“Good point,” Declan agreed.
It meant Torrullin had not been the Darak Or he claimed he was. He protected against utter annihilation before becoming something he needed the Valleur of the time to regard him as. Something more was at work here, Declan mused. He discovered he was relieved. His faith in Torrullin was restored.
“Why did Elianas help him if he betrayed him?” Tianoman wondered.
“Only Elianas can answer that,” Quilla said.
“He has surprised me,” Sabian sighed. “Elianas is quite the player. Very slippery.”
“Yes, and has power here,” Teroux muttered.
“We do, too. Only transport is absent,” Teighlar said.
Caballa leaned forward, “Torrullin forgot, Elianas remembered, and Elianas speaks as if he remained aware of everything as he waited. Have any of you wondered where he waited?”
“He said another realm back in Grinwallin,” Sabian said.
“He knows too much for that to be true,” Declan frowned.
Caballa was impatient. She would not wait for them to figure it out; after today, she did not feel the need to keep the secret. “The Throne.”
The Valla heirs stared at her.
“Torrullin always claimed the Throne was sentient, although he didn’t know how right he was. Back on Akhavar where the Throne stood, Elianas called to Torrullin, and Torrullin used the Lumin Sword to separate Elianas from the seat and return to him his form. I saw this.”
“Fuck me,” Teighlar muttered.
“That’s why the Throne delayed,” Tristan said.
“I think the delay has more to do with this journey than residue from a sentient inhabit. I think the Throne reverted to what it was. At the next choosing, it will be objective,” Caballa said.
“Did Torrullin know Elianas at the instant he returned him form?” Quilla asked.
“He welcomed him as the Throne’s sentience, as a brother, no more than that. He wasn’t surprised, though,” Caballa murmured.
“Why now?” Teighlar wondered.
Quilla chuckled. “Because Lowen stirred.”
“Fine, but why react?”
“Lowen sensed what we feel,” Quilla murmured. “The pull to change, the lure to the Ancients, the need to know time. She was the catalyst, but any of us four might have exploded this wide open. Elianas, as Declan pointed out to me earlier, is an Ancient also; he felt the same stirring, and, lo, along comes Lowen.”
“And then there is prophecy,” Declan added.
Quilla grinned. “Guaranteed to get Elixir’s attention.”
“Except he does not give a dinar for prophecy, does he?” Sabian pointed out. “Damn, he probably hid little notes to ensure he followed the path as before.”
They stared at him.
Teighlar burst out laughing. “My god, that is actually quite possible!”
“What is?” Torrullin asked, entering.
He immediately garnered undivided attention.
“Where is Elianas?” Sabian smirked.
“Elianas has waited long for this; he needs more time.” Torrullin closed in, found a seat and loaded a plate. “Aaru, I’m hungry.”
“Is he all right?” Quilla asked.
“You know how it is to wait interminably, Q’li’qa’mz.”
Formality, was it? Quilla inclined his head. “I guess forgetting was easier.”
“Yes. It’s remembering that’s a bitch.” Torrullin started eating and repeated, “What is quite possible?”
Sabian explained about the notes and it drew a reluctant smile.
Tianoman demanded, “Well, is he right?”
Torrullin shook his head and went on eating.
“Man of many words,” Teighlar murmured.
“Is it true, about Elianas and the Throne?” Teroux asked.
Torrullin glanced at Caballa. “You told them - it’s fine. It is a small secret. Yes, it’s true. However, Elianas is not the Throne and did not influence past choices. Like Neolone, he discovered the means to hide while connected to Valla longevity.”
“That must have been terrible,” Dechend said.
Torrullin nodded.
Dechend went on, “My Lord, while I have your attention …”
“It is all right. I was too hasty earlier.”
“As was I. Thank you, my Lord.”
Torrullin inclined his head. “I remain friend to your people, Dechend, always.” He then fixed his gaze on Caballa. “I am waiting.”
Tristan frowned.
She burst out, “How could you treat Saska like that?”
“I tried to be kind.”
“Kind?” Caballa spat.
“Yes. What comes next will hurt her too much.” He tossed a half-eaten apple down. “I am sick of being dissected, thus I am saying this only once. Stop. Asking. Questions.” He bit the last three words out, one by one.
Silence.
He pushed his plate away and stood. He looked them over.
“I am not the person I was and tomorrow I may not be the man I am today. We leave at first light, heading further west.” He tossed a napkin down. “I hate this fucking city.”
He strode away, heading out into the night.
Chapter 53
Men stride through emotions like marauders, and as uncaring. The unfeeling will hurt … when they least expect it.
~ Arli of Pendulim
Time Realm
A SOMBRE GATHERING LEFT the city in the morning.
Rain fell during the night, but the freshly washed flowers sparked no uplift in mood.
The presence of ghostly dark Valleur about the daily business of life was sobering as well. All there wished to hear their voices just once.
Torrullin was in the lead and chose a narrow street parallel to the main thoroughfare. Elianas did not join them; no one dared ask where he was.
They headed west and, as they left the last cottages behind, Maple appeared. He fell into step beside Torrullin. “The Syllvan send greeting.”
