Eurue- The Forgotten World

by Elaina J Davidson

  AN ETERNITY LATER, the four men under the latticework overhead were drained.

  Not only had Teighlar listened without judgement, but he had also offered insights Tristan had previously overlooked. Teighlar, he admitted, made a man think, hard. Torrullin once mentioned it, saying the Emperor could unman one with words. Indeed, but those words were ever backed up with the ferocity he kept in check. One never underestimated Teighlar.

  Heaving a sigh, Teighlar murmured, “How long has Cathian been missing?”

  “Since her ‘death’ as Alusin’s grandmother,” Gabryl said. “It was hard to keep track of her from my casket, but I wish now I had tried with more intent.”

  Teighlar’s eyes hardened upon the word ‘casket’ and yet he remained calm. “The fault is not yours.” He stared at the Kemir. “Your race has much to answer for.”

  Alusin inclined his head.

  “Yet it is true we were all stupid back then in those mists of time. You are not directly to blame and neither is your brother. Soon we will talk, your brother and I, but diplomacy can wait.”

  “Thank you, my lord Emperor.”

  Nodding, Teighlar gazed at Gabryl. “It was hard to keep track, you said, which means you caught glimpses. Did any of those reveal this turret seen in a vision?”

  “No, there was no sense of place. What there was, was a sense of her via our twin genetics.” Gabryl frowned, and rose to pace. “I am afraid she lost herself, her true essence. She fell in love and he …” He threw his arms out in frustration. “I do not know what he did, but she hates, deeply and darkly hates. I do not know where she is, but she has fallen into darkness.”

  Alusin blurted, “You never said that before! All gods, are we seeking a darak power now?”

  “She is my sister. My twin. I don’t care how dark she is,” Gabryl hissed.

  “You should,” Tristan snapped. “We Vallas know what happens when family falls into darkness.”

  Teighlar murmured, “Indeed. As do the Sirdann. I murdered my blood to prevent it spreading.” He stared up at Gabryl. “And yet her darkness is not proven, and until we know without doubt she is fallen, she is welcome. We will find her first and make those choices after.”

  Pressing his lips together, Gabryl nodded.

  Teighlar leaned forward to spear Tristan with his pale blue gaze. “What is the Kaval doing to find her?”

  “Firstly, every mention of a turret and tower is being collated, and secondly, any and all mention of a Cathian appearing through the ages. Hopefully she kept her name, as Gabryl did.”

  “She did,” Gabryl stated.

  “What can I do to help?” Teighlar murmured.

  “Allow Alusin access to the Crucible Chamber.”

  “Why?”

  “Dechend once told me about a sequence on those walls that allow a seer more direct sight.”

  “My Elder should learn to keep his mouth shut,” Teighlar muttered. “You are a seer, Alusin?”

  “I am.”

  Decisive, the Emperor rose. “Then you have my permission. But first, we eat. I think better when I eat.”

  Rising, Tristan murmured, “What of Alik?”

  Blinking, Teighlar looked at Gabryl when he answered. “My daughter is not in Grinwallin presently. She is spending time on Thisseldrum at the medical facility. When she returns, you will meet her.” Noting the tightness about the man’s mouth, he added, “Alik is the most open-minded person I know and she will welcome a brother. I hope you welcome a younger sister.”

  Tristan glanced at Alusin. That, in his opinion, was a clear warning. Teighlar would protect Alik first, no matter what it cost him.

  Gabryl relaxed and actually smiled. “I welcome family back into my life.” He snorted. “That includes the Algheri brothers, being my grand-nephews.”

  Alusin rolled his eyes. “Oh, the horror.”

  Booming laughter, Teighlar slapped at his thighs. “By all gods, that means they are related now to me too!”

  Chapter 43

  People who live amid rocks love to eat

  ~ Lintusillem Saying ~

  The Dome

  JONAS THUMPED THE slab he worked at and stared anxiously at the image on his screen. “Belun, I think I found it.”

  “Found what?” the Centuar muttered from the console.

  “The turret.”

