Caballa kneeled beside her. “Are you all right?”
“Confused as hell. It was not future, Caballa, it was a visitation. I don’t know what to think.”
“Shh,” Sabian went, on the edge of hearing.
Lowen pulled a face at him and leaned in to whisper into Caballa’s ear, “We did right in staying, know that. No matter how Torrullin and Tristan react, for this we need be here.”
Caballa nodded. “As I thought. So we break into a fort of shadows and wings - cannot be too hard.”
They grinned at each other, and Sabian motioned and they cautiously followed him into deeper planes of shades.
Overhead thunder rattled the clouds.
Shadow Wing Fort
“WHAT ARE YOU DOING?” Teroux screamed.
Torrullin ignored all to assume stance, and lifted his sword.
“You kill me, and we all go poof,” Tymall said. He had not moved a muscle. “Draw a drop of my blood and those goddamned contradictory wings return to you. When that happens, everything here vanishes.”
“I do not care,” Torrullin said, and took the step that would gift him leverage for the swing.
“But I do.” Tianoman Valla stepped in before his father. “As Vallorin and Valla I have to consider what it would mean for Teroux, Tristan and Sirlasin, at the least. I also have to consider what it would mean for our people if I was to go poof.” He braced and stared Torrullin directly in the eyes. “This Vallorin commands you to stand down.”
Torrullin did not lower the blade.
Elianas’ placed a hand on the blade’s edge and pushed it down. “Allow me,” he said, and drew the Lumin Sword. Instead of assuming stance, he offered it hilt first to Tymall. “It can be yours.”
Tymall blinked and fixated on the weapon. Nervously, he licked his lips.
Elianas stepped closer, holding it out.
Tymall stepped back. “I do not want it.” When Elianas followed, he reached out to grab Tianoman to him. “I will hurt him, you fuck, if you come one step closer!”
Elianas halted and Torrullin stepped up beside him. Both were wordless, staring at Tymall as if he were a grotesque insect to pulverise underfoot.
Tristan barged past, gripped Tianoman and yanked him free. Spinning his cousin the Vallorin aside, he slapped at Tymall’s chest, sending the Warlock stumbling back.
As Tymall found footing, Tristan drew his sword. “I do not care about Shadow Wings; they cannot affect me. I do care about my family … and you are not it.” Tristan lifted the blade, twirled, and sliced for Tymall’s throat.
Even a child without an idea of swordplay would understand the action was meant to sever a head from a body.
Teroux shouted, Tianoman called out and Teighlar sighed. Sirlasin nearly swallowed his tongue.
Tymall braced.
Torrullin and Elianas remained wordless and did not move other than to glance swiftly at each other.
The gem on Tymall’s forehead flashed once as the folded steel edge reached the skin of his throat.
The blade disintegrated.
Tristan sprawled senseless a moment after.
Tianoman, after staring in horror at his father for the briefest moment, knelt beside him.
“Ungrateful vermin, all of you!” Tymall roared. “You repay my act of kindness with murderous intent? Did I not just save your sorry arses? How dare you!”
“Oh, save it,” Torrullin said. “You were never good at theatrics.”
“He is good at self-aggrandisement, though,” Elianas muttered.
Again they glanced at each other, and this time gazes locked and held.
“Will you trust me to find the way that cannot affect others?” Torrullin asked.
“Yes.”
“That pleases me.”
A smile. “Good.”
“Fuck!” Teroux screeched. “More of the same!”
Tianoman rose then and cuffed his cousin into silence, and glared at him, before glancing at Torrullin. “Tristan is fine.”
Tymall stepped forward. “For the foreseeable future, we hold off trying to kill each other. Agreed?”
“As you say,” Torrullin murmured.
Elianas lifted a shoulder.
“I like your scars, Elianas,” Tymall said. “Nice touch.”
“A reminder you will not walk from this place alive.” Elianas met the taunting gaze head on.
Tymall grunted. “We shall see. Follow me.”
Path
SHE STOOD ON A ridge overlooking a city.
Underfoot all was black, grass and bush and flower burnt to cinders. It was eerily quiet, the kind that followed when life fled. Not a bird made a sound; no insect droned.
It was a city of some size, home to a million and more. Tall buildings reached for the heavens and grand thoroughfares dissected the ground scape. Suburbs of fancy homes and suburbs of hovels; that contradiction present where too many people pressed into the same space, and this was no different. A city folded unto itself when overwhelmed with numbers.
Smoke curled in still air. The smell of intense fire. The smell of charred meat.
The city was not empty, but life had fled.
“How?” she asked the emptiness.
“This is what happens when a Timekeeper is incomplete.” Ixion stood at her side, an ethereal form. “To function he draws life from others.”
Lowen looked away.
AND STARED INTO Caballa’s eyes.
“It is not usual for visions to follow each other this swiftly,” Caballa murmured.
“I know. There is big trouble coming. And it comes faster than expected.”
Citadel
“SURROUND THAT MISERABLE pile of stones with all we have!” Bannerman shouted. “A siege. No retreat until they surrender!”
Horatio fingered his chin. “You suggest the Warlock has chosen a different side.”
“Why else allow his enemies within?”
