Lore of Sanctum Omnibus

by Elaina J Davidson

  Torrullin came to a halt. Everything inside him came to a halt.

  Alik drew a breath on seeing Elianas and Lowen clinched in a passionate embrace. Mikhail looked at her, and groaned inaudibly. So that was how it was now.

  Sabian shook his head, muttering under his breath, and wished Quilla was with them. How did one disentangle this mess? When even Lowen showed signs of brinkmanship?

  Rose frowned, attempting to understand the dynamics.

  Teighlar swore.

  Tristan said nothing at all. He understood Elianas, after humiliation, desired to show strength, whatever form it took to prove it … to himself. It was a pity others were caught in the crossfire, and yet nothing would now alter it.

  Elianas lifted his head and touched Lowen’s cheek. “I hold you to your word, understand that.”

  She stepped reluctantly away. “Just say when.”

  He wanted to kiss her again; it was immediately obvious to everyone there, especially Torrullin, but Elianas drew back and nodded. A moment later he approached his frozen … brother.

  “Do not ever fuck with me again, Torrullin. I play this game far harder than you can.”

  Torrullin blinked. “It is no game.”

  “And finally you get that.”

  His expression was dead. “The Lumin Sword isn’t a trinket.”

  “Indeed.” Elianas moved towards the kitchen area. “I am in the mood for coffee. Anyone else?”

  Alik said, “That would be nice.” She cleared her throat, thinking she understood the underlying enmity between the two men. They were in love with the same woman, after all. They were brothers of time, but a woman had weakened their trust for each other.

  Rose moved to the kitchen as well, shaking her head in dismay.

  Lowen faced Torrullin. Neither of them noticed Elianas come to a halt to watch them, dark eyes unreadable.

  “To employ the Sword is dangerous,” Lowen said.

  He inclined his head. “You made the only move available to you.”

  “On the spur of the moment, yes; with time and thought I might have found something else.”

  “Really?”

  A beat. “I don’t know.”

  “It does not matter. The Sword is dimmed, but how he managed that? I will have to ask him sometime. Right now there is the issue of …”

  “Torrullin, please.” Her heart, her misery, was stark in her gaze.

  He touched her cheek in much the same manner as Elianas had. “You hold to your word.” Briefly he caressed. “I do not blame you.”

  She swallowed convulsively. “What about you?”

  “He will not escape me much longer.”

  Elianas snorted and moved to help Rose with the coffee.

  Torrullin continued, “To throw a gauntlet down one must be certain of the outcome, mustn’t one? And if one’s challenger is also fuel …”

  Elianas swore and, an instant later, dragged a laughing Torrullin out into the snow.

  This time Lowen stayed put.

  Alik’s eye rounded when her father swore to highest Aaru, while Sabian doubled over in laughter.

  IT WAS GETTING DARK, and it was so cold breath made crackling sounds upon the air. Particles of ice soon formed on their brows and upper lips, and fingers turned blue. Feet were numb.

  Torrullin shoved free of the punishing hold and turned at bay. The palisade gate was at his back. “What are you so afraid of, you go to these lengths? Why bring the Sword back into the fray? We can do without that particular lure.”

  Elianas stood before him invading his space. “I am afraid of your song.”

  “Why?”

  “It will undo me.”

  “How, for fuck’s sake? You told me in Lethe you heard music in me. Why be afraid of something you have heard almost all your life?”

  “The song is greater than the music I hear. It is more. Setting it free will alter the future for us.”

  “How, Elianas?”

  The dark man paced. “You wanted to cross the line as brothers - Valla, of course, but I think Danae will do - and now that wish is granted, at least in your mind and, behold, there is no bloody line anymore. Every twisted reason for inflicting the pain of the Goddess of Souls is now poof!” He blew eloquently on his fingers. “I, however, desired something else - your song. To get to it, there was this little line; without it there is no purpose.”

  “I need more than that.”