  Belun looked up, frowning. “So quick? It feels too easy.”

  Jonas glared at him. “Algorithms aren’t easy. I jumped through virtual shenanigans for this.”

  Swearing under his breath, Belun approached. Prima, engaged in creating a Kaval seal not only for the Grunway to employ, but also for any future ventures where the Kaval needed to delegate, left off his design work, and trailed the Centuar to Jonas’ work space.

  The three of them were alone in the Dome. Kila and Jimini had returned to Petunya, while Galarth and Shenendo headed to Titania’s library to research turrets and Cathian Lowry. Fuma and Amunti had been dispatched back to Lax to deal with new issues there. Assint and Mahler backed them up. Chaim was on Xen III to have words with his underworld contacts.

  Belun frowned at Jonas. “Why are you worried?”

  The man jabbed at the screen. “That’s on Lintusillem.”

  Jonas’ homeworld; his brother Minos had passed on ten years ago, Jonas’ last family member. He avoided Lintusillem now in order to avoid his heartache.

  The image, while grainy and obviously old, revealed a land of stone, exactly what Lintusillem was. As a geologist’s paradise, rock, stone, pebble and boulder covered the majority of the landscape. Amid sharply edged mountains, an impossibly high tower reached for the heavens there.

  “I have not seen this and have never heard of it, but someone long ago raised it,” Jonas murmured. “Maybe it no longer exists.”

  “Then claiming you found it helps us none,” Belun pointed out. “Check if it still stands.” Briefly clasping the man’s shoulder, he retreated to the console once more.

  Jonas looked up at Prima. “This was built when the immortals still ruled Lintusillem. I don’t like it.”

  “There is something ominous about it,” Prima agreed, staring at the image.

  At the very top, under a steep roof, there was a tower room. It was definitely a turret, but no princess ever let down her hair from there.

  Prima shuddered. “I think it is the place.”

  Jonas nodded. “That worries me.”

  Also clasping his shoulder, Prima moved away. He and Belun locked gazes, but neither said a word.

  Grinwallin

  Crucible Chamber

  HE HAD HEARD about the Crucible Chamber and the series of multi-hued dots on the wall spaces between bas-relief pillars, the smooth floor, the rosy light and the depression covered with a brass cage, the light in that area blue, but seeing it, Alusin realised no words ever did it justice.

  This space exuded magic.

  Here the Luvans of old and the Senlu of the present worked at spells and larger enchantments. In the past the crucible contained all manner of magical device, but that was no longer so. Anything worth keeping had been deliberately hidden in Grinwallin’s rock walls, almost lost to time and memory. The crucible was also a portal and thus the devices were not safe in the depression.

  “Impressive,” he murmured, while wanting to shout out words such as fantastic, amazing and genius.

  “I suggest the crucible itself,” Teighlar said. “I will lift the cage now.” He proceeded to slap colourful dots, and the copper contraption lifted.

  Alusin warily approached the metal depression. Tristan told him once how a previous Vallorin entered Aaru via the portal, and how the Emperor was forced to retrieve him. He also revealed that Torrullin and Elianas went in just before Avaelyn entered the mists of absence, although no one knew where they went, only that they returned different.

  “It’s quite safe,” Teighlar said. “The portal requires a different sequence, and the two cannot run concurrently. Right now that is merely a spac
e to concentrate within.”

  “What do you need, Alusin?” Tristan asked as he halted on the edge.

  “Just her journal and silence. And time.” Alusin withdrew the book from the pouch buckled to his waist.

  Gabryl stared at his sister’s journal, but did not ask for it. They had discussed it in the Dome, and Alusin explained he thought Gabryl’s touch might influence the efficacy of using it to aid sight of Cathian. Once this task was completed, he would hand the man the book. Before leaving Eurue, Savier had remonstrated, but Alusin remained firm. He needed it, and it was more Gabryl’s than it was an Algheri heirloom.

  Removing his cloak, he handed it to Tristan, and stepped into the bowl. Sitting, he made himself comfortable.

  “Leave me now.”

