Lore of Sanctum Omnibus

by Elaina J Davidson

  “He is right.”

  “Torrullin would come after us, Tian.”

  “I know. Let me think about it.”

  “Fine. I promised Caballa I would be there when she wakes. Go talk to your delegation and we’ll meet up tomorrow - say, lunch?”

  “Your place,” Tianoman agreed.

  Menllik

  SWINGING TOGETHER on the hanging seat later, Caballa under Tristan’s arm, they discussed what she had seen.

  It was late afternoon, and cold. The sun hid behind dark clouds.

  “There was no light beyond the door and I don’t know how they got out, but they did. The next sight was of them enveloped in green denseness. Saska couldn’t cope and Declan nearly drowned. Torrullin and Elianas had to breathe for them.”

  “They retain that power, at least.”

  “Biological, not magical, a product of immortality.” She squirmed against him. “You will find yourself in such a place one day and then know what I mean.”

  He nodded, his chin bumping her head. “But it is an advantage.”

  “Thank Aaru, yes.”

  “They found food on the island?”

  “We must believe so, for it is an interlude island.”

  “The body is resilient, Caballa.”

  “Even someone as tough as Torrullin can’t function long. The body can cope with no food, but no water?”

  “There is water, and all are immortal.”

  “Will there be water tomorrow? Declan shouldn’t come close to drowning, or Saska, especially Saska with her gills. They will succumb and Elianas and Torrullin will suffer.”

  “And beyond that?”

  “Squares of darkness, like dice rolled into a great vacuum. I have tried to look inside, but they defy sight. I cannot fathom purpose.”

  “Do they enter?”

  “There are four squares and they enter, one to each, but it isn’t by choice. I don’t see them come out again. It’s dark to me from there.” Caballa made a despairing sound in her throat and his arm tightened around her.

  “Do you see a way to get in?”

  She craned her head up. “Don’t even think it. You would be as lost as they are.”

  “Is there a way?”

  In a flurry of movement she disengaged and stood, setting the seat to swing askew, and faced him. “Now listen to me. Will you listen?”

  He stopped the crazy motion by setting his feet firmly to the deck. “I will listen.”

  “I know now where unbalance resides, and it’s always there. We never get to know it as separate, for we have the opposites sharing, a status quo we rarely remark upon, but it has a separate place, as balance does. We and all others dare not enter that place. Tris, immortal or not, there is only death there - it is unbalance, after all. Not death that leads to a new journey, not death as a gateway to the netherworld, but death in unbalance, in nothingness. This is an eternal suffering we cannot comprehend.” She drew a shaking breath. “Torrullin and Elianas will survive, but the manner of their survival is potentially damaging. Saska and Declan - I pray they make it out. Goddess, hear me, for I beg it.”

  “Where is it, Caballa?” Tristan whispered. “Tell me.”

  “You would use it to find them!”

  “Torrullin would brave anything for me.”

  “But you are not Torrullin.”

  He looked away.

  “Tristan, I am not disparaging you,” Caballa said, “and I do not deny your talents.” He refused to look at her, and she put her hands on both sides of his face and forced him to. “They are within the Path of Shades, my love, where only Elixir dares go, and Elianas, who is Elixir by another name.”

  He blanched.

  She sighed and released him. Turning, she leaned on the rail, staring out. “True unbalance resides in the Path. Balance does also, but that it not where they are.”

  He joined her at the rail. “How?”

  “Imagine a cylinder of water and secured inside is a thin straw, also filled with liquid. The water in the cylinder is unhealthy, but wouldn’t kill upon taste. The water inside the straw is poisonous, and the two don’t mix. An ant trapped inside the straw, he knows a chance at survival lies beyond the thin membrane, if only he could get to it.” She closed her eyes. “The cylinder and everything in it is the Path of Shades and the straw is the unbalance within. Our four friends are trapped inside the straw.”

  Tristan breathed unevenly.

  “The answer referred to on the Avior door is the answer to breaking out of the straw and mixing the poison with the rest of it, thereby diffusing its destructive properties. Balance has already been stirred in, now unbalance must join the equation to create neutrality.”

