Lore of Sanctum Omnibus

by Elaina J Davidson

  “It can be cleaned out,” Rose said from further in.

  “Heat first,” he murmured, and closed the door.

  A central fire pit contained old coals and stank of rot. He headed to it, cleared it out with a quick wave of his hand, and then set about building a fire with twigs lying in the old dust nearby. A sorcerous fire needed something to begin the burn. The advantage in their scenario was it would provide heat without smoke. The air would remain clean and no tell-tale smoke trail would rise above the forest.

  The moment it was burning, he drew Lowen closer. “Huddle. You will feel better now.”

  She knelt, looking up at him.

  He smiled. “I do care.”

  She looked away. “I know.”

  He called the others nearer. “A shield now surrounds us to dampen sounds we make. It will also contain our signatures and the signals that magic use releases. To that end, though, I believe we should keep magic to a minimum; tell me what you need to make this place habitable and it will be done in one feat. Rose, concentrate on food; Alik, give thought to sleeping arrangements; Mikhail, ablution, and Lowen …”

  She looked up.

  “Think on extra guests.”

  She bit her lip and nodded.

  He moved away and started investigating the actual space, and the others began discussing needs.

  AN HOUR OR SO LATER one half of the circular space possessed alcoves each with a bed and bedding, a small cupboard filled with extra clothes and essentials. Torrullin chose the one closest the door, and made it clear the one beside his would remain empty. For Elianas, Lowen understood, although she did not say it aloud. She took the alcove next in line.

  The other half of the circular space was given over to kitchen facilities, very basic, and a bathroom screened and insulated from general view and sound. Around the central fire benches squatted and overhead a chandelier of sorcerous globes gave light. It could be waved on and off to need, and Torrullin showed each how to do so.

  It was now habitable, almost comfortable, and decidedly warmer than before.

  Torrullin faced them. “I hope you can live together in a small space, for this could be a lengthy cycle.”

  Rose shrugged. “This time I have company. I can do this.”

  He bowed in her direction. “You have amazed me.”

  She swallowed, unfamiliar with praise. “Thank you.”

  Alik murmured, “We will be fine. I assume you will be heading out.”

  “In the morning. Tonight I am dragging the shield further out.” He glanced over his shoulder at the kitchen. “Sure could use some coffee before I brave the cold.”

  Alik grinned. “I am useless in the kitchen.”

  Rose sighed. “Then that duty, it seems, is mine.”

  “Rose, you make the best coffee in the universe,” Torrullin murmured. He grinned when she coloured, and winked at Mikhail.

  Lowen pulled him to one side. “I get wary when you are accommodating. What are you going to do out there?”

  “Traps. You have to ensure they stay inside the palisade at all times.”

  “I am going with you.”

  “No.”

  “You brought me in on this; don’t leave me hanging now.”

  “I need you here. Lowen, do you not get it? You are my mirror. If I know I will be looking into your eyes upon every return …”

  “Crap. That is not going to stop anything out there. Esoteric crap.”

  He laughed softly. “Exactly what Elianas would say.”

  “And he would be on the mark.” She placed hands on hips. “I need be there when you find him.”

  He stared at her a beat. “I cannot say how it will be, but if I am able to come for you first, I shall do so. Until then stay here.”

  She gave him that. He had always kept to his word. “Fine.”

  He jerked a nod and headed to the kitchen area where Rose brewed coffee. “Are you all right?” he asked her.

  “I will only be all right when Teroux is safe.”

  “Understandable.”

  “I hope Aislinn is coping,” she whispered.

  He clasped her shoulder and moved away.

  Frozen Forest

  IT WAS EVEN COLDER when he headed out into the dark.

  Torrullin cursed as he stumbled over roots and branches, but dared not create light to ease his path. It took hours in the cold and dark to situate every trap in a wide perimeter and to draw the shield to encompass all, but eventually it was done, and he could head back.

  The lure of hot coffee was an all-consuming need.

  As he approached the gate something new in the environment drew his attention.

  Until then the forest was filled with the usual night sounds - owls, scuttling creatures, a flap of wings, squeaks - and now everything was silent. That kind of quiet generally occurred when something new was in the region and the creatures waited to see whether it meant danger or something to be safely ignored. This silence went beyond what was there while he tramped around.

  He could not see, but he could feel.

  First came the silence, and he stood still.

  Then came hot breath on his cheek.

  He did not react, but his heart jerked wildly. He made no move.

  Lorinin.

  His heart thumped hard. Gods. “Who are you?”

  What am I?

  Fine. A game. What are you?

  A slight glow appeared over his left shoulder. He turned with exaggerated care. The glow strengthened and took form. This time his heart threatened to burst from its confines.

  You are surprised.

  Torrullin placed a hand over his heart. More than words can describe.

  It was a creature of myth and legend. The purity of goodness. The beauty of tireless strength.

  A unicorn.

