“Savier?” Alusin stood.
“Gods, how do you stand it here, brother? It’s fucking freezing.” His hands nearly went into the flames.
Laughing, Alusin reached for a woollen cloak on a nearby peg and brought it over. Tossing it around his brother’s shoulders, he asked, “What brings you?”
Wrapping the cloak tight, his hands curled into the material, Savier turned around. He marked the others individually, inclined his head towards Tristan Valla, and then faced his brother.
“The Kiln’s wards are shattered.”
Alusin blanched. “Are you sure?”
Irritated, he moved to a seat vacant beside Tristan, not caring if it was where Alusin had been sitting. “Of course I am bloody certain,” he snapped. Sitting, he huddled into the cloak.
“It’s hurting you.” Alusin hunkered beside the chair.
“Millions of sharp cold …”
“… needles,” Tristan murmured.
Savier glared at him. “Yes. How do you know that?”
“That happened to me when I applied a rune to the quicksilver barrier on Petunya.”
The older Algheri shuddered. “I cannot feel my extremities. It grows larger in my thoughts, this cold.”
“THAT’S NOT SUGGESTION,” Chaim said.
“No.” Alusin grasped his brother’s face as the man’s eyes rolled back, his fingers splayed to touch as much skin as possible. Murmuring under his breath, he concentrated. He was a healer, with the power to make as well as unmake …
Duality.
Tristan was right.
“It’s not working.” Despair washed through him. Savier grew ever colder and there was no response to his healing. His brother’s eyes closed as if he sought oblivion.
“Here.”
Alusin focused on the hand intruding into his field of view. A golden hand holding out a golden coin nestled upon a layer of links.
The Maghdim Medaillon.
Aware then of the utter silence surrounding him, he lifted his gaze to Tristan. “You have taken it off.”
“Never mind that now. This helped Torrullin. Let it help you.”
Yes, Savier needed him more than this unheralded event needed unravelling. Removing his hands from his brother, Alusin snatched the Medaillon from Tristan’s palm and shunted it swiftly over his head. Dragging the neck of his tunic wide, he merged the device to the skin of his chest.
A collective sigh sounded behind him, but he ignored that.
Leaning in, he gripped Savier’s face again, and called for aid. A shiver passed through him as he sensed the power in the Medaillon respond. Ignoring the rush, he focused the added strength into the art of healing.
Savier inhaled a rasping breath, as if his throat defrosted.
Alusin pressed down, praying to all gods and goddesses. Torrullin, help me! Light erupted from under his palms and spread. The glow swiftly encased Savier, and the man convulsed.
Beads of sweat popped out on his forehead.
Alusin blinked when he saw that, and then smiled.
He gentled his grip and released his brother. The glow faded.
Savier opened his eyes. “Thank you. Thank the gods I came to you.”
Alusin knuckled his forehead to release his tension. “How do you feel?”
“Hot, actually.”
Sighs of relief sounded, and then Alusin faced Tristan. “Remind me to thank Torrullin when I again see him.”
Tristan inclined his head, saying not a word.
Removing the Maghdim, Alusin handed it over. Rising, the Valleur accepted it. They traded stares, unmoving.
“Oh, kiss him already,” Savier muttered.
Alusin, horrified, jerked his attention to his brother, but Tristan smiled and sat back down with absolute serenity.
Chaim cleared his throat. “Alusin Algheri, know I shall never doubt you again.” The old man rose and bowed.
“Chaim?” Alusin croaked.
The old Jew straightened. “I have been burned by the Maghdim. It knows me not. It does, however, know you.” He placed a hand over his heart. “My lord.”
The rest of the Kaval rose and bowed also, hands over hearts.
Savier’s gaze flicked from one to the other. “What is the meaning of this?”
No one replied, and Alusin had lost the power of speech.
Tucking the Medaillon away, Tristan simply smiled.
