“Thus you are as in the dark as we are,” Tristan murmured. “Why continue the policy of annihilation?”
We seek to return to the spaces between.
“And you may do so only when Gabryl releases you, and he needs your …skills.”
Yes. We need to survive this and return. Our source needs to understand how we have been used in order to insert safeguards against this happening in the future.
“Then we’re screwed,” Alusin said.
No, Kemir. Use your abilities. Create a passage here in the dark of night and escape. When you are gone, we may leave. Gabryl will no longer have a hold on us.
“How do I create a passage?”
You are Kemir. You know.
After giving Alusin an intense look, Tristan said, “Tell me. Had we not earlier paused long enough to attempt communication, would you have revealed any of this?”
We have been hoping for someone with courage enough to confront us. We have desired to reveal this since the moment the first man on this world lost his essence. We understood in that moment that this manipulation is true evil.
“You could have refused,” Alusin whispered.
We cannot. The mind is one and we are not in a state of one here. We are splintered and therefore have no power of refusal. I am aware this creates confusion for those who are individual on this plane, and yet it is how we are.
“But you must answer a direct question,” Tristan understood.
Indeed. And your answer lies before you. Passage. Night. Disappear.
“Gabryl states it will hurt.”
For you, far more than the simple touch, but only in creating the passage. Once this barrier is open, pain is ended. For him? No pain in touch, but agony in holding it open. Kemir require closed circles.
“What?” Alusin blurted. “Horse shit!”
“Calm,” Tristan snapped. “What is your name, daetal?”
We have no names. We must finish. The ability to speak fades.
“The quicksilver …”
Altered. Time’s breath has …
The communication severed there. Both Tristan and the daetal stared at the line of mercury with distaste, although from the daetal distaste was a feeling in the ether rather than a physical expression. Clearly they were reluctant to touch once more in order to further the discussion.
Tristan gave a rueful chuckle. “We have enough to build with and we are aware of the ancient breath nuance, if not the how of it yet. Our thanks.” He bowed with a hand over his heart.
The daetal’s tentacles retreated into the sphere. It spun in place, and then shifted to the garden’s perimeter.
Tristan crossed his arms. “You need to talk to me about your past. Today.”
Those dark blue eyes darkened further. “You’re not going to like it.”
Chapter 15
Magic should not be contained within objects
~ Quilla of the Q’lin’la ~
The Dome
“WE HAVE PULLED it apart, Belun. We need to hear from Shedo and Gal before we go further.”
This came from Chaim, pacing the lower section of the great marble slab. All were at conference around it, with books, scrolls, paper and ink to hand.
The old man lifted a finger in the air. “One, we need to mount a rescue operation on Petunya and, two …” Another finger popped up. “… we need to go to Eurue regarding the quicksilver solution. Petunya is more important, and Shedo and Gal may have the answers when they return from Eurue, thereby obviating the need to visit that world.”
It was a truth that they had reached a point of stagnation. The information they sought simply was not available via usual means.
Belun sighed. “We’re calling it Eurue again?”
Jimini jabbed at the printed image they had brought from Titania. “This is not a world recovered. This is world never destroyed. This is Eurue.”
The Centuar nodded and knuckled his jaw. “We give Shedo and Gal four more hours. If they haven’t returned by then, I suggest we go in there first to back them up.”
Fuma placed his lean arms upon the slab, his skin in dark contrast to the white marble. “Do you think something is wrong there?”
Belun prodded his massive chin ever harder. “Sense only. Something is off with everything right now.”
Kila leaned back in her seat and closed her eyes. “I agree with Belun. Shedo and Gal may need us first.”
The Centuar sent her the briefest of glances, before frowning at the surface strewn with notes before him. “Yet we cannot leave our brothers on Petunya without eyes.”
“I’ll go,” Jimini said. “I can shift into the daetal shape and keep watch that way.”
“They’ll know,” Jonas gasped. “Too dangerous.”
