Delver Magic Book VII: Altered Messages Read online

"Are you jesting?" Desiv shot back. "Do you really believe that the combined guile of six serps would not be an overwhelming force? If the six of us worked in concert, who could stand against us? Even the wizard in Connel would eventually fall to us. Could you make that same claim on your own?"

  "Of course not, but why would I want to challenge a wizard on the other side of the mountains? And even if we conquered more, it would still be split among the six of us."

  "Of course it would, but we would have more than six times the spoils. In fact, I believe our potential is nearly unlimited. If we work apart from each other, we would also be competing against one another... at the very least, duplicating certain schemes. Efforts would be wasted."

  "But I would not have to share my victories."

  Desiv's eyes narrowed as he considered the statement. He chose the five serps carefully, but he began to worry if he had made a mistake about Samk. The dissenter's mistrust was not a surprise, nor was his greed, but Desiv took notice of Samk's seeming insecurity and that trait was very uncharacteristic of a serp.

  "You seek some kind of independent glory?" Desiv asked. "I understand that sharing is a disgusting concept for us, but dividing plunder is a necessary evil. Are you actually concerned with your own reputation? Is that what feeds your reluctance?"

  "I seek what benefits me the most. We all share that desire. You admitted as much yourself."

  "Very well. If you honestly believe you can do better on your own, then by all means leave us now. You can be replaced by another serp who will understand the overwhelming benefits of pooling our talents."

  Samk almost left. He even walked to the door, his tail thumping angrily against the floor as he stomped toward the exit. With his clawed hand on the handle, he paused. He realized if he left and the others agreed to join forces, eliminating him would be one of their first acts as a united council. They would have to silence him. Several serps joined by magic would be a force he would never wish to face. And in that, he finally understood the benefits of Desiv's offer.

  In a display of pure capitulation, he turned about and returned to his chair.

  "Does this mean you accept my proposal?" Desiv asked.

  "It means I will accept what this council decides," Samk snarled.

  "Very well put," Desiv responded, realizing he had almost reached his goal of creating a council of serps. It might not last, but it seemed he had achieved initial formation.

  Desiv then looked around the table at the other serps. He placed the burden of rejection upon the others, made it clear they risked the very same fate Samk undoubtedly decided to avoid.

  "And what say the rest of you? Samk and I are willing to place our futures in the decisions of this council. Are you also ready to accept what this council decides?"

  It was Macheve that spelled out the way forward.

  "Let us begin, as you said, with deciding upon a magic caster. If the six of us can come to an agreement on that issue, then I believe you will have proved your case. If not, we will disband without ill will toward you or anyone else. This shall determine our ability to exist as a council. Agreed?"

  Each serp accepted the proposal.

  #

  Macheve arranged the meeting with the spell caster, for he was not her first choice, but one that ultimately met with her approval. The other serps believed that her initial desire for a different sorcerer made her the appropriate choice to approach the candidate.

  She decided to discuss terms with the magic caster in the common room of a large tavern. Walking through the front entrance, she kept the hood of a cloak over her head, but did nothing else to hide her identity. She had no desire to create a violent confrontation, but she doubted her appearance would raise anything beyond the usual repulsion to her snake-like features.

  The humans would know she was serp, but the vast majority of citizens in Portsans—the coastal city that enjoyed a moderate climate throughout the seasons—wouldn't rise up against her. People of the coast grew accustomed to dark creatures. The sea called to the more intelligent and less violent escapees from the dark realm. While goblins, bloat spiders, shags, and river rogues filled the forests to the east, serps, swallits and rogans roamed the coastline with much less desire to cause death and destruction.

  Their initial appearance certainly caused apprehension to the point of panic, but since the dark creatures that flocked to the coast remained much more restrained in their violent tendencies, they eventually gained grudging acceptance among the human citizens. They were not trusted, but humans had learned to deal with the cunning elements of their own race. If there was profit to be made—and serps and rogans were always ready to work a bargain—then the humans willingly adjusted their tolerance to deal with such creatures.

  Waiting impatiently, Macheve sat at an open table near the very center of the expansive room. Other patrons shunned her, as she knew they would. Very few risked public contact with a serp. Deals with dark creatures were usually made in lonely and shadowed corners, not in the middle of a bustling tavern.

  Eventually, the spell caster entered, and Macheve recognized him on sight. She almost laughed at his untidy appearance, round belly, and long unkempt hair. To her, he looked more like an extremely well fed beggar than a powerful magic caster, but Macheve understood that not all illusions were magical.

  She did not motion to him. She sat silent and unmoving, appearing very much like a snake poised to strike some helpless bird. She kept her hands apart and resting on the top of the table before her.

  The wizard grinned as he spotted the serp. He found the scene amusing. A snake sitting alone in a crowd of humans... waiting for him.

  "I received your message," the magic caster announced boisterously. "I assume it was from you. I was told to meet a serp here."

  The wizard looked about with an animated head turn.

  "Don't see any other serps about, so it must be you."

  "You are Neltus?" Macheve asked, but in a much lower tone and less energetic manner.

