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I hate to say things like that, but we have to face the possibility. Where the
humans had thechurchofGodson to maintain the legends, the delvers had no
church. In my dealings with them, I know they are aware of the legends but
they don't have any structured following that I know of. Their race became
splintered and eventually absorbed by the humans. It is difficult enough these
days to find a pure bred delver. This may mean their piece of the puzzle is
lost."
"If that is true, we may face a losing battle," Mappel said wearily. "I
had not truly thought of the delver's tier until now. I had spoken briefly to
Ryson of it. He had hoped that Matthew might know of where to look."
Both Stephen and Mappel turned a hopeful gaze toward the reader, but
Matthew's expression curtailed any further enthusiasm.
"I didn't even know the human's secret of the tiers," he admitted with a
sour grimace. "How should I be expected to know of what the delvers put in
Sanctum?"
"Maybe Ryson thought you would know of someone in Connel who might know?"
Stephen posed.
"He would know better than I. All I can suggest is asking other delvers.
They mostly spend time at the Night Watch Inn. But what am I supposed to do?
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Just go up to total strangers, ask them if they are delvers and then ask them
if they know of the secrets inSanctumMountain ? I don't think that would be
wise."
"No, it would not," Mappel allowed. "But it is also unwise to ignore the
issue. As Stephen has stated, Sanctum is a puzzle of five pieces. We gain
little if we obtain only four."
"I wouldn't go that far," Stephen said optimistically. "If we manage to
agree on a way to reveal four of the secrets, that in itself is an
accomplishment."
"Small accomplishments will mean little if they do not lead to ultimate
victory," Mappel reminded the youthful interpreter as if to warn him of the
price of failure. "This is not something in which we can accept limited
success. We succeed fully, or we perish."
"Maybe the best thing to do is wait until Ryson returns," Matthew
advised. "He would know the other delvers here in Connel. He would be the best
to approach them."
"That's as good a plan as any," Stephen chimed.
"It delays things," Mappel replied sternly, "But I realize we have little
other choice. For now I would like to hear the details of your visions. I want
to know what you see in both of the alternative outcomes. There might indeed
be something I might sense which will lead us in the right direction."
Stephen crossed his hands in his lap and looked to Mappel with a true
willingness to express his revelations. His voice, however, turned somber and
near hollow despair rung from his words.
"I will tell you everything my mind has seen of both. I hope you can
determine what to do because I can tell you the scene I see if we fail is a
terrible and frightening thing to witness. We will all die slowly, withering
away as the sphere turns our land into a sea of dust."
Chapter 14
Evan Chase, seasoned tracker, walked abruptly into Mayor Consprite's
office. He did not knock and no aide announced his arrival. The door swung
open in total silence, without a click of the latch, without a squeal of the
knob, and without a creak of the hinge. He stepped in like a hunting cat, and
closed the door as quietly as it opened.
His eyes darted around the room but for a moment. In those passing
seconds, he analyzed, interpreted, and judged every item within the confines
of those walls. Nothing within his sight escaped his attention. He was aware
of potential hazards as well as all sharp edged or heavy items which were in
reach of the mayor. He also made spatial observations. He knew how far it was
from the front of Consprite's desk to the door, he noted the paths around
furniture, and he observed that the window was locked.
He moved up to the mayor's desk, stepping so lightly he barely disturbed
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the dust which came beneath the soles of his moccasins. His clothes moved with
him as he stepped. He wore no coat or cloak. Animal hides formed his shirt and
pants. They did not rustle or crease, but instead remained as silent ashis own
steps.
The mayor was aware of Chase's presence, only because he was waiting
impatiently for him, waiting and watching his door. If his attention had been
upon papers on his desk, Chase could have poked him on the forehead before he
even knew the tracker was in the room.
Chase acknowledged the mayor's gaze, but his eyes would not lock upon
Consprite's stare. The tracker shifted his eyes about wearily. He seemed more
concerned with the movement and placement of the mayor's hands than his
expression.
The tracker's own countenance was uncaring and shadowed by his own
indifference toward appearances. His face was shaven roughly. Spots of stubble
remained upon his chin and scattered about his throat - shaving with a hunting
knife no matter how sharp and without a mirror is bound to lead to a less than
perfect job. The shaggy mop of black hair on his head curled about in an
unruly, unkempt mess. It covered both of his ears, including the one which was
missing a huge chunk from a fight with a wolf.
The wolf won that battle, forced Evan to run up a tree. His thigh still
ached when it rained from a savage bite received during that same encounter.
He stayed away from wolves and dogs ever since.
Chase minced no words as he stopped in front of the mayor's desk. "What
do ya want?"
The mayor scratched the tip of his nose before addressing the tracker. He
also decided to be blunt and to the point. "I need someone tracked and
followed. I want to know where he's been over the past two days and I want to
know everything he does after you locate him."
"Who?" The word came quick from the tracker's mouth as if he spit out the
question. It was quiet evident that Evan Chase wasted little time, and knew
too few words to waste any of those.
Consprite grimaced. He did not like being questioned with such bluntness,
but he was well aware of his situation. As mayor, he had little that Chase
wanted, and nothing he needed. He could not threaten the tracker with
ordinances, or the restriction of permits and licenses. Chase probably used
such papers to wipe his nose or light his smokes. The mayor was not dealing
with a merchant, or a homeowner, he was dealing with an uncivilized barbarian
that cared not at all for politics and power. Only gold enticed trackers, and
thus the mayor replied sourly to the blunt question. "Ryson Acumen, he's a
delver."
"I know who he is," Chase spoke as if insulted.
The mayor continued, undaunted by the tracker's lack of grace and tact.
"Good, then you'll know him when you find him. He left here several days ago
to check out the damage to other towns from the quake."
"An old trail," Evan stated quickly, making it clear he considered such a
thing more difficult and expected to be compensated for such.
Such a response was not lost on the mayor. It indicated the tracker was
willing. If not, he would have simply turned and walked out the door, perhaps
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spitting on the floor, or on the mayor himself before leaving.
"I can help you with that to a degree," the mayor responded in fashion
realizing the negotiations for the fee had commenced. "I have reports from him
as to where he went and who he spoke to for the first part of his trip. I
don't need you to look into that. He was in Pinesway less than four days ago.
It's where he went after that I want you to look into. I can also give you [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]