“I am the best option, you know this. Belun?”
“I will go too,” Kila stated. When the others were about to remonstrate, she held a hand up. “Talismans, right? My forte? I know of one that can hide both of us.” She gestured between Jimini and herself. “It will make us both look like daetal and mask us.”
Chaim murmured, “I agree.”
Belun reluctantly nodded. “Fine. Where is this talisman?”
Kila gave a grin. “I prefer not to say. Jimini and I will be doing some breaking and entering. Best leave the criminal activities of the Kaval under wraps, hmm?”
Jimini snorted laughter. “I’m in!”
Chaim chuckled. “Sounds like a plan.” As a dealer in information, with cells throughout the universe, he knew the underworld and nothing therefore surprised him.
Shaking his great head, Belun muttered something foul under his breath and then said, “Can you do it now and be back before the four hours are done with? If Shedo and Gal are back, we are all going in to Petunya.”
“Yes.” Kila stood, and so did Jimini. “Follow me to Shanghai Metrop …”
“It’s on Xen?” Belun thundered. “We cannot steal from Xen!”
Kila placed her hands on her hips and glowered at the Centuar. “We need gear, Belun, which we will find in Shanghai Metrop’s massive outdoor warehouse. The talisman isn’t on Xen III, my word on it.”
He deflated, but now scowled right back at her. “I don’t need specifics, but which world? Just in case I need to bloody deny something to someone sometime.”
She smiled sweetly. “Beacon.”
Fuma laughed. “Best place to hide a thing of magic is with people who are not magic users.”
“No one minds putting Beacon’s nose out of whack anyway,” Amunti added.
“Relations with Beacon are the best they’ve been since Torrullin killed Bannerman. We are not making waves there.” Belun’s hard stare swept around the table.
Kila sighed. “No one will know. It’s a quick in and out, and then Jimini and I will be back. All right?”
The Centuar simply waved a hand, for he dared not speak. He wanted to shout at Kila for being so foolhardy, so bold, so … bright …
Assint and Mahler grinned at each other. Kila winked at them, and she and Jimini headed to their ogives.
Two pinged moments later.
Beacon
AFTER A SWIFT visit to Xen’s warehouse for city camouflage clothes and a few speciality items, the two women transported to a grassy bank. A spectacular bridge spanned the grass, although no water flowed beneath it in the present age. The Kaval had realised decades ago, for incognito dealings on Beacon, this place of arrival hid them well.
It was a Valleur construct and a point on the universal net. It was also believed haunted and few Beaconites were ever in the vicinity.
“We’re headed to the Antiquities Museum behind the library,” Kila murmured, carefully studying their surroundings. Fortunately it was currently night on Beacon.
“I’m assuming alarms and such.”
Kila wiggled the tog bag she held. “Therefore these.”
Laughing, Jimini gestured. “Lead the way.”
AS A CITY world, Beacon built on a massive s
cale. The museum was an older building, but ginormous. Huge arched windows threw light into already well-lit streets, for every bloody globe and strobe was on inside the museum.
“Well, damn,” Kila muttered.
“It’s open,” Jimini pointed out. “I suggest normal city clothes and a casual wander through the displays.”
“Agreed.”
In the shadow of a doorway they thus divested themselves of their camouflage. Under that both wore bright tunics over dark pants. They had been to Beacon before and knew well the preferred casual fashion of the present. Clunky boots finished off the look. While those were in fashion and they did not therefore appear odd, truth was boots would serve them better when it came to running. If they needed to run.
The two women grinned at each other.
“Piece of pie,” Jimini laughed.
Kila led the way.
They entered ostensibly chatting and casually moved amid others perusing the displays. Many artefacts were on offer, from Beacon’s past to other world curiosities.
“There’s a cabinet with a bunch of unclassified objects,” Kila said as they moved deeper in. “It’s unusual to display something without its validated history, but apparently archaeologists here are stumped and have put them out, hoping someone will reveal origin. There’s a computer next to it for folk to offer insights.”
