It was a terrible time in the history of this world.
She would not reveal any of that. Erin drew breath as she lifted a hand to knock on a beautiful antique door and then released it explosively as the door pulled inward and an old woman stood there with accusation in her eyes.
“What do you want here?”
“Old mother, I …”
“I am not your mother, girl. Call me Amdel and nothing else.”
Erin cleared her throat. A hard case, this one. “Amdel, my name is Erin and I hoped to speak with you about portals between …”
“I know what portals are for,” Amdel snapped, her eyes suspicious now. “Why should I tell you anything? And how do you know of me?”
“I am an immortal and Amunti told me about you,” Erin said, preferring to speak the truth as far as she could take it.
A long, hard silence ensued, which Erin dared not break.
“My son is alive, isn’t he?”
Now, Erin could not tell an outright lie. She could skirt the truth, but only by omission, and faced with a direct question … “Yes, he is.”
Amdel’s face underwent transformation. “He did it to protect me, I thought so. My poor, dear boy. Are you friend to him?”
Erin gave a genuine smile. “Yes, I am.” And that was the whole truth.
Amdel nodded. “You speak truth, I hear it. So, Erin, friend of Amunti, come in and we will talk, and not just about portals.” She stood aside and allowed Erin to pass.
The door closed, shutting out sunlight.
Nemisin’s World
PRIMA WAS ABOUT TO put his first question to Sabian when Saska’s dismayed cry arrested him.
Caballa’s head had snapped back.
Declan knelt before her. He studied the Valleur seer a moment, “She is in contact with farspeakers. Unexpected and strong.”
Caballa reverted to normal position, but went on sitting with eyes closed. A minute later she shook her head as if exasperated, and opened her eyes. “What now?”
“Caballa?” Saska prompted.
“The Xenian speaker chain.”
Declan frowned. “Trouble on Xen?”
“Nothing like that. Gods, do you people always think the worst first?” Caballa muttered. “Apparently the Valla heirs are at the enclave on Xen. They want to talk to me.”
“They aren’t on Valaris? Torrullin will have a heart attack,” Declan said.
“Why do they want to speak with you?” Prima asked.
She shook her head.
“Ask,” Prima snapped.
Caballa glared at him and then her gaze flicked over Declan, Sabian, and settled on Saska. “I am not ready.”
“You are being pulled in, Caballa,” Saska sighed.
“I don’t know if I can face him. Twenty-five years should be long enough, but is it?”
“The heirs are not Torrullin,” Prima said. “Ask what is going on. They may be in danger.”
Her eyes closed and long minutes passed. She returned along the chain to Rose and on Xen Rose passed communication to Tristan, who then included his two cousins.
Caballa? Tristan asked.
Which one are you?
Tristan.
Tristan, I sense Teroux and Tianoman alongside you. I cannot listen to three of you over this vast distance.
May they listen in?
Yes.
Thank you. Caballa, we need to see you.
Why? Are you in danger?
No, but Torrullin may be.
Torrullin knows how to look after Torrullin. Tristan, I know you are Valla and have the right to command me …
Not unless I am Vallorin, Caballa.
I had this conversation once with your father, a long time ago. You are Valla; you may command.
I choose not to; I am asking. Something is amiss with everything, Tristan responded.
Currently I sit with two Kaval. Rumours of an army, three kingdoms, and Lowen is missing. Something is decidedly amiss, but Torrullin is aware and is already dealing with it.
Lowen is missing? No wonder he acted crazy.
How do you mean?
I think he is dreaming, Caballa, and I think it is about Lowen. We did not know she is missing, but it makes sense now. He spoke of layers of rock, time going backward and it frightened us. We believe he needs you.
So you took it upon yourselves?
Yes.
Torrullin does not need me.
I think you are wrong.
If he does, he may call.
We need you, too.
Caballa’s eyes snapped open. Damn and blast.
Caballa?
She stared at Saska, but was not seeing her. Hearing the echo of Tristan’s call, she debated whether to ignore him. Seeing Saska was about to speak, she re-entered the communication. Tristan? How do you know he is dreaming?
Relief from Tristan as he sent back, I dream. I know the signs.
How does he seem to you?
Confused, overwhelmed. Like the time before he became Elixir. He may be aware of the situation and he may be countering, but I doubt he is prepared for what he will discover and, Caballa, if Lowen is missing …
She is missing in time.
Gods, and whom do you think will fetch her? This may be another altering for him.
She swallowed before she sent, Return to Valaris, and take Rose with you. I shall come to you there.
Elation from Tristan, and then doubt. Why do I need Rose?
She is able to use the chain for you and, as she is listening in, she knows too much now. Rose, sweetie, can you hear me?
Rose took over. I hear you, Caballa.
Shut the Vallas out.
Rose did so. They are deaf now.
Go with them, Rose, but do not play with them. These are powerful men and they can squash you.
Maybe I should stay here.
If you do not go, Torrullin will send someone to extricate you. You do not want that.
What do I know, for Aaru’s sake?
You are a farspeaker, sweetie, and all you need is listen afterward to the echoes. Dangerous for you. Go with them, but stay with Tristan, for he has the intelligence to ignore your lures. Understood?
