Lore of Sanctum Omnibus

by Elaina J Davidson

  “How can you say that?” Elianas growled.

  “Ages and ages of denial, no more than your hands and mouth on my back when it stormed, and now we are in a new time together for the first time without history clouding every bloody move we make. I am not going back to what was. I feel you in every breath - call it twisted, call it obsession, call it evil, wrong …”

  Elianas crouched over him. “It is wrong now.”

  “And I do not care,” Torrullin groaned.

  “It cannot be completed, Torrullin. I am willing to fall into the abyss with you and will suffer the name calling after, but we have a line made of the blood we share. We do not cross.”

  “How far do we go?”

  “Whatever form satisfaction is allowed to take.”

  “I need more than that,” Torrullin gasped, fingers digging into Elianas’ back. “Much more. I am sick of denial.”

  Elianas lowered until they just touched. “The only way to experience the consequences of thrust …”

  “All gods.” Torrullin arched.

  It nearly undid the man over him. His breath came out in short, sharp gaps. “… is with Lowen between us.”

  Torrullin groaned and his fingers dug in deeper. “So be it.”

  Elianas gasped a final breath of sanity and lowered his weight onto the man beneath him.

  So be it. All gods, indeed.

  Chapter 47

  “… release the chains …”

  ~ Tarlinn ~

  Shadow Wing Fort

  TYMALL RAGED, TEROUX cowered in a corner, and Tianoman lost his temper.

  “Father! Cease! How do you function when fury clouds your judgement?”

  Tymall swung to him. “He did this! He manipulated everything to his advantage again. Even with wings and a vacuum made mine, he still plays the stronger hand. I cannot win!”

  It was music to Tianoman’s ears, but he maintained a neutral expression. “Perhaps it is to your advantage having the players in one space.”

  “No! The Dome? Even with the bloody anti-magic citadel, we are outnumbered. And to up the ante, he bloody brought some other little nondescript wood thing and that probably has power I can only guess at. Damn it to hell!”

  “There are soldiers by the thousand at the citadel.”

  “Sheep. Do I suffocate him with numbers? This is bloody Torrullin Valla we are talking about here.”

  Thank the gods. Torrullin had come. Tianoman murmured in a pacifying tone, “Calm down, father, and think it through. No one is invincible.”

  “Should have held onto Elianas,” Tymall muttered, storming around the chamber. “Leverage. Instead I gave him back and pissed him off too much.”

  “You hurt him. That was the point.”

  Tymall roared, “And he healed his bloody lover! Now I have Alhazen baying at my door also!”

  Tianoman sat. Glancing at Teroux, he said, “It cannot now be undone. Think. What do you want us to do?”

  Tymall came to a dead stop, and then pointed impulsively at Teroux. “You! You get close and you kill him.”

  Teroux whimpered, and Tianoman said, “Teroux cannot kill Torrullin or Elianas.”

  Teroux sent him a grateful look.

  Tymall paused. “No, but he can do something else. Teroux Valla, come here.” He crooked his finger.

  Teroux did not move.

  “Leave him, please,” Tianoman whispered.

  Tymall swung to him. “Son, your reasonable tone is driving me crazy. Please leave Teroux and me alone. Go down to the kitchens and find us coffee. Now.”

  Tianoman glared at his father, but knew he was in shaky territory. “Teroux, be strong.” Mouth set in a grim line, he left. He prayed his father would not ask more than Teroux could give.

  TYMALL LIFTED TEROUX to his feet, dragged him up. “Now you listen to me. I have a job for you, and if you are very quiet and really smart, it will be painless and also swiftly done. Do this task well, return here successful and I swear your father Tannil will be waiting and you can take him and go home.”

  “I-I can’t … he … they … they’ll know … scared …”

  Tymall bared his teeth like a rabid wolf. “Now you listen to me, you lily-livered …”

  Teroux stared up at him, eyes stark.