“I guess they get a lot of bull entered then,” Jimini chortled. “How come you know of it?”
“Talismans have signatures and I sense those when in the vicinity of one. Not signature as in its creator, but the talent inherent. There are, in fact, six on these premises. I discovered them on a previous visit.”
“You have clearly spent much time in museums.”
“Indeed. Museums are where they keep the good stuff, but the best is ever in vaults below.” She grinned. “Luckily we don’t need to break into one of those.”
They halted at a coin display when a security guard wandered ever nearer.
Pointing and appearing suitably impressed with the coins, Kila murmured, “I once went to Pendulim and, boy, it nearly drove me insane. The Shadof there are flame-wrights and create what they call …”
“Life-wheels, I know. Torrullin once lectured us about those. He had one made to ward human souls on Valaris against the Darak Or’s soul-snatching campaign.”
Kila nodded. “Then you know that every darn Shadof wears a bloody wheel and each confers a talent, and I heard every whisper wherever I went.” She shook her head. “Pendulim is not a place I will visit again in a hurry.”
Smiling, Jimini gestured. The guard had moved on.
The display for unclassified items, when they came upon it, was vast. One entire wall supported enclosed glass shelves, and every shelf was filled. Earthen vessels competed with solid gold figurines; bright brooches of both precious and semi-precious stones showed up rusted rings; coins vied with decorative boxes, and much more. It was a treasure trove, in value and in the tales each could tell.
“Second shelf from top, near the post there on the left,” Kila said without looking in the direction she mentioned. Casually bending to various items, she added, “It’s a fern frond brooch, beryl in copper.”
Jimini allowed her gaze to roam. “I see it. How in the netherworld are we going to steal that?”
“Hush. Look for the appropriate lock.”
Jimini looked. “There are no lock and key devices here. Technology protects this, Kila.”
“Excellent.”
Lifting an eyebrow, Jimini bent to a small silver cat with golden eyes. “Meaning?”
“Meaning I picked up a gizmo on Xen that scrambles tech signals. It’s much easier to break in with than using a lock pick is, believe me.”
“You need a distraction.”
Kila laughed under her breath. “I do.”
“Lovely,” Jimini muttered. “Fine. Just be quick about it.”
The shapeshifter swung away and moved to the central area where low display cases hosted various jewellery items. As she walked, she trailed fine powder from her fist, leaving floating grey dust in her wake. She did not glance back, knowing Kila would move into position. Nearing a display filled with ancient crowns from various civilisations, she snapped her fingers.
The dust ignited in a whoosh of both sound and blue flame.
Screams followed satisfyingly quickly.
Jimini screamed too, and guards from all over hurtled towards the fracas. People began stampeding for the exit, screeching and beating at non-existent flames about their bodies.
The mind, such a strange creature, she mused in private amusement.
“Evacuate!” a guard shouted.
The stampede became an all-out rout.
Jimini ran as well.
On the steps outside, Kila soon joined her, sporting a triumphant grin. “Got it. Let’s go.”
Eurue
SAVIER MARCHED through the village, ignoring everyone. A few greetings came his way, along with questions about the strangers, but he did not respond. The villagers were all white-haired; no doubt Shenendo’s floppy black hair and Galarth’s sandy crop caused ripples.
The path beyond the last of the cottages meandered onward beneath ancient trees. Birdsong accompanied every step.
“Where are we going?” Galarth called out.
Savier ignored that as well.
“We should get the hell out of here,” Shenendo murmured. “Bring the Kaval in.”
“I would not do that,” Savier called out without breaking his stride. “You need to meet someone first. You are in no danger, I promise.”
Galarth shrugged and went on walking. Grimacing, Shenendo followed as well.
