain in any fashion, but the burden of leading the elves through the calamity weighed heavily upon her as well.

The elf elder looked down upon the deep crater at the center of the elf camp. Broken tree limbs, cracked trunks, and a host of unsettled rock and soil filled the middle of the wide sunken depression. Four mature trees had collapsed into the cavity. Cracked branches covered with leaves jutted outward in every direction, and the entire crooked heap looked like the tangled mess of discarded debris from a logger's camp. A fifth tree at the border of the crater fell away from the depression and lodged itself into the limbs of a neighboring elm. Its base was pulled up from the ground in a mass of clumped dirt and twisted roots.

The once clear ground where elves gathered was nothing more than a testament to quick and cunning destruction. There had been no warnings, no indication of danger. The ground simply collapsed beneath elf and tree alike, and both suffered greatly.

While not one elf witnessed the actual cause, there were signs they could not ignore. From her position at the edge of the crater, Shantree could see several openings along the sides of the depression, clear indications of insects digging underground. She wanted to know more about where the burrows led.

"Have you followed all the of the tunnels?" she asked.

"Yes, for all those we have found, but there may be more deeper underground, covered by the debris."

"The ones you explored, where do they lead?"

"In several different directions, but all were eventually sealed by structural collapse. We were not able to get very far."

"Intentional?"

"It appears that way."

"Any change in the consistency of the tunnels?"

"No, they all indicate evidence of being dug by rock beetles. Even the cave-ins reveal signs of the insects covering their retreat."

Shantree did not doubt the captain of the elf guard, but she requested further verification. While Birk felt a sense of failure, the elder began to experience a growing uneasiness. She looked beyond the event itself and attempted to reckon its significance within a series of complex incidents that, on the surface, seemed unrelated.

"Any strange tracks within the tunnels? Anything that cannot be identified or linked to the rock beetles?"

"That is the interesting detail," Birk admitted. "There are no visible tracks that can be linked to any creature, just the clear scrapings that created the tunnels."

"No tracks at all?" Shantree asked, clearly surprised by the disclosure. "Not even of the beetles?"

"None," Birk responded stoically.

Shantree frowned. She found that piece of news extremely unsettling. She took a few paces along the edge of the crater, looked at the destruction from a slightly different angle.

"What is the integrity of the grounds in other areas of the camp?"

"It is sound, as far as I can tell."

"You do not sound confident."

"I am not. Before the crater appeared, I would have believed this ground to be sound. Rock beetles can tunnel very quickly. They could create similar tunnels in a very short time and we would be hard pressed to notice the activity. Another section of ground could collapse in mere moments."

"Is there a way we can secure the area?"

Birk did not wish to appear as if he was questioning the elder's instructions, for he took complete responsibility for the calamity, but he had to point out deficiencies in their measured responses caused by Shantree's own edicts.

"We could, if you allowed us to use magic, but you are restricting its use. All we can do is test the ground by inserting rods deep into the soil. With this method, we have found no other signs of instability, but the rods can only go so deep. Rock beetles can tunnel far underground."

"If it
was
rock beetles."

Birk found the assertion surprising. He had found nothing that would point to any other cause, and the tunnels that led to the collapse were as visible as the trees that surrounded the camp.

"You have doubts?"

"There are no tracks," Shantree reminded the elf captain.

"There may be no tracks, but the tunnels themselves display obvious markings of rock beetle digging. I believe that is very clear."

"Unless the tunnels were created that way on purpose... to look as if they were excavated by the insects."

"You believe it was something else?"

Shantree did not answer the question. Instead, she sought additional information.

"Any sign of magic?"

"Our most sensitive elves do not detect any spells."

"That is why I did not want to use spells to search for the beetles. I wanted to be certain that magic was not the cause."

The elf captain knew that Shantree believed that there was another threat in the forest, but it was his duty to expose such perils. He had already cursed himself for not discovering the rock beetles before they caused severe damage to the camp. Suddenly, he was questioning what else he might have missed.

Birk looked across the crater and felt another pang of guilt. The disheveled heap symbolized his assumed failings, but he would not allow sullen emotions to interfere with his obligations. He considered the facts as he knew them, and tried to determine if he had made yet another miscalculation.

"If you believe something else might be responsible for this attack, I must insist you inform me of your suspicions."

"Suspicion is an accurate word," Shantree confessed. "That is why I wish to be careful in what I say. I put greater trust in your judgment than I do in my petty concerns."

"Petty? The concerns of the camp elder should never be considered petty."

"They should when they are based on unsubstantiated mistrust or prejudiced emotions."

"Mistrust? Prejudiced emotions?"

Shantree found it uncomfortable, but she explained further.

"I must admit I have been unhappy about my encounter with the dwarf emissary."

"The dwarves?" Birk questioned, obviously surprised by the turn of the conversation.

"Yes, the dwarves," Shantree acknowledged. "I did not appreciate the tone with which I was addressed. The emissary from Dunop was very clear. The dwarves were not
requesting
our assistance. They were
insisting
on our compliance to all of their demands. Though I understand their distress over Petiole's escape, I did not appreciate the insinuation that elves might have aided in the incident."

"I understand your annoyance," Birk allowed, "but how does this relate to the rock beetles that attacked our camp?"

"That is the point. I do not understand the attack, especially if it was perpetrated by enlarged insects."

"You must be more specific," Birk insisted.

"We were attacked in a precise manner. The center of our camp was targeted. To me, this does not appear as hungry rock beetles attacking prey."

"I am not sure I can completely agree," Birk responded. The disgust he felt for his assumed failings began simmering into a more turbulent mistrust of his instincts. He felt the need to defend his previous assumptions. "I admit, I considered the possibility of other aggressors... I even considered spell casters, but the tunnels are not consistent with magical creation. The pattern is disorganized and the digging is rough. The assault is much more in line with known rock beetle behavior. The center of our camp contains the most activity. Beetles are sensitive to such vibrations. They would target the point with the potential for the largest amount of prey."

Shantree was not deterred. She did not wish to badger the captain or disparage his conclusions, but in her mind, a gap existed between their findings and his conclusion.

"Then why did they not attack helpless victims when the ground collapsed? If they targeted prey, why not seize elves trapped in the debris? If they had done this for food, I would understand it all, but this is nothing more than a deliberate display of destruction."

"Our guards entered the tunnels immediately," Birk pointed out. "It might have been enough to scare them off."

"Yet, not one elf guard actually witnessed the appearance of a single insect. You have also been unable to locate any specific tracks. Why would rock beetles dig tunnels and then hide their tracks? And how would they have had time to do so if they were only interested in food and then had to escape elf guards?"

Birk began to see the elder's points, but many inconsistencies remained.

"But the tunnels show clear signs of being dug by the beetles. I admit I do not understand the lack of tracks, but the tunnels themselves point directly to the insects. If not beetles, then what was responsible? No spell created the tunnels. Our elves would have sensed such a casting."

Shantree hesitated, but only for a moment. She knew Birk would insist on an answer. He would not allow her to bury her concerns when the security of the camp was in question.