  “I understand.” Tristan hung his head.

  A long silence ensued and the day darkened further into evening.

  “Is there a way in?”

  Caballa stared at him.

  “Caballa, if there’s a way in, there is a way out. That is all I want to know.”

  She studied him. He was lying. “In unbalance there is no entrance and exit.”

  “There has to be, or your equation cannot work.”

  “Then why ask?”

  “Because I want to sleep tonight!” he burst out, digging his hands into his hair.

  That was truth, but not all of it. “What are you planning?”

  “Nothing,” he muttered, dropping his hands.

  She blinked, and then she knew. “Gods, no, Tristan, no. Not Digilan. You cannot.”

  He swung to her. “What is it?”

  “It’s a trap! I had a vision before this happened, before the Time realm, of you taking Torrullin’s guise to enter Digilan. You want them to believe you are a Walker and there is a fair man who helps you, but it’s a trap.”

  He stared at her. “Tian. He’s going to help.”

  She drew breath. “Of course it must be him. Warlock’s son, and now with the power of the Throne.”

  Tristan took her arm and shook it. “You had better tell me more.” Then he caressed that arm. “Sorry, that was rough. Let us go inside, let us talk this through.”

  She deflated, as if her world was coming to an end. “Very well. Call Tian; he needs to hear this.”

  “He is coming for lunch tomorrow.”

  “By then your mind will be set. Call him now.” She entered the cottage and a light came on.

  Tristan stood a few minutes longer … and sent the call.

  “Is this the vision the Syllvan told you to check?” he asked, having followed her in.

  “Yes, and I did. I saw nothing. All visions were gone.”

  Caballa moved into the dining room and switched lamps on. Pools of light fell over the redone floor, the plain walls and round table. Six chairs were spaced around it. She pulled one out and sat with her hands folded on the surface.

  “What did you see before?” Tristan pulled a chair out opposite her and sat.

  “Why do you sit there?”

  “Because you are going to lecture me.”

  Her lips twitched.

  “Shouldn’t you check now to see if it’s changed?”

  “I have, as I walked in. It remains the same. I think I was told to check so we would know visions had ceased.” She frowned. “Did you call Tian?”

  “Here,” Tianoman said, entering.

  Caballa rose and bowed. “My Lord Vallorin.”

  He smiled at her. “That still feels strange, especially coming from you. Sit, Caballa. Tris, we agreed tomorrow. The Beaconites were disappointed by my abrupt departure.” He pulled a chair out and sat beside his cousin.

  “What did they want of you?” Tristan sidestepped.

  “You will not believe this. They wanted a dedicated team of Valleur gardeners to move trees and plants, they said, from affected sites.”

  Tristan raised an eyebrow. “Shows commitment on their part and it’s an excellent idea.”

  “Agreed, and I will discuss it further with the Elders. Of course, they wa
nt us to share some of the risk also, put up some capital.” Tianoman grinned. “I hope I wasn’t too rude in my refusal.”

  Tristan grinned.

  Tianoman glanced at Caballa. “Are you feeling better now?”

  “Yes, my Lord.”

  “You hardly ever called my grandfather by his title, and I would you do the same for me, at least in private.”

  She smiled. “Tian.”

  “Better!” Then Tianoman was serious. “You would not have called had it not been urgent.” He waited pointedly.

  Caballa glanced at Tristan, who said, “It’s about Digilan.”

  “Hmm, and I thought you would know not to tell anyone,” Tianoman muttered.

  “I tried, but with a seer in the house …” Tristan spread his hands.

  “Tian, it’s a trap,” Caballa said. “I had a vision the night after we found Samuel, of Tristan in the land of mists, with Mor Feru and Tracloc in those mists. He was mistaken as a Walker, as Torrullin, and a fair man stood in the vision, someone Tristan trusts. Torrullin shared the vision with me and didn’t recognise the fair man. Perhaps because I saw the man you are now, Tian. The Throne has altered your signature.”