  White, ethereal and incredibly beautiful. It made no sound as it moved to stand in his field of view, its hooves silvery and seeming to float above the forest floor. A horn of incredible simplicity glowed faintly blue from the centre of its forehead and long lashes swept over pale sad eyes as it studied Torrullin.

  Many years ago the little flower needed aid.

  Rose. You created her citadel.

  I could not feed her. I wish I could have fed her.

  She survived. Today she is strong.

  I am glad.

  Is this your domain? Torrullin asked.

  We do not claim domain, Lorinin. We are and we are not.

  You call me Lorinin.

  Your blood sings with song so glorious the multiverse awaits the next note with breathless anticipation.

  He was out of his depth. This creature spoke of the multiverse; it thus transcended every barrier. My song must be filled with fury.

  No.

  I do not understand.

  The time comes. Go forth now and find the Danae. I shall guard your charges. No harm shall befall them on my watch. I shall answer every question you may have, I promise, but you must ask it with the Danae at your side. He needs you more than you need clarity.

  Where is he? Do you know?

  The storm has gathered and must unleash. In havoc will new tools be forged. Enter the void of lifelessness, Torrullin Lorinin Valla.

  Elianas is in the void?

  He may be tracked from inside. Energy of that magnitude holds what he is together.

  I must do this alone.

  The magical head dipped. The seer would not survive it.

  How much time do I have?

  Never enough.

  Torrullin moved closer.

  The unicorn retreated. Stay in place. It is hard to maintain the light under your shield.

  Torrullin halted.

  Other spaces may be forced onto your plane of confrontation.

  A beat. Why?

  I am not a farseer, Lorinin, but I offer this advice. Bring what you need together and do so without hesitation. It places your song above all, and thus they must listen.

  How do I do this?
/>
  The Danae knows.

  He threaded a hand through his hair. Gods. Elianas possessed a greater answer. Was that what their games were about?

  Elianas Danae is not aware that he knows.

  How do I then ask the question?

  You ask nothing. You touch.

  A wry laugh erupted from his throat, loud in the silence. Please elaborate.

  There was no sound and no movement for many minutes. The unicorn stood as if frozen, but its glow did not dissipate. Clearly it was thinking. Perhaps it, too, knew moments of self-doubt.

  I shall now do something I may not have the right to interfere with, and yet I trust this will aid you in forging the tools of the future. Please wait.

  Torrullin waited, and wondered what that communication meant.

  The unicorn pulsed with shivering light and it moved forward swiftly. It halted a breath away from him and transformed into a column of light. An instant after, Torrullin suffered a hard tug at the centre of his gut, and looked convulsively down.

  A flowing river of gold translucence bridged the tiny space separating them, joining them. Then he was emptied, and flew back to land hard up against a tree. Snow shuddered on the branches overhead and tumbled over him. Shaking and spluttering, he straightened.

  The unicorn had retaken form, but now a faint golden glow emanated from within the white silver.

  The Goddess of Souls is removed.

  Motionless thought assailed him then. It meant absolute change.

  Touch is safe, Lorinin.

  No, it was not. Every temptation could now be bridged.

  He is not your brother. He is your Eternal Companion, as you are his. Touch is safe. Touch, and your answer will be there.

  This changes all.

  The time for that is due.

  Perhaps. Torrullin nearly hyperventilated in the onset of emotions, of questions … of need.

  For years and ages the battles have run and they were fought and there was result, and nothing altered. The same questions plague and the same answers disappoint. Personalities of the past have intertwined into this time and others, and it is time to be free of them and what remains stagnant. Unleash the storm, Lorinin, and allow the song freedom. It is the right moment to change the concept of time.

  Time?

  Yes.

  I do not understand.

  The Danae knows. Ask.

  Touch?

  No, ask this of him direct. He must then answer.

  He was afraid to. Elianas was not easily confronted.

  My time in light is at an end. The glow that was the unicorn began to fade. I have the watch, do not fear, and we shall again speak. Bring the Danae.

  The forest was dark, a greater dark than before, and gradually the sounds of normality intruded to prove the state of otherness had passed.

  Torrullin stood in that dark and carefully examined every thought shared, and understood he had no choice.

  Palisade

  LOWEN TOOK ONE LOOK at his face and knew something was different.

  He approached her immediately. “Whatever happens, do not go beyond the palisade.”

  She stared at him, frowning. “Something happened, but you are not going to tell me.”

  “Not yet. I must go. I know how to find them now.”

  “How?”

  A rueful smile. “Cannot tell you. Cannot even explain it to myself. Lowen, everything changes now. I hope you are ready.”

  “For what?” she whispered.

  He leaned closer. “Decide, lady seer. Life or death.”

  Torrullin drew back, and an instant later had vacated the space.

  Beacon

  ANDOR BANNERMAN STOOD before the arched window, hands laced behind his back.

  His wife sat on the hard formal couch and waited.

  “I am transferring to the desert citadel for the foreseeable future. Plausible deniability. The document granting you power of attorney in my absence is in the drawer. Use it after a few days, after folk believe I, too, have been kidnapped. Be the voice of reason, Lucia, and allow me to answer insult with injury.”

