Quilla shook his head.
Torrullin let go. “What did you hear?”
“Everything you said on the ledge,” Quilla admitted. He straightened his feathers. “I shall not apologise for coming; now I have seen and heard you, I know you need a mediator.”
“I am not discussing anything with him,” Elianas said to Torrullin.
“Neither am I. Quilla, I suggest you leave.”
“No.” Quilla dug in.
“I shall force you.”
“Try it, Enchanter. Just try it, I dare you.”
“Do not dare me!” Torrullin shouted.
“What was it, Torrullin? A dream betrayal, except only one was asleep? Did Elianas come to you as a lover?”
Torrullin’s hand whipped out to slap, and Elianas caught it. The dark man said, “Not that. You will regret it always. Hit me if you want to hit someone - not him.”
Torrullin closed his eyes. “Quilla, I am sorry.”
His hand was released.
“So volatile, Enchanter. There is nothing to forgive, but you must see I can help, if only by listening. Have I ever revealed a secret of yours? Am I not a friend you are able to trust?”
Elianas leaned against the wall of the passage where they trapped the birdman. “Gods, maybe it is time to share the burden, and step from the shadows. Especially now, when I know you created my shadows … brother.”
Torrullin gave a mirthless laugh. “I hope you are ready for the truth.” He waved a hand. “Your clarity is returned.”
Elianas stared at him and then groaned and slid down the wall. “I was awake also. You took the truth away, because I wanted to kill myself.”
Torrullin sank to his haunches. “You would have died back then.”
Elianas leaned his head back against the stone wall and closed his eyes. He drew breath after breath and remained wordless.
Torrullin studied him and, without looking away, said to Quilla, “I trust you, my friend, but this is between us. It cannot be explained or shared.”
“Let him stay,” Elianas said. He did not open his eyes. “Someone needs to read between our two truths.”
“Why?”
He opened his eyes into Torrullin’s unerringly. “Because it is clouded, Torrullin, that which we perceive most clearly. You were right, I was not ready, but I still refuse to go forward for expediency.” He sat up, leaned closer. “Dream is reality, and reality is more intense, yet it is baggage that has no place in a bed of expediency. If baggage must climb in, then wish and will must be there also.”
“How would Quilla help?”
Elianas smiled. “The birdman is a complete prude. He would be so horrified he would want to be beyond certain we understand what we do, and therefore we would understand.”
“Is that how you want it?”
“No.”
“Why suggest it?”
Elianas stared back, and his pupils dilated with unholy desire, as dream and memory fused and seared through him.
It assailed Torrullin also, and he came close to reaching out, and every consequence be damned.
Quilla, mercifully, was there, and he spoke, not that they heard his words. They jerked as if prodded by live electrical wires, and stared at him blindly. He drew a breath, abruptly aware of the great undercurrent, and stepped between them.
“Get up! And let us sit somewhere where there are many distractions.” He leaned and pulled at Torrullin’s arm. “Get up, Enchanter.” Torrullin, thankfully, rose. Quilla then reached down to Elianas. “Come. We talk now.” Elianas managed to stand. “This way.”
Quilla moved from the entrance to the bedroom.
They did not follow. They moved around each other, not touching, beginning to push at the limits of endurance.
“No expediency,” Torrullin said hoarsely.
“I know,” came a wrenching admission from Elianas.
Quilla’s cherubic face set with anxiety.
They ceased circling and halted within each other’s space, so close only a breath lay between them. Neither moved.
Quilla stalked nearer, blood pressure rocketing up, and pulled at Torrullin. It was a mistake, for he jostled the man into Elianas, who drew the kind of agonised breath to take all oxygen from the spaces. His hands plunged into Torrullin’s hair and Torrullin clawed at him, the two falling against the wall.
Quilla barrelled into them and, with strength a Q’lin’la seldom applied, tore them apart. He shouted, throwing his voice at them. “You cannot surrender!”
They stared over the tiny man at each other. Was he to walk away, nothing would hold them back.
Quilla shook Torrullin. “Look at me!”
Torrullin looked down and Elianas sagged against the wall, closing his eyes.
“I had not realised you two were involved in obsession also,” Quilla said. “Torrullin, talk first. Make me understand, so I may help you.”
Torrullin glanced at Elianas, but the man kept his eyes shut.
“Fine,” Torrullin muttered. “In the kitchen.”
He shuffled after a relieved birdman when Elianas managed to nod.
Chapter 49
What is betrayal, friend?
Loss of trust, friend.
~ Two drunkards in a tavern
Avaelyn
TORRULLIN SAT HEAD in hands at the kitchen table and Elianas was expressionless.
Quilla, making coffee, watched them warily from the other side of the counter.
Torrullin glanced at Quilla. “Throw brandy in, will you?”
The birdman pulled a censorious face, but did as bid, and brought three mugs over. He had poured some of the spirit into his mug also, thinking he needed it.
“All right, you two, start with the betrayal. Get that out of the way first.”
Elianas gestured at Torrullin.
HE HAD FALLEN asleep in the sunshine on the ledge and did not see the storm approach, and also did not realise Elianas threw a pallet alongside him.
Elianas fell asleep after a time, attempting to escape escalating need as he watched the storm near. Always storms set him off.
Torrullin awakened as the storm crackled overhead and saw Elianas twitching in slumber beside him. He understood, and laid his fingers on Elianas’ arm to still him. Perhaps that connection began an ages long cycle, and perhaps comfort was deliberately misread, neither of them now knew, yet touch was felt in Elianas’ disturbed dreams, and gradually they assumed a different character.
Staring up at the roiling heavens, Torrullin was not thinking much when the first tentative touch came at his mind. He frowned, not understanding, but sensed it was Elianas.
He saw the man lying still, breathing shallow, the sleep of dreaming. He understood something more. Elianas was not only dreaming about him, he used the dream to make a connection subconsciously, a deliberate reaching out, thinking his companion was likewise asleep.
Feeling the connection strengthen, he then closed his eyes and surrendered to it, curious as to what form Elianas’ dreaming took.
Elianas was a woman with flowing dark hair, exotic eyes, sultry lips and smooth skin, naked, crouching over him. He resisted, and then could not. In that state of between, he reached out and drew the woman to him, kissed her, surrendered to great pleasure, ran his hands over smooth skin.
His arousal was so complete he entered Elianas’ dream also, going to him likewise as a woman, one of fair hair and complexion, depthless grey eyes. His appearance stirred the man to a frenzy - waking him.
Elianas lay gasping and then turned his head.
Torrullin, aware, looked slowly over.
Elianas rose and, like to the woman in dream ,crouched over him, and was welcomed without resistance. Fully aware, already stimulated by the female form and further aroused by the forbidden nature of what they were doing, they surrendered to pleasure unequalled.
They would have become lovers had not something else entered.
A deep shimmer of pulsing light, a dark glow that co
uld only be seen within - the line between sorcerers. It intruded between sweaty bodies and beating hearts, and pulsed there. For an instant it was terrible agony, and then pain drove pleasure to greater heights.
Torrullin knew it for what it was first, and almost too late.
A thread of sanity pulled at an enchanted mind, and he threw Elianas off.
What happened until then was not betrayal. It was subconscious and then conscious choice. What came next was considered betrayal.
Elianas was beyond the point of return. He clawed and fought his way back, the line tearing at him, seeking dominance, wanting subservience, and would have succeeded had not Torrullin hit him in the gut, following with a blow to the jaw, screaming at him to return to sanity.
He had Elianas subdued on the floor, holding him down, when the man bucked under him and climaxed. Torrullin stared into feral eyes, and was horrified. He was even more disturbed when Elianas freed an arm, a hand, clever fingers, and reached down between them. One touch was all it took, and Torrullin collapsed on him, shuddering.
Elianas snarled his fury and rolled away, his mind lost in horror. He stumbled up onto all fours and then ran. Torrullin picked himself up, filled with fear, and followed. He reached the dark man as he was about to slit his throat, and wrestled the knife from him, and then hit him again and again until no strength remained.
Both fell to the floor somewhere, and Torrullin crawled to him, telling him he would forget what happened, it had not happened, and in the morning they would go on.
TORRULLIN RELATED THE salient points in an emotionless tone, and still Quilla was shocked.
He stared at Torrullin, and then at Elianas.
“In the morning I had not forgotten,” Elianas said. “But I thought it a dream, until Torrullin flinched from me later in the day, a strange expression in his eyes. I asked him what was wrong and he told me he had a dream, he thought I might have entered it.” Elianas shrugged. “It was true, as far as that went, and thus I thought I had betrayed him. Without power there is no real divide between wish and will.”
“I chose to allow you to believe it a dream.”
“I see why. Attempted rape, then pandering to baser instinct. I did betray you, whether you knew it would happen or not, and whether I was awake or asleep.”
Quilla asked, “Knowing how bad that was, how can what happened between you earlier, well, happen?”
Elianas’ mug shattered in his hands and hot coffee spilled over his tense fingers. Torrullin stiffened, but Elianas stared at his reddening skin. “It could happen because it is intensely satisfying. As Torrullin says, obsession flourishes under those conditions.”
He shook his hand free of coffee and shattered pottery, blew on it. He did not heal himself, using the ache to remain focused.
Quilla created puffed cheeks and then deflated them. “This is beyond my experience.”
It was as if he had not spoken, for Elianas had, indeed, focused anew, and Torrullin’s gaze sharpened.
“How do you explain Kalgaia over a so-called dream?”
Torrullin reached over, gripped that sensitive hand and squeezed it. “Step from those shadows, Elianas, and assume responsibility.”
Quilla, sensing confrontation, moved out of the way.
“Are you saying I did it?” Elianas demanded.
“I did not understand until Cassy told me you killed a man before you wed,” Torrullin said in a low voice. “Back then I thought you went insane. I did not understand, because you could not kill me, you killed another, then another, and then, Elianas, more. Every attractive man.”
Elianas tore his hand away, swearing at the pain. “You lie.”
Torrullin’s chair crashed back and he rounded the table. He took the man by the neck.
“I lied to you, to protect you. Whatever happened between us, you were still my brother, a man I loved as a man loves a brother, and I have been protecting you from this ever since. Do you not wonder why my wings are so fucking massive? They are there and they are huge, because I have lied to you for many thousands of years, and I killed the witnesses to your crimes. Should I have let you hang, or better yet, take that knife to yourself?” Torrullin released him. “I did worse than you, to assume the blame. I made a mess of everything.”
Elianas was shaken, ashen and wordless.
Torrullin swung back. “Funny thing is, the more I did to protect you, the more I came to feel for you what you felt for me and that was when this sick dance started.”
Quilla moved into a corner of the kitchen, understanding why they wanted no one to hear this. His tiny hands were pressed tight to his cheeks, eyes going from one to the other, at a loss how to end it and how to fix it. He already knew it could not be repaired, and by no means they could return the gloss of lies to hide it again. Yet he hoped he could help, somehow.
“Everything I am is a lie,” Elianas said.
Torrullin paced forward. “Do you remember?”
“Yes, I remember.”
“Then tell me why, Elianas. We are now stripped bare of civilisation, so tell me the truth. Why?”
“Men do not sleep with men. My father told me that, Nemisin told me that and Cassy told me that. Do you recall what happened to Klemin? Nemisin had him tortured for sleeping with a man. It was not done, and yet I was attracted to you … gods, I hated myself.”
“I was taught the same lessons.”
“You were stronger.”
“No, you saw yourself through the eyes of a prudish society. I was born in an era when it was acceptable.”
“Not to the Valleur.”
“No, but we are sorcerers and the line appears between men to prevent transfer of power. We were taught the lessons to avoid it. Elianas, truth, I did not know either, not until that night.”
“Lord Sorcerer did not know?” Elianas sneered.
“Lord Sorcerer had never been in that position before.”
“Saska told me I must know myself to understand your goal, the fact that you love me. Whom do you love, Torrullin? The Elianas that was or the twisted soul I am now after ages of lies?”
“The Torrullin that was loved the Elianas that was. I love the one that is.”
“More esoteric bullshit.”
“Then do not ask a stupid question. Who the fuck cares who loved who when and why? This is now and lies are laid bare. Gods, what the hell do you want, a bloody resume of how love works beyond betrayal, lying, murder and cover-up? It probably isn’t love anymore, but who cares? I am sick of explaining, of reasoning everything into a tight little niche where everything could maybe, just maybe, stay put after a cursory examination, for that way it can be overlooked. Damn it, truth? I hate that you put me in a position where I chose a completely different future. I hate that I annihilated a city and a people over your fucking disgust. I hate you, is that clear enough?”
Elianas gave an enlightened, sarcastic smile. “Ah, the real Torrullin.”
“Fuck you.”
“Relax, this is tit for tat, my brother. I hate that you came into my life with your lovely, enchanting tricks to take over a gullible mind, and I hate that you taught me well. I hate that I was used against you, and you were set against me. I hate that you are exactly the man I wanted to be, but cannot hope to … let me finish! I did not set out to betray you, and yet once started wanted to finish it, thereby laying attraction to rest. Kill something beautiful, right, and then beauty cannot accuse you again? You foiled me, and I hate you because of it.”
“Excellent. We hate each other. Maybe now compromising situations go flying into the ether. A relief.”
Elianas’ eyes hooded. “Except for one thing.”
“Lethe?”
“Besides that.”
“Please enlighten me.”
“Your ultimate goal.”
Torrullin snorted. “What would you know about it? You are only beginning to see straight now.”
Elianas moved forward, then past him and behind the counter, where he fish
ed out the brandy bottle. He poured two liberal measures into the two closest mugs, and pushed one in Torrullin’s direction. He knocked his back in one gulp, and then drew deep breaths. He poured again; Torrullin ignored his. Elianas slammed the bottle down.
“I did not remember we were awake that night, but whether asleep or otherwise, the impact, I believe, was the same. I still fell into an abyss, and you still came to my rescue. Lies? Yes, but let us be honest. Would it have played out differently? No, for the real lying began after Kalgaia and, Torrullin, it did not bother us. You could have thrown the truth at me any time and I could have seen through subterfuge, that is the real truth. Becoming Enchanter was deliberate choice, choosing immortality was conscious decision, and perpetuating past transgressions suited us.
“The Path of Shades was not shied from and neither was the long-winded method of hiding until we could reunite in a time we understood would be new. We are exactly what we chose to be, and what we were before was simply the beginning of a long journey to where we are now. This includes the dance, the attraction, the goddamn line, and shadow wings, my brother.
“These are not niches allowing tight fits, and nothing is overlooked. Do we hate each other? Yes, but not enough to overshadow the rest of it. You said on Luvanor we are either moving in opposite directions, or we walk so close we think we are opposite. Which is it?”
“Close,” Torrullin admitted. He reached for the mug, sipped.
“And we come to your ultimate goal. You and me, Heart’s Desire, across the line.” Elianas lifted his mug in a mocking toast. “I am not blind, Torrullin. I know well it goes beyond power.”
“And your goal?”
“Mine was to complete betrayal, to dominate, to take your power from you, to leave you alone and powerless on one side of the line, while I go forth from the other side.”
“Liar,” Torrullin said.
Elianas shrugged. “I said ‘was’.”
“And now?”
Elianas stared at the counter for a long time before lifting his head. “I kneeled in the trampled grass where many ill stood in hope, returned from the dead, so to speak, and you called me Heart’s Desire without giving thought to lines and power. Your goal is to cross the line and retain what we have; mine is to avoid it at all costs, because I, too, desire to retain what we have. Lies aside, and everything else, I am afraid I would succumb and I am also afraid I would win. Neither option sits well.”
Lore of Sanctum Omnibus Page 105
