Anxious gazes met his and one by one they nodded.
“Tell a few shamans also, and do not give up.”
Belun whispered, “What are the dynamics here?”
“They are torn in loyalty. Nemisin has ancient status, historical significance, and I, well, for some reason I am large and bold in Valleur psyche.” He paused to smile. “Tian is the best hope for the future. But how do they choose? Has what I indicated been sufficient to sway? Thus, whoever wins out this night has claim to their loyalty, but reason might dictate the Throne makes a mistake if Tian isn’t chosen. It means civil strife. It also means the one voice phenomenon might be in opposition, and that is huge danger for Echolone this night, and the Valleur wherever they are after this. Say the words. Ali tremen ke. Say it until you are hoarse, and pray it does not come to that.”
“Gods,” Amunti muttered.
“Spread out unobtrusively after I walk away. Erin?”
“All is ready. Northwest of the Throne.”
“Well done.”
“Surely that will incite violence?” Fuma murmured.
“It might, if he wins and is then removed.”
“If he wins, does he stay?”
“No.”
The Kaval glanced again amongst themselves. Greater odds, then.
Torrullin bowed, and moved casually back to the Throne. Gradually the Kaval dispersed and prepared as commanded. He took a place beside Sabian and murmured, “Northwest of the seat. A corridor has been prepared.”
“How do I open the door?” Sabian murmured back.
“He is part Dragon and you are now his sword. Hold onto him, touch the two symbols and push. And then you have a choice.” Torrullin moved his head to glance at the fair man. “You are welcome in this realm, know that.”
“Where, Torrullin? Valaris feels odd, Sanctuary is too needy and Akhavar is both too old and too new now. Where?”
“The Path is far worse.”
“Maybe, but I shall have a goal.”
Nemisin was returning. “Then make a home on Avaelyn.”
Sabian hissed through his teeth. “You would offer me that? Why?”
“I know what it is like to be regarded as a Darak Or, and then the hardship in clawing a way back from it. You do not have to stay, but there is space enough for you to find your purpose again in private. The offer stands.”
Torrullin moved away as Nemisin started trading stares with Tianoman.
Sabian mentally bowed. The question of who deserved his true loyalty had now finally been laid to rest. The only issue remaining was how best to serve that loyalty. Take Nemisin away forever to ensure it stayed that way, or become Torrullin’s silent sword arm should he need one?
Torrullin meanwhile confronted Cassy. “You could have started fresh, Cassy. I thought you hated the yoke of this particular father.”
Her eyes glittered when she looked at him. “I do, but he is also my Vallorin and I owe him my allegiance. Truth? I hate that he returned, I despise that he uses my network, and I loathe that I must now bow to him again, but I realise also if I break oath I am worthless as both daughter and Valleur subject.”
“So you help him and hope for?”
“I hope he is victorious over you and I hope that young man over there is victorious over him.”
“You want to see me squirm, is that it?”
Her stare was direct. “Yes.”
“Why exactly?”
Torrullin’s shoulders abruptly stiffened, and she sighed. “That is why. He arrives and you do not even have to see him to know he is here. And he looks for you first.” She lapsed into silence, and then Elianas was beside him.
“Cassy. In the last few hours I prayed you will stand on our side of the line.”
“Clearly you did not pray hard enough, Elianas.”
“Clearly,” he echoed, and then, to Torrullin, “How is Tian?”
Torrullin jerked his head to indicate they move away, but Cassy laughed. “Don’t bother - I’ll go.” She flounced off.
Dark eyes bored into grey. “Are you holding?”
“Yes. Where were you?”
“Preparing.”
“For?”
“Every eventuality.”
“A hard task.”
“Hard enough. How is Tian?”
“In better form than I had hoped. He might win this.”
“Good.” Elianas drew in breath, deeply. “The seat is different. It may hark to a different harmony.”
“I know.”
“If it goes for the longest ruling Vallorin, it is yours.”
