Lore of Sanctum Omnibus

by Elaina J Davidson

  “You have had this how long? You never harked to it?”

  “They are words until you see meaning, Tristan.”

  “And what meaning do you see?”

  Teighlar gave a rueful smile. “Third degree, is it? Very well, I will play. Wish and will, Tristan, first indicator. Torrullin and Elianas were ever on about the dangers in wish and will. Their entire relationship is based on melding the two, while fighting that reality with every breath. Wish and will is Heart’s Desire for them, and thus the greatest part of the unholy allure. The moment those two factors meld everything will be changed.”

  “You are saying they desire the allure.”

  “Well, naturally. Isn’t it obvious? The more they fight, the more they want, and the more they want, the more they fight, and the volatility engendered drives them ever harder into the challenge. Neither man enjoys simplicity, peace or the unbroken way. But there is something more crucial driving them, and it is the burden of time. Without each other, without the continual warring, they would soon be insane. As crazy as it sounds, the insanity we perceive as laying around and between them is the very thing that prevents ultimate madness. They cope with time because they are never bored with each other.”

  Tristan nodded, seeing the logic. “Elixir and Eternal Companion.”

  “Yes.” Teighlar leaned far forward in his seat to capture Tristan’s gaze. “Know this; both men are Elixir and Eternal Companion. They are indivisible, for one would fail without the other.”

  Tristan stared at him.

  “I am aware that may give you a hard time, but it is nonetheless true,” Teighlar murmured.

  “And yet Elianas changed the rules.”

  “Did he change the rules? Or is he playing by a set we may never understand? Is this subjugation of Torrullin not part of the game? Even I, with many, many years behind me, cannot fathom that mystery. We, Quilla, anyone within the circle, not one of us can know how it is for them when time is a moment stretched into unalterable eternity. It is a madness we cannot endure, I think.”

  Tristan frowned. “You are immortal.”

  “And so are you. You are a young immortal and I am an Ancient and yet we have something they do not have. We still have the choice of death.”

  Tristan shook his head in consternation.

  Teighlar sighed. “We are now off the subject, but, for your information, I say I have the option of death, because I hope it is so. If not, then one day I shall perhaps begin to understand those two; I shall begin to understand when I feel the weight of eternity.”

  Tristan did not yet comprehend; he could not, for he was young in years as well.

  Teighlar moved on. “Second indicator; wings of mist. I too saw their mighty wings, Tristan. Huge, massive, frightening Shadow Wings. Who else, in all the universes and in all time, has possessed those mythical devices?”

  Tristan nodded. “Yes.”

  Teighlar tapped the book. “We need to pull this one apart word for word to uncover the true meaning of the warning.”

  “So it is a warning.”

  “Maybe, maybe not, but we should treat it as one from the outset, but, more importantly, we should find the timing it speaks to. We cannot afford to go charging in only to discover this telling was nullified eons ago in other dimension, or it is so far in the future no one will be around to witness fulfilment.”

  “I have always thought those two require witnesses.”

  Teighlar smiled. “I would agree with you. Despite their claims, they require watchers to prove to themselves they are real.”

  “Are they real?

  In the silence that followed, Tristan wondered if he asked the wrong question, but when Teighlar replied he knew it was the Emperor who was loath to answer; the Emperor knew more than he would ever reveal.

  “Are they real?” he echoed. “They are flesh and blood, they bleed, they feel and they learn, thus, yes, on that basic level they are real. They are sentient, therefore have a place in the scheme of life, but they are also more and that is where unreality sets in. They exist in reincarnation, dimensions, realms, and scattered times all at once and yet must be in a specified place at a specified time to see and be seen. Is that reality? It is theirs and it is the best answer I am able to give you.”

  “What do you know deep in there, Teighlar, and refuse to divulge?”

  The Emperor barked a laugh. “You are too sharp.”

  Tristan waited.