  "Shhhh! I don't want people here to know my name." The wizard, however, spoke loud enough for people across the room to hear him clearly. He was amused by the entire spectacle, and he had not a care for what people in the tavern thought of him. "Not when I'm meeting serps."

  Macheve had studied Neltus, and she was not surprised by his juvenile actions.

  "Please sit down."

  "Will you pay for the drinks?"

  "Of course."

  "And the food?"

  "Yes," Macheve replied with a sigh.

  "Excellent," the wizard joyfully proclaimed and threw himself with a lunge into a chair opposite the serp. He called over a server and demanded an immediate ale as well as the most expensive meal available.

  Macheve said little. She listened to Neltus' poor attempts at humor and his inane stories. She was only slightly surprised the wizard failed to immediately demand the reason for the meeting. He was much more interested in enjoying the moment. She knew the wizard was only cautious when he felt threatened. In an open setting such as a tavern, he was jovial to the point of exasperating. She waited patiently as the drink and food was served, and she allowed the interest that Neltus had caused to die down.

  As Neltus shoveled the food into his mouth, the serp eventually cast a minor spell.

  The wizard knew the composition of the spell before she completed the incantation. He allowed it to be cast, but questioned the motives.

  "You haven't been shy about our meeting to this point, so why did you cast a curtain spell around us?"

  "People can still see us, and they think they can hear us, but the words will have no meaning."

  "I know what the spell does. I want to know why you cast it. Why meet in a tavern if you suddenly want secrecy?"

  "What I have to say is meant only for you. You will understand that shortly. But I wish our meeting to be known by many. It is simple subterfuge. When someone whispers, others wish to hear. If you meet in the open, it removes the sense of myst
ery. Curiosity evaporates."

  "And what of my reputation?" Neltus asked with a feigned expression of concern. "Don't you care what meeting a serp might do to my standing in the community?"

  "You have dealt with much worse than a serp."

  "That's true. I don't really mind the company I keep."

  "Shall we come to the point then?" Macheve pressed.

  "Absolutely," Neltus agreed but then shoveled another forkful of food into his mouth.

  "I belong to a council of six serps..."

  "A council?" Neltus interrupted while still chewing. "Of serps?"

  "Yes, we have actually managed to agree on something."

  "I find that hard to believe."

  "You might find it even more difficult when you hear that it is you upon which we have agreed. We know of how you were once joined to Ansas."

  Neltus swallowed. He continued to smile, but it dimmed slightly just as his curiosity grew.

  "Don't make it sound like it's some great secret. I never tried to hide my association with the sorcerer."

  "It's not just your association we know about. We know how you shared slices of pure magic."

  "And how did you find out about that?"

  "We are serp. It is our business to know about important events. It is how we take advantage of certain situations. Ansas gave away the information freely. He himself explained his intentions to over a dozen elves when he hoped to solicit allies."

  "Listening in on that sorcerer was a bit risky."

  "We do not always eavesdrop. We have many ways to learn information."

  "That's right," Neltus agreed through a slight laugh. "You are sneaky little buggers, aren't you?"

  "We have many qualities, but we agree we cannot trust each other. That is where you will be utilized. Just as Ansas shared slices of his pure magic with his own allies, the serps of the council will be joined by slices of a pure magical core... from you."

  Neltus smile remained, but he sat silent for a moment. He looked upon the serp with interest as well as delight. Eventually, he asked what he believed was the crucial question.

  "And do I have something to say in the matter?"

  "Absolutely. Just as Ansas did not force his choice upon those to which he made his offer, we will not force the decision upon you."

  "If you are going to take something from me—it seems my magic in this case—I assume you will offer me something in return?"

  "First, let me state clearly that you will not be part of the council. You will not be considered an equal among us."

  "That's telling me what I don't get."

  "I felt it necessary to be clear on that issue. I didn't want you to misunderstand the offer in any way."

  Neltus wasn't surprised by the assertion. Serps did not think highly of humans, even humans capable of casting crimson energy in a near perfect circle.

  "No misunderstanding here," Neltus replied, " but what is it I do get? What are you going to do for me that will make me willing to give up six slices of my magical core?"

  "You get to be on our side... on the side of the conquering army."

  "That's it?" Neltus asked in both utter surprise and growing amusement.

  "No, but it is the most important. We will offer you a portion of our plunder to keep your passions satisfied. We will also strive not to place you on the field of battle."

  "I'm not quite sure I understand the benefit of all this. I can satisfy my passions quite well on my own, thank you. As to being part of the conquering army but not being placed on the field of battle, that just downright confuses me."

  "It shouldn't. I know much of your past. Others have placed you in uncomfortable situations. Once you were actually put upon the battlefield to fight against Ansas himself. That was before your alliance with him. He let you escape, and you gladly ran."

  "Is that supposed to embarrass me?"

  "No, it is meant to explain the benefits of our offer. I know you're not always afraid of a fight, but I understand your tendencies. You only fight battles you know you can win. When you believe you are outmatched, you immediately run or surrender."

  "You think there's something wrong with that? You must like to lose."