  “You need a fucking lot these days.” Elianas threaded hands through his hair. “Torrullin, be patient. Your song forms part of the Lorinin you bear inside. You must know of the one before the other.”

  “Tell me.”

  Elianas shook his head. “It is about knowing, not telling.”

  “Fine, let us move on to bringing the confrontation into one space,” Torrullin growled.

  Elianas inclined his head. Relief entered his gaze. “It is a good strategy, I agree. A circle of confrontation. There must be neutral ground, of course.”

  “Avaelyn cannot escape it.”

  “It might, but let us examine how to achieve this conflict circle.”

  “And we are back to the issue of touch.”

  “Our conundrum.” Elianas smiled enigmatically and reached out to undo Torrullin’s tunic. He shivered as his chest was laid bare. Elianas placed his hands there. “Touch,” he murmured.

  “You do not understand, brother. This is not about mutual communication. I must touch you. I must quest for the answer.”

  Elianas’ hands pressed in as he leaned on them. He closed his eyes. “I cannot explain how dangerous that is now.”

  “For whom?”

  “Both of us.”

  Torrullin’s eyelids flickered. The secret he was to know nothing about. “Wall off what I cannot discover yet. Allow access to the rest.”

  “That is one solution, except …” Elianas looked at him. “Tymall took something away.”

  Torrullin stilled.

  “Trust, Torrullin.”

  A nod, a, silence. “Come home with me for a few hours and allow me the opportunity to prove trustworthy. Please. Love is never petty, Elianas.”

  A breath, and Elianas removed his hands to close Torrullin’s tunic. He smoothed over it when done. “What of the others?”

  “They can wait. We need do this to take the next steps.”

  Elianas nodded. “Fine.”

  “Now?” Torrullin asked.

  “Why not?”

  Chapter 42

  The mind is the strangest animal of all.

  ~ Tattle ~

  Avaelyn

  THEY ALIGHTED IN the atrium in glows of sunshine. The air was warm and welcoming.

  “My bed,” Elianas said, and led the way.

  Sunlight warmed the covers and highlighted the square of comfort like a searchlight. Elianas took one look at it and shook his head.

  “It is too suburban.”

  “There is nothing suburban about this space; it is merely tranquil right now,” Torrullin murmured. “No storm, no gloom, and I have never laid hands on you here. Perfect. I may quest safely.”

  Elianas looked at him. He glanced back at the bed. Fine, so be it. He sat and removed his boots. “Take yours off; you are not standing on my covers wearing those filthy things.”

  Torrullin laughed and did as bid, removing sword and scabbard as well. “I assume Tymall took from you your usual blade. How did you summon the Sword?”

  “It is part of me.”

  “I know, but you have made it separate.”

  “And I can absorb it again. It is energy and I am Alhazen. It takes no thought; it simply is.” Elianas drew his tunic over his head and tossed it to the floor. “Gods, I am hungry and thirsty. Tymall was not free with nourishment.”

  Torrullin paused, closing his eyes. They should be dealing with happened there rather than these complications. Where was their haste leading them? Why was it ever necessary to rush onwards, instead of taking the time to deal with each issue in order o
f priority?

  “Maybe you should eat first.”

  Elianas laughed lightly. “And maybe, when you hear my stomach growl, you will hurry it up.” He stood. “Do I need to take breeches off also?”

  Torrullin’s lids flickered. “No.”

  Elianas lay down.

  Torrullin did not move.

  “Do it,” Elianas murmured. “I understand, Torrullin. I am aware I created chaos with my attitude. Normal people would still be saying the words of appreciation, but there is nothing normal about what happened. My way of coping is …” He shrugged and looked away. “Outer chaos is easier to bear than the inner turmoil.”

  “Lift your arms above your head and do not move,” Torrullin said after a moment, standing at the foot of the bed.

  Elianas blinked as he did as asked. “This is scaring you, isn’t it?”

  “You have no idea.” Torrullin knelt on the edge and shuffled forward until he straddled Elianas’ hips on his knees.

  Elianas froze, eyes unreadable. He also paled.

