He stopped dead in his tracks.
Give him something to feel, and you lure Elixir out of hiding.
That was a terrifying thought.
Was Elianas causing this to fire Torrullin? To generate the fuel required for return?
Quilla transported instantly to the Dome.
The Dome
“… YOU FOUR GO to Beacon to help with a quarantine facility,” Tristan said as Quilla walked in, and broke off. “Quilla, where were you?”
The birdman marched up to the console. “Tristan, send the word out. The scientists must test for energy deficiency, I think possibly neurological.”
Tristan looked to the Kaval. “Do it and then proceed to your duties as listed. Go.”
They were gone within a minute.
“Why, Quilla?”
“It occurs to me Elianas may be at the source, inadvertently.”
Tristan was silent a beat. “I see - to get Torrullin moving.”
Quilla held a finger up. “If Torrullin is aware he is coerced into action, he may stay away, or Elianas may need him to say in one place. Tristan, he feels what happens, and has not put in an appearance? He would come for this. It could be he is curtailed in transport power.”
“Damn. He may not know it’s Elianas.”
“It may not be, but it is plausible. Then again, if he is aware Elianas tweaks, the game of brinkmanship will keep him in place.”
Tristan was aware of the deeds search. “We must find him, and soon. Anything?”
“I am returning to Drinic now to get into their records.”
“Hell, good luck.”
“I shall be throwing my weight around. I shall let you know.”
Drinic Homeworld
THE ARCHIVES WERE situated underground.
Drinic’s main city, Encor, housed the great facility, and Quilla knew where it was. He did not bother with permission; he transported in. And sneezed in the dust he disturbed.
He was himself disturbed by the state of the archives. Dust lay thick over everything, there were watermarks along the walls and there was the smell of decay. Since the revolution, Drinic went backward.
There was no one inside, no one. It suited him, although it would take longer to find anything, but it was a horrific statement of neglect also. No one cared about the old records.
He moved to a cabinet, which looked as if it could contain an index system. It was locked, but he sorted that out. It was an index, but in such a jumble it made no sense. Swearing, he slammed it closed. He started walking, hoping for a sign that read ‘Deeds’ or some other likely title.
He was astonished when he did, in fact, find a section clearly demarcated as ‘Deeds’. Earlier record keepers were diligent in their work, thank the gods.
Choosing a methodical search over a random one, Quilla started on one side,. He soon realised the deeds were separated into worlds and it occurred to him ancient Drinic could be regarded as the universe’s record keepers, as Titania held knowledge. Titania was maintained, however; this place was a farce. A world per world system helped him nothing, of course. There were many worlds and any one could be the planet Torrullin isolated himself upon.
Fine, Quilla, he told himself as he realised how many ancient worlds Drinic had records for, now it is time to think about this and be logical. It is not Valaris, and in fact Valaris did not feature, being a world too recently settled for these records, and it is not Luvanor, Akhavar or Sanctuary …
He noticed a thick sheaf for Orb, as Sanctuary was called before. Out of curiosity, he looked. A drawing was first, old and brittle, yet it leapt out at him. It was the High King of Orb - owner and ruler of ancient Orb - and it was, definitely, Teighlar of Grinwallin. If ever anyone required proof of who exactly Teighlar was, here it was.
Quilla put it away, knowing he would say nothing, not trusting Teighlar would not at some future date institute a claim on Sanctuary.
Think, he admonished. Torrullin would regard home as a place from previous times. Akhavar was one of those, only not. Which other worlds were once Valleur? Many, he sighed, most settled by humans in later years, and it was overcrowding Torrullin would definitely avoid. Thus, off-the-track worlds. Worlds far flung, abandoned and even uninhabitable, and worlds not discovered by modern society, although known once in the ancient universe.
He hoped it was not the latter.
Pilan? No, Torrullin was not a jungle person. He preferred seasons and variety.
Quilla came to a shelf where each folder was a world’s record, not a shelf per world. Ah, now that was promising. The small worlds, the far flung, the less known.
Pilan was there, empty but for a note that stated they were not to be interfered with. Fortani and Nera were there, but today belonged with the others and required many folders more than these thin ones. Fee? It did not ring a bell, and he pulled it out and found nothing inside. Avaelyn? Now that rang a bell, but he knew the planet was uninhabited and far … he pulled it out and opened it.
And stared down, startled beyond all previous astonishments.
That was where he would find Torrullin. On Avaelyn.
It seemed Torrullin not only owned land on Avaelyn; he owned the entire planet. Torrullin possessed the right to start a civilisation and rule it according to his whim. Torrullin had more political clout than anyone dreamed of. Gods.
Quilla lifted the single sheet in the folder. Torrullin Agripson Valla. There was his signature and there was the dragon seal, the one from the ring he always wore and no one ever saw, for it required magic to bring to sight.
He replaced the document, closed the file, and left, taking it with him.
Chapter 35
A piece of paper is not always scrap.
~ Political comment
Avaelyn
IT WAS SUMMER and this day epitomised the season.