  Tymall threw him aside, swearing. He paced away, muttering, and then came to a halt. Meeting Teroux’s terrified gaze, he said, “Perhaps you require impetus. Cowards always require a carrot, do they not?”

  He reached out and grabbed Teroux’s arm.

  “Come with me.”

  Crucible Cavern

  BLUE GLOWS HIGHLIGHTED the fissures in the cavern; some hairline cracks, others the width of a large man.

  Light came from the ground, a glowing circumference. The floor was smooth and level. This was not water’s doing; this was a space created, a marriage of nature’s gifts and the hands of industry. It was black and reflected no light; it reminded of the dais upon which the Valleur Throne perched.

  A silver knocker protruded from the blackness ahead, otherworldly because it was set in the floor and not upon a door somewhere. It was in the shape of a cathron, Valaris’ mighty predator cat. A cat no one had seen, ever, and still legends abounded.

  Four tall white pillars lifted the incongruity of the cavern into the realm of imaginative architecture. Had someone imagined this place, or was it as real as sight and touch revealed?

  Between the pillars, set as two and two to form the points of a perfect square, a cylinder reached from floor to ceiling. Of glass the thickness of a man’s forearm, it was the greatest manipulation, whether the cavern was of imagination or reality. Someone had settled it there, deliberately. Heavy as it had to be, it was thus set down via magical influence. The blue glows touched upon vapour swirling and twisting within. This was a crucible for the substance of ether.

  Tymall preceded Teroux in.

  “This is akin to Grinwallin’s crucible, not that I have had the pleasure of seeing it. Here is a depository for sacred tools, and it functions as a portal.”

  Teroux was wordless. Not so Tianoman, who had followed them on impulse after seeing in his father’s expression something Teroux needed to be protected from.

  “Is this the source of the power used to build this place?”

  Tymall turned on the balls of his feet. “A Vallorin who knows the meaning of stealth. Interesting.”

  “It must be in my blood.”

  “Hmm. Come closer, Tian. Why not share this, when I have your word, not so? See that?” Tymall pointed at the cathron knocker. “A link to Valaris. My blood was conceived and grown on Valaris and thus the connection. The black floor, the connection to Valleur power. The crucible, the connection to Grinwallin, if only as a nod at something heard of. Rough rock, the connection to Avaelyn, not that I have seen it either.” His mouth twisted briefly before he went on. “The pillars connect to Akhavar.”

  “Imagination draws on memory.”

  “Exactly, and thus it is real. But not purely memory; tales also, as well as the past, our shared past.”

  Tianoman stared down at the silver cathron. And looked up. “Why?”

  “’Travel negates time and time negates travel’.”

  “What does that mean?”

  “It is a warning, Tian, one my father recently heard, but one I have known of for a long time.”

  A frown erupted onto the young Valla leader’s face. “That does not clarify anything.”

  “It has to do with timekeepers, and timekeepers require a means of travel.” Tymall gestured at the murky cylinder. “A portal.”

  Tianoman sighed. “A portal is a portal. Is it the source, is it an escape hatch - what?”

  Tymall glanced at Teroux to see if he listened. He was. “It is the kind of portal that summons pieces and holds those pieces until every sliver is in place.”

  Teroux ran to the cylinder. He placed his hands on the glass and stared into the inner depths. “Is he there? Is he inside?”
/>   “You are cruel, father,” Tianoman said, his tone quiet. “Why do this to him?”

  “Because I can.” Tymall strode to the cylinder and braced behind Teroux. “Tannil is not yet there, Teroux, but I shall now commence the summons.”

  Teroux turned his head.

  “Of course, I expect you to follow my directives.”

  “Do not listen to him, cousin,” Tianoman said. “Please be true to what is right. This isn’t right.”

  “Teroux.”

  “Whatever you ask.” Teroux nodded.

  Tymall smiled. “Good. Tian, please leave us.”

  “No.”

  “We can do this your way, son, without bloodshed, or we can do it my way. I will hurt him until you do leave, and still what you hope to avoid will come to pass.”