Chapter 24
Wind spirits are pranksters
~ Lanto ~
Eurue
The Fortress
THE SQUALL INTENSIFIED. By nightfall all gathered as near to the fire as was possible wondered when the windows would blow out. Drafts of air howled icily around corners and whistled eerily under doors. The monstrosity had been invaded by wind spirits.
All transport abilities had been curtailed by the energy unleashed. Effectively, they were under siege. They were also safe from malevolent beings.
“Is it natural?” Jonas asked, staring worriedly at the opposite window.
“Pretty normal,” Alusin assured him. “Gabryl doesn’t know about this place anyway.”
Savier, beside his brother, had barely spoken since his healing, preferring to study the dynamics. He understood Alusin was part of a team, a powerful and supportive team. There were no underlying currents of jealousy or competitiveness present; these men worked together. Often his gaze flicked to Tristan. Something had changed there. The Valleur exuded confidence and appeared far more comfortable in his skin than he had upon their first meeting.
Alusin, he noted, studied Tristan thoughtfully as well, doing so unobtrusively. Or thus he believed. Tristan, Savier mused, was very aware of his Eternal Companion.
“Sav, concentrate. Tell us about the Kiln and why you believe the wards shattered,” Alusin prompted.
Blinking, he focused to realise they were now watching him.
“That region was mountainous before, but the unmaking - antimatter - flattened and melted all. The result? A desolate place, with a diamond sheet sealing the ingress. It isn’t a diamond, but that is the closest comparison. The sheet is impervious to all tools, even the diamond-tipped kind, and withstands all sorcery also. As Keeper, I am aware it is a structure of wards, but only now do I realise I was part of the warding.”
“You are saying you felt it shatter,” Tristan murmured. “Gabryl has thus cleared what is now an exit.”
Savier nodded.
“Do you feel it still?”
“Unfortunately not.”
“Thus both Algheri are apart from the oath in present day. Gabryl has autonomy.”
Sighing, the Keeper gave a nod.
Tristan straightened from his lounging attitude in an armchair in the shadows opposite. The seating had been arranged in two semi-circles round the hearth. “Something more is needed or the daetal would be out.” Elbows on knees, he stared into the fire over Chaim’s shoulder. “The something more worries me.”
“We need to re-seal it now,” Belun suggested. “Prevent the issue.”
Savier was about to deny that when Tristan did it for him. “That cannot be a long-term solution. Bind them anew and their hate will grow, and in the future this will happen again and with greater impact. No, we need to do as Sabian revealed to Torrullin. Release the soul and it instantly travels to its next destination.”
“Breathe on them?” Belun snorted. “That’s not going to do it. Not only are they too many, but the Kemir are not aware of the defence required.”
“We need Kila,” Tristan stated.
The Centuar swung his great head. “What? No. Why?”
“Who is this Kila?” Savier asked.
“She is able to fashion talismanic objects,” Tristan replied.
Savier frowned. “I see where you are headed, but talismans take time.”
“We do not need those; we need the lesser versions. Aspected devices will do.”
“A host of warm-blooded wearing an aspect of the ancient breath?” Alusin asked. “It
has potential.”
Intrigued, Savier leaned in. “How? A host requires a host of aspects.”
Tristan grinned. “Firstly, Kila is at the Grunway Hall, a place where sorcerers congregate. She already has the means to fashion many fast.”
“She will do it there? Good. “Belun slumped.
“Centuar, you need to face her sometime,” Assint laughed.
As the Kaval glanced at each other in amusement, Savier understood the flamboyant creature harboured feelings for this Kila, and had not yet acknowledged them.
Chaim shifted in his seat to address his leader behind him. “This is a life-wheel you speak of. It requires a flame-wright.”
Tristan gave a lopsided grin. “And I know just where to find one.” He touched the medal under his tunic.
Savier desired to hear that particular tale. Even in isolated Eurue had they heard of the Maghdim Medaillon, but those were whispers of rumour. Alusin had earlier refused to speak of it; he needed to talk to his brother where no ears were present soon.
Fuma rose to his considerable height, pulling a cloak close.
