Joint Intentions (Book 9) (4 page)

With the magic creating a conduit to Dimi's essence, Neltus extended the necessary connection to complete his task. Within the flow of energy, he fashioned a growing red blade to slice the boy's magical core in half. With growing hunger, he thrust the crimson blade into Dimi's magical heart. As he did, the boy screamed.

Dimi felt more than a stabbing pain, he felt a splintering of his very being, as if he was being pulled apart.

"You said it wouldn't hurt!" he screamed.

Neltus did not reply. His fingers dug deep into the boy's shoulders and would not let him pull away. He continued to mold the magic even as he ripped it from Dimi's essence.

Frantically, the boy tried to break free, but he could not resist Neltus' grip or the hold of the magic that pulled at his core. The room began to swirl, and Dimi's knees grew weak.

Neltus struggled to hold Dimi upright as he continued to slice away at the energy in the boy's essence. When it finally split, he attempted to take hold of it. No longer needing Dimi, he allowed the boy to fall to the ground.

The moment Neltus' hands broke free from the lad, the slice of magic he had cut from Dimi began to break apart in his fingers. He tried to shove the shaven core into his own essence, almost as if he was swallowing an entire pie at once. He pressed it into the very center of his being, but it passed right through him.

The remnants of Neltus' spell allowed him to hold the core for a few precious moments, but there was nothing he could do with it. Without a foundation of his own to hold it in place, he could not take permanent possession. At every attempt to stabilize the core within his being, the pulsating mound of magic slipped away. It was like trying to grasp a slimy fish with oiled hands.

As failure became inevitable, Neltus released his hold. The freed section of Dimi's core broke apart into a burst of magical energy and ultimately returned to the boy's center. Dimi's magical foundation was whole once more and Neltus was left empty.

Dimi had crumpled to the floor after Neltus released him. He had lost consciousness during the process and never saw Neltus surrender. After long moments, his eyes fluttered opened and he took one long, deep breath.

For reasons unknown to him, he could feel the magic within him as he had never felt it before. He knew his core remained completely intact, that Neltus had not succeeded in taking even the smallest slice. For some reason, he was greatly relieved.

As he came to his feet, he found Neltus sitting in a chair with his head propped up in his hand.

"You didn't take it," Dimi stated the obvious.

"I couldn't hold it," Neltus admitted.

"What happened?"

"Without a core of my own, I had no way to contain it. I tried. Godson, I tried. But there's nothing within me now. I am completely broken, like a pail with no bottom. I could grab a hundred slices of magic, but I have nothing inside me to hold them."

The boy was even further relieved, as he knew they would not try again. He wouldn't have allowed for it, even if Neltus insisted. He still, however, wished to be paid.

"It's not my fault. I did everything you asked. I shouldn't have to give back your gold."

Neltus leapt to his feet and grabbed Dimi by the collar. His anger and frustration erupted.

"You think I care about gold?! I can replace what I gave you in the blink of an eye. The land and I were once connected in a way you cannot comprehend!" He sneered at the boy as he lowered his voice, but he continued to seethe with rage. "You may cast in red magic, but you have no idea of the power I once had. The land kept no secrets from me. It revealed deposits of gold and silver you can't imagine. Do you think I would forget such a thing? I could be the richest man in the land."

"Then why do you care about the magic?"

"Because wealth is nothing without power! And I had power! More power than you could possibly conceive. What good is it to have all the gold in Uton if someone can take it from you?"

"So I can keep what you gave me?"

The boy still did not realize what Neltus was saying. There was enough magic within Dimi to do whatever he wanted. The lad could have taken everything and walked away. A wizard without a core was powerless to stop him.

Neltus looked at the boy with disgust. He was about to tell Dimi to take the gold and leave, but he realized there was one last path for him to travel, one last chance for him to regain what he had lost. He would take that course of action only as a last resort, but he realized he was out of options.

"You can keep what you have and take the additional amounts I promised... if you fulfill one last request. I may not be able to hold your magic within me, but you can still enchant inanimate objects."

Neltus looked about the room. He found a small book. He then pulled a single coin from one of his pockets and removed a ring from his finger. He placed all three items on a desk which stood against the wall.

"You will pour as much magic as you can into these three objects. You can handle a simple enchantment spell, can't you?"

The boy considered the appeal and confessed confusion over the request.

"I think so, but don't I have to weave a spell of influence as well? The enchantment should allow the holder to do something specific."

"That's only if the holder has no idea how to mold the magic. I have no such limitations. All I need you to do is enchant the items so they store the energy. Leave the spell to me."

