They remembered Lowen. Both turned heads to find her.
She picked herself up. “Now I see why you needed me.”
Lowen sauntered over and kneeled alongside them. She leaned in to claim Torrullin’s lips gently, touching his face, and then drew back with a smile, and leaned in to kiss Elianas as well. Both men responded.
She drew back. “There, now I have joined the conspiracy. Shall we go on from here?”
Elianas grinned.
Torrullin managed a rueful laugh, and stood. Extending a hand each to Lowen and Elianas, he drew them up.
Lowen dusted at her knees and eyed them critically. “You look like you’ve been in a fight. You can’t go wandering around like that.”
They snapped fingers simultaneously, and both were dressed.
Ah, yes, she thought, two enchanters also.
Elianas held his power in reserve during the journey through Time, until Torrullin remembered his past. Then, a thought - neither needed the other for healing.
They came close this day, too close.
KNOWING A NETWORK of sites existed meant it could be felt. There were now faint tugs at the subconscious, although without definition and direction; on Ceta also, a world chosen from a proverbial hat for a showdown, and thus they transported to a statue of an angel in a forest.
“Cetans were more comfortable with religious figures,” Elianas said.
He frowned at the angel, not liking it. He always felt statues of angels and cherubs were no more than a soothing device. Akin to a lie.
“Likely,” Torrullin said, and moved away. “There is nothing to learn here.” He did not like the angel either.
“Has our focus changed? We intended to track history of others; are we now tracking the net?” Elianas demanded.
“Gods, how can we not?”
Lowen now knew of the ancient connection between worlds. “It seems to me early history will have a Valleur connection - any world.”
Elianas muttered, “It feels like more of the same.”
“It isn’t,” Torrullin said. “Cassiopin isn’t written into history that made it through time. Whatever we uncover now is different.”
“What has Nemisin’s daughter to do with this?” Lowen questioned. “I thought we’re tracking some universal net.”
Elianas flicked her a glance, but focused on Torrullin rather than answering her. “Purpose, Torrullin?”
“You were the one mouthing off about purpose. Well, here it is at our fingertips.”
Elianas studied him. “Difference can lead to a whole lot of crap this time.”
“It always does.”
“True.” Elianas pointed at the statue. “If we are tracking the net, and this is a point on it, then we owe this due consideration.”
“You do not like angels.”
A quick grin lightened his sombre expression. “Neither do you. Still, why was an angel placed here in the woods, and not a fountain? This suggests a Lifesource site is not automatic to connect the grid.”
Torrullin murmured, “We ask someone.”
“You can’t ask, for Aaru’s sake,” Lowen said. “You’ll scare Ceta’s leaders. And they won’t know anyway.” She stood arms akimbo. “You can be so dumb. Did you not say this net thing maintains past, present and future, a heritage through time?”
“Yes. So?”
“Torrullin, the past is with us here. Examine it.”
“We prefer words. We have had our fill examining the past,” Elianas said.
Lowen arched an eyebrow. “Please, you do it every time you look at each other. And memory, tales and legends aren’t always true. If you want to know what happened, do it my way.”
Elianas folded his arms.
Torrullin approached the fountain to lay his hands upon the angel and closed his eyes. He frowned when he opened them. “This is six thousand years old. It was built after the Valleur used the Rift to Ardosia.”
“The net grows independent of Valleur rulership,” Lowen suggested.
“Which begs the question; where are these site masons coming from?” Elianas muttered.
“Ceta underwent upheaval six thousand years ago,” Torrullin went on. “Drought, malnutrition, starvation, and the angel was erected to beg of their god an end to the suffering. A sculptor was engaged.”
“Valleur, I assume,” Lowen said.
“This site is more like the Round Temple on Valaris,” Torrullin murmured.
“Purity of heart, I see,” Elianas murmured. “How long before Ceta turned around?”
“Within a year it rained, crops were harvested and people on the road to recovery.”
Elianas placed his hand over the spot where the angel should theoretically have a heart. “Not just a net of worlds, but reaching out to people in time of need.”
“Something Cassiopin would have insisted upon,” Torrullin said. “Ensnare, yes, remind, yes, but know she also forgave.”
Elianas leaned his forehead on the angel. “I hope so.”
Lowen also knew how to read the nuances. “Oh. Elianas, I am sorry.”
He shrugged.
Torrullin shook his head at her, and she took the hint. Torrullin sat at the base of the statue. “When have we last slept?” He slid down further, pillowed his head on his arms and promptly fell asleep.
Elianas smiled over him and glanced at Lowen.
“It was evening on Sanctuary when I left. Sun or no sun, I could sleep.” She lay on the cushioning pine needles and closed her eyes.
Elianas moved to a point where temptation could be still.
Sleep was elusive.
SHOUTS AND SCREAMS assaulted them, tore through the spaces, the tug and shove of uncaring hands. It was night, but Ceta was never dark due to its multiple moons. There was, however, nothing to be seen.
Elianas crawled to Torrullin. “Restless spirits,” he whispered.
Lowen came from the other side. “They’re not real, just sound.”
