Delver Magic Book VII: Altered Messages (44 page)

While Ryson continued to examine the surrounding stone, Jure waited patiently by his side. He believed the delver was utilizing his powerful senses to find traces of the dwarf within the cavern. As Ryson's investigations continued, the wizard grew anxious.

"Are you having trouble finding him?" Jure finally asked of the delver.

"Huh?"

"Bol. Do you think he's still here, or is he somewhere else?"

"Oh, no." Ryson then pointed to a section of the cavern off to his left. "He hasn't left. He's over there."

The wizard looked toward the chamber in question. He couldn't see any movement, but he had no reason to doubt the delver. He looked to Ryson, expecting him to lead them over to the dwarf king, but Ryson remained preoccupied with the cavern itself. Jure didn't want to assert himself, but he couldn't understand why the delver was not moving forward.

"Are you worried about approaching Bol?" the wizard wondered.

"No, he knows we're here," the delver revealed. "I can tell by the way he's moving around. He probably even heard us talking to the swallits. I can't believe he didn't. Sound carries pretty easily down here."

Jure wasn't sure what to say next. Finding the dwarf king was at the very heart of their mission, but there was still much to do and several obstacles to overcome.

"So what do we do?" Jure asked with a hint of uncertainty.

"What's that?" Ryson responded, as he remained more interested in examining the arrangement of the cavern.

"How should we approach Bol?"

"We can just walk up to him. It's not like he can outrun us." But the delver then turned the conversation back to the cavern. "Do you see that corridor over there? It curves around those large pillars in the center of the cave. Do you think it curves all the way back around or does it branch off further away from us?"

"Does it matter? Why do you even care?"

Ryson answered honestly and without taking any insult.

"This used to be a dwarf city. If you look hard enough, you can almost see how it was structured. It's amazing how they removed all indications, but the foundation is still here. There were roads and rows of buildings. I can't imagine what the architecture looked like. I mean
Sterling was so different than Dunop, but I can definitely see the old layout of the city."

Jure offered a brief look across the stone, not simply to appease the delver, but to satisfy his own curiosity. He saw a magnificent cavern of natural beauty, but he could not detect the kind of details that a delver's eye could perceive.

"I don't notice anything, but it is rather amazing," Jure admitted. "How the dwarves could have turned this from one of their cities back into a natural cavern is beyond me. Maybe you can come back here and explore when we have more time."

The idea appealed to the delver, and it refocused his attention on the pressing matters at hand.

"You're right. I can come back later. Let's go talk to Bol now."

Ryson took the lead and marched boldly toward the chamber where the dwarf waited. Not wishing to totally surprise the exiled king, he called out his identity and his intentions.

"Bol Folarok! It's Ryson Acumen. I want to talk to you."

"No need to shout, delver. I can hear you fine. Approach if you want. I'm not going anywhere."

Ryson stepped right up to a set of stones that served as a chair for the dwarf king. The delver had never met Bol Folarok before, but he knew both the king's sons. He could see certain resemblances that matched his memories of Tun and Jon Folarok.

Beyond that, the dwarf appeared healthy but somewhat disinterested in his circumstances. If Bol cared about unexpected guests, he revealed no obvious concern. He appeared a bit grayer than other dwarves Ryson had met, and thinner as well. When Bol spoke, his voice was much rougher, as if talking was somewhat of a struggle.

"Shame you cut off the swallits. I spoke with them a few times. Rather interesting creatures. Smarter than I would have guessed. Other than some dwarves that would bring me supplies, they were my only visitors, until now."

"We're not really visitors," Ryson explained. "We're here..."

"I know why you're here," Bol interrupted, his voice thick with the tone of command. "I heard what you said to the swallits. Why do you think I need to see any algors?"

Ryson decided not so much to debate the exiled king as to explain the reason behind his intentions.

"Do you know why the swallits were here? A council of serps sent them. The serps are using you as a threat. They've warned others that they will turn you over to the algors unless their demands are met."

If Bol found the peril worrisome, he hid his concerns well. Instead, he focused on what he perceived as inconsistencies in the delver's logic.

"So you intend to do it for them?"

"I intend to remove the threat. I'm going to force you and the algors to make your own decisions rather than let the serps manipulate the situation."

"And what decision do I have to make? I have nothing to do with the algors."

Ryson was rather surprised by Bol's indifference.

"Nothing? After you left Dunop, dwarves attacked the algors."

"So? I've heard of what happened. The queen was always a rather demanding dwarf. She was the one who led the separatists against the algors. I'd tell you to bring her before the lizards in the desert, but from the tales I've heard, your powerful wizard friend—now of Connel—destroyed my wife. I'd like to thank him for that one day."

Ryson wanted to remain focused on Bol's actions, not on those of others.

"Your wife was able to lead the separatists because you abandoned your responsibilities."

The exiled king simply shrugged.

"Fah! You say I abandoned my rule,  I say that I accepted the inevitable. I was the one who ordered my two sons to investigate the matter at
Sanctum Mountain. You remember that, don't you delver? You're the one who was responsible for destroying Ingar's sphere and restoring magic to the land. From what I hear, you saw my son, Tun, die at the hands of sand giants, creations of the algors. You are aware of everything that happened."

"Yes, I am. I also saw how many algors were killed at the hands of dwarf warriors when Yave ordered her attack. Maybe if you saw the same thing, you wouldn't be so unsympathetic."