  Torrullin placed a hand on his chest, and Elianas shoved him aside, scrabbling away to come to rest against the wall at the head of the bed. “Do not touch me.”

  Torrullin remained on his knees staring at him. “I will not hurt you.”

  “They all say that. Leave me alone.”

  “’They’, Elianas?”

  “People.”

  “Who?”

  “Nemisin. Cassy, my father.”

  “How did your father hurt you?”

  “He lied.”

  “About what?”

  “You.”

  Torrullin sat and rested his hands on his knees. “I will not do anything. Talk to me, Elianas.”

  The dark man stared at him for a long time and gradually returned to a more normal position, sitting on the pillows, clearly ready to bolt.

  “I told him I heard music when I dreamed of love, and he said it meant I would find someone as special as my mother was to him, but when I mentioned I heard the music at Avaelyn …” Elianas clammed up and looked away.

  “How was he to tell you it meant you were lost to him?” Torrullin said. “Tingast was a great sorcerer; he understood it meant your loyalty would be transferred to me, and Nemisin would throw his playthings out of his arena as a result. He hoped to change it, I suspect.”

  “And then vanished.”

  “I did not murder him.”

  “I know that now, but …”

  “Your father loved you. He never hurt you.”

  “People should not lie, Torrullin.”

  “And we are back with me.”

  Glittering eyes. “Can you deny you lied?”

  “No. So did you.”

  “I learned from a master.”

  Torrullin watched him. “This is about Tymall touching you. He invaded you in other ways, and you hate that. You do not want me to understand how badly. It is not the issue of trust; it is me knowing how hurt you truly are.”

  Elianas closed his eyes.

  Torrullin clambered off the bed. “I am going to make us something to eat.”

  “We do not have time to spare. People are dying. Menllik demands redress, you know that.”

  “We shall take as long as you need first,” Torrullin said, and left the chamber.

  ELIANAS WANDERED THE dwelling in bare feet, bare-chested, absorbing sunlight, while Torrullin prepared a light and nourishing meal.

  When Elianas showed no sign of heading to the kitchen, he took it out to the deck alongside the larger fishpond, laid a table there and sat under the shifting willow fronds, eating slowly.

  Elianas joined him eventually and ate in silence, chewing every mouthful as if he would never eat again. He drank copious amounts of water after every swallow. Torrullin finished long before him and watched him. Anxiety tugged at his gut. Neither said a word.

  When he was done, Elianas stacked the dishes together. “I will wash up. Stay here.”

  Torrullin nodded, leaned back in his chair, closed his eyes and left him to it. He must have fallen asleep, for Elianas’ touch awakened him.

  He stared up with bleary eyes and the truth spilled out. “By all gods, I thought you were dead. There was no trace after Excelsior imploded. Belun knocked me unconscious and took me to the Dome, and Lowen fetched me away to a safe place. She took me out of the Gatherers’ Circle without employing an ogive, said you told her how to do so in a vision. That was when I knew you were alive. I was undone, without hope, and then I was restored. Thank the gods you are alive.”

  Elianas’ eyes were far too dark to read. “Damaged.”

  “Are we not all damaged in some way? I do not care how bad it is; I know I would rather have you alive and damaged than perfect only in memory. Another lengthy wait for your return will end whatever sanity I still possess. I may shatter in such a wait.”

  Elianas hunkered, his expression neutral. “I want you to touch me even if I find it distasteful to share how much he hurt me.”

  “We take as long as you need,” Torrullin murmured.

  “That might be too long. Do it.”

  “The thought of you finding my touch distasteful is unbearable.”

  “And the thought of dragging this out is unbearable to me. Do it and I can lose feelings in renewed action. Take us to the place of confrontation, Torrullin, and set me loose. Let me kill something to allay rage and humiliation and betrayal and all the rest of it. No more esoteric crap, no more questions - just action.”

  “That could be the worst road to healing.”

  Elianas shrugged and stood. “So be it.”