A hazy form leaned over her, and she screamed.
Torrullin pulled her closer. “They cannot hurt you.”
The form hovered again, and cackled, “Heart of Darkness!”
She clutched at Torrullin and buried her face in his chest.
The form moved to Torrullin, inclined its head this way and then that. “Heart of Darkness!” Then it was at Elianas’ feet. It did a rough pirouette and shouted, “Heart of Darkness!” A floating arm swept the air. “Hearts of Darkness! What have you done to the future? You have meddled!”
An instant later all was silent and undisturbed, except for three hammering hearts.
Torrullin clambered unsteadily to his feet. He put his hands on the statue, and snatched them away. “Gods, that was not there before.”
Elianas touched warily, and hissed, “It’s alive.”
“It has a beating black heart. What does it mean?”
“Curse,” Elianas said.
“I think we should leave,” Lowen said.
“Not without destroying that,” Elianas said.
Torrullin considered. Destroying a sacred site was never healthy, but this region was uninhabited and the statue was an abomination. “Do it.”
Elianas lifted a hand and the angel exploded. “The site itself remains,” he murmured after. He glared at the empty space. “No angels for me, ever.”
“Let us be gone. To the cottage to think this through.”
Elianas inclined his head, gave Lowen his arm, and they were gone.
An insane cackle filled the forest.
Chapter 5
“Does the physical universe actually exist; do tangible objects speak of touch or imagination? Would it not be more accurate to suggest what we feel and how we act and perceive is the creation of everything around us?”
~ In a letter to Nemisin from Lord Sorcerer
Sanctuary
Mariner Island
“IT DID NOT SAY ‘shadows’,” Elianas said, pacing the small space.
The cottage was
made smaller by stacks of books and boxes from the Keep on Valaris, as well as other personal items from the villa on Sanctuary. Tianoman and Teroux clearly followed Torrullin’s direction, and made the Keep and villa theirs, dispatching personal items to this small space. In the bedroom, clothes obliterated the bed.
“The angel had a black heart,” Torrullin said.
“Yes, but it linked us to it.”
“The future is dark at present.”
Elianas frowned. “Heart is not future. There is a message in there; we are overlooking something.”
“We should go to Akhavar,” Lowen suggested.
“No.” Torrullin was irritated. Where Saska was. Gods.
“Yes,” she insisted. “The Chamber of Biers.”
He stared at her. “You have seen it?”
“In a vision. We should go there. This connects to that.”
“Why?” Elianas snapped.
“Because the dead speak,” Lowen responded.
“They bloody do not.”
Torrullin sighed. “There they do, Elianas. Unfortunately. One message each.”
Lowen cleared her throat. “Cassiopin is interred there.”
Elianas swore and sank down as if nerveless. “I do not want to hear anything she has to say. No, I say. Let them lie.”
“If it’s a message you seek …” Lowen said.
“We will not hear just one there. It is not merely Cassiopin we need fear,” Torrullin said. “A host of them wait. Including Nemisin.”
“Torrullin, dare you walk away from this? Something huge waits out there, controlled by an ancient network. Tell me, why is it you felt free of the past, only to go off to find other history, to discover the two are indivisible? Why did you know the various forms of the future and now see darkness? Why not shadows, as Elianas suggested? Did we, in restoring the known present via the Void, in fact tweak so profoundly, there is no future? Is this tangible or do we imagine all of it?”
He glared at her. “I hate it when you are clever.”
She grinned. “No, you don’t.”
“We may be clutching ether here. What if the two are not connected? We would place unnecessary burden on us, and the dead.”
“Heart of Darkness. Certain personalities wait in darkness. There is a parallel.” Lowen shrugged as if to say it was obvious, to her anyway. “I’ve never known you to step away from a challenge.”
“This is more than a challenge,” Torrullin retorted.
“I do not want to hear the dead,” Elianas added.
“Well, I am not doing it without you,” Torrullin said. “We know those people; we listen together.”
“You want to do this?”
“Damn it, I do not, but Lowen makes a point we cannot ignore.”
Elianas leaned against a stack of books. “Fine, but I am beat. Ten days in paradise stressed the hell out of me; yesterday was wearying and today … was today. Sleeping on pine needles to a rude awakening did not help.” He closed his eyes.
Stubborn. And, yes, exhausted.
Torrullin studied him, and stood. Ignoring Lowen, he went to the bedroom and tossed clothes into every available space, and then stood in the doorway.
“Bed’s clear.” He headed for the front door. “I am going to the villa for food.” He left, his footsteps crunching in the snow outside.
Elianas rose and made the bed in time, falling face down into a deep sleep.
Lowen drew a shaking breath. Goddess, the by-play was intense. She crossed over to remove his boots. She tried to get his sword belt off, but found it impossible. Shrugging, she left him there.
TORRULLIN RETURNED A few minutes later with supplies and dumped them in the kitchen. He headed to the bedroom.
“He could have taken his sword off first,” he muttered, and manhandled the sleeping man until he could get it clear. He left the room swiftly.
Lowen watched him wander among stacks of books.
“I could help to get order in here,” she offered.