Horatio was not a general for nothing; strategy, manipulation and reading the winds of war were his areas of speciality. “To have them close, Bannerman. To bait them and to know the results at close quarters.”
“Maybe. And yet it is a fact Torrullin Valla is his father. It is hard to turn from that kind of connection.”
Horatio stared through the murky windows of the citadel. Bannerman no doubt hoped his son would act according to that kind of connection, but it would not help the situation to point out the lad had been too long removed from family and the halls of politics to count on it happening.
He addressed something else instead. “You need get inside as well. To know the results first-hand.”
Bannerman frowned and moved to an adjacent window. He, too, stared out, marking the darkness within the cloud cover. It looked and felt as if a storm was about to unleash.
“How?”
“Knock at the gates,” Horatio shrugged, “and demand entrance. With our host surrounding him, he may choose to be temporarily amenable.”
Bannerman laced his hands behind his back and balanced on his toes. His wife would know this sequence of movements accompanied thoughts that weighed actions and results.
“We throw it all at them, agreed? And we do not cease until there is absolute result.”
“Agreed.” Horatio’s eyes glittered.
A general was a soldier also, always.
Shadow Wing Fort
SABIAN GESTURED, AND they flitted into the shadows alongside the far wall of the fort. He gestured again, and they followed him swiftly along the curve.
A moment after that they vanished into the blind an ancient architect had created in the outer perimeter. A minute later Sabian disengaged the lock of a stout door.
They were inside.
Chapter 56
A siege is last resort. Ensure your leadership, Majesty, or the endeavour will fail.
~ Awl ~
Shadow Wing Fort
TYMALL STOOD BEFORE ELIANAS. “What are you most afraid of?” he said, eyes wide and app
arently guileless.
“You should have held on, Tymall, when you had me at your mercy,” Elianas said, his tone expressionless. Cold. “It will not come to pass again.”
A smile and a shrug answered him first. “The fortune of everything resident in realms is able to change without warning. I suggest you do not offer definitive statements of that nature. You must know I would seek to use it.”
Elianas leaned forward. “Try. Please.”
“I aim to.” Tymall swung away … into his father.
Torrullin gripped his shoulders and pedalled him backwards away from the others, his gaze intent. When he judged they were beyond hearing range, he shoved Tymall aside and braced before him.
“Know this, son. I have insulted all I stand for and everything the Valleur hold sacred when I allowed you life at birth. I furthered that insult when I permitted you an opportunity for redemption when your son was born. And I cemented the insult when I released my wings and thus inadvertently sanctioned life for you a third time.” He echoed Elianas’ statement. “It will not come to pass again.”
“You insulted Elianas, father. You do not care what the Valleur think.”
Eyes silvered. “That is the real truth, yes.”
“And yet you are wary now. I know something about the Danae he has not shared with you.” Tymall spread his hands.
A nod. “Another truth.”
“I am happy to share.”
“Why? A secret is only effective when it remains a secret.”
Tymall laughed. “Not this one. I think, however, you would prefer that he tells you. It is of greater import to you to have him reveal something hidden, than it is to simply hear the words from another.”
Torrullin inclined his head. “And that would be another truth.”
Tymall’s expression pulled inward, a snarl blossoming. “I wish you had been this forthcoming upon neutral ground. Truth is nuance I could have used to effect.”
“It still is, but now it remains in-house.”
Tymall surged forward … and discovered Elianas in his path. “Out of my way.”
“Fuck off,” Elianas said. “Your father and I have something to discuss.”
“You intend telling him your little secret?” Tymall challenged.
“I do.”
“How sweet. I look forward to his reaction.”
“Fuck off.”
Tymall strode away, throwing the finger of offence over his shoulder.
Torrullin’s heart thundered, but he did not move. He waited until Elianas had shifted to face him. “Arli says when you release your burden I must let it lie and gift you a future unencumbered.”
“Your Arli is wise, but this is a burden that cannot be discarded. It can be shared, and the sharing will burden both of us.”
“Ah. Gods.” Torrullin’s suddenly traitorous heart set up an uneven rhythm. “Is this the truth you would prefer hidden?”
Elianas lifted hands to his hair. Fingers threaded and he closed his eyes. “It is, but Tymall knows and so does Tian and Quilla. Tristan also, because we trust him. One day soon one will accidentally let it out. Like to you, I prefer you hear it from me.” Eyes opened, but his hands continued threading, a convulsive movement that bespoke inner tension. “Now?”
Torrullin pinched his nose. “This is not the place, but it is the time.”
Elianas’ hands dropped. He stared at the ground. “Time, yes.”
“Why do the others know?” Torrullin meant Quilla, Tianoman and Tristan, for Tymall was an entirely different matter.
“The Syllvan told Quilla and Tian. That sharing is not mine. I did tell Tris, because I needed to tell someone.”
Torrullin closed in. “Tell me.”
Eyes lifted. “I am a true immortal, but the gift has come to me at a price.”
Cold dread infused Torrullin’s every pore. “What price?”
“Death, Torrullin, and isn’t that just a contradiction to beat all?”
Torrullin gripped a shoulder and hauled the man closer. “How?”
“Periodic death.”
Torrullin swallowed. “How? When? How often? Why, by all gods?”
Elianas suffered the intensifying grip on his shoulder without flinching. “How is open