  Tristan inclined his head and retreated, taking Teighlar and Gabryl with him. They congregated in the triangular entrance, and were silent.

  Alusin removed them from his attention, deliberately shutting them away from even peripheral view, and placed the journal open in the space between his crossed legs.

  He closed his eyes …

  … swords clashed and grunts accompanied every connection. A man’s voice and a woman’s tone …

  … flesh cleaved together, sweat in rivulets between. Hearts thundered in tandem as teeth pulled at swollen lips …

  … pale slender fingers gripped rich chestnut hair … a flash of amber eyes …

  … a mirror shattered and a screech followed. Hands convulsively smoothed over a swollen belly …

  … eerie saffron-hued tendrils moved amid stone, seeking, finding, exploding …

  … a scarlet rope of unleashed sorcery smacked into her, severing her ability to breathe …

  … screaming, she pushed, breathed, screamed, pushed … the babe was stillborn … his fault, his magic …

  … a dagger in the dark … slashing at his neck …

  Alusin opened his eyes, and almost hyperventilated. By all gods. Love found, love lost, because a baby died when sorcery went awry. Cathian, in her grief, became a dark entity, seeking vengeance.

  No doubt there was far more to the tale than those bare bones, but he needed her location more.

  After flipping pages, he rested both hands on the freshly revealed words, and again closed his eyes.

  … mud congealed around her, tightening as it dried …

  Flies crawled into her mouth, stealing the last vestiges of moisture from her tongue and gums …

  … the precipice was daunting, but also so inviting, death by flight …

  “Leave me alone!” She slashed at the hand reaching for her … and jumped into the fire …

  … a monstrous wave bore down on her … maybe this time …

  … long nails broke in his flesh … she ripped from him his sanity as hers was ripped from her …

  Alusin’s eyes snapped open. Sweat poured from every pore on his body. Cathian Lowry had a death wish. She placed herself in every fatal position possible, hoping to sever her immortal coil. He, whoever he was, saved her time and again, until her hate grew into a monster.

  She was the monster.

  Inhaling strength, he closed his eyes and went deeper.

  … filthy ropes of dull chestnut hair swirled in her vision as he gripped her, tied her in sorcerous bonds …

  … a door slammed, a lock twisted …

  Her hands bloody from pounding on the door, she screamed and screamed …

  “Gabryl, my brother, awaken! Find me! Kill him!”

  A flash of white light enveloped the world. Boulders the size of mountains trundled across the landscape. “Come! Take me with you!”

  Breathing erratically, Alusin tossed the journal from his presence. He crawled from the depression and hunkered there, unable to move further.

  Moments later Tristan kneeled beside him. “Can you stand?”

  Nodding, he accepted the help given to attain his feet, swayed and then hurled the contents of his stomach onto the pristine floor.

  Eventually, he straightened. Swallowing the gag reflex, he stared at Gabryl.

  The Diluvan swallowed in turn, his eyes filling with fear for his sister. “What is it?” he croaked out.

  “He … he locked her away to protect her,” Alusin whispered. “He loves her still, but she is beyond reason.”

  “Who?” Teighlar grunted.

  “I don’t know, but I have seen his face.” Alusin glanced at Tristan, and then fixated on that man. “A place of rocks. The boulders in my vision are more literal than I thought at the time.”

  Tristan and Teighlar looked at each other and both said simultaneously, “Lintusillem.”

  The Dome

  JONAS STARED AND stared at the satellite imagery he had hacked from a Beacon ship’s navigational computers.

  “Belun,” he whispered.

  The Centuar heard him. “You have a location?”

  “Yes,” Jonas croaked, and sat unmoving.

  Belun swiftly closed in. “You’re scaring me. What is it?”

  Jonas did not respond. The image spoke for itself.

  In an extinct volcano’s caldera, five turrets perched in a giant circle, surrounding a dome.

  The dome, while planet bound, was an exact replica of their magical space-travelling Gatherers’ Circle.

  “What the fuck?” Belun blurted.