Yes.
Good. I shall see you on Valaris shortly.
Caballa severed the connection. Poor Rose. “I am going to Valaris,” she said, looking at Saska.
“Are they in danger?”
“They may be.”
“When?” Saska asked in a small voice.
“In the morning.” She glanced at Prima. “Ask Sabian about the Three Kingdoms of Orb; that is what you are after.” Caballa looked next to Declan. “Agnimus has changed form and personality and cannot be found while you seek what you saw of him on Valaris. You must find the altered man. There are precedents for this amongst the lore of the Ancients - Sabian will know.” She rose. “If you will excuse me, I need to pack essentials.”
“Gods, Caballa!” Saska jumped to her feet.
“You should come with me.”
Saska withdrew. “No.”
Caballa smiled with understanding. “I will return after I’ve spoken to the Vallas.”
Saska nodded without speaking.
“Caballa,” Declan frowned, and then did not know what to say.
Prima said it. “There is a meeting in the Dome in less than a week. The Dome will be floated on Averis Lake before Elixir’s villa on Sanctuary. You should be at that meeting, Valleur seer, perhaps even with the Valla heirs.”
She stared at the tall, formal Prima. “The Dome is coming through atmosphere?”
Declan grimaced. “Bait and threat in one guise. This is no small danger we are dealing with.”
“Gods,” Saska murmured.
Caballa sucked breath in. “Perhaps I will be at that meeting, yes.”
Sabian looked from one to the other, blue eyes wide. “Orb is Sanctuary, do you know that? The Three Kingdoms of Orb are Sanctuary, and the Dome is to go down there? That is
absolute madness.”
There was silence. Then, “We should take him to Torrullin now, Siric.”
Declan nodded. “Agreed. Maybe the Dome’s descent may be arrested.”
Sabian blubbered, “I cannot speak to Elixir; I shall lose my voice!”
Prima gave a grim smile. “He does not need you to speak with words, Master Historian. You are coming with us and we are going now. Where is he at present, Declan?”
“Grinwallin.”
“Then to Grinwallin we go. Sabian?”
“Now? I have nothing packed.”
“You will be returned soon and if not, we shall provide. Now.” Prima was firm and held his hand out. “My Lady, it was good to see you. Please forgive this rapid and rude departure.”
Saska nodded as if she had lost the ability to speak.
Declan kissed her cheek. “I will come back with news soon, all right?”
He gripped a stubborn Sabian, glanced at Prima and vanished with the historian. Prima gave a grin, bowed and followed the Siric’s signature.
Leaving Saska and Caballa staring at each other.
Chapter 13
The real truth lies in Grinwallin’s secret escape routes. Not even the Senlu have discovered those. One day you will remember those hidden spaces, when you need to find a way out … or a way to somewhere. It will lead you to the Luvan truths. And other secrets.
~ Rixile to Elixir, Grinwallin
Grinwallin
TORRULLIN HAD NOT spent real time in the inner city of Grinwallin.
He knew of ways, one of which led to the crucible chamber, another leading to the mortuary and another to the Healer’s Cavern, and he would probably not get lost.
Now he no longer knew where he was in relation to the Great Hall and had no idea where Teighlar led the way to.
All he knew with certainty was that Grinwallin, city inside a mountain, was larger than imagined. It always stumped him, Teighlar’s claim that ten million could pack into the city if crisis loomed, and now he understood that assertion. There were more caverns inside than homes outside, more infrastructure than was apparent from the outer walls, and he knew there was a massive system below even these many levels where Grinwallin’s industry flourished.
“Teighlar, is there another exit from the mountain?”
“There was once.”
“Why past tense?”
“Cave in.”
“Where?”
The Emperor threw an unreadable look over his shoulder. “Why do you need to know?”
“Oh, I don’t know, in case of an emergency?”
“You expect something like that?”
“No, damn it.”
Teighlar went on walking. They had to move in single file, for the tunnels were narrow. He held a torch aloft for light.
A while later he said, “There is a river below. If one follows it downstream it leads to an exit, but only water passes now.”
“I did not know there was a river.”
“Now you do,” Teighlar snapped. “How in hell do you think we manufacture on the lower levels - carry water down?”
“Why are you angry?”
Teighlar stopped. The smoke from the torch obscured his face.
“This is private, Torrullin. Even an Emperor bound to his city needs keep certain facts close - perhaps especially a man who cannot ever fucking leave here.”
Torrullin stared through the haze. “Give me that thing; you are smoking us out.”
Silence, and then a bark of laughter. “Fine, Enchanter, give me one of your globes.” He up-ended the torch, extinguishing it violently.
An acrid aroma nearly choked them.
“Gods, what did you kill it on?” Torrullin muttered, and a moment later passed a lit orb to Teighlar. He created one for himself also, and peered at the ground. “Bloody hell, smells like piss.”
Teighlar gave a genuine chuckle. “Rats. We are pretty deep.”
“Near the industry caverns?”
“No, we bypassed them a while back. Lower.” He gave a dry snort. “The river is above us now.”
