Jeff Inlo - Chain of Bargains

Ryson knew a great deal of the legends, but he had not yet dealt with a draevol and wished to confirm their threat.

"Death mages?"

"Not death, but plague mages," Holli corrected. "They are demons that cast spells of rot and decay, sickness and disease. Brown is the aura of their magic, not black. There is a great difference. The power of death is not in shadow, but in change. The magic of plague is meant only to weaken and ultimately destroy. Draevols spawn from the depths of the dark lands, but thankfully they are somewhat limited in their ability to crossover from one realm to another."

"That's how they're described in elflore?"

"Yes, and that is also why they utilize inferns. While draevols are pure demons, the inferns are only half demon and half gnome. They have little will of their own but make a formidable army. While draevols cast plagues, inferns utilize fire. They move with speed and have great endurance, almost as much as a cahltof. My question remains as to why would such creatures guard this pass into the Great Valleys?"

"Maybe they've been ordered to by the draevols."

"We have heard nothing of demons by the settlers and their presence would be hard to miss."

"No, but the refugees from the valleys talked about a lot of unsettling things. Draevols and inferns may be just another part of it."

"Still, this pass is inconsequential. It breaks over rough terrain and is used mostly by loggers bringing resources into the Great Valleys."

"Could they be watching for elves possibly coming out of the trees?"

"Believe it or not, there are more dwarves in these hills than elves. Not many elf camps in this region, if any at all."

"Even with all these trees?"

"The dwarves laid claim to these lands long ago with underground cities. They did not relish the idea of elves camping over their heads and made as much known. The elves did not care for the area anyway. Too many human towns at the edges of the valleys, too many loggers entering the forests cutting down the trees. That is why this pass is so wide."

Ryson considered these facts and applied them to the sentries in the distance.

"Maybe that's what they're doing, just watching the pass in hopes of spotting loggers."

"Which returns me to my question of why use inferns for that? Draevols have never been concerned with hoarding treasure. They would only wish to spread plague across the land. As for inferns, they burn and kill. If they were here to set the forest ablaze, I would understand it."

Ryson considered the idea and took another look at the grouping of inferns.

"No, they're not starting any fires. They're just standing there watching the pass, not causing any damage at all."

"For whatever reason, we have to assume they are waiting for something," Holli determined. "Which means, we have to avoid them."

"If you don't want to head northeast, we could…" Quickly turning his head to the north, Ryson stopped in mid-sentence and sniffed the wind. He shook his head as if he smelled some terrible odor. He then lifted his ear to the same direction.

"We have another problem," he alerted the elf in a guarded whisper. "Something's coming at us from the north. The scent is goblin, but it's not right. It's too strong. I can hear them. Sounds like a grouping of six to ten… but it smells like fifty. They're also moving heavy, too heavy for goblins."

Holli sniffed the air. "You are right. The odor is strong. How close are they?"

"Just around this hilltop. We'd both see them easily if we had a path of clear sight."

"How did they get so close?"

"I have no idea," Ryson revealed with confusion of his own. "The scent just appeared, but it's very strong."

Ryson gave Holli a single moment to digest the news, then offered what he saw as the only alternative.

"We have to go south. We can climb the trees, move from branch to branch and…"

Holli cut him off.

"No."

"No?" the surprised delver responded. "We can't get caught here."

Holli scanned every direction and then set her sights to the hills behind them. She already had contingency plans set in her mind, and she chose the one that offered the greatest chance of success given the alternatives.

"We are being directed south, and it is usually a bad idea to take the bait. You know that. Whatever is to the north is disguising their true scent with goblin scent. That means they must know you are a delver or that I am an elf. Why disguise scent for two humans? No, humans would not recognize the smell-they rely too heavily on sight. Whoever is coming at us is moving like this for a reason… to send us in the opposite direction. Heading south is a mistake."

"Then what do we do?"

"We head back west… for now."

"We've got a cahltof back…"

"I know," Holli cut him off, and then quickly issued her directives. "I'm going to take the lead. I want you to travel ten paces behind me. Match my speed." She looked directly into Ryson's eyes to make her next point very clear. "Understand, I want the cahltof to attack me. Trust me and be ready with your sword. Unsheathe it now."

Ryson almost argued, but they were running out of time. Holli asked him to trust her, and so, he would.

The delver pulled the Sword of Decree from its sheath across his back. He looked to the north with the glowing blade in his hand, then he eyed the grouping of inferns. Before considering the power of his sword, he looked to the east where the cahltof waited in the distance. With his attention divided among many concerns, he gripped the handle tightly as if to entice a message from the weapon. The sword would, at times, produce an image in the mind of its holder, revealing not necessarily the full solution to some puzzle, but expose facts and offer guidance.

Ryson hoped for some magical insight, but with so many questions, he lacked focus. He received no further information from the weapon. He shrugged it off. He had learned to live without assistance from the sword, and if the blade failed to offer further enlightenment, so be it.

Just as the delver drew his sword, Holli prepared herself to deal with the cahltof. She concentrated on a single spell that would mix her inherent power over nature with the spell of storm. She pressed her hands together, but only allowed them to touch at the fingertips. A small emerald octagon of magical energy appeared between her palms. The green magic spread across the back of her hands, down her arms and around her entire body. She glowed bright green until she pulled her hands apart, and then, all evidence of the magic faded.

Ryson could not contain an observation.

"With you lighting up green and my sword glowing like a bon fire, I'm guessing anyone and anything near us now knows exactly where we are."

"We will not be here long," the elf replied. "Follow me and be prepared to strike if necessary."

Holli did not wait for an acknowledgment. Just as Ryson trusted her, she would trust in him. She knew he would do as she asked, and she would stake her life upon that confidence.

She raced westward, back along the path they had traveled. She did not alter her course or change her pace at any time. Instead, she ran straight down the middle of the pass with a clear indication of reckless flight. It was an obvious act of desperation that almost any predator would recognize, and it was certainly the kind of frantic dash for escape that would draw out the cahltof.

Holli prepared herself for a long run. The air remained hot and heavy with humidity. Still, it was the kind of element she could adapt to easily as opposed to the scorching dry winds of the Lacobian desert. She focused on breathing in steady time with her movement, and she measured her stride to keep from overexerting herself. The pace matched the full sprint of most humans, but she was an elf.