  Tianoman retreated after a moment of inner debate. It was not a battle he could win at this point.

  TEROUX HEARD NONE of that; his attention was focused inside the cylinder. “Please commence the summons.”

  Tymall grinned mirthlessly and closed in to place one hand splayed on the glass; the other lifted to his brow. A murmur, and the Warlock circlet appeared there, the central gem flashing in the outlandish perimeter glows. He murmured more, a low monologue that went on for some minutes.

  Teroux stared fixedly into the swirling mists.

  Tymall stepped back. “It is done. Now we wait.”

  “How long?”

  “Perhaps minutes for the first sliver, but certainly days for the whole package.”

  “Can I stay here?”

  “You will now do as I ask. When it is done I will allow you time down here.”

  Teroux was unmoving, before he nodded agreement. He stepped reluctantly away only to hurtle forward to smash his face against the glass.

  Movement in the mist. A shadow of something.

  It looked like a hand.

  “Father!” Teroux screamed.

  Avaelyn

  ELIANAS’ GRIP TIGHTENED on the Maghdim Medaillon and faced the ocean. It was time to build a bridge that would take him and Torrullin into a realm of confrontation.

  Before he could start the process, Torrullin spoke. “Are we doing what is right?”

  Elianas’ dark eyes were unreadable. “We are doing what is best.”

  Torrullin’s hand lifted to clasp the one at his chest holding the Medaillon. “Surely it should be the same?”

  “It is too late to second guess, Torrullin. Stop it.”

  Grey eyes silvered. Ever they did so when Torrullin’s mind engaged in a manner not easy to fathom. “You do realise we could simply do nothing.”

  Elianas bit out an oath and pulled his hand from the clasp around the magical device. “And leave family and friends to die in a place beyond every reality? They have not our awareness to escape from there.”

  Torrullin’s eyes silvered further. “And yet, here and now, there is you and me and Avaelyn, alone. Our enemies are trapped somewhere else. And family and friends can be a burden, Elianas. If we do nothing, we are free.”

  Elianas stared at him. “You do not mean that.”

  “Tell me you do not find it attractive.”

  A beat of absolute silence. “Stop it.”

  Torrullin smiled. “Just testing. I am not the only one tempted.”

  “And that pleases you?”

  “Yes.”

  Elianas stepped closer and lifted the Medaillon on Torrullin’s chest to clasp it anew. “Why is that?”

  “I like to know I can still read you. Build the bridge, Elianas.”

  He did.

  Part IV

  MIST AND SHADOW

  Chapter 48

  Be wary of neutrality, friend. Neutrals are fence-sitters.

  ~ Arli of Pendulim ~

  Circle of Confrontation

  IN A TWILIGHT ZONE there can be no day and night, no line to mark and separate one period from another; lack of change rules all.

  This place in another space, outside of time, view and the reality of impact, was exactly like that. Unchanging. Gloomy. A twilight zone loaded with possibility and nuance, precisely the way two particular men needed it to be. They functioned, after all, in shadows.

  When they walked out together onto the grass common, the multiverse held its breath. Much depended on choices made in these shades.

  Only Caballa and Tristan were also on the common, the two whispering together intently.

  Tristan looked up first, hearing footfalls, and his face changed an instant after he looked them over. He was not quite certain why, but understood something was now different.

  “The citadel is here,” he said. “I have no idea how you pulled it off.”

  “Does not matter,” Elianas murmured. He looked about with narrowed eyes. “We need to mark direction. Four paths, exactly the same; hard to tell where one is in a battle.”

  A shout interrupted them. “This is the place where magic quails in terror!”

  They turned as one.

  A man stood belligerently at the edge of a path to their left.

  “And who are you?” Torrullin called out.

  “General Horatio, Elixir!”

  Ah. President Bannerman’s war leader. “This area is neutral ground. Feel free to enter.”