Torrullin inclined his head.
“They add they judged a long time ago and they protected time. Apparently you will know what that means.”
“I do, thank you.”
Maple walked a few paces and then understood Torrullin would not ask. “She returned to Akhavar.”
“I thought as much.”
“She said she will give an answer when you return.”
Torrullin nodded. “Good.”
Maple scratched at his head. “I have news from Digilan.”
Torrullin looked at him for the first time.
“The Syllvan heard insistent knocking at the portal point, and granted me an hour. My Lord, Tymall sends words for your ears alone.”
The others listened in, and Tianoman hastened forward.
Torrullin said, “Tianoman, if there is something to share, I shall do so.”
Tristan took hold of his cousin. “Hold up, Tian.”
Torrullin lengthened his stride and Maple kept pace. “What news?”
“The five stones. He says you must rid yourself of them.”
“Why?” Torrullin sent him a look of astonishment. Tymall was the one who gave them to him by a convoluted route, and now he sought to alter the nature of the gift?
“They sing to the stones everywhere. Soon everyone will know what happens here. The Warlock told me specifically about the river, the dragon symbol, even that a dark man kissed you.”
Torrullin halted.
Maple went on. “One more thing. The Senlu know about their Emperor and are in uproar.”
Torrullin pinched the bridge of his nose. “Gods. Anything else?”
“I have a few private words for Tianoman from his father.”
Torrullin waved him off and stood on the spot, deep in thought.
The rest closed in as Tianoman and Maple lagged in conversation.
Torrullin said, “Quilla, Teighlar, wait. The rest of you go on.” He waited until they were alone and then spoke to Teighlar. “
There is trouble in Grinwallin. The Senlu know.”
Teighlar paled. “How, by god?”
Torrullin sighed. “Quilla, hand me the stones.”
The birdman understood. He fiddled and brought forth the pouch. “An unforeseen twist.”
“Indeed.” Torrullin handed it to Teighlar. “That is how they know.”
The Emperor drew it open, and froze. Then, in a voice so loud the others snapped around up ahead, he roared, “How the fuck did you come by these?”
“They were a gift.”
“They are Luvan! They do not belong to you!”
“A Luvan lost them, another found them and they came to me. Now they carry our sorry tale to the entire universe. We must be rid of them immediately.”
Teighlar pulled the pouch closed and pushed it down the front of his tunic. “No.”
Torrullin waited a beat. “I could simply have done so without your knowledge, but I thought you need to know about your people. If those stones go on broadcasting echoes, there will be more trouble. At this point we can sweep most of it away with well-chosen words, but this night we might confront the ancient Valleur. Try and explain that to a jittery universe and try and calm your people after Nemisin’s tale is spread about. Teighlar, there are Valleur and Senlu on Tunin who will make the first move in the name of righteousness.”
“Fuck, damn, hell!” Teighlar shouted. Then he was calm. And thoughtful. “Can Maple take Dechend back to Grinwallin?”
“As soon as you give the word.”
“Thank you. Regarding these stones, what if he took them along?”
A smile. “That works.”
“Good. I take it you return a lost treasure to Grinwallin out of the goodness of your heart?” Teighlar lifted an eyebrow.
A laugh. “Out of the goodness of my heart, yes.”
Teighlar was serious. “My thanks. As you say, you need not have told me.”
“Do you think I would do that to a friend?”
A sigh. “No.”
Maple and Dechend were summoned and were soon on their way. No explanations were given to the others, and Teighlar strode onward, his face expressionless. Peculiar hand movements, however, punctuated his hidden thoughts.
The team walked slowly on as well.
“Well, I guess our Tracloc friend has a few uses,” Quilla murmured.
“And you thought I was making a mistake,” Torrullin said.
“All right, all right,” the birdman muttered.
They hiked on.
THE DAY WORE AWAY and the western road wound around hills and through shallow valleys.
Maple returned, spoke a time with Teighlar, but of Elianas there was no sign.
By nightfall they entered mountainous country and Torrullin called a halt, and promptly left them there.
TRISTAN STARED INTO THE fire, and Caballa left Rose’s side to sit with him.
They had grown closer over the last days and thus she could ask him what was wrong and expect a reply. The reply, as suspected, concerned Torrullin.
“You are now confronted by the enigma,” Caballa said. “It takes some getting used to.”
He rested his head on his knees and arms and looked at her. “Is this how he is?”
“This is the man with too much on his mind.”
Tristan sighed. “I don’t really want to talk about him.”
“You should talk to him.”
“He’s gone.”
“He is up the slope, over there,” Caballa murmured, pointing unobtrusively behind them.
“Are you always aware of him?”
She touched his cheek. “I am a seer, Tris; I see.”
He nodded.
“Go to him,” she prompted, and he untangled legs and arms to rise and slip away.
TORRULLIN HAD A SMALL fire going in the lee of a tumble of great boulders, and lay on a pallet in a depression.
From below they could not see him or his fire.
When Tristan approached he lay with eyes closed, one arm flung over his forehead. Tristan turned to leave, preferring not to disturb the sleeping man.
“I am awake.”