“And if it goes for ancient loyalty, it is Nemisin’s.”
“Thus is the young one in the middle. He needs be strong.”
“He has a son, and he desires that his son become ruler after him. I believe he has that strength.”
“And we shall support him.” Elianas murmured under his breath. “One voice is present here. Who brought them? This is a dangerous situation.”
“They are here, and one voice can be a support.”
“Only if Tian is victorious without a shadow of doubt.”
“Hearth and home, Elianas, and prayer.”
A small smile. “I do not do well with prayer.”
A laugh. “I don’t either. Come, let us begin this farce.”
THREE ELDERS AND three Valleur were summoned to bear direct witness to the procedure.
Nemisin did not like it, but he understood the need for veracity. The six men would not in interfere. They were there to listen to the manner of calling and to the reaction given by the Throne. Yiddin was among them, and tasked with declaring the victor to the gathered. He paled, knowing the danger, but bowed and accepted the duty.
The six took up position paces removed from the Throne, in line of sight. The three contestants would stand before them one at a time. Tristan, Elianas and Sabian moved to the left, while Cassy stood alone to the right of the tableau.
Yiddin was also tasked with order, and he called it. “Torrullin, Nemisin, Tianoman. In that order three times. Every response will be noted and calculated, and the winner will be declared after.”
Unless the Throne reacted in a manner to leave no doubt.
Thus Torrullin was first. He stood with the knot of six behind him and gazed towards the golden seat. Then he stepped away.
Yiddin snagged him. “You did not call.”
“That is my choice.”
Yiddin stared at him, and sighed. Gods, this could get bad. He nodded and returned to position.
Nemisin sneered. “Not playing, Lord Sorcerer?”
“Do your thing.”
Tianoman stared at him with wide eyes.
Nemisin stepped up, folded his hands across his chest and bowed. A collective and expectant breath drew in all sound amid the gathered. Nemisin bent his will and mind at the golden seat, and called. He did so in silence, and yet the sound reverberated through to every magic user on that tundra.
Tarlinn, it is I, Nemisin, your maker and ruler and partner. Come to me, brother!
Tarlinn. Ancient Valleur for brother-in-arms. Nemisin had named his Throne. It could be a telling difference.
Every watcher felt the seat of power resonate. It did not move, but it heard.
Nemisin bowed again and stepped away. “Beat that, Tianoman.”
Tianoman was regal as he took up position. He said, “You know me. I shall not employ tricks, for I believe you are able to reason beyond sentiment. You are an ancient, and you see with the eyes of time, and thus you will make the informed decision. The Valleur revere you. I revere you.”
Again there was resonance.
The Valleur went wild.
Tianoman bowed and stepped away.
On Yiddin’s face there was obvious relief. If one read results there, Tianoman was ahead in the game.
Torrullin smiled.
Nemisin was at his side. “This time you call, Torrullin. This is not a fair challenge if you keep silent.”
&n
bsp; “I do not care about fair. I want Tianoman to walk away the victor, as he should be.”
“You will ever wonder who it really belongs to.”
Torrullin hissed in his ear, “I know who it belongs to, idiot, and it is not you.” Smiling serenely, Torrullin again stepped into position. Again he did not call. He gave it a few seconds and moved to step out …
… the golden seat transformed.
He swung back.
The Throne glowed as if lit from within. An aura of white light pulsed around it.
Terrible silence reigned.
Yiddin was so pale it seemed he was about to collapse.
Torrullin was not far from it either. He gasped out, “No! You know my heart! It is not right that I be Vallorin!”
The Throne pulsed.
The light did not retreat even when Torrullin stalked off. He went directly to Elianas. “It is going wrong.”
Elianas murmured, “Maybe it is making the right choice, my brother.”
Tristan asked, “Can you not command it to stand down?”
Torrullin threaded a hand through his hair. He drew a ragged breath, and around the edges of his eyes spots of darkness skittered. “No, not this time. But I can be something it will repudiate.”