  Horatio was not very tall, but he was imposing in chest, shoulders, bristling brows and presence. A man comfortable on a battlefield. A man born for war. He strode forward.

  “Clever, this neutral ground. How neutral is it, exactly?”

  “Absolutely. No magic, no bomb, no combat. Try squeezing a round off if you do not believe me.” Torrullin gestured at the man’s sidearm.

  “I take your word for it. I do not know how you did it, but I am impressed. I assume no one leaves now until a result is certain.”

  Torrullin inclined his head.

  Cold eyes gleamed. “I almost like it better this way.”

  “As do I.”

  “Yes, at least you were never one to cower behind a bush rife with politicians.” Horatio looked around in much the same manner as Elianas had. “I agree with him. Mark the paths.” A cold smile. “Not that I mind one of yours wandering down to the citadel, but I aim to keep mine close.”

  Torrullin gave a nod. “I suggest one universal day cycle to install markers and to … find our bearings.”

  “Lay plans, is what you mean to say.”

  Torrullin loosed an equally cold smile. “That, too.”

  “Agreed.” Horatio turned on his heel and strode away and, as he entered into the path he left from, he was already barking orders.

  “Gods, this will get bad,” Tristan muttered. He pointed at the path one down from where the general vanished. “The Dome. Damn it, I wish it was not here.”

  “The Dome is strongest,” Torrullin said. “We need her.”

  Tristan kissed Caballa’s cheek. “I will see you in a while. We must see to the marker.” He gave Torrullin and Elianas another strange glance, and left.

  Torrullin faced Caballa. “The Dome is safest. If it goes awry, take everyone there. It alone can be moved away.”

  She nodded without words.

  Torrullin laughed. “Man, you can be like Quilla with your silences. Spit it out.”

  She said nothing to him; instead she reached up to touch Elianas’ cheek, the new scars there. “Did Tymall do this?”

  He flinched, and then managed to nod.

  She held her hand in place, her eyes saying what words could not, and removed it to stand arms akimbo. She spoke to Torrullin. “You have better explaining to do. And we cannot be running across this common every time we need confer.”

  “The Dome.”

  “Yes. That wood thing gifts little confidence.” She eyed him.

  He stared back.

  “Thought so,” she muttered, and twisted around to start walking to a path opposite the one Tristan vanished along. “The Palisade is that way. We need gather the others.”

  The two men glanced at each othe
r and fell into step on either side.

  “What exactly did you have confirmed just now, Caballa?” Elianas asked.

  She smiled and did not say anything.

  Torrullin growled.

  Elianas spluttered into laughter.

  She grinned at him. “Just that certain shields remain in place.”

  Elianas laughed. “The real shielding did not translate.”

  “Was I talking about sorcery?” she quipped.

  He laughed harder.

  Torrullin muttered under his breath, and she came to a dead stop and faced him. “Keep it under wraps. Lowen is the only one who might understand.”

  He scowled at her, anger suffusing his cheeks with twin red spots. It was unlike him to react in this manner with her, and both knew it. “What are you implying?”

  “Somewhere in this mess Teroux nurses every grudge and Tymall needs the tiniest whiff of rumour to go to excess. The Bannerman kid is innocent, Rose will stand up for her husband, and Alik … well, Teighlar will be a wolf with a sore incisor where her sensibilities are concerned. Quilla is a prude despite everything he claims, and the Elders Senlu and Valleur need tradition to function. I could go on.”

  “And what great and terrible deed have we done that must be kept under wraps?”

  “Torrullin, leave it,” Elianas muttered.

  Both ignored him. Caballa took a pace closer to Torrullin and poked at his chest. “You are sleeping together at last. How far and how much is not important, but what matters is you have taken the step. Certain folk will not be pleased.”

  “I do not care.”

  “I am willing to fall into that abyss with you,” Elianas said.

  Torrullin shifted to him. “But you agree with Caballa.”

  “Publicly, yes.”

  “Then do not mouth about falling in with me.”