  She smiled. “It will be so.”

  He swung around. “I am not telling you my plans.”

  “Plausible deniability, I understand.”

  “Good.” He returned to the view. “Go shopping or something, Lucia, and when you return to find this place in shambles, raise the cry, and then be patient.”

  She smiled again, and stood. “I am in need of a dress for the Golden Anniversary.”

  He did not turn. “Have a good time.”

  She left without a further word.

  Part II

  SONG OF THE SPACES

  Chapter 26

  Music is our language.

  ~ Kalgaia Verse ~

  Akhavar

  City of Kalgaia

  Era of the Dancing Suns

  TINGAST DANAE LOOKED up from the ledger when he noticed his son hovering in the doorway.

  “Elianas? What is it?”

  The young lad entered diffidently. “Father, you said I could come to you if … if …”

  Tingast pushed the ledger aside. “Have you been dreaming again?”

  Elianas glanced over his shoulder.

  “Shall we go for a walk?” his father offered.

  A quick nod revealed how agitated the boy was, and Tingast rose from behind his desk, and was secretly glad he could set calculations aside for a time. Managing a guild was no easy task. He smiled as he approached and laid a hand on Elianas’ shoulder, steering him out before him.

  “I believe the swans need feeding.”

  A brilliant smile said everything.

  They left the dimness of the guild hall and entered into bright sunlight. Tingast looked up. A clear day in Kalgaia; what better way to spend it than feeding swans with his son? They wandered along the tree-lined street greeting friends, but did not stop to converse and neither approached the subject that brought them out into sunshine.

  Around a corner they passed through the vegetable market, ever rowdy, and greeted more friends along the way, stopped to buy a loaf at a stall and then finally they crossed the common and headed to the smaller lakes where the swans were regal in their attitude and plumage. Four males patrolled, while six females bit and fluffed feathers further in.

  Elianas started tearing the loaf into bits and it was not long before the mighty birds were pedalling in his direction.

  Tingast sat on the grass to watch fondly. He smiled as he thought on the birthday present he had procured on the sly for his son; Elianas would love it - every ten year old would love it. Just a week more to wait for the special expression that was a father’s true appreciation.

  A few minutes later the loaf was done for, and the swans slowly returned to the centre of the lake. Elianas sighed his disappointment and then flopped down onto his stomach beside his father, staring at them.

  “They live and then they die and in between they eat,” he murmured. “Is that life?”

  A heavy dream, clearly. “For them it is.”

  “Do you think they hear music?”

  Tingast glanced down upon the dark head. A strange question, particularly from one so young. “That depends on your definition of music.”

  Fingers plucked at grass. “I guess they can hear music when we have festivals and so on.”

  “Probably. I do not think it really means anything to them, however.”

  Fingers plucked some more. “Could they hear heavenly music?”

  “No, son. We hear heavenly music.”

  The dark head turned in his direction. “Is it real?”

  “That depends on your definition of real.”

  Elianas sat up and stared at his father. “Either something is real or it isn’t.”

  “That is not quite the way of it; how would we go forward without the means to make something imagined real? First there is imagination, always, and music lives there also.”

  “Do you imagine my m
other?”

  Tingast inhaled slowly. “I imagined meeting someone really special, someone right for me, and it happened.”

  “Can’t you imagine her back?”

  Gods. “Your mother is in another place …”

  “She left us? We weren’t good enough?”

  Tingast leaned forward. “We were everything she dreamed of, Elianas, and then her time on this earth was over. We cannot now call her back, but we may remember her.”

  The dark head swung away, hair swirling. “I can’t see her face anymore.”

  The older man lifted his son’s chin. “Look at me.” When Elianas reluctantly did so, he lightly touched his cheek and then folded his hands in his lap. “It is not her face you need hold onto, son; hold onto love and caring and moments of happiness. That is what is important.”

  A small frown marred the young forehead. “When I think of love I hear music.”

  “That is a great gift, son. It means you will find love. Someone special, as your mother was special to me.”

  “Did you hear music?”

  “Every time she laughed,” Tingast said.

  Elianas blinked, realising it was an adult statement he could not yet fathom.

  “I dreamed of a house of stone, father, a house that was part of a mountain, part of a forest and part of a sea, and every time I looked at it, I heard extraordinary music, like angels were singing, but more than angels, like the universe was sighing because it was so beautiful. What does it mean?”

  Tingast shivered. There was only one house he knew of to fit that description, although he had never seen it. Nemisin mocked it one day in court, saying his mountain enclave was greater and royal, whereas that little pretence at building with nature was a laughable attempt. He was not the only one who thought Nemisin’s tirade was more about jealousy than making a valid point.

  “Father?”

  “I think it means nature inspires you, son, and it is a grand ideal.”

  “It’s good, even though it’s in my imagination?”

  Tingast smiled. “It’s good.”

  Elianas bit at his lip. “I think the special one I will love lives there. I think of love and hear music, and then I see the house and hear more music. Is that a good thing?”