Stardeep_ The Dungeons - Bruce R. Cordell [5]
"Thank the stars! When you didn't answer I wondered…"
"Again, I ask your pardon. But take heart-the ruse just attempted by the Traitor is now known to me. I have journaled the elements of this strategy and will recognize its tell-tales going forward."
"You had the situation in hand, then?"
"Yes, but your response was also required. Your ward kept the Traitor's attention the vital few moments necessary for me to finish my abjurative task."
Delphe chose to believe the construct.
After all, Cynosure was old. Who wouldn't expect a few hiccups after a few thousand years of constant awareness?
But, on second thought… hiccups in the mind of the warden idol could lead to disaster.
She probed further. "Cynosure, you did finally reply to my query-after the threat was past. Your response appeared out of sync with events."
The voice paused a heartbeat, then, "True. You noticed a side effect of my total concentration. You know that my 'mind,' such as it is, is widely distributed around Stardeep. The concentration of all my faculties in the Well led to some disarray in the weave that holds 'me' together. But I assure you my consciousness is functioning at peak performance."
"You would tell me if you noticed a change in yourself? I mean, you would warn me if you suspected your ability to watch over the dungeon and the Well were in any way compromised, correct?"
"You would be first to know if any of those parameters were even close to being met. They are not. Do not worry yourself over this, Delphe."
Delphe frowned, looking at her amulet.
The field around the tree remained coal black. The blue faded whenever the Traitor stirred, but she had quelled his latest activity.
Why, then, did it remain dark?
CHAPTER TWO
Stardeep, Epoch Chamber
Telarian saw what protruded from the thunderhead's belly. It was not alive-not quite. A glyph-scribed obelisk wrapped in eternal storm soared above the world. A writhing frieze was carved on the age-worn exterior depicting thousands of interconnected pictures. The inscriptions constantly shifted and changed, as if unseen carvers swarmed across the stone face, engraving atrocities to the beat of a mad drummer. The full meaning of the evolving image invoked a concept too ghastly for a mortal mind to comprehend and remain sane. Telarian jerked his gaze away, but felt understanding bridge the gap anyway.
Slime-crusted creatures crept within the obelisk's hollow interior. The vast object was inhabited, a primeval city regurgitated into the world that had forgotten its existence.
A squalid miasma altered reality in its vicinity, unfettering vast creatures of the deeps, giving them mastery of the sky as they before hunted the sunless seas. Tentacles slithered and crawled in cold rookeries encrusting the vast object's sheer sides.
But these were mere servitors, children compared to the sinful, gelatinous carapaces of those creatures within. Their minds churned with philosophies inimical to all beasts not part of their ancient Sovereignty. They waited for the call of mortal priests who perverted their souls and hollowed their minds to serve abominations.
Roused from the drowned depths, the fabled city was fable no more.
Telarian screamed and opened his eyes.
He lay on the floor in the center of a divinatory circle. The circle's periphery was decorated with skulls, hourglasses, butterfly wings, and unidentifiable sigils. A twelve-pointed star was insciibed inside the curved pattern. Smudgy lines of burning incense rose from each of the twelve corners…
… which meant the circle hadn't been broken. Telarian wished he could sigh in relief; instead, he wanted to scream again. If the pattern had been breached, he might have been able to convince himself he'd experienced a false foretelling. But his view into the far future, as chancy and unreliable as such arts were, remained