It was hot, breathless and still. Torrullin sat with his feet in the rock pond where a huge oak shed shade enough to cool him, wearing nothing but a loincloth. Beside him lay papers, ink and quills, but it was too hot to write. He was in deep thought, however, planning his next move.
That was where Quilla found him.
He came to a halt. Torrullin was too thin, but his unhealthy pallor was tanned over. He seemed agitated within, yet his body was calm, and that was a contradiction ever-present in the man.
Quilla, for the first time in Torrullin’s presence, felt like an intruder. He felt even more so when those silvery eyes turned on him without expression.
“You found me.”
The birdman approached, waving the folder. He handed it over.
Torrullin accepted it and looked inside. “Ah, I wondered where I could find a copy. This, the original, will do. Thank you. Sit.”
“I found it on Drinic.” Quilla sat, folding his hands in his lap. “Am I intruding?”
“A few days you ago you would have been, but not now. I meant to call you tonight.”
“Has something changed?”
A wry smile, and Torrullin set the folder atop his papers, thereby hiding what he had written. “The only constant is change, is it not? Even here, in the back of beyond, it comes.”
“Are you all right?”
“All right? No, I doubt that.”
“What has changed?”
“Purpose. There is an illness out there requiring my attention. And that is why you came.”
“Not that alone, but it is a priority, yes.”
“Tell me how bad it is.”
Quilla collected his thoughts and then quietly related what he knew.
Torrullin nodded afterward. “Thus sense is made. I wondered why I should bother if Sanctuary has the facilities. We need a quarantine world, and I have chosen a landing site and a place to erect a makeshift facility.” He eyed the birdman. “I am thinking a Mercy Ship or two, crystal powered along with a device I invented to aid it to swifter speed. I was thinking beyond this disease to other ailments.”
Quilla swirled his tongue a
round. “You aim to be healer?”
“It seems the only way to retrieve my transport abilities.”
“I suspected you were curtailed.”
“A void, this time of my design. In withdrawing Elixir, a hole formed to allow suffering to concentrate. I am not being altruistic in attempting to right it; I want this phase to pass. This is akin to the shadowlands for me. That landing zone will be temporary and no facility will last more than a year. Elixir will periodically make his presence known in the future to avoid a repeat of this situation, but once fixed, Avaelyn closes her skies again.” He tapped the folder. “You see I have the right.”
Quilla nodded. He wanted to discuss curtailment, explain he thought it might be due to Elianas, as this disease could be, but realised Torrullin was not ready. Torrullin had focused, and it would have to do.
Torrullin drew his feet from the water. “Come, I have papers you can take back with you.” He retrieved the folder and his notes, and headed up the curving path into his home.
Quilla followed and was soon entranced by the beautiful dwelling. Yes, this was exactly like him.
He found Torrullin behind a desk in a library, a silk robe flung over his nakedness.
“How old is this place?”
Torrullin looked up briefly. “I built it in the first backtrack, a few years before Elianas came.”
That old, by god. “It lasted through all the ages?”
“I believe Elianas might have something to do with it.”
Ah, he was not so unaware. Quilla looked at the books. “You raided the cottage, I see.” He pointed at the man’s chest. “And you wear that again.”
Torrullin touched the Medaillon. “It may aid Elianas.”
Quilla paced forward and Torrullin created an addition chair. He smiled his appreciation and sat. “Torrullin, before we get to Mercy Ships and healing, there is something else I must share with you about Elianas.”
A blank stare. “I do not want to discuss him.”
“This comes from the Syllvan.”
“That is how you tracked me. Clever. Fine, say what you must.”
Quilla mentally braced; Torrullin was like a stranger. “Elianas lost his energy and thus lost himself …”
“I know.”
“Not matter, Torrullin, not soul - energy. He doubted his longevity in the Path, and lost his energy. He was and is a true immortal.”
A muscle twitched in Torrullin’s face. “Go on.”
“He is not dead. He is lost.”
A blink.
Quilla went on. “He is not in a realm and has not been released out into reality somewhere. Energy requires fuel to restart.”
“Fuel I have now found. I see. I am his fuel.”
“Then you must realise he will be back.”
Torrullin stared at his desk for long, silent minutes. “I hoped so, but hopelessness lay in how long I would wait. Hoping is not the same as knowing, however.” He looked up. “Knowing he will come back, returns hope to a long wait. I shall wait, however long it takes.” He gave a strange smile. “Well, so Elianas is the barrier I cannot pass through. Energy to energy. How poetic of him.”
“Torrullin …”
“Let us move on,” came the brisk interruption. “Here,” and he passed papers over, “is the trajectory I allow entering ships, and the co-ordinates are there also. This place, my home, will be shielded from every side and will give off no signature. I have placed a beacon at the site I intend to do the healing; use that for future magical transports. No one, no one, comes near my home. You are sworn to secrecy.”
Quilla nodded. “What of your grandsons?”
“The beacon. This place is for Elianas.”
“I have intruded.”
“I have allowed it, and it will not happen again.” He passed more papers. “This is the design for the device to increase speed; have Tristan put the Valleur onto it.” He passed another sheet over. “This releases valuable goods and artefacts from the safe under the Keep - give that to Yiddin - and I grant the right to sell the items. Use the proceeds to buy as many ships as you can, as well as pay for the required crew. If it isn’t enough, tell me. Crystal propulsion, Quilla. That device will not work on anything else.”