  Tianoman inclined his head. “Why do you think it’s a trap?”

  “It was too quiet, as if Tristan was to believe there was no danger, as if someone needed him to enter Digilan. Who that is, I cannot say, but it is Torrullin who is expected, and Tristan deliberately misleads.”

  Tianoman glanced at his cousin. “We talked about duping the Syllvan into thinking you are Torrullin.”

  “I know,” Tristan muttered.

  Tianoman looked again at Caballa. “Who did you think set the trap, on first viewing?”

  She pulled a face. “Tymall.”

  Tianoman shook his head. “No way.”

  “Torrullin denied it also.”

  “He would. You should have seen them together. Tymall - my father - wouldn’t seek to harm his father.”

  Caballa nodded. “I believe that now, yes.”

  “Do you still feel another sets a trap for Torrullin? Caballa, I ask you to look carefully.” Tianoman leaned forward. “Samuel had just been discovered and emotions were askew. You and Torrullin had reunited, and you were naturally protective of him. Please check.”

  Tristan frowned, not liking that she was asked to enter a vision, but she nodded and closed her eyes. He dared not interfere, although he glared at his cousin. Tianoman did not notice, for he watched Caballa intently.

  Her eyes moved behind her eyelids and she sat frozen for long minutes, checking as bid. She opened her eyes and stared first at her hands on the table before looking up. “The Syllvan were right. It has changed.”

  Tristan stretched his hand over the table and she took it, gripping hard.

  “How to put this?” She looked at Tristan. “Had I revealed the vision to you at the time, it would have been akin to revealing a prophecy, giving you foreknowledge, and you would have put it to the test.”

  “Maybe not.”

  “Yes. You are Valla, and Vallas are ruled by fate and telling. You would want to see whether I saw true, but you would not have been ready.”

  She moved her free hand in a sweeping motion upon the table, back and forth, as if wiping at non-existent dust.

  “The Syllvan know of this vision, original and altered. You cannot dupe them, but if you ask, they will permit entry and aid you in the disguise of your grandfather.” She forced her hand into stillness. “Back then it would have been a trap, for the Void hadn’t yet come into its own. Time was playing tricks, and it was Sabian at your side, pushing you towards Digilan.”

  “Why?” Tianoman asked.

  “Tymall possessed vital information for his father and Sabian needed Torrullin to hear it. He was pushing to get the Time realm into action. Torrullin, of course, entered freely with you, thereby negating any trap.”

  “But it did not negate Tristan as Torrullin standing before Digilan.”

  “And you are at his side now.”

  “Is it still a trap?” Tristan asked.

  “Not in the sense of someone pushing, no,” Caballa admitted. “The trap is in your mind.”

  Tianoman flicked a quick frown, and Tristan asked, “How?”

  “Take on the guise of a Walker and certain expectations must be met. Digilan will test you.”

  He pulled his hand from hers and laced his fingers behind his head, leaning back in his chair to stare up.

  “It may not come to that,” Tianoman murmured. “Not if I go in as guide.”

  “You are Vallorin, Tian!” Caballa blurted. “Digilan will pounce on you, Warlock’s son or not. You are a bargaining tool such as they could never again expect in a thousand ages.”

  “No one touches Torrullin.”

  “Torrullin is Elixir, Dragon, Walker, Lifegiver, Destroyer and a host of other unnamed things. He is also Ancient, original, of Time itself. No one touches Torrullin, for they fear him. Lumin kindred fear him and darak fallen fear him as much. Forgive me, but you are not Torrullin.”

  Tristan’s hands came down. “Digilan will think I am.”

  She leaned forward. “Digilan tests Torrullin every time, and then retreats when it finds no chink in his armour. Every time, Tristan. It will test you … and then?”

  “The trap, then, is in believing I can be like Torrullin, not merely appear as him. I see.” Tristan looked away.

  Tianoman pushed up from his chair. “I begin to understand why you called. You need to change his mind.” She nodded, and he went on. “Has he a choice? Is a vision seen not a glimpse of the future?”

  “Of course, but it can be altered.”