"But I don't want to give up my magic anymore," Dimi confessed.

Once more, Neltus lost his patience.

"Idiot! I'm not asking you to give up any of your core. I'm telling you to enchant these items with magical energy. The discharge will be renewed. You're not giving up anything you won't regain over time. Now, if you want to keep any of the gold I have given you, you will do as I say."

Dimi did not have the courage to ask the consequences if he refused. He understood he would not be giving away any of his essence but only utilizing the energy within him for a spell of enchantment. He had cast spells before, discharged energy. Even as his spells failed, he had always regained strength as time passed.

"Alright," the boy yielded, "but my spells aren't very good."

"Just make sure you fill each object. I don't care how much energy you waste."

The boy looked upon the three items, grimaced, and then lifted his arms. A distorted loop of red energy appeared at his wrists. The misshapen mass of magic was both laughable and pathetic. It held no true shape, nothing close to the circle which once symbolized Neltus' abilities.

Neltus shook his head as he watched large flows of magic wasted in the inefficient spell. Fortunately, there was enough magic within the boy to fill the objects despite the loss of energy.

When Dimi finally finished, he was essentially empty of magic. He would eventually recover what he had lost, but it would take a substantial amount of time. He was, at that moment, as powerless in magic as Neltus.

With the boy magically exhausted, Neltus could have overpowered Dimi and retrieved any payment he had already offered the boy, and he certainly couldn't be forced to pay what he promised. Neltus, however, fulfilled his portion of the bargain; not out of honor but from a desire to keep his options with the boy open.

"Here," Neltus grumbled, as he threw the half-filled sack of gold and the second diamond at Dimi. "You really didn't earn it all, but I said I would pay you. Remember that. In fact, I think you still owe me."

Neltus picked up the ring first and inspected it carefully. Despite the fact he had lost his magical essence, he would always recall what it was like to feel the energy surging through his being. He could feel it again in the ring.

He then picked up the coin. It held roughly the same amount of magic. The simple piece of silver would contain the power until he willed it free and shaped it for a spell that would be necessary to take him to a place he did not wish to go.

He placed the ring on his finger, put the coin in his pocket, and finally picked up the book and leafed through the pages. The book held the greatest amount of magic among the three objects, and it would serve as the key to open a very dangerous door. It was a door Neltus would have rather kept shut, but if he wanted his magic back, he would need to seek a creature who had also lost his magic but found a way to retrieve it.

After Neltus sent Dimi on his way, he saw no reason to delay his decision. It was time to take a course of action formed of sheer desperation and to hastily head for a harbor of last resort. Cowardly in many ways and yet bold in others, he allowed his selfish desires to prod him forward. Struggling against his inherent weaknesses and his craven instincts, he buried his fears. He did not wish to face the creature he knew waited beyond the curtain of reality, but he could not deny the monster's connection to his own dilemma.

He took the coin from his pocket, placed it in his palm. With his free hand, he fingered the warm metal. He could feel the current of crimson magic rotating within the edges of the silver chip. The enchantment was exceedingly plain. No spell, no direction or influence, waited within the energy. It was there simply to be used for whatever purpose the spell caster saw fit.

The thought of casting another spell pleased him beyond measure, but he couldn't allow eagerness to override diligence. If he simply pulled the energy from the coin, it would break free from his grasp. As he had already learned, the lack of a core would keep him from absorbing it in any fashion or storing it for even the briefest of moments. To utilize the energy, he had to shape the spell in his mind before he unleashed the enchantment.

The incantation would be far more intricate than a basic portal and more powerful than fundamental teleportation. He needed to reach through certain boundaries and into the edges of another realm. The complexity of the destination required him to consider commitments of his own past.

Neltus called on memories of a time he once held not only his own crimson core but also a slice of ebony magic. The powerful spell caster Ansas had honored Neltus with a portion of the sorcerer's purity. Ansas had hoped to mold others in the shape of his own arrogance, and the indelible links of energy burned certain incantations into Neltus' recollection.

Together, he and Ansas had created a grand spire that rose from the bleak grounds of the dark lands and stretched to the very limits of that realm. The top of the spire, a flat plateau with a frightening precipice, waited at the borders between physical existence and an emptiness which extended beyond both life and death.

In order to achieve his goal, Neltus needed to reach that plateau. The magic within the coin would easily allow him to create a portal into the dark realm, but he required more than a simple rift between dimensions. Arriving upon the tower's peak required transcending through the boundaries of existence and reaching the very edge of physical limitations.