Eventually he led them to a low stone building almost covered in forest vine. From a pouch at his waist he withdrew a key ring from which a single key hung, large, ornate and obviously old. He inserted it into an ancient lock in the low but stout wooden door barring their path. Grunting, he twisted and the door creaked open.
“Close it behind you. Watch your step; there are stairs directly within.”
Savier vanished inside, and the two Kaval men, intrigued, followed, to find the stairs began immediately, leading into darkness below. The unwary would summarily tumble into the bowels of the earth, no doubt to break a neck.
As Shenendo closed the door a faint glow emanated from the steep descent. The two men glanced at each other, and set foot to the roughly hewn steps.
Savier vanished around a curve. “Watch your heads.”
Galarth ducked just in time. The low beam was low indeed. Shenendo cursed in his wake, having nearly knocked himself unconscious.
The stairs petered out in an oval chamber. Savier snapped his fingers and rush torches at intervals along the curved walls burst into smokeless flame.
In the centre of the earthen space there reposed a sarcophagus. Black as a moonless night, the vessel exuded ancient cold. Runes marked every available surface, but the runes were unknown to the Kaval present.
“Who is interred here?” Shenendo whispered, feeling as if he stood in the presence of royalty.
“He has many names,” Savier murmured, not looking at them, staring instead at the casket.
“Has? He’s dead,” Galarth retorted.
“He lives.” The Kemir glanced up. “He is dead also.”
“Oh,” Shenendo breathed out, “this is …”
“Do not speak his name, whatever it is in this time, or you summon him.”
The skin on Shenendo’s face pulled tight, and he stepped away.
Galarth glanced at him. “The one we discussed in the Dome?”
“I think so,” Shenendo whispered.
“How?” Galarth glared at Savier. “And how the fuck do you know about our mission?”
The Kemir trailed long fingers over the runes nearest him. “He is the reason Eurue survives despite all. For you to suddenly appear after thousands of years means he meddles with the status quo once more. Until now he has been quiescen
t and I suspect that was because of Torrullin Valla. Not even he desired to confront that man. Elixir no longer inhabits our spaces, however, and he took Elianas away as well, thereby opening doors long sealed shut.”
“We pop up and you instantly make the connection?” Galarth shook his head. “Something else is at work here.”
Savier offered a cold smile. “A century ago my brother vanished completely. Alusin frequently went on long expeditions, staying away for years, but we knew where he was or at least felt his life force, but then he disappeared. That was the day he entered your Dome. He switched his allegiance that day. He turned his back on this man …” He tapped the sarcophagus. “… and swore loyalty to another. I assume to the one he dreamed about.”
Galarth and Shenendo glanced at each other again. Neither said a word.
“For years I thought Alusin dreamed of Torrullin Valla and that it meant Alusin was Alhazen, but then The Valla vanished. In the aftermath we heard tell of the one known as Elianas, and then I understood Alusin dreamed of another, for Torrullin’s heart was already taken. Alusin’s heart would go to Tristan Valla, the genetic twin, and the aspirant Timekeeper of this time.” Savier moved around the ebony vessel and approached. “Unfortunately a Kemir cannot transfer allegiance to another without consequences. He awakened something truly ancient.”
Galarth glanced at the casket. “He is evil.”
“He is, but he is the reason we still have a world to call home.” Savier’s eyes shone with an inner fire. “He was meant to stay asleep! But bloody Alusin …” He inhaled and serenity, cold calm, returned to his demeanour. “Alusin broke the link.”
“Why has he waited a hundred years, then?” Shenendo demanded, gesturing at the imposing vessel.
“I do not know.”
“What about the daetal? Quicksilver? What is this link?”
Savier sighed and gestured up. “Let us leave this space. I never feel comfortable here.”
He strode away. The torches snuffed the instant he put a foot to the stairs. Cursing, the Kaval men followed.
BREATHING GREAT GULPS of the fresh air, Shenendo asked, “Are you his keeper?”
Eurue- The Forgotten World Page 12
