Stardeep_ The Dungeons - Bruce R. Cordell [74]
As he walked, the unusual quiet cloaking the hall seeped into his awareness. Normally a constant susurrus of bangs, clicks, and whistles bled from the chamber where Cynosure Prime was housed. Not now.
Silence reigned because the idol was asleep, of course. It was pulled back into its original self, alone with its thoughts.
He paused. Now that he thought of it, perhaps it would be prudent to confer with the disconnected construct before he talked with Delphe. He was sure all traces of his interference with the sentient object were hidden, most of all from Cynosure itself, but it wouldn't hurt to check.
He started forward down the curving corridor, but stopped short of his destination at double doors that opened onto Cynosure Prime's chamber. Each was carved with a great white tree bordered in cerulean.
He threw wide the doors and entered.
The chamber was a great vault filled with hulking, dimly glowing rectangular objects. Most protruded from the floor, but some stuck out from the walls and several hung from the ceiling. Ancient magical script glimmered across the face of each shape; the source of each object's glow was this script-born light. Cords extended from each stone shape, some bulky and metallic, others thin, fleshy, and moist. The cords trailed away from the blocks and were gathered in thick bundles, suspended from the high ceiling.
Telarian walked to the center of the chamber, following the fattest cord bundle to its nexus: a great humanoid shape standing in darkness. The cords plunged onto the shape on every side, as if catching the figure in a great web. But it was not caught-quite the opposite. The many connections offered transcendence. For this shape was Cynosure Prime, the artificial entity that served as Stardeep's sleepless warden. Normally, the cords pulsed with light, indicating the distribution of the constructs mind across the citadel. Their dullness revealed the idol's mind was, after centuries, reduced to the single node before him.
Cynosure Prime was the shape the construct had used upon first entering Stardeep, before the incorporation of its mind into the very fabric of the dungeon stronghold. Despite the constructs diminishment, Prime remained an immense humanoid forged of crystal, stone, iron, and more exotic components, now rusted, pitted, streaked, and stained. Standing nearly thirty feet tall, its dimly shining scarlet eyes calmly observed the approaching Keeper. A design was fused onto its metallic chest, unblemished by time-The Cerulean Sign.
Delphe stood at the consttuct's feet.
The diviner caught his breath as she turned and saw him. He smoothed his features-quickly enough, he hoped, to hide his consternation.
She said, "Telatian. Just the man I wanted to see."
"Ah, um… Delphe! You surprised me!"
"My apologies." She continued looking at him, her head cocked to one side.
Telarian's face grew warm. He spoke, "After our talk, this is the last place I expected to find you."
She nodded and said, "I thought more about your arguments. Perhaps you had the right of it."
"My argument?" The diviner's mind swirled, his surprise muddling his ability to concentrate. He resisted the urge to grasp Nis's hilt.
"You argued Cynosure's reconnection was vital. I'm afraid I put you off. But the more time I spend in the Well, the more I realize the task of sole wardenship is beyond me-no spell I erect in my absence can hold a candle to Cynosure's constant surveillance."
"Of course," exclaimed Telarian. In fact, he'd atgued from that point of view, though his hidden goal was to reconnect Cynosure so he could open the Causeway Gate without alerting Delphe. Without Cynosure, revealing the Causeway required a mutual effort from both Keepers. He'd prefer not to answer her pointed questions if he made such a request.
"So," he continued, "shall we reintroduce Cynosure to Stardeep?"
"Fitst," she said, turning her gaze back to the stony