As he continued to probe the magic within the coin, he feared it would be insufficient to bring him to the top of the rock tower. He considered pulling additional energy from the book or his ring, but he couldn't risk it. The magic within the book would allow him to make the necessary contact once he reached his destination. If he survived the encounter, the power within the ring would return him home.

As he mulled over the spell, he attempted to create a crisp connection between the incantation and the magic. He knew he had to be as efficient with the energy as possible. If he miscalculated, he would most likely face dire consequences.

He recalled the height of the tower. An insufficient attempt would mean entering the dark realm high above the bleak lands but short of the extended plateau. If so, he doubted he would be able to save himself from the fatal plummet which would result from such a failure.

Such a fate, however, would be far better than if he overshot his destination and ended up swimming through the void of nothingness beyond the dark lands. Even his enchanted items would be useless within the emptiness. His consciousness would remain trapped as his physical properties slowly collapsed. He would be rendered into nothing more than the echo of a painful scream, and his consciousness would remain tortured in that wretched state forever.

The risk was indeed great, but he could no longer live as an empty vessel. Regaining sway over magic by recovering his core was all that mattered. If he fell, if he became a tormented whisper lost in emptiness, it was no worse than his current condition.

He lifted the coin up high as he whispered a spell based on intuition and memory. Deep within his mind, he seized the solid grounds of two dimensions. He willed them together, connected the two separate existences with a rift which would act as a narrow tunnel through the combined grounds. The portal would also serve as a rushing force, like a landslide that would propel his body to the heights of the dark land and to the very limits of that realm.

Finally ready to enable the spell, Neltus pulled at the magic in the coin. He struggled greatly to maintain control of the energy. He had been so used to shaping magic from  within his core that he almost lost hold of the power which refused to remain stable within his essence.

Fueled by desperation, he let his spell take command. He endured the strange sensation, almost like allowing someone else to breathe for him, and he made no attempt to take personal hold of the energy. He strung the magic through the loops of his spell and allowed the incantation already shaped in his mind to complete the actual work. The spell quickly forced the portal into existence.

Without stopping to further consider the consequences of his decision, Neltus enabled the incantation to carry out its directive. He allowed the force of the spell to get behind him, to cradle him, and then thrust him through the portal.

Instantly, he found himself rising through the thick hot winds of the dark lands. He faced the heavens, and he saw stars twinkling in a black sky. The spots of light offered small beacons of comfort, but any reassurance was quickly dashed as a hook hawk broke across his upward path and reminded him of the dangers he faced.

As the force of the spell continued to propel him through the humid and stench-filled air, Neltus wondered if the winged creature would alter its course in an attempt to intercept. He looked back over his shoulder and could not ignore the dreary landscape of the dark realm. Pools of fire blazed throughout the gray valley beneath him, and the silhouette of the hook hawk appeared like the twisted shadow of a bent and corrupt hand soaring through pockets of glowing amber.

The large bird veered back and forth like an unbalanced pendulum swinging in a brisk wind. Its unnatural form and twisted feathers forced the bird into bizarre flight patterns, but it used such deviations to its advantage. It had spotted the human soaring through the sky, and though it could not contemplate how such a phenomenon was possible, such considerations were irrelevant to its basic desires. It viewed the intruder as a possible meal, nothing more.

Neltus watched with growing apprehension as the winged beast utilized its awkward  movements to circle back and follow his own upward trajectory. He believed the creature attempted to gain both speed and altitude at the same time, a difficult prospect under normal conditions, but the creature appeared to find the proper currents within the heavy winds. Even as he continued to rise through the air, Neltus realized the hook hawk quickly erased the distance between them.

Neltus wondered if being snatched up in the claws of the monster would be as painful as he imagined. He also wondered if it would be worse than his spell faltering and his body falling to the jagged rocks far below. He was still hurtling through the air, and the gray lands beneath him looked like broken teeth ready to chew him into pieces if he ended up descending into their midst.

Turning his head back to the stars, he finally saw the rock tower ahead of him. Due to its immeasurable height, it stood out from the surrounding grounds like a single gray reed growing up into the black sky. Nothing upon the horizon could come close to matching its size. It stood alone, like the only acceptable alter to an angry and malignant presence which demanded absolute homage.

As such, it did not offer any great comfort for the man who was hurtling past the gray clouds of the dark realm and directly toward it. The upper platform might have been his intended target, but he held no preconceptions of sanctuary at the top of that lonely spire.

