An Alliance of Mortals, page 17
part #6 of The New Earth Chronicles Series
The scryer smiled tentatively in response to the king's obvious good will.
“Thank you very much, your majesty,” he said softly. “I will do my best to help you and your people. I know how important this entire undertaking is, for all of the mortal races.”
“Good, good.”
Shandon looked at Ethmira and winked at her.
“And how is my oldest friend among the elves holding up?” he asked her.
“I am well, my lord,” she replied with a chuckle. “And I am very happy that you agreed to set up the node here in your palace. I know that you are aware of the security risks of such a thing, as we all are.”
“I believe in common sense,” Shandon stated. “And it is simple common sense to create a means of reaching our allies quickly, in the event of an emergency.”
He gestured at Falder.
“Allow me to introduce my seneschal, Falder Oresmith. He manages the day to day affairs of state for the crown. Quite frankly, I couldn't do my job without him.”
“You give me too much credit, my lord,” the seneschal said as he bowed politely to the elves.
They nodded respectfully in return, smiling at the king's comment.
“Now, what do you need?” Shandon asked them. “I've cleared the throne room, as you can see, and sealed the palace for the day. There will be grumbling from the crowds of petitioners who would normally be lined up to discuss their many issues with me, but I didn't want to risk anyone's safety while this anchor of yours is being installed.”
“That is wise, your majesty,” Malfiess told him. “But Callius has already created two of the three pillars with no damage to people or property. The procedure is safe.”
“Forgive me, Councilor,” Callius spoke up timidly. “But his majesty is right to be concerned. We are closer to the world's core in this place and the ley energy is much stronger here. I can feel it pulsing with life beneath our feet in a way that I never have before. That intensity may provoke consequences that I cannot foresee.”
He looked around at the other elves and then at Shandon.
“I would ask that everyone move to the edge of the room, please. Just to be safe,” he told them.
The king nodded.
“Wise head on young shoulders,” he said. “We will do as you ask, Callius. Take as much time as you need to do your work. There is no need to rush this.”
The scryer bowed awkwardly.
“Thank you, your majesty. This will not take very long.”
Shandon gestured for the others to follow him and then led the way across the throne room to the double doors where the guards were stationed.
“Enjoy the show,” he told the warriors with a grin.
The four guards smiled in unison even as they stared in wonder at the elves. Obviously none of them had ever seen any members of the elven race before.
The rangers returned the looks of the dwarves and one of them tapped his chest with a fist in a gesture of respect.
The ranking officer of the guards copied the gesture and then everyone turned to watch the slight figure of Callius where he stood over fifty feet away.
Alone in the center of the hall, the scryer extended his arms in front of him, his palms facing the ground. He bowed his head and his long brown hair fell over his face like a curtain as he concentrated.
The acrid smell of ozone rose again from beneath the floor of the throne room. Several of those observing the scryer coughed at the sharp metallic scent.
“Does this always happen?” Shandon asked Ethmira and Malfiess as he sniffed loudly and grimaced.
“The smell? Always,” Malfiess replied as he watched Callius intently. “It's a natural reaction to the rise of ley energy through the layers of dirt and stone that separate us from the ley lines that wrap around the core of the planet. At least that is what Callius tells us. Since he's the only one who can use that energy, I take his word for it.”
“Yes, he is unique,” the king said as he also stared at the lone figure standing motionless in the center of the room. “Our engineers have tapped into old channels that lead down to those ley lines. We now use them to power our towns and cities, just as we once did in ancient times.”
He looked up at the many lights glowing from the high ceiling of the throne room.
“If it wasn't for that source of power, we would be using torches to see with and cooking over open fires. But the engineers have no idea how our ancestors harnessed the ley energy. They used old schematics and plans to reconnect power cables to converters that have been silent and unused for generations.”
Ethmira looked at him in surprise and then followed his gaze to look at the steady glow of the lights on the ceiling.
“I had no idea that your cities were powered by ley energy,” she told Shandon. “That is amazing.”
“Extraordinary,” Malfiess added. “And yet your people cannot use the ley energy directly, as Callius does?”
“They cannot. Larin and the other mages can feel it, just as your scryer does, but I'm told that is because all dwarves are connected at some level to that primal energy. Using magic makes our mages more sensitive to it, but they cannot tap into it.”
“Something is happening, my lord,” one of the guards told the king nervously.
Everyone looked over at Callius just in time to see him engulfed in eye-searing blue flames. He cried out as the flames roared and twisted around him like a cerulean tornado. Several of the onlookers gasped and Shandon quickly turned to Ethmira.
“Is this what usually happens?” he asked her urgently.
“No, it isn't,” she replied, wide-eyed. “Callius does glow a little while he channels the ley energy. But this? This is something else entirely.”
“Should we help him?” one of the rangers asked her.
“How?” Ethmira replied as she stared at the figure of the scryer twisting in agony at the center of the violent flames. “Touching raw ley energy would be fatal to any of us. We couldn't even get close enough to Callius to try to help him.”