"I doubt the algors want my sympathy," the dwarf shot back. "If I go to them, they will just try to punish me. Isn't that why the serps threatened to bring me to the algors in the first place?"

"It is, but I intend to do it under different circumstances. I want you to go to the algors willingly, to admit your mistakes."

"I made no mistakes," the dwarf growled, but then placed his temper quickly under control. "Even if I did, do you believe some admission of error will suffice for the algors?"

"On itself, no. But I intend on revealing everything to them, just as I'm revealing it to you. They'll see how the serps are trying to use them, control them to get what they want. I can't believe they would allow for such a thing; just like I can't believe you would allow the serps to manipulate you."

"So instead of serps manipulating me, I should let you do it? Come up with another argument, delver."

Ryson shook his head in disgust. Bol was being beyond stubborn. The dwarf king was refusing to acknowledge any repercussions for his decision. Bol spoke as if relinquishing his rule had no greater impact than deciding to remove an ant from its colony, and Ryson found the exiled king's indifference infuriating.

The delver considered threatening the dwarf with his sword, maybe even piercing him slightly, just once, just to show him that despite his resistance to magic, Bol's soul could still burn.

After considering the thought, he discarded it. Threatening the dwarf with violence wasn't going to bring them where they needed to go.

He exhaled heavily and then took another look around the cavern. As he did, he began to realize just how well the dwarf king fit within the cleansed city of SandsFine. He saw similarities he could not ignore.

Bol had relinquished his authority, departed Dunop as if his decision to fade into the shadows would have no consequences. In essence, Bol erased himself from the city he once ruled, just as the dwarves had removed all traces of any dwarf presence within the underground expanse.

Ryson understood why the exiled king would choose such a place. It would give him comfort. If Bol looked hard enough, he could find reassuring signs of dwarf skill within the stone around him, but he could also see how history could be wiped clean. There were subtle reminders, but nothing that would point a finger back to the truths of a previous existence. SandsFine was a testament to forgetting the past.

Forgetting the past.

Ryson understood that was what kept Bol in SandsFine. That and the supplies that were delivered to his doorstep. Bol didn't need anything else. In some ways, the exiled king escaped the pressures and regrets of past decisions by fading into a city that no longer existed. As far as the dwarf was concerned, he had everything he needed within that cavern, and the delver suddenly realized that SandsFine was the key to obtaining Bol's cooperation.

"You know," Ryson began, "I've been looking around. This is the perfect hiding place for you."

"I am not hiding."

"Of course you're not. You're just sitting alone in this cavern that used to be a dwarf city, but I think this place reveals a great deal about you."

"What do I care what a delver thinks?"

"Probably nothing, but hear me out, because if I'm right, you might be concerned with what I might
do
."

Bol glared at the delver for only a moment, but then disregarded the veiled threat.

"Are you going to try and force me to accompany you to the Lacobian Desert? Fah, you lack the strength."

"No, you're going to come with me willingly. Because if you don't, I'm going to ruin your quiet little retreat."

"Ruin an empty cavern? Good luck."

"I don't think I need luck. I just need you to understand what you really face. Before I get to that, let's see how well I understand you. When you walked away from Dunop, you needed a place to go. There are caves all over, but you chose this cavern. Why? Could it be because it has everything you need? You said yourself that dwarves bring you supplies. Here, you don't have to worry about food, water, or clothing. Then, they leave you alone, so you don't have to face them. You don't have to face any questions about your decisions, and you don't have to deal with the stares of those that recognize you as the king who simply walked away from his throne."

"Trying to insult me? How will that help your cause?"

"Just trying to see how well I understand the situation. If you find it insulting, then perhaps I struck a nerve, but let's not worry about that. Let's look around and see how comforting this cavern can be to you. It's quiet, but it's not barren. If I can see the small traces of dwarf handiwork, I imagine you can too. It can remind you of home, but not so much that it hurts. You can pretend that SandsFine was made for you, a tomb for a king not yet dead."

"I don't deny I find this place... comfortable, but I could find another cavern."

"Could you? Could you find one that would remind you about the past, but only to a certain degree? Would you really want to live in some plain hole in the ground for the rest of your life? I think you'd much rather stay here."

"And if you're right? So what. Are you really going to have your wizard destroy this cavern just to inconvenience me? Fah, I don't think you would do that."

"No, I won't destroy this place, but I'd take away its secret. That possibility already exists and you know it, don't you?"

"You're talking in riddles now," Bol replied, but his tone lacked its previous certainty.

"The dwarves have always been worried about humans finding this place," Ryson revealed. "What would happen if I just told them about it? I could have my wizard friend here blast a hole through the rock to connect to one of the old mine shafts nearby. It would open a path for humans to easily make it down here. I think most humans would love to explore this place."

Bol glowered at the delver but said nothing.

"That would be the end for you here, wouldn't it?" Ryson pressed. "You'd have to leave. The dwarves that use this place as a landmark would have to seal off all access tunnels to other dwarf cities. There'd be no more supplies. Where would you go?"

"Wherever I had to," the exiled king growled.

"And I believe you. You would move on... find somewhere else to survive, but what would it do to you? You'd either have to give up all your connections to your dwarf heritage or find some dwarf city that would accept you as nothing more than a refugee. Is that what you want?"

"What does it matter what I want? When has it ever mattered?"

"It matters now, because I'm offering you a choice," Ryson explained. "Come with us to the desert, face the algors. If they let you go, you can return here and I won't say a thing to the humans. I know you're not afraid of what the algors might do to you, so what do you have to lose?"