When he donned the article a while ago, the one called Amunti had chortled long and irrepressibly, causing the three Centuar to shake in silent mirth. Savier did not understand why, but he did see the dancing derision the dark-skinned man bent on his brothers.
“Layer after layers has now been exposed, and the one factor that stands forth as ultimate is Gabryl’s need for Alusin’s presence. My lord Tristan, I suggest removing both Algheri from Eurue until the life-wheels are ready.” Fuma held a long finger up when Alusin opened his mouth. “You are the something more, Alusin. Gabryl searches for you right now. He cannot release his children without you.”
Alusin rolled his eyes. “So I must go away? And take my brother with me?”
“Until the aspects are ready, yes. The status quo, tense as it is, will remain.”
“And we thus gain time enough to prepare the ancient breath,” Tristan murmured. “I agree.”
Alusin looked at him. “Savier, are you ready to see the worlds out there?”
This he had not expected to happen for him, ever. He long ages ago made peace with the fact that his duty was the protection of Eurue and that meant never leaving. His heart abruptly thundered a rhythm unknown to him inside its bone cavity.
“Lead the way, little brother,” he laughed.
Tristan slapped at his thigh. “Excellent, we now have a plan. As soon as this storm gives us a window for transport, we are on our way to Petunya to see Kila. And then, the gods help us, we will pay a visit to a certain cave on Pendulim.”
TRISTAN SAT ON his bed watching the storm rage, fully dressed. He twitched when a hand settled on his shoulder from behind him.
A voice whispered in his ear, “You did not hear me knock.”
The ferocity outside drowned out all other sound indeed. Placing his hand over the one on his shoulder, he did not bother replying. It meant shouting and he was not in that kind of mood.
Alusin settled in behind him. The man’s long legs curled around his meditative pose and Alusin propped his chin on Tristan’s other shoulder to also stare at the storm.
With his focus on the lightning imbued transparency, Tristan lifted Alusin’s free hand from where it rested on his thigh alongside and placed it on his own thigh.
The man shuddered and instantly gripped his hair to haul his head back. Tristan gazed into eyes dark as night. His silvered. Again he lifted the hand now on his upper leg, and placed it on his crotch. Alusin’s mouth crashed down to devour him.
Fire raged into his blood.
He twisted and hauled Alusin in, falling back with the man crouching over him. Straddling his hips, arousal pressing against arousal, Alusin swiftly removed his tunic. His breathing ragged, Tristan hauled his off as well.
Lightning seared the world and lightning forked him when Alusin slapped his hand over the Medaillon. Tristan arched. When he came down, he yanked Alusin to him, and skin pressed to skin, the magical device between them …
Dead silence overcame the world.
It instantly paralysed two men on a bed.
Alusin lifted his gaze to the window. He looked down again to find Tristan’s wry expression waiting for him.
“Fuck,” Alusin muttered, and clambered off, reaching for his tunic.
Seeing how uncontrolled his movements were, Tristan stood and drew the man to him by his hips. “Another time?”
In answer Alusin kissed him, and it escalated to the point where the storm and its respite receded into the background … until a knock sounded on the door.
“We have to go now! Wake up!” Savier’s voice.
Mere minutes later, the three together abandoned Eurue.
Chapter 25
Gadgets always draw attention
~ Tattle ~
Petunya
Stalk
Grunway Hall and Town
THE GRUNWAY HALL was of fired brick, a large single storey rectangle surrounding an interior courtyard. The courtyard was out of view, but a spreading tree from within revealed its presence.
Tristan grunted when he saw the building. It was ugly and reminded him of a prison.
“Not conducive to magical studies, if you ask me,” Alusin murmured.
Savier was wordless, his gaze drinking in every different sight. Winter daylight glittered in puddles; it had rained recently.
“We find Kila and Jimini first,” Tristan said, and headed to the entrance.
As luck or serendipity would have it, Kila suddenly exploded from those double doors, an arresting frown speaking for her. She was furious about something.
She halted when she saw them, and clapped, a huge smile blossoming. “Oh, thank goodness! Maybe you can talk sense into these idiots.”