  His companion heaved a sigh. “I said earlier they are both Elixir and Eternal Companion, but that is not strictly true. I should have said they are both Elixir and Alhazen, and, while it is true they would now fail without each other, they are able to reach a point where they are entirely separated. How they would find it, I do not know, but I do know one of them will fight hard to prevent it coming to pass. Which one? I would say from our vantage point it would be Elianas who would fight the hardest, for his realness is found only in Torrullin, while Torrullin has the Valla blood descendants to validate him. However …”

  Tristan held a hand aloft. “I understand.”

  “Do you? Are you not like your cousin Teroux right now in thinking it is physical desire Torrullin harks after, and you find it as abhorrent as your cousin does? Tristan, Torrullin could well fight the separation harder for an entirely different reason, but I am not about to tell you why. If he wants you to know, he will tell you when the time is right.”

  A silence ensued, and then, “You know?”

  “I suspect only. Elianas is important to him for reasons beyond what is seen.”

  Tristan scowled.

  Teighlar smiled. “Relax, it is an excellent reason.”

  “Gods, I hate riddles.”

  “Hmm, you sound like Torrullin right there. Do not give up on the future, my young friend.”

  “I am not giving up on anything.”

  “Glad to hear …” Teighlar paused, and then, “I am popular today; Quilla has just arrived.”

  THE BIRDMAN FOUND the two men in the small library off the Great Hall.

  He headed directly to the fire as he offered greetings and held tiny hands to the flames.

  “I heard the Dome’s call, Tris, but I am here at Teroux’s behest.” The birdman turned with a smile. He received exactly the reaction he expected.

  Teighlar flopped back in his chair. “What trouble is he stirring?”

  Tristan grimaced. “I hope he isn’t shouting accusations again.”

  Quilla said, “Poor Teroux, so loved, and yet we are wary of him.”

  Tristan sighed. “What is it?”

  Quilla sat on an abandoned footstool, folded his hands in his lap, and said, “Torrullin.”

  Tristan swore. He had hoped Teroux’s subject matter underwent a change.

  “No, Tris, no accusations,” Quilla said. “Teroux underwent an experience recently that presented to him something akin to a vision. He has asked me to act as his envoy.”

  “Experience?”

  “His ship sank on Mariner Lake; four survivors. In returning to surface …”

  “Why didn’t Rose send for us?” Tristan blurted.

  “Teroux would take it out on her. She told me before I came here that she wanted to, but her husband’s state of mind was more important during his recovery. She asked that I tell you and said how sorry she is.”

  Tristan nodded. He felt guilty then; they were all guilty of sweeping Teroux’s prejudices under the proverbial rug, thereby ignoring someone they loved.

  “Envoy to what end?” Teighlar asked.

  Quilla shifted his bright blue gaze to the Senlu. “He wants you to pierce Elianas’ defences. He wants you to get Torrullin out.”

  “What? Why?”

  “His vision reveals Torrullin may be dying.”

  Silence ensued, for the men there understood there were multiple explanations for ‘dying’ , and then Tristan asked, “How is he dying?”

  “Teroux believes the persona of Rayne may be too strong now to shake
off.”

  Teighlar and Tristan looked at each other, and Teighlar murmured, “Rayne cannot ever be stronger. Teroux has it wrong. And I am not going in there.”

  “You have felt no shivers, Emperor?”

  Another silence. “I have felt no shivers.”

  “But we have stumbled upon a mysterious prophecy,” Tristan said.

  Quilla looked at the one and then the other. “In my opinion, it counts as a shiver. I assume we are talking about a foretelling shouting out Elixir?”

  Both men nodded.

  “Then Teroux may be more on the mark than you give him credit for. Tell me these mysterious words …”

  CABALLA ENTERED TO FIND them gesticulating over a book in Grinwallin’s library.

  “Tristan.”

  Silence fell, and the two men and one birdman turned to her.

  Teighlar rose to greet her in the manner of a gentleman.

  “Please don’t. I have,” and Caballa drew breath, “… news.”

  Tristan stood. He said not a word.

  She gazed only at him. “Tianoman has vanished and Aislinn has been kidnapped.” She paused for a beat, before adding, “And Tarlinn, as a communicating Throne, commands me to bring Torrullin and Elianas to him.”