“A waste of time; I intend moving everything. This mess aids in a decision. I have to do something about it soon.”
“Where to?”
“Somewhere new to call home.”
“You’re different from the man I walked away from ten years ago. Not all of it is due to Elianas.”
He nudged a precarious box into a more secure position. “Lowen, I cannot talk about us now.”
“Clearly.”
He swung around to look at her. “Do you want an apology? Do you need me to say something to explain what happened?”
“I am as much to blame for that disaster as you are. Saska was between us then, as Elianas is now.”
He swore under his breath, and neared. “I did not know it, but I have been fragmenting for centuries - at least - and the rate is increasing. At this point there is simply no safe way to divide myself for you, him and Saska.”
“You have to choose a single heart.”
He blinked. “I dare not.”
“Why not?”
Torrullin moved away. “That answer remains elusive.”
She changed the subject. “Heart of Darkness, what does it mean?”
“No light.”
“For pity’s sake, what does it mean?”
“I do not know, Lowen. I hate not knowing.”
Akhavar
SASKA WAS LISTLESS.
She was without purpose. She wandered among the Valleur taking up residence in the mountain enclave and could not summon a smile for the friendly faces passing her.
Everything that needed doing to restore Akhavar to a functioning world was done, and others would now take it further. There was no Dome for her anymore and she did not have the will to reassume that life anyway. The Lady of Life was no longer her responsibility and neither was being a wife. No husband, no duty, no work - no purpose.
A stir behind her caused her to turn.
The husband she recently released, because he asked her to, had returned? Her heart fluttered, but no. Elianas also. And Lowen. The two points to a new triangle.
No change of heart, then.
They, apparently, had purpose. They strode nearer, greeting Valleur as they went, or Torrullin did. Lowen received side-glances and Elianas was an unknown.
Torrullin came to a halt before her. “Forgive me. I had not intended to return soon.”
“You are welcome here, you know that.” She transferred her smile to Elianas. “As are you.”
Elianas returned the smile. “Thank you, Saska.”
Saska shifted. “Lowen.”
“Saska.”
The two women appraised one another and then both looked away.
Elianas’ lips quirked.
“Why are you here?” Saska asked of Torrullin.
“The Chamber of Biers.”
“After your reaction a few days ago, I expected you to stay away from it.”
Elianas turned his head, a question in his eyes.
Torrullin ignored him. “Matters have changed.”
“Now you want to hear the dead?” Saska frowned.
“Want is too strong a word.”
Saska sighed. “You know where it is.”
He gave a nod. “Yes.” He walked on past with Lowen following.
Elianas hung back.
“What is it?” Saska asked.
“What was his reaction?”
“Like someone punched him in the gut. Why?”
“How long was he in the presence of the dead?”
“A second, two. Elianas …”
“How long can you remain in their presence?”
“I hear mostly echoes, which are disturbing, but I handle them.”
“How long?”
Saska frowned. “I have never stayed more than an hour. Why?”
“He cannot do it, and I doubt I can. Lowen might, but she is unproven. We need you to listen for us.”
She stared at him. “What are you talking about?”
“The dead sp
eak and we must listen.”
“Are you mad?” she whispered.
“I could be if I go in there. Please help us.”
She thought about it, but did not have to think long. Her curiosity was piqued. She headed after Torrullin and Lowen, and Elianas fell in beside her.
“What are you hoping to hear?” she asked.
“Nothing,” Elianas muttered.
“What’s going on?” Saska prompted.
Elianas looked down at her and shrugged. “We had an incident recently. Something called all three of us ‘Heart of Darkness’, like it was a message - what?”
Saska had slowed and then stopped. “Heart of Darkness?”
Elianas inhaled sharply. “You have heard this before?”
“Oh, yes,” she whispered, and set a stiff pace to catch up to Torrullin and Lowen.
Bemused, Elianas went with her.
Torrullin was about to enter the chamber and Elianas called out to halt him. He understood what Saska had to share was of extreme importance.
She marched up to Torrullin. “Heart of Darkness is a term of condition in finding the sterile and lifeless to breathe renewal into it. This is what a Lady of Life does. It is recalling dead things. Torrullin, you go in there to speak to the dead and you bring them back to life.”
Torrullin blanched. So did Elianas.
“Gods,” Lowen muttered.
Saska studied their reactions. “As once Lady of Life I am able to banish something recalled, if it is deemed unfit.”
Elianas’ gaze was stark. “No.”
Torrullin looked at him. “We must know.”
Elianas shook his head, stepping backward. “No, please.”
“Torrullin, not even you can banish someone returned,” Lowen said. “Don’t expect it of him.”
Silence followed, long and profound, before Torrullin said, “What do we do?”
Saska pulled a face. “I have no current Heart of Darkness, therefore I can enter. I could listen for you.”
Elianas nodded, patently relieved.
“Saska, that is stressful,” Torrullin murmured.
“Less so than deciding who is unfit if you enter. How did you come by the Heart?”
“Something in a wood somewhere bestowed it upon us.”
Lore of Sanctum Omnibus Page 66
