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Travels through the Wild West: Books V-VIII (Epilogue)
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<blockquote data-quote="Lazybones" data-source="post: 713628" data-attributes="member: 143"><p>Book VII, Part 52</p><p></p><p></p><p>Dana rushed down the length of the corridor, yet another long passageway with darkness receding from the light of her torch as she ran. In her haste to catch up with Delem she was heedless of another ambush. </p><p></p><p>Perhaps, deep down, a part of her remained convinced that the young man she remembered would not, could not, bring himself to harm her, despite what Benzan had said. Her head was swimming with all the revelations that had suddenly been dumped onto her, and her blood still pounded with the intensity of combat. There was no denying that Delem had been in league with those demons, that he had tried to kill them. But maybe he, too, had been caught up in the intensity of the confrontation, and if she could just catch up to him, speak to him alone...</p><p></p><p>Distracted by these thoughts, she barely noticed when her light indicated a chamber ahead, and she skidded to a stop right at the threshold that marked the entry to the room. </p><p></p><p>The chamber wasn’t very large, a plain cube about fifteen feet on each side, its walls and ceiling formed of the same solid, undressed blocks that made up the rest of the complex. There were three exits, each leading off in a different direction, but no clues as to which might lead her to her goal. </p><p></p><p>Shaking her head angrily, Dana clutched her spear and warily entered the room. Of course. She should have caught Delem by now, unless he had mastered a magic to enhance his own speed the way her magical boots did hers. But there were other ways for a magic-user to escape detection...</p><p></p><p>She opened her mind to the goddess, without relaxing her attention upon her surroundings. The osiron was just a minor spell, to detect magical auras, but the response she felt was immediate and nearly overwhelming. This whole place was at a conflux of currents of power, and even the very walls seemed to throb with reflections of those flows. She was glad that she hadn’t elected to detect for evil—even without a spell, she could feel the taint that hung over this place like a miasma in the air. Through an effort of will she focused her mind through the distortions, casting out for more immediate auras. </p><p></p><p>There. It was only a faint residue, gone almost before she could identify it, but it had clearly come from the right-most passage. Without hesitation, she hurried in that direction. </p><p></p><p>This new tunnel was much like the others at first, but soon she could sense a noticeable slant downward, and the passage began to curve to the left, bending back in upon itself in a downward spiral. She hastened down for about a hundred paces, two hundred for one not wearing magical boots, before the passage straightened again and opened onto another large chamber. </p><p></p><p>For a moment, she just stood there, overcome by the darkness.</p><p></p><p>For it was dark, the chamber filled with a black radiance that seemed to drink up the light of her torch like a splash of water thrown onto cracked sun-baked clay. But even though the torchlight had been reduced to the radiance of a struggling candle, she could still see, the form of the chamber and its contents revealed as a disorienting negative image of reality, all hard lines and unreal angles. Her eyes were drawn to a freestanding stone archway that dominated the chamber, the stacked blocks forming an inverted “U” that was filled with what looked like a thin sheet of striated black rock. Before the arch there was a small object, a squat form that looked like a truncated pillar or pedestal. In the center of the room there was a summoning circle graven into the rock, and the sight of filled her with a strong feeling of disquiet, reinforced what she knew instantly about this place, even without the aid of a spell. </p><p></p><p>Evil. This place was full of it, awash in it, a taint like oil on a pond, except that in this case the taint suffused the waters of the pond itself, filled the very air she breathed. She felt a tinge of nausea, and for a moment she had to struggle against a powerful urge to turn and flee from this place, screaming. </p><p></p><p>But she remained, and mastered her fear, driven by the need that had tormented her over the last year, by the guilt and the worry and the concern for a friend. </p><p></p><p>“You shouldn’t have come here,” his voice came from out of the dark, a short distance away. </p><p></p><p>The shadows sloughed off him as he ended his spell, revealing him standing there before her. The light of her fading torch just reached his face, revealing skin that was pale and marred by ugly scars. He had been beautiful, once; unspoiled, naïve, if tormented by the legacy of a power that he had not asked for. She had not been attracted to him in the way that he’d wished, but she’d always respected him, by the common bond born of two forced by circumstance out into a world where things didn’t always make sense. But that bond seemed shattered, now, as she was forced to confront the dark reality of what he had become. </p><p></p><p>But she would still not give up, not without fighting. </p><p></p><p>“Whatever’s been done to you, Delem, we can help you. Remember all the things we’ve faced together, the five of us. Join with us again, and we can tear you free of this...”</p><p></p><p>“I am beyond redemption,” he said, interrupting her as he came forward, almost within her reach. For a long moment they stared at each other, her gaze seeking something in the cold pools of the sorcerer’s eyes. </p><p></p><p>“No,” she said, finally. “No. I will not give up, Delem. They’ve done something to you, shackled you, but we will not stop until we have freed your soul.”</p><p></p><p>He came a step forward, so close that she had to crane her head up slightly to look at him. Hadn’t they been about the same height, before? He looked at her, and something flickered in his eyes as he extended a hand toward her face. His fingers brushed against her cheek, in a gesture that seemed tender. </p><p></p><p>“I am sorry, Dana, but it is too late for me. My very touch is death...”</p><p></p><p>She drew back in horror and let out a strangled gasp. She looked up at him, her mouth open to speak, but nothing more than a hiss coming from within. She clutched at her face, where a black splotch was spreading from the point where his fingers had touched her.</p><p></p><p>He watched, his eyes cold, as she staggered back a step, and fell, convulsing, to the cold ground.</p></blockquote><p></p>