  Chapter 7

  Pray now. The time has come.

  ~ Father Rees, to truth-seekers at the Round Temple on Valaris ~

  The Dome

  BELUN LEANED OVER THE console of lights staring at the one for Knowledge.

  The echo of resonance shivered over his skin. Tristan had sent out a summons to the Dome, the call that reached every member of the Kaval wherever they might be, one that could not be denied. Thus it had been when the Guardians had been keepers of the Dome; thus it was now for the Kaval.

  Any moment, and the ogives would commence multiple chime as one by one they answered the call.

  Jonas stared at him; Belun could feel it, but could not react to it. Jonas, naturally, had also felt the universal summons to gather. What, the Centuar mused, had changed between Tristan’s departure for Grinwallin, and now?

  The Dragon ogive chimed first and Tristan strode in, his face expressionless. The kind of look one assumed when emotion was forced into abeyance.

  Belun shivered. This was not good.

  An hour later they were at full complement, barring the presence of Quilla. The Q’lin’la apparently already knew of the situation.

  HALF AN HOUR AFTER that the Dome emptied again, with Tristan’s final command echoing in many ears.

  Leave no stone unturned. Find the Vallorin and find the Valleur queen.

  Belun was alone with a man who paced like a lunatic.

  He decided, this time, tact would get him nowhere. This time throwing a burning stick into tinder-dry brush was the better action.

  “You need Torrullin.”

  Tristan halted immediately and swivelled on the balls of his feet. Contrary to suspicion, he did not explode into flame.

  “How do I get him, Belun? Answer me that.”

  Belun met his gaze without flinching. “You set Quilla onto Lowen. And you then set Lowen onto Elianas.”

  Tristan did not react, other than his gaze losing focus as his thoughts turned inward. Before too long he said, “Recall Quilla from his meeting with the Elders on Valaris.”

  Belun inclined his head and sent the call.

  Xen III

  Shanghai Metrop

  Dalrish Palace

  IT WAS EARLY EVENING in Xen III’s largest city, Shanghai Metrop, and the massive white Dalrish Palace was aglow in rose tints.

  Quilla shuddered slightly as he appeared in the large audience chamber; the time jumps between worlds could be exhausting even for a birdman. Valaris, Sanctuary, Grinwallin, Valaris, Dome … ah, well.

  He approached the guards on duty, but they had recognised him and were in the process of calling for Max Dalrish’s major domo. Max was Xen’s Peacekeeper, first of the extended Dalrish family. Lowen was a Dalrish and to find her he needed to meet with the Peacekeeper.

  The old man who had been Max’ major domo for decades soon arrived, and led Quilla up carpeted stairs and down tiled corridors until they stood before the Peacekeeper’s suite of offices.

  Max welcomed him unreservedly.

  His dark hair, common to the Dalrish, was short, and his blue eyes shone with mischief. Max did not take himself seriously, although he was already grandfather to six and had been Peacekeeper for years.

  “It is good to see you again, Quilla. This calls for a drink.”

  Quilla held a hand aloft. “Thank you, but I am in a bit of a rush.”

  Max sank down behind his massive desk. “How can I help?”

  “I am looking for Lowen.”

  “Is this about Torrullin?”

  “In a roundabout way, yes,” Quilla responded. “We would ask her to speak to Elianas.”

  Max’s eyes narrowed. “She desires to stay out of it.”

  Quilla folded his hands. “I am aware, but Elianas will listen to her.”

  “I would not know of that. What is this about, exactly?”

  The birdman murmured, “Soon now your ambassador to Valaris will report …”

  “Tell me now.” Max was Peacekeeper, despite his mischievous personality, and one did not deny him.

  Nodding, Quilla revealed, “Tianoman and Aislinn Valla have been kidnapped.”

  Max surged to his feet. “When? How?”

  Quilla told him what he could safely reveal and asked again after Lowen.