  Chapter 44

  Honour lies in a promise kept

  ~ Arun, Druid ~

  The Dome

  TWO OGIVES CHIMED, and Belun stretched and moved away from the console. The Dragon ogive had sounded, which meant Tristan and Alusin were done with Grinwallin.

  He mouth nearly unhinged. “My Lord Emperor?”

  Teighlar gave a wry grin. “Hello to you, too, Belun.”

  The Centuar approached and offered his arm. “I know these are stressful events, but I am mighty glad to see you.”

  Teighlar winked. “It has been kind of staid in my stone city recently.”

  Tristan, at his side, laughed.

  Gabryl, entering with Alusin, shifted his gaze between his father and the Centuar. No doubt he now realised how much history had entwined for Grinwallin and the Kaval.

  Belun glanced at him. “You all right?”

  “You care?”

  “Dude, the console gave you the green light. That makes you acceptable in my book. You seem anxious. Are you all right?”

  Blinking, Gabryl bowed over his hands upon his chest. “My apologies and my thanks. No, I am not all right, but I will deal with it.”

  Belun frowned at Alusin. “You look like you just puked.”

  Rolling his eyes, Alusin said, “I did.”

  “That bad,” the Centuar stated. “Well, folks, hold onto your guts now, for this will really lay into all of you.” He gestured for Jonas to approach.

  Flapping a large printed image before him, Jonas closed in. Wordless, he handed it to Tristan, who took one look and jerked his head up.

  “Present time?”

  Jonas nodded. “Less than three standard moon cycles ago.”

  “Lintusillem?”

  Belun huffed. “By that I take it to mean you reached the same conclusion.”

  Slapping the image onto the slab, Tristan muttered, “Yes, but this is … what is this? Why? Who built it? Jonas?”

  “No records I can find, but Gal and Shedo are looking into it at the Library.”

  Teighlar leaned in to study the images, and Alusin and Gabryl crowded in as well. All three men paled.

  “Something else is at work here,” the Emperor murmured.

  “Fractal,” Gabryl said. He shouldered his way to the fore and traced a finger along faint stone paths - perhaps walls or buttresses - and gradually an interlinked pattern emerged. Circles overlapping circles in a circular manner, linking the perimeter. “Did you see the lights at the sarcophagus?”

  Alusin released an explosive breath. “Yes, I gave thought to the pattern then and you’re right; it’s the same. Cathian, do you t
hink?”

  “It’s her,” Gabryl said. “Her signature. Many apply fractals, various patterns of the sacred geometry, but this particular looping is her favourite.” He inhaled and straightened. “Sacred geometry is about life, but there are sub-layers.”

  “It is a reduction,” Teighlar said, still staring at the image. “Something massive has been reduced to a manageable scale.”

  “The fucking Dome,” Belun pointed out.

  Silence reigned then.

  Indeed.

  Someone went to much trouble to bring the Dome into the fray. It might be Cathian herself, or it happened with her help.

  Who was the man she fell in love with?

  Tristan was then all business. “Alusin, work with Prima. We need an image of the man’s face.” He glanced at Prima at the other edge of the slab, who nodded back at him. “Jonas, once you have an image to work with, I want to know who he is.”

  “Who are you talking about?” Belun frowned.

  “Cathian’s lover,” Alusin murmured as he rounded the slab towards Prima, with Jonas on his heels.

  Gabryl’s lips thinned, but he continued his study of the image before them.

  “Belun, ask Chaim to gather intel on Lintusillem in the present.”

  Nodding at Tristan, the Centuar moved to the console.

  Tristan faced the Emperor. “We will need soldiers to infiltrate that.” He gestured at the image. “I have already deployed Valleur …”

  “My men are yours,” Teighlar murmured. “How many?”

  “Gods, I don’t know. We need more information.”

  “This is larger than it appears,” Gabryl said, leaning in closer to peer at the towers. “See the shadows at the bases? This is taken when the sun was almost directly overhead, and therefore cannot reveal much about height, but the width and depth of shadow? Each tower has a circumference of at least …” He straightened to glance around. “… this dome.”