Tristan paused, debated wisdom in speaking, and then entered the small circle of light. He sat and stared at his hands.
Torrullin gathered himself, checked his sword was to hand, and then asked, “Are you hungry?”
“I’m fine. Am I disturbing you?” Tristan looked up.
“Sabian would disturb me, Teighlar would too at this point, but not my grandson.”
Tristan made a face.
Torrullin watched him from under lowered lids. “You wonder now if I am your grandfather. How it fits.”
“Yes and no. I don’t know what to think.”
“I asked Elianas if Millanu was my mother, for how is it possible? We, even those of us with too much time, need to know our roots.”
“Not so it debilitates us, but I guess that is the truth.”
Torrullin gazed into the small blaze. “Millanu is my mother and Taranis is my father. How? That is where my circle closes and reopens. If you want to know how it works, I must disappoint you. However, I was born to my parents and everything you know of me and the last few thousand years remain unchanged. I fathered twin sons and I certainly landed up with you three by a convoluted road. The blood is here, Tristan; do not doubt that.”
A smile. “Good.”
“Yes, it is good. At least something in my life cannot be regretted.”
There was so much lying behind the statement that Tristan knew he could not ask about it. Instead he said, “I know you want no questions …”
“Ask.”
“I don’t know how.”
“And I like your honesty. How am I an Ancient? Is that it? Well, without attempting to explain the science of great curves, it’s like this, I go on from here, on and on, and time feels linear, it always does, and yet it curves back, and one day I tread where I walked before. When I get there I discover few are aware of what was and what will be.” He barked a laugh. “Ignorance is bliss, it really is.”
“And then you are born again?”
“I change state. I was born the once. In the first cycle I underwent the Immortality Ritual. In this cycle I added to that via reincarnation - thus a true immortal. Reincarnation is akin to being born again …” He paused to smile. “And I wondered how it was possible to have my birth body returned despite multiple births. Now I know.”
“Why do it over and over?”
“Mistakes, regrets, knowledge, arrogance, even ignorance. There is no one answer.”
“And us? Were we born in other cycles?”
“No.” Torrullin drew a breath and came to a decision. “You are not to repeat this. In another cycle I saw the Valleur fall into obscurity, and extinction followed. I was not Vallorin - that was the sole province of Vannis’ direct male line. Nemis to Dantian and then Dantian’s son and so forth. There was no Ardosia, no Margus and no Vannis in hibernation. Valaris was a cosmopolitan world where Valleur and human lived together and where Taranis and Millanu safely met, wed and had one son. I was Valla, yes, but nowhere near in line for the Throne. It did not bother me. I went on when others passed away, and then saw the Valleur fail.”
Tristan was wide-eyed.
Torrullin shrugged. “The Torrullin born to this cycle lost his memory and thus was I new, and made different choices and that changed everything.” He sighed and stared into the fire again. “Elianas knew this, he knew - damn it, he knew.”
Tristan was silent and then, “May I ask about him?”
“He is out of bounds.”
Tristan nodded. After a beat he asked, “Will the same happen to me if I live long enough?”
“The curve? Oh, yes.”
“I am not sure I want that.”
“You know more than I did at point of Ritual, Tris, and thus you may make the more knowledgeable choice. If you are uncertain, do not do it.”
“I do not want to die.”
Torrullin smiled. “Neither did I. The dilemma. Know that dying is not ending. There are infinite realms, new roads and new experiences. Had I known before Ritual I might have chosen differently. As it is, when I did know I was furious I allowed it to slip me by, and thus, in arrogance and anger, became a Walker of Realms. I wanted all of it and am now so fragmented to the mazes of time and realm I am no longer real. There are hosts of me, many personas. Tristan, do not do that. Choose wisely. Choose with your head, not your heart.”
“Easier said than done.”
“Don’t I know,” Torrullin said.
“Torrullin, who will be Vallorin?”
Silence ensued, as an answer was debated. “Tianoman.”
Tristan was not surprised. “I thought as much.”
“I told your father when you were a young lad you would be my choice.”
“Really?”
“You have the heart and the will, yes, but you do not want to be tied down, do you?” Torrullin murmured.
“No. It isn’t just the Ritual, however.”
“It is about freedom. I hope you find it.”
“It doesn’t exist?”
“Do not listen to me; I am jaded by time.”
Tristan sighed and sat on in silence.
“Tristan, you did not know her when she was blind; she was a whole person then, never doubting.” He paused when Tristan sent him a masked glance. “I am not stepping into your territory, and know you have not stepped into mine.”
Tristan closed his eyes.
“If she was sightless now, she would know you with her other senses and there would be no confusion. However, a few thousand years blind compared to twenty-six with sight? She appears to cope, and struggles daily. In her eyes we stand too close for distinction; she must trust her eyes, she thinks - others do it.
“Caballa loves me, yes, but it isn’t like that and never was. Our connection was and is based on inner sight, and she has not found that connection to you, because she sees with her eyes. She loves you in the way you hope, and you need to allow her time to trust herself. I know advice can smother relationships, yet I think you needed to hear this.” He paused. “Throw a stone at me now if you want to.”
Lore of Sanctum Omnibus Page 54
