Stardeep_ The Dungeons - Bruce R. Cordell [3]
Thank the stars she yet retained the amulet given her when she'd assumed her duties. It was solid and familiar in her hand. It shone blue and dependable, a bane to creatures born to atrocity. That the last known Amulet of the Sign was given to her and not Telarian caused some friction between the two Keepers a few years back. Thankfully, Stardeep's mortal wardens eventually mended their relationship.
Speaking of her fellow Keeper…
"Any word from Telarian?"
A pause, then, "No, Delphe. Telarian has not yet returned from across the Causeway. Shall I inform you when he returns?"
"No, no, it's just that I haven't talked to…" she stuttered, realizing what she was saying. "Actually, yes, please let me know." She'd just about told the construct she was lonely for not talking to anybody:-anybody living, that is. She talked to Cynosure all the time.
"Of course," replied Cynosure, the very voice of civility.
"It just seems," continued Delphe, trying to hide her false step by talking past it, "he should have returned by now, by my estimation. How long does it take to procure reagents?"
"Telarian indicated the city of Laothkund was his destination, on the coast of Aglarond. A trip of several days each way. I calculate he is not yet overdue."
"Aglarond? Why didn't he fetch his ingredients in Sildeyuir?" At the shifting of every season, Delphe herself traveled down the Causeway into the sunlit Yuirwood, and from there to a nearby road into the star elf realm. Seeing the glittering stars and great glass citadels of her people calmed her and recharged her sense of purpose.
"He claimed the requirements of his latest divinations were straining the capacity of Sildeyuir. He believed the wider world could supply him with the crucial components."
"His projects have kept him very busy lately."
"He is a Keeper."
Delphe shrugged. As if that was a guarantee of anything. In fact, Telarian's overpowering belief in the Cerulean Sign's charter sometimes pushed him along personally dangerous paths. His recent obsession with expanding his divina-tory skills, already exceptional, into the deep future, was a symptom of his fierce dedication. But if he pressed himself too hard, Delphe feared Telarian would burn out his mind. Despite her own specialty in the art of abjuration, she couldn't stop her friend from overreaching.
Her gaze swept the deepest chamber of the Inner Bastion, officially called the Chamber of Surveillance, though Delphe and Telarian always called it the Throat. And what would a Throat be without a Well? Her gaze dropped to the room's nadir.
The Well was a circular shaft, wide enough to swallow two of Cynosure's largest homunculi without difficulty. The Well's reflective sides were impeccably smooth, but dozens of glass slabs protruded from the concave wall, spiraling down from the top, forming a precarious stair. The slabs were enchanted to extend or withdraw into inset sleeves at her or Cynosure's command. Her observation seat was forged of similarly ensor-celled glass so it, too, could extend over the lip of the Well or pull back for a less precarious view, as it suited her.
Sheets of polished iron tiled the chamber's periphery, so smooth they acted as mirrors. Delphe saw herself reflected many times, slightly distorted in a different way in each image. No obvious doorway allowed entrance or egress. Access was controlled by Cynosure, who could open direct paths for Keepers anywhere within Stardeep. Traversing these paths always made Delphe vaguely nauseated, so she called on Cynosure's aid for getting around Stardeep only when absolutely necessary. She preferred taking the long way whenever possible. Unfortunately, no "long way" existed in or out of the Throat. That was one more measure meant to keep the Traitor secure.
She was halfway through her observation shift. Delphe leaned forward once again. The prominences