[QUOTE="Lazybones, post: 713628, member: 143"] Book VII, Part 52 Dana rushed down the length of the corridor, yet another long passageway with darkness receding from the light of her torch as she ran. In her haste to catch up with Delem she was heedless of another ambush. Perhaps, deep down, a part of her remained convinced that the young man she remembered would not, could not, bring himself to harm her, despite what Benzan had said. Her head was swimming with all the revelations that had suddenly been dumped onto her, and her blood still pounded with the intensity of combat. There was no denying that Delem had been in league with those demons, that he had tried to kill them. But maybe he, too, had been caught up in the intensity of the confrontation, and if she could just catch up to him, speak to him alone... Distracted by these thoughts, she barely noticed when her light indicated a chamber ahead, and she skidded to a stop right at the threshold that marked the entry to the room. The chamber wasn’t very large, a plain cube about fifteen feet on each side, its walls and ceiling formed of the same solid, undressed blocks that made up the rest of the complex. There were three exits, each leading off in a different direction, but no clues as to which might lead her to her goal. Shaking her head angrily, Dana clutched her spear and warily entered the room. Of course. She should have caught Delem by now, unless he had mastered a magic to enhance his own speed the way her magical boots did hers. But there were other ways for a magic-user to escape detection... She opened her mind to the goddess, without relaxing her attention upon her surroundings. The osiron was just a minor spell, to detect magical auras, but the response she felt was immediate and nearly overwhelming. This whole place was at a conflux of currents of power, and even the very walls seemed to throb with reflections of those flows. She was glad that she hadn’t elected to detect for evil—even without a spell, she could feel the taint that hung over this place like a miasma in the air. Through an effort of will she focused her mind through the distortions, casting out for more immediate auras. There. It was only a faint residue, gone almost before she could identify it, but it had clearly come from the right-most passage. Without hesitation, she hurried in that direction. This new tunnel was much like the others at first, but soon she could sense a noticeable slant downward, and the passage began to curve to the left, bending back in upon itself in a downward spiral. She hastened down for about a hundred paces, two hundred for one not wearing magical boots, before the passage straightened again and opened onto another large chamber. For a moment, she just stood there, overcome by the darkness. For it was dark, the chamber filled with a black radiance that seemed to drink up the light of her torch like a splash of water thrown onto cracked sun-baked clay. But even though the torchlight had been reduced to the radiance of a struggling candle, she could still see, the form of the chamber and its contents revealed as a disorienting negative image of reality, all hard lines and unreal angles. Her eyes were drawn to a freestanding stone archway that dominated the chamber, the stacked blocks forming an inverted “U” that was filled with what looked like a thin sheet of striated black rock. Before the arch there was a small object, a squat form that looked like a truncated pillar or pedestal. In the center of the room there was a summoning circle graven into the rock, and the sight of filled her with a strong feeling of disquiet, reinforced what she knew instantly about this place, even without the aid of a spell. Evil. This place was full of it, awash in it, a taint like oil on a pond, except that in this case the taint suffused the waters of the pond itself, filled the very air she breathed. She felt a tinge of nausea, and for a moment she had to struggle against a powerful urge to turn and flee from this place, screaming. But she remained, and mastered her fear, driven by the need that had tormented her over the last year, by the guilt and the worry and the concern for a friend. “You shouldn’t have come here,” his voice came from out of the dark, a short distance away. The shadows sloughed off him as he ended his spell, revealing him standing there before her. The light of her fading torch just reached his face, revealing skin that was pale and marred by ugly scars. He had been beautiful, once; unspoiled, naïve, if tormented by the legacy of a power that he had not asked for. She had not been attracted to him in the way that he’d wished, but she’d always respected him, by the common bond born of two forced by circumstance out into a world where things didn’t always make sense. But that bond seemed shattered, now, as she was forced to confront the dark reality of what he had become. But she would still not give up, not without fighting. “Whatever’s been done to you, Delem, we can help you. Remember all the things we’ve faced together, the five of us. Join with us again, and we can tear you free of this...” “I am beyond redemption,” he said, interrupting her as he came forward, almost within her reach. For a long moment they stared at each other, her gaze seeking something in the cold pools of the sorcerer’s eyes. “No,” she said, finally. “No. I will not give up, Delem. They’ve done something to you, shackled you, but we will not stop until we have freed your soul.” He came a step forward, so close that she had to crane her head up slightly to look at him. Hadn’t they been about the same height, before? He looked at her, and something flickered in his eyes as he extended a hand toward her face. His fingers brushed against her cheek, in a gesture that seemed tender. “I am sorry, Dana, but it is too late for me. My very touch is death...” She drew back in horror and let out a strangled gasp. She looked up at him, her mouth open to speak, but nothing more than a hiss coming from within. She clutched at her face, where a black splotch was spreading from the point where his fingers had touched her. He watched, his eyes cold, as she staggered back a step, and fell, convulsing, to the cold ground. [/QUOTE]
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Travels through the Wild West: Books V-VIII (Epilogue)
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