  "No, but I know the reward of victory. The greater the odds against victory, the greater the reward. The one who can reach well beyond her standing is the one who will gain the most. Perhaps you understand that?"

  "I understand that I like sure things. Never gamble what you don't want to lose. I don't like risk. It gives me a headache."

  "That's not true. Never try to lie to a serp. I know what you desire. I can read your whims. You crave power, and that lust will drive you. But you are also motivated by fear."

  "So you think you can scare me into joining you?"

  "Not completely. I realize that threats alone will not work, but they do help. You have joined others in the past because you were afraid. That, you cannot deny."

  "I was afraid of more powerful spell casters. I'm not ashamed of that. But I'm not afraid of a serp."

  "What about a council of serps? You seem to forget what I said earlier. I saw your surprise when I told you that six had come to an agreement. A powerful force is coming together, whether you help us or not. I believe you understand that."

  "I'm not sure I understand any of this. I haven't heard anything that really interests me... or even concerns me."

  "Then listen to this... I acknowledge a serp could never match you in a battle of magic, even six serps combined would lack the raw magical power to overcome you in a battle of spells, but what about a battle of will? You must know how a serp fights . We scheme, we manipulate. We take those with even more power than you and put them to our use. Imagine the armies that six serps could raise. Consider the alliances we could make and the treachery we could unleash. We can turn this land into pure chaos and let loose abominations that would devour entire fortresses. Could your magic stand up against that?"

  "Why would I have to make a stand?" Neltus questioned with an ambivalent shrug, but his tone revealed a growing anxiousness his smug smile could not hide. "I could simply avoid the entire mess."

  "It is much too late for that now. If you wished to avoid us, you should have never come here. You can't simply walk away and expect us to forget about you. You know our intentions. Defy us, and we will remember. "

  The discussion seemed to take a quick turn. It was no longer simply about whether Neltus was willing to join forces with the serps, but rather whether or not he was willing to cross them. The once jovial spell caster finally lost all attempts at humor and the smirk that went with it. He realized the serp wasn't trying to influence him, wasn't trying to twist his thoughts with treacherous mind control. Neltus suddenly understood that he was facing yet another decision of the type he seemed destined to face over and over. He wondered why he always found himself in the middle of such struggles for power.

  "Do I have time to think this over?"

  "No."

  Neltus did begin to feel fear, and he didn't like it. He reached for the answer that appeared to offer the least resistance.

  "Okay. I'll let you use my magic, but I'll hold you to your promise... that you'll keep me out of any battles."

  "Do you know what the promise of a serp is worth?" Macheve snickered. She understood she was baiting the wizard, but she already knew she had Neltus right where she wanted him. She could sense his growing fear.

  "I do," the magic caster replied, and he suddenly regretted eating and drinking so much. His stomach churned, but he held down his meal.

  "And yet you will come with me anyway, won't you?"

  "Yes."

  Chapter 1

  Ryson raced around the outer wall of Burbon with his dog, Stomps. To a degree, they were testing each other, hoping to challenge each other's natural abilities. They varied their pace as they traded the lead. Neither tried to simply outdistance the other, for they did not wish to be separated, but both hoped to keep the contest interesting.
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  The clearing which encircled Ryson's hometown was the perfect racetrack. The ground was dry and free of obstacles. The guard maintained the area, kept the grass low. It was meant to offer clean lines of sight for the archers and tower guards who needed unobstructed views to ensure against goblin raiding parties. With the space near the wall clear and well protected, both dog and delver could run without worrying about crashing into some merchant cart parked on the side of the road or into some shag hiding in tall grass.

  Stomps, a medium sized mutt with a brown coat, ran with glee and seemed to wear a grin of pure joy. He focused completely on Ryson and ignored the guards they passed at the gates or the archers standing watch near the top of the wall. Stomps ran over the short grass with boundless energy and a mind toward Ryson's movements. It was as if he knew exactly the type of game the delver wished to play.

  At times, Stomps would chase the delver with abandon, even flash past in one mad dash. He would then slow and eye his master carefully, allowing the delver to regain the lead. With a quick burst, the dog would then break to the outside and hope to outmaneuver the delver to the next gate.

  For the delver, it was nothing but fun, like a game of tag between young children who played only for the thrill of the chase. Ryson loved the activity almost as much as he loved the dog. He was running free without a care, without any purpose other than enjoying the moment. He wasn't worried about danger or tracking some dark creature. His attention remained completely on interacting with his furry companion... his best friend.

  As they rounded the northeast corner of the wall, the game ended abruptly. Stomps caught the scent first, even before Ryson. The dog came to an immediate halt, stared off to the west, toward the trees of Dark Spruce. He had disregarded other smells, but this one was much too strong to simply ignore. It was the scent of danger.

  Ryson noted his dog's apprehension and moved immediately to Stomp's side. He placed a reassuring hand on the dog's back.

  "You okay, boy?"

  Ryson looked in the direction that Stomps stared, but he noticed nothing out of the ordinary. His keen delver vision cut across the clearing and toward the line of trees that represented the border of Dark Spruce Forest. The grass was clear right to the trees, but he quickly noticed the smell that had caught his dog's attention.