“Callius!” Malfiess shouted suddenly over the roar of the blue firestorm. “Are you all right? What is happening?”
There was no answer, but they saw the blurry outline of the scryer slowly fall to his knees as the energy curled and spun around him like a living thing.
“We have to stop this!” Shandon exclaimed angrily. “It's killing him!”
“We cannot,” Ethmira said helplessly.
Her hands were balled into fists and she shook in impotent anger as she fought off the urge to race to Callius' side.
“All we can do is wait,” Malfiess told the king. “Either Callius survives this or he does not. None of us can intervene.”
They watched in horror as the scryer fell forward, supporting himself with his hands as he was continually pounded by the wild energy. No one could see clearly enough through the storm of power to tell if he was being burned by its furious assault.
“By the Stone, I cannot allow that young elf to die in my own throne room!” Shandon barked, his voice thick with anger. “Not when he came here to aid my people.”
He began to stride forward toward the raging storm of power, but Ethmira quickly caught his arm and stopped him.
“Please don't,” she told him. “I'm sorry, my friend, but you mean too much to your people and your kingdom to risk your life on this.”
Shandon glared up at her and she released his arm. He took a deep breath and turned to look at Callius. Then his furious expression changed to one of resignation.
“Damn it,” he whispered. “I know you're right. But to watch helplessly while...”
He gestured at the cyclone of power and Ethmira nodded.
“I know,” she whispered. “I feel the same way.”
A sudden burst of white light lit up the throne room, instantly followed by a crack of thunder.
As the elves and dwarves looked around in confusion, they saw a group of robed figures standing at the foot of the dais. One of them was holding a crystal staff that sparkled and shimmered with power.
Shandon moved forward a few paces before calling out.
“Larin? What are you doing here?”
“No time to explain, my lord,” the mage replied as he focused on the whirlwind of energy swirling around the fallen scryer.
He gestured at the other mages and all of them hurriedly ran toward the middle of the room, circling around the cone of force while staying far enough away from it to avoid danger.
Larin moved to stand as close to the wild ley energy as he could and then he nodded his head silently.
As one, the mages began chanting in an ancient tongue that none of those listening understood.
“What are they doing?” Malfiess asked the king as he watched the invocation. “Can they counter that much power?”
“I have no idea,” Shandon replied with a helpless shrug. “I know as much as you do. I don't even know how they responded so quickly to this emergency. I can only hope that they can save your young scryer.”
As the mages chanted, a barrier of pale light appeared between them, encircling the storm of ley energy that continued to pummel Callius. The barrier rose above their heads and then bent toward the center of the room until the violent blue cyclone was covered with a dome of light.
As the dome was completed, Larin tapped his staff on the floor. Lines of force shot across the ground beneath the dome, sealing the magical barrier entirely.
“Callius,” the mage called out. “We have cut off the flow of the ley energy. Concentrate now and use what is left to form your anchor.”
There was no answer from the still form, but as everyone watched, they could see that the scryer was struggling to get to his feet.
“You can do this, Callius,” Larin shouted over the roar of the ley storm. “You're strong enough to control it. Use the strength within you. Do it, quickly!”
The young elf managed to stagger to his feet. Everyone standing at the doors watched tensely as Callius slowly stretched out his arms. Ethmira clasped her hands together, seemingly trying to help him by sheer willpower.
“I think it's working,” Malfiess whispered hopefully. “The whirling energy is shrinking and slowing down.”
The others could see that he was correct. The twisting maelstrom was losing momentum and diminishing in size. As it did so, something dark and pointed like a sword began to rise from the ground in front of Callius.
It pushed its way out of the floor, the crackle of splitting rock and marble audible as the sound of the wild ley power died away. It rose higher until it towered above the scryer's head and as it grew, the blue energy died away and finally disappeared.
As the obelisk finished growing, Callius fell to his knees again and Larin banished the dome of light with a wave of his staff. He hurried forward as Shandon, Ethmira and Malfiess ran toward the scryer.
“Callius, are you all right?” Ethmira asked urgently as she reached the kneeling figure.
He looked up at her and smiled and the ranger realized that Callius' hand was resting on the surface of the black pillar.
“I am now, Commander,” he replied, his voice thin with fatigue. “The ley is restoring my strength. I will be fine in a few moments.”
“Are you sure? You looked like you were being attacked by all of that energy.”
“I wasn't being attacked,” Callius corrected her. “I did not expect to summon so much power when I began to create the anchor. It overwhelmed me, but I was not injured, I assure you.”
Shandon looked at him dubiously, but since the scryer appeared to be unharmed, the king took a moment to speak to Larin.
“Well done, my friend,” he told the mage. “But how did you and your fellows manage to sense the young elf's distress and get here so quickly?”
The other mages moved to stand behind Larin as he bowed to the king.
“We were already meeting together, my lord,” he replied. “You told me that the anchor was being raised today and, once I had attended to the summons that called me away from the palace, I thought it prudent to gather my senior mages and wait until this young scryer had finished his work, just in case our help was needed.”
“Did you suspect that something would happen?”