Quilla was impressed. “You have been planning.”
“Dreams tend to spur one. Now. I need strong men and machinery to prepare the landing area, and I need builders to erect shelters. I need you to choose them for me.”
“Valleur?”
“Preferably.”
“I shall see to it.”
“Thank you.” Torrullin rose and gestured for Quilla to follow him. “This enterprise will take time, time folk no longer have. Spread the word and if any can get here on their own, they will be welcome.”
“We could transport the worst in.”
“Fine, and bring tents and food also.”
Quilla nodded and followed the man into the cavern kitchen.
“You cannot ferry everyone, thus I have prepared a potion to put people into a kind of stasis.” He bent behind the counter and brought forth a stoppered bottle. “A drop only. Anymore and you kill them. Those close to death must receive this and when a ship is ready, bring them first. I will wake and heal simultaneously.” He handed the bottle over and Quilla accepted it gingerly. He added a number of extra vials. “Again, if it is not enough, let me know.”
Quilla nodded.
Torrullin smiled at him. “Time heals wounds, my friend. Eventually I will be fine again.”
Quilla returned the smile.
“Make it known nobody gets to stay on Avaelyn once healed. Every ship has a turnaround period of twenty-four hours, and all who come, must again leave.”
“You need people to help you, Torrullin, if only in pushing wheelchairs and trolleys.”
Torrullin bit out an oath.
“Be reasonable, my friend.”
“Will you help?”
“I would be honoured, yes.”
“Fine, Q’li’qa’mz, you and five others - you choose - but keep them away from me. I have not the time to be sociable, or the patience. Agreed?”
Quilla inclined his head.
“I expect the first batch by morning. I guess that means you have much to do before then.”
Quilla took the hint. “Till morning.”
With bottle and papers, he left.
The Dome
TRISTAN WAS ALONE in the Gatherer’s Circle.
Quilla wasted no time. “I found him and I have spoken to him.”
Tristan sighed over the console, offering up a prayer of thanks to the deities.
“Tristan, we have work to do, tons of it, and we have …” Quilla quickly calculated, having to allow for various time zones, “… eighteen hours to do it in. First,” and he handed over the papers, “look at these. Torrullin has cleared items for sale to buy spaceships, and then he has designed a device to speed those ships. There is trajectory in there and co-ordinates, and a beacon is established to call to us who can transport.”
Tristan paged through it and then looked up. “What are you saying?”
“Mercy Ships, and until they are ready to fly, we ferry the sick to him. This,” and he lifted the bottle, “will place the near death into stasis until he can heal them, a drop only.”
“He aims to do the healing?”
“Yes, freely offered. He already knew.”
“Why doesn’t he come here?”
“Because he is as stuck as we thought, and we should also remove the ill from the healthy. That is the fastest way to halt the spread of the disease.”
“Where is he?”
“Avaelyn.”
“Avaelyn? Isn’t that way out?”
“Yes, therefore the device.”
Tristan stared down. “I must get this to the Valleur.”
“The power of attorney is to go to Yiddin.”
“This will take time.”
“Delegate Shenendo to buy ships and find crews; he
can liaise with Yiddin as to funds. Put Erin and Jimini on collecting wheelchairs and the like. You and I, we need speak to Teroux about desperate cases, and with Tian about strong men to level a landing site, and builders for shelters. We need tents and food until the facility is running, and I need five others to help me help Torrullin as of said eighteen hours. And someone needs to dispense those drops. We have work to do.”
“Gods, he figured all this out?”
“Let us just say this is the fire that will return Elianas to him, and once that happens he will be better.”
“How is he?”
“Different. Do not try to be a grandson this time; be Kaval leader with him.”
“Has he a home on Avaelyn?”
“He must have, but I did not see it,” Quilla said, lying with a straight face and heavy heart.
“The deed?”
“He has it. Tristan, he is owner of Avaelyn the world, not just the land.”
“Good god.”
“Therefore the trajectory. No one is to fly outside of it and no one may remain for longer than twenty-four hours. Except myself and the five who will be helping.”
“Count me as one.”
“I thought you might, and I am glad.” A pause. “Caballa should come. She knows how to get through to him.”
“Fine. Not that I can stop her.”
“And Belun.”
Tristan squinted at the birdman. “It sounds like you are gathering a team to tackle him.”
“Yes, but it will not be easy.”
“Then Fuma also. That man’s wisdom will be helpful.”
“That is four. One more. Teroux is needed here and Tianoman is Vallorin, and maybe it is better they do not see him as he is now. I would suggest Lowen, but she has duties, and the sight of her may spur him to do something stupid. She will remind him of Saska. Who do you suggest?”
“Someone with a fresh perspective, someone not linked to him. I don’t know yet.”
“Fine. You go to Tian; I will go to Teroux. Bring the builders and men back to the villa. They can help with transporting sick over … what?”
Lore of Sanctum Omnibus Page 96