  The Peacekeeper shoved his hands into the pockets of his ornate robe. “I see why. What is it with this damn universe? Fine, I will send for her; the choice is hers alone, however. Quilla, know this, not only can the Kaval count on us, but so too the Valleur. Ask for help whenever you need it.”

  “Thank you.”

  Quilla waited while Max recalled his major domo, spoke to him and returned to his desk.

  “Max, are you aware of the influx of pilgrims to Valaris’ Lifesource Temple?”

  “I am. It tells me there is trouble brewing. Ha. And it is now stirred.”

  Quilla nodded.

  A knock sounded. A moment after that Lowen Dalrish walked in.

  The birdman found himself standing, she had that much presence. Her startlingly blue eyes were as clear as ever and her dark hair was undimmed, shining in the lamp light of the office. She wore a dark blue dress with a green cloak swung over her shoulders, and her only adornment was a silver Celtic cross upon her breast. He had not seen her for a few months, but she seemed both older and younger to him, and her presence filled the room as it had not before.

  She smiled. “Quilla.”

  “Lowen.” He finally understood why Torrullin betrayed his wife for this woman. She was striking, real, tangible and as complicated as Elixir could be.

  She glanced at Max. “I think I will borrow Quilla, if you don’t mind.”

  Max Dalrish bowed. “As you wish.”

  Quilla followed her out and remembered his good manners in time. He thanked the Peacekeeper and trailed after Lowen, heard Max chuckle behind him, and then the door closed.

  Lowen led him down the corridor, a direction opposite to what brought him to the suite of offices.

  “He treats me like royalty,” Lowen murmured. “He is just short of calling me ‘my lady’. I’ll have to thump him on the day he dares do so.”

  Quilla smiled. Lowen was more than a presence; she had heart and soul and a sense of humour. “You are of a generation they revere today.”

  “Hmm, well, I would sooner forget how old my stint at immortality has made me.”

  “Where are we going?”

  “My chambers. I sweep them for listening devices daily. We can talk in private. I assume you are here about Torrullin or maybe it is Elianas that brings you.”

  “Not that they can be separated.”

  “True.”

  “Listening devices?” Quilla prompted.

  “Not of
Dalrish origin; spies from Xen and Beacon mostly. We have to be careful every moment. Since Xen’s recovery after the domes, she has flourished, new minerals have surfaced and Beacon wants a slice of the action. President Bannerman has become a thorn in Max’s heel. It appears now that the benevolent mining agreed to for Echolone is an exception.”

  “Ah. Politics.”

  “No. Greed.”

  “Often the same thing.”

  “That is true.”

  She led him around a corner and up a short flight of steps to a set of double doors. Her suite lay beyond and it was breathtaking.

  Large and airy, each chamber possessed a pyramidal skylight through which the rose glows of sunset now bathed all in benign light. Her furniture was minimal and of pale colours, everything tasteful, yet comfortable. One wall held books, while another possessed some of the most spectacular artworks he had seen in a while.

  He said it before he could guard his tongue, “Torrullin would love this.”

  There was a skip in her step as she walked across to an island of armchairs. “Torrullin will never see it.”

  It was wiser to allow that to pass. Quilla took a seat and folded his hands. “How have you been, Lowen?”

  She sat and smiled at him. “I won’t break, Quilla. You can speak about him freely; we made our choices with full mind.” She drew breath. “How have I been? Well, Max still asks me to go to Valaris as honorary ambassador on occasion, particularly if he needs a private conversation with Tian, and I do humanitarian work, generally on Lax. Other than that, I am bored and feel useless. All those years with Torrullin as a guiding light, whether he was there or not, has resulted in expecting the unexpected around every turn in the road. I am still technically Kaval, because Tristan denied my resignation, but now it’s a sometime consultancy, not enough, I am afraid, to keep my mind occupied. And that,” she laughed, “is the short version.”

  What was there to say to that? She had chosen to relinquish her longevity, thereby relinquishing her full position in the Dome of the Kaval. She chose a normal human lifespan to be normal again. She would have to live with the consequences.