“I thought that the possibility existed,” Larin told the king. “The concentration of ley energy at this depth is much greater than anything Callius would have encountered before. While I did not know if he would realize that fact or not, I thought that it would be wise to be ready if he drew too much power too quickly.”
He glanced down at the scryer with a gentle smile.
“As he obviously did. And while we dwarven mages cannot use the ley energy as he can, we do know how to block it to some degree.”
“Thank the gods for that,” Malfiess exclaimed. “We are grateful to you, sir mage, and to your fellow mages as well. You saved our scryer's life and we owe you a debt.”
“You owe me nothing, sir,” Larin replied with a slight bow. “Callius has succeeded in creating the anchor. That is repayment enough.”
Ethmira put a hand on the young elf's shoulder.
“Are you better now?” she asked softly.
Callius stood up easily and turned around to look at her.
“I am quite well now, Commander,” he assured her.
He looked at Larin and then at the mages gathered silently behind him.
“You knew that I could shape the wild ley energy into an anchor, didn't you?” he said. “Even after I drew too much energy from the ley lines. I doubted my abilities after the power built up and overwhelmed me, but when you blocked the flow, I was able to mold it into this pillar. Thank you all so much.”
“It was our pleasure,” Larin replied. “We felt the surge of ley energy as it rose from the planet's core toward the palace. I have never sensed such a massive blast of power before. You are an extraordinary individual, young elf.”
“He is indeed,” Malfiess agreed. “Now, since you seem to be fully recovered, Callius, perhaps you can explain to the king how the anchor works?”
“Oh yes, of course,” Callius replied quickly. “Um, your majesty, it is quite simple.”
“If you have to use a title when addressing me, 'my lord' will do,” Shandon said with a grin. “I'm not one for formality unless I am performing my official duties.”
“I understand, m...m-y lord,” the scryer stammered. “This is all you need to do. If you or someone else wants to speak with our people or with the humans, simply place your hand on the surface of the pillar. Picture an elf or a human in your mind, anyone will do, and speak. The ley will carry your voice to the appropriate anchor and, if someone is stationed nearby, they will hear you.”
“As simple as that, hmm?” Shandon said dubiously. “All right. And if we need to send someone to one of the other...pillars? How do we do that?”
“That is almost as simple as using the anchor as a communication device, my lord,” Callius told him. “Again, place your hand on the pillar and think of where you want someone to go, either to Caladur or to Nottinghill Castle. A portal will open and allow as many people as you'd like to step through it and appear in the other location. When you want to close the portal, take your hand off of the pillar. That is all there is to it.”
“Remarkable,” the king muttered.
He looked at the obelisk. Its black surface was shiny and covered in tiny blue veins that pulsed gently.
“May I touch it?” he asked Callius.
“Oh yes, my lord. It is quite safe,” the young elf assured him.
Shandon looked at Larin and raised an eyebrow.
The mage chuckled at his dubious expression.
“He is correct, my lord. It is benign now. You are in no danger.”
“Then why do I feel like I'm about to try to stroke a dragon?” Shandon growled.
Everyone watched as he stepped up to the pillar and stared at it with his hands on his hips.
“Well, I cannot expect anyone else to use the damned thing if I am unwilling to do it first,” the king said.
He reached out and put his palm against the smooth surface of the obelisk. The lines of power seemed to converge on his hand and Shandon suddenly smiled broadly.
“Well now, this is pleasant,” he exclaimed. “I feel...invigorated. Amazing. Callius, is this thing able to heal injuries?”
“The humans asked me the same thing, my lord,” the scryer replied. “I wasn't sure then, but after what I just experienced, I would have to say yes. Ley energy is elemental and its essence promotes growth in all things. We are all connected to it and so, when we touch one of the anchors, we are in direct contact with that essence.”
He smiled shyly at Shandon.
“I consider it an unexpected gift from the ley, my lord. It's not what the anchors were designed to do, but it is a byproduct of their connection to the deep ley lines.”
“Then it is a wonderful gift indeed,” Shandon said. “I feel better than I have in weeks.”
He removed his hand from the stone and turned to look at the others. The seneschal had remained quietly in the background, but now the king nodded at him.
“Falder, now that this anchor has been created, bring in the first contingent of guards assigned to protect it. You have their schedule ready?”
“Of course, my lord,” Falder replied. “I will inform the captain of the guards at once.”
“Good. My friends,” he said to the elves, “Would you care to join me for some refreshment? I would be a poor host if I didn't offer you an opportunity to rest and eat and drink something.”
“We would be honored, my lord,” Malfiess replied respectfully. “But there are important matters to attend to back in Caladur. Our Elder, Amelda, is ill and as a member of the Council, I should remain close by just in case any emergency arises.”
“I didn't know that,” Shandon said with obvious concern. “I hope that she will recover quickly.”
“Time will tell, my lord,” Ethmira spoke up. “Amelda is legendary amongst our people, but she is also one of the longest-lived of all of us. We pray that she will regain her strength and sit on the Council again, but we shall have to wait and see. But I agree with Malfiess. We must not be away from Caladur for too long.”