“Not very diplomatic of you,” Tristan grinned, knowing she had a fiery temper. She was perfect for Belun, in his opinion, but it was not his business.
“Trust me, diplomacy does not work here. You have to shove shit down their throats.”
“What’s the issue?” Alusin asked. He noticed Savier wandering off, and hauled him back and maintained a grip on his arm. “Don’t get lost now,” he snapped.
Kila studied the stranger, her eyes narrowing. “He looks like you, Alusin.”
“My brother. Savier, meet Kila. Kila, Savier.”
They briefly clasped hands, and then Kila muttered, “Never mind the issue here. It’s just pig-headedness and Jimini and I can deal with it. Why are you here?” She gave her attention to Tristan as she asked that.
“Is there somewhere we can talk?” he responded.
She eyed him, and then twirled, red hair flying, and moved off to the right. “Follow me.”
“Where is Jimini?” Alusin asked.
“Inside.” She gestured at the brick building. “She has more patience. Do we need her?”
Tristan chuckled. “Leave her to smooth those feathers you ruffled.”
Giving the finger over her shoulder, Kila led them into a broad cobbled street with cottages gracing both sides, stopping eventually at a rustic barn at the end.
“We’re here. Relax, it’s converted. The Grunway use it for guests when needed, which we are at this point. Jala is here, but the men are all out working the fields beyond.” She laughed. “They got bored.” She sobered immediately. “They also need to do something in order not to think too much.”
Nodding, Tristan indicated she should enter.
THE INTERIOR WAS a surprise. Terracotta tiles gave ambience to beautiful wooden furniture, while colourful soft furnishings exuded comfort. All was open plan design, from sitting area to kitchen to dining space. A warm-wood staircase led to chambers upstairs.
Jala had her head in a book as they entered, but a smile soon welcomed them. “Tristan! Alusin! It’s good to see you.”
“Likewise, Jala,” Tristan smiled in response.
“Hello, Jala. Meet my brother.” Alusin introduced them, while Trista
n beckoned Kila into the kitchen area.
“What’s up?” she asked in a lowered tone.
“We’re going to need the Grunway. Are they being stupidly stubborn or merely impetuous?”
“The latter.”
“That we can work with, thank Aaru.” Tristan swiftly explained about needing the resident magic workers to fashion a multitude of charms.
Kila eyed him. “And the charm? Obviously this is why you’re talking to me.”
“You know how to control the magic inherent, yes, but a talisman takes too long …”
Her eyebrows flew up. “You’re going to Pendulim for an aspected life-wheel.”
“Yes. Are you able to duplicate those?”
She frowned. “I don’t know. It depends on the alloy and also the aspect.” She arched a single eyebrow. “If I go with you, I am able to ensure it can be duplicated.”
Tristan inclined his head. “Fine.”
She grimaced. “Bloody don’t like going to Pendulim, but if needs must. I hear the charms. Drives me crazy.”
He clasped her shoulder briefly. “We will be in an isolated place, don’t worry. Now, I need to speak to the Grunway.”
“Gods, please don’t. I know I sounded as if want you to kick butt, but, truth is, they will not listen to me and Jimini afterwards if you throw your weight around. The clan system may be matriarchal here, but those idiots are chauvinistic.” Kila straightened her shoulders. “Leave it to me. Stay. Eat something. I’ll talk to Jimini and we’ll get them to agree.”
Tristan gave a laugh. “I bow to your wisdom.”
She gave him the evil eye, and marched out.
SAVIER WANDERED around reading book titles, picking up object d’art and generally putting his nose in everywhere. Alusin watched him, his expression thoughtful.
Leaving the brothers, Jala joined Tristan in the kitchen. “Tea?”
“Hell, no. Coffee.” Tristan laughed. “Those two prefer tea.”
“I’ll make both.” As she busied herself, she asked, “Is he still around?”
“Our old-fashioned gentleman? Unfortunately.”
Eurue- The Forgotten World Page 19