  Tianoman leaned upon his hands on the table to look intently at her. “But we do not believe in coincidence, do we? Why is it Tristan has this thought to find a Tracloc in Digilan at the time our grandfather most particularly could use one? A thought that matches a vision of future you already possess? Coincidence, Caballa, or is this how it is meant to be?”

  Tristan glanced at his cousin. “Gods, Tian, you reason like a Vallorin.”

  He blinked and grinned. “Thank you.”

  “What are you saying, cousin?”

  Tianoman sat and pondered. “I think, if a Tracloc can help, we go in and get one. But,” he amended, “first we satisfy ourselves there is a way to get to Torrullin and the others, and we need be absolutely certain he needs our help.”

  “You heard what Caballa saw!”

  “I did, and Caballa admits a future can be altered,” Tianoman said reasonably, “and if anyone is capable of altering things, it is Torrullin. What may appear dangerous to us, may not be so hard for him to overcome.”

  Caballa said, “You do reason like a Vallorin.”

  “I am flattered you both think so,” Tianoman said, “but I am also disappointed you obviously doubted before. I am Vallorin, know that, and do not question it again.”

  Caballa bowed.

  Tristan shook his head. “Come, Tian, we didn’t mean anything.”

  Tianoman stared at him.

  Tristan blinked. He rose and bowed. “Forgive me, my Lord Vallorin, and know I do not doubt.” He lifted his head. “I just kind of forget that my cousin is Vallorin.”

  Tianoman smiled. “Bugger off.”

  Tristan laughed and sat.

  “Tian has a point,” Caballa murmured. “Torrullin has been in odder situations.”

  “And Saska and Declan?”

  She looked away. “For them the danger is real.”

  “How long can they last?” Tianoman demanded.

  “No more than ten days.”

  “Then we have three days to question the likelihood of an exit-entrance, four for Digilan and three to get them out. Tristan, you need Quilla. I must go. Let us meet for breakfast in the morning, at the Keep.” He smiled at Caballa and was gone.

  “You are going to do this despite what I say?” Caballa asked of Tristan.

  “If necessary, y
es.”

  “Then you’re as fatidic as your grandfather,” she whispered, and left the dining room.

  TRISTAN COULD NOT SLEEP.

  He lay in bed beside Caballa and when he closed his eyes, he saw the ant trapped in the straw. Four ants. She breathed rhythmically, but he thought it a ploy to help him sleep, for he doubted she found it easy to rest.

  After another hour of staring at the dark ceiling and listening to the unchanging breathing beside him, he said, “Stop it, just stop it.”

  Breathing ceased and Caballa rolled over to face him. She put a hand on his chest. “Sorry.”

  He put his hand over hers. “I do not like pretence.”

  “And you lied to me today.”

  He turned onto his side and lifted up on one elbow. A faint glow from the light outside touched outlines. “Sorry,” he echoed.

  She reached up to pull his head nearer. “Come here.”

  They kissed and then again with rising intensity until all thoughts fled and sensation took over.

  Later, they managed to sleep.

  The Keep

  QUILLA JOINED THEM for breakfast. “Lowen’s translation of the glyphs states there is no exit and entrance.”

  “Torrullin said an exit was likely because an entrance was prepared,” Caballa said.

  “Knowing Torrullin, he will tear through the fabric somehow.”

  “Not without magic,” Tristan murmured.

  Quilla patted his mouth with a napkin and pushed his plate aside. “Torrullin does not need magic.” He put his napkin down. “He needs only Elianas.”

  “For?” Tristan demanded.

  “Elianas has a power that cannot be removed. If Elianas plays open cards, they can use it to get out.”

  Caballa shivered. “Will Elianas tell?”

  “That would be the dilemma,” Quilla murmured. He pointed at Tianoman. “Son, I know you have power now, but you dare not enter Digilan. Digilan is stronger; only Torrullin could be at ease there. Your father, Tian, is equal to the challenge also. The day approaches when you will be, but not yet. I am a friend only, and may thus ask you do not do this, and hope you will hark to my wisdom.”