The circular plateau had become a platform of transition in its own right. The spire was more than a rock tower. It signified a decision to reach into an emptiness that was better left alone, an emptiness ruled by a beast of incomplete substance. It was a bridge to a monster not known for compassion or even tolerance.

As the plateau drew near, Neltus gave one last look to the trailing hook hawk. The winged creature reached the zenith of its flight. It sensed the upper limits of the dark region, and it felt the waiting chasm of nothingness beyond the realm's borders. The monster would not risk its existence, even for such a tempting meal. It veered away from Neltus and back toward the gray valley below, hoping to find easier prey.

Neltus' eyes grew wide as he closed upon the top ledge of the spire. He no longer worried about overshooting his mark. He could feel the power behind the spell weakening, and his velocity began to diminish. He would not sail beyond the precipice, but he wondered if he would reach the top of the spire or slam into the rugged cliff face which supported the plateau.

As his speed continued to dwindle, he tried to urge his rather rotund body higher than the waiting ledge. Unfortunately, there was no magic within him to amplify the spell, and he could not replenish a nonexistent core with the twisted energy that flowed throughout the dark lands.

Instinctively, he pulled his legs up into his chest. Not an athletic individual by any stretch of the imagination, he struggled with the simple maneuver. Before reaching the ledge, he rolled up into a ball with his knees tucked near his chin. He closed his eyes as he believed his body would smash into the side of the cliff face. He hoped the impact would render him unconscious. He did not need to stay awake for what he believed would be an inevitable and long plummet to a grisly end.

Luckily, his hip made first contact with the wall of rock, and rather than bounce backward, he had enough forward momentum that his body rolled up and over the top of the precipice. He came to a halt a mere two paces from the plateau's ledge.

Exhaling deeply, he sprawled out on his back, stretching his arms and legs out from his large body. A stabbing pain made it clear he had not died. His hip ached, but he had reached the top of the spire without further injury.

Neltus slowly rose to his feet. He didn't bother to wipe the gray dust from his clothes. Instead, he took one small step, with a bit of a limp, to the ledge of the spire. From that dazzling height, he peered out over the dark realm.

The land remained as he remembered it, dreary and depressing, a fitting home for the dark creatures which occupied it. It was an existence he never wished to visit. He had spent time there because of Ansas' desires, not his own. He preferred a lively tavern, with plenty to eat and drink.

For a brief moment, he imagined himself lounging at an inn, drinking heavily and eating even more. As the pleasant thoughts of comfort and excess brought a warmth to his body, he sensed a throbbing from the ring on his finger. It had the power to return him to Uton. Leaving the spire would require a far simpler spell. But the magic which tugged at his finger was no longer within him, and that hollow sensation urged him onward. He would return to a tavern only when that emptiness was filled with crimson power.

Despite his strong desires, he considered the inherent risks of his plan. The tower ridge held its own dangers, hazards beyond plummeting to the rocks below. The plateau might have been his destination, but it was not his ultimate objective. It served as a staircase upon which he still needed to take one last step.

As he considered his options, he realized leaping over the ledge remained a very possible alternative to the scheme in which he had placed his hopes. Not having any idea how his intended encounter would ultimately unfold, he would retain a quick leap and long, soul-wrenching fall as a contingency plan.

He then looked to the nothingness above the plateau. He could almost feel the emptiness, but it was not complete. A window had opened in the heavens, a gap for a view of stars which somehow defied the void. The twinkling points of brilliance appeared as an aberration, a direct contradiction to the desolation of the dark realm.

That window had been created and opened by Ryson Acumen, and memories of the delver forced Neltus to consider his choices. The stars he shouldn't have been able to see offered him a glimpse at possible liberation, a chance for comfort in a realm of misery.

He could not deny his own connection to the delver, but it was not one which brought him solace. It only reminded him of the energy which was absent from his essence. Neltus believed his only hope for redemption resided not in the points of light but in the waiting void.

Neltus moved to the center of the platform. Moving ahead with his idea, he opened the enchanted book, but read nothing. The writing was irrelevant. It was the magic he needed, and once more, he would have to be quite careful in his casting.

He had seen the shadow portal before, and his previous connection to Ansas gave him greater appreciation for the realm he needed to contact. It was Ansas' thirst for black energy which inspired him to build the spire, and it was the sorcerer's obsession for purity which ultimately created a bridge into a new realm, a region of nonexistence.

That link allowed an exiled ghoul to extend his reach back into the dark lands. Ansas had taken magic from a region of nothingness, mistakenly believing it was pure ebony power. Instead, it was energy which belonged to the slink ghoul Baannat, and it was Baannat whom Neltus would call upon.