  Torrullin studied him some more and realised Elianas was at a new edge, and the only way to pull him away from the brink now was to do exactly as he asked. He rose and stretched, and noted the sun was going down.

  Those waiting at the palisade had to be wondering. Valleur were mourning the dead. Tianoman and Teroux were prisoners not only to a Warlock, but the spectre of Shadow Wings.

  Indeed. Let Elianas kill to allay rage and humiliation and betrayal, and he would be with him every step of the way.

  To get to that point meant taking this first step. Touch. Through fear and distaste. Perhaps it was far easier to handle than desire.

  “Fine. Where?”

  “Same.”

  Elianas led the way inside.

  AMBER LIGHT SUFFUSED the chamber in glory. At any other time both would have halted to acknowledge the beauty, but now it barely factored.

  Elianas removed his breeches as well, no doubt taunting his fear, and lay down.

  Torrullin straddled him as before, and then the beauty of the moment arrested every movement. Amber light bathed amber skin until it was shining. A light sheen of sweat covered Elianas, and thus pinpricks of magic danced on his skin. The same magic played upon his face, light skittering across the new twin scars.

  “Torrullin, get on with it.”

  “Elianas, my heart is yours.”

  Dark eyes were tawny in sunset’s glow. “Don’t.”

  “I do not care about Lowen or Alik or anyone else.”

  Elianas surged up onto his elbows. “Stop it. I do not want to hear that.”

  Torrullin leaned forward onto his arms. “In fact, make love to her.”

  “Why?”

  “So I may feel what you feel.”

  Elianas growled and pushed at Torrullin. “Are we going to do this or not?”

  Torrullin said no more. He placed his hands on Elianas’ chest and pressed lightly, questing with touch for nuances. Elianas remained on his elbows staring at him, mouth set into a grim line.

  Hands moved, and then he snatched them away. Torrullin got off the bed and left the chamber.

  “For Aaru’s sake, what now?” No reply was forthcoming, and Elianas swore and set off after him. He caught up in the passage where once Quilla played negotiator when they came too close to surrender. “Talk to me! Have you an answer?”

  “Oh, yes, I have a fucking answer.
” Torrullin kept on walking.

  “Well?”

  “I cannot be objective.”

  Elianas came to a halt as that sank in. He realised Torrullin was at a new edge also and the only way to pull him from the brink was to allow him a degree of access.

  “I lied.”

  Torrullin swung around up ahead.

  “I need you to touch me so badly I am prepared to lie to hide that need. I need you to help me forget, and it frightens me just how much I want that from you.”

  Silence, and then, “Why are you hard to read, damn it?”

  Elianas closed the space between them. “No more talk.”

  He tore Torrullin’s tunic open and pulled the man against him, and momentum took them to the wall. Skin touched skin and slithered together.

  “Put your hands on me, for god’s sake, before I go mad.”

  Torrullin slammed his hands to the wall and did not move again.

  “Who is hard to read now?” Elianas muttered. “Damn you.”

  “How definitive are your lines, Elianas?”

  “About as entrenched as your desire to regard us as brothers.”

  “Ah. Not so entrenched, then.”

  Elianas moved to arch against Torrullin. “Clearly not,” he murmured, eyes glittering in the gloom of the passage. He placed his hands on Torrullin’s hips and pulled him closer. His fingers dug in hard. “Gods, I hate that you can do this to me.”

  Torrullin released his rigid stance, lowering his elbows to the wall as well; it pressed Elianas tight to the cold stone with no escape. Then his hands dropped to insert between wall and flesh, a tight fit that allowed him to read every shiver upon the man’s skin, but questions and answers regarding passage through the void were far from thought.

  He did, however, realise the depth of rage Elianas sought to contain over what Tymall did to him. It was not merely for the recent torture, but also for the dishonour in Digilan. That rage was directed at him as well, for Tymall was his son.

  “Use my anger,” Elianas groaned.

  A breath of absolute silence, a moment of expectation without movement, and then lips sought lips and frenzy assumed control.