Elianas paled markedly. “Then you will not get to morning whole.”
Torrullin stared at him. “So be it.”
Sabian, silent on the other side of Tristan, made his choice.
As Torrullin moved away and Nemisin, glaring his hate, stepped up, Tianoman massaged his heart to still the erratic thumping. Elianas moved to follow, but Tristan held him back.
“It’s hard, but this time you must let him do as he sees fit.”
“You do not understand.”
Tristan leaned in. “I think I do. I also know you are Nemesis.”
Elianas scowled at him. “What is that supposed to mean?”
“The Syllvan said you are his nemesis …”
Elianas yanked his arm free.
“… and then they qualified that statement,” Tristan said. “They revealed you would be Destroyer’s Nemesis.”
Elianas halted.
Tristan pushed it home. “If he is sundered this night with Destroyer in control, and you pick up what is left, Elianas, you will save his soul for eternity.”
Elianas bent over, hands on knees, and hyperventilated.
Tristan laid a hand on that tense shoulder. “You have to let him break.”
Elianas straightened and stood as if turned to stone, his face becoming a blank mask.
Tristan whispered, “I am sorry.”
Nemisin meanwhile took his place. Before he opened his mouth or could use his mind to issue a summons the Throne dimmed. A second later the glow was gone.
If that was not a statement of intent, what else to call it?
Nemisin blanched, and then issued a loud call, “Tarlinn, come to me!”
Nothing happened.
Nemisin opened his mouth, and Yiddin said, “You had your chance.”
Nemisin cursed and moved away.
Sabian murmured to Tristan, “Tarlinn; close to Torrullin, not so? Brother in arms, and who fits that description most? I think old Nemisin made the gravest error in giving it a name.”
Tristan nodded.
Elianas did not speak. He did not move either, but his senses tracked the fair man stalking nearby. He could feel the darkness settling in there. Soon Torrullin would be beyond usual recall.
Tianoman was next. He did not have to say anything either. Clearly the Throne had taken command of the challenge and challenged in turn. It lit for Tianoman as it had for Torrullin. The Valleur went wild once more.
Yiddin, ashen, understood it was now between those two. How would Nemisin react? How would the Valleur cope with a result they could not deny? Gods, this night could lead to civil war.
Torrullin strode around the back of them to come up behind Cassy on the other side. “You have to make a choice now.”
She gasped on seeing his eyes.
“Now it goes to hell, Cassiopin. Your father will unleash whatever he has waiting in the wings, unless he is stopped. I swear he will be stopped, now. And you will be the loose end everyone looks at. Make your choice.”
She managed, “Elianas.”
“Your choice is Elianas?”
“No … yes! If there is a future with him …”
“There is not.”
“You would take him from me?”
“I did that a long time ago. You have to accept.”
“I want to hear him say it.”
He took her arm, marched her back around and dumped her before her husband. “Ask.” He let go to put a fist to his forehead, pressing there the pressure building behind the bone.
Elianas’ eyelids flickered.
“Elianas, is there a chance we could have a marriage?” Cassy asked, and Tristan’s heart bled for her in that moment.
“No.”
“You choose him?”
“I did that a long time ago.”
She sneered. “Exactly what he said. To hell with you, then.” She turned to Torrullin. “I choose for my father.”
“So be it.”
She sniffed and made her way to her father’s side.
Torrullin glanced significantly at Sabian, who, after a few moments, nodded. So be it, indeed.
“Last call!” Yiddin announced.
Torrullin headed there immediately.
Elianas closed his eyes for strength, and then reopened them to stare fixedly at the scene.
He was ready.
Chapter 80
Light shattered, dark scattered … what is left?
~ Arc, poet
Echolone
THE GATHERING BEYOND the perimeter waited expectantly and amid them moved the Kaval and shamans.
To one side of the tableau before the Throne, Tristan, Sabian and Elianas prepared for what would come next, whatever it was. Tianoman stood nearby bending his will to a particular result, and Yiddin and the Elders waited as witness. Cassy and Nemisin were together, but neither said anything to the other.
Torrullin, his eyes black, marched into position.
Destroyer was fully in command.
The Throne did not react, but it did not lose the glow it strengthened for Tianoman either.
Torrullin lifted a hand and shot a bolt of bright scarlet at it.
The gathered hissed.
The Elders moaned.
Tianoman paled.
Nemisin laughed.
The Throne threw a shield up, a pale shimmer of air. The scarlet bolt skittered off it and shattered into tiny shards before dissipating. The shield remained in place as Torrullin loosed bolt after bolt at it.
Yiddin shouted, “Cease! You commit sacrilege this night!”
Nemisin said aloud, “Oh, let him at it, Elder. He proves how unworthy he is.”
Tianoman hissed and Elianas was at his shoulder. “He proves how worthy he is, Tian. He tells the entire universe he cannot be Vallorin.”
Tianoman stiffened. “I do not need your input.”
“One day you may understand.”
The young man’s shoulders slumped. “I do now. The Throne is his.”
Elianas did not reply.
Tianoman glanced over his shoulder. “What is the real purpose, Elianas?”
A sigh. “If I knew I would interfere.”
Tianoman stared at him a moment longer and then watched Torrullin intensify the campaign. The Throne had not reacted beyond raising the shield. It was as if it waited for Torrullin to exhaust himself.
Torrullin ceased and then began muttering in the ancient dialect of Vallorins, the language Nemisin conceived. As he commenced, Nemisin snapped a wide-eyed gaze to him, and then smiled. It was a self-satisfied smile that raised hairs on every watcher’s skin.
The Throne dropped the air shield and a bolt of power hurtled across the space to fell Torrullin to his knees. Laughing, Torrullin muttered
louder.
Elianas drew a slow breath behind Tianoman.
Another bolt flew across and smacked into Torrullin’s chest, hurtling him over onto his back.
Elianas moved.
Lightning fast, he was at the fair man’s side, kneeling there. He shouted in the Throne’s direction, “You made your point!”
Nemisin laughed hysterically, and Cassy lifted stark eyes to him.
Tianoman felt as if he would break.
Sabian unobtrusively moved into position near Nemisin, and Tristan was paralysed.
Torrullin muttered again, lifting up on one elbow, staring at the golden seat. A bolt flew across and flattened him. His eyes rolled back.
An instant later Elianas faced the Throne. “Enough,” he said.
A yellow pulse released from the seat and moved like a wave across the space. It surrounded Elianas, swivelled him to face the man at his feet. Yellow light bled from his fingertips, and his arms were lifted against his will to point at Torrullin. Elianas fought the control, and knew it was a losing battle. Bolts of power shot from his fingers and smashed into the man at his feet.
Then the glow was gone. The Throne was again a golden seat without movement and intent, a hunk of metal. Nemisin laughed ever more hysterically, until Cassy slapped him. Tianoman and Tristan ran to Torrullin’s side and Yiddin moved in, his face etched with tension.
Elianas stared down.
Torrullin’s eyes opened to stare up. The black receded in shards, causing him to blink crazily and then clear grey took over.
“Destroyer is dead.”
Elianas drew ragged breath.
Those clear eyes clouded over, and the man rolled sideways, moaning. He pushed up onto all fours, and Tristan and Tianoman were there to aid him to his feet. He swayed between them and then struggled clear.
“My Lord?” Yiddin whispered.
Torrullin’s head swivelled. And then swivelled back to Elianas. “Where am I?”
For a moment Elianas froze and begged time to take him and begged for another path, anything but this, and then he stepped forward. “In a place too cold for an ill brother. Come, I shall take you where it is warm and quiet.” He held a steady hand out.
Torrullin stared at it. “Do I know you?”
Lore of Sanctum Omnibus Page 129