Torrullin looked up. “Why does that make me feel uncomfortable?” The ceiling of the narrow tunnel, to his relief, was bone dry.
“It gets even spookier soon and the river will be the least of your concerns.”
“The paintings are down here? Lowen came alone?”
“Apparently.”
“The woman has guts,” Torrullin muttered. “Why down here?”
“Safety.”
“From what?”
“Gawpers,” Teighlar murmured. “You will see soon enough.”
“Who were the artists?”
“Ah, at last, an intelligent question.”
“Now you are pissing me off.”
Teighlar rounded a bend. “Duck as you come around …”
A curse told him his warning came too late. He laughed, enjoying Torrullin’s discomfort.
“From Luvan records we know there was a powerful brotherhood at one time, an order of priests and magicians. We also know this brotherhood, Brotherhood, at one time usurped the hereditary royal line, ruling in their stead and keeping royal blood ignorant of their claim to rulership. A time came when the royals were no longer duped and prepared for centuries to retake what was rightfully theirs.
“In fact, that day came when Grinwallin was built and ready and empty. The royals, unbeknownst to the Brotherhood, were the power behind the building of Grinwallin and they brought the people into the new city, ruling again from that auspicious day. That was when real strife began - royal versus Brotherhood. The paintings you are about to see were rendered by both royals and priests as they pitted their wits against each other.”
“Magic?”
“Most definitely.”
“Therefore the safety issue. Why did the Senlu not destroy them when they took over from the Luvans?”
“They are indestructible. No fire, no water, no burial, nothing mars them. They are as fresh in colour and impact as they were millions of years ago.”
“Smacks of foretelling.”
A sigh up ahead. “Interesting you get that without seeing them.”
The tunnel declined and commenced a wide curving. A chill seeped in.
“Teighlar, there are Luvan records?”
“Idiot,” the Emperor muttered. “There are Luvan records.”
Torrullin stopped. “I need access.”
“They were sealed away by an ancestor of mine and even I do not know where that place is. What I told you is from what is described in our own annals. I swear this, my friend; I have never seen the actual records.”
Torrullin nodded. “You looked for them?”
A ghost of a smile. “In ninety million years of wandering these halls as little more than a wraith I grew bored. Yes, I have searched, dug, opened caverns, pulled away rock falls … and found zip.”
Torrullin walked thoughtfully onward. That, then, was his next challenge.
Teighlar, watching him, smiled. “If you find them, I shall eat my horse’s dung.”
“You’re on, Emperor.”
Chuckling together, they went on.
Sanctuary
JIMINI, RETURNED TO HER usual guise, wandered the villa in dispirit.
How had the Emperor seen through her? Gods, the man was good. He should be Kaval.
She entered the bedchamber where earlier she dressed in Lowen’s clothes and opened the doors of the closet. There was not much, but what there was, was pure Lowen.
In her mind’s eye she saw the Xenian in the Dome, sometimes in breeches for a mission, sometimes in flowing skirts and fringed tunics, and always incredibly arresting. She was not a glowing beauty as some women were; she was more about planes and shadows, emphasized by her dark hair. And she was tall, lean, fearless, with the bluest eyes.
Lucky, Jimini thought enviously. She closed the doors, feeling intrusive.
Returning downstairs, she was at a loose end and hated it. Keep occupie
d was her motto, for then the demons could not creep up on one. Idleness allowed the devils supremacy.
Perhaps she could return to the Dome, but Belun would hate interruption. Biting back an oath, she headed for the kitchen. Maybe something to eat.
She was cheerfully frying onions when Chaim found her.
Jimini eyed him. “He wouldn’t like you coming into his private space.”
“I also know he is not here,” the spymaster muttered.
“Why are you here?”
“I need your help.”
She lifted brows. “Want to talk while I cook? Hungry?”
He looked over the array she had spread on the counter. Chicken salad, fresh bread, bacon, the onions sizzling away, and coffee brewed somewhere.
“I am hungry,” he grinned, and then, “Is it all right?”
“There’s enough food in this kitchen to feed a small army, relax, and he told me to make myself at home. Sit, it won’t be long, and start talking.”
Chaim perched on a high stool on the other side of the counter and watched her. She was deft in the cooking department. “I may have a lead on the resistance army.”
“It exists? It’s not all smoke and mirrors?”
“No. Seems we are onto something big.”
“Where did you hear … oh, never mind; I know you and your sources. Go on.”
“Major quantities of weapons are being smuggled into Lax.”
“God, you want me to go to Lax.”
“You are the only one who can, Jimini.”
She gave a wry face. “Terrible for me.”
“Are you free now?”
“At a decided loose end. Teighlar saw through me. I was sent packing.”
“Torrullin used you to trick the Emperor?” Chaim was aghast.
She stared at him. “It didn’t work, so I can’t tell you more.”
“What is going on in that head, I wonder?”
“Chaim, leave it.” Jimini slammed a plate before him and shed chopped bacon and onion from the pan into it. “Help yourself to bread and salad. We’ll have coffee after.” She took another plate and dished up for herself and then sat on a stool opposite him. “So tell me how you want me to appear on Lax.”
“You will do it?”
Lore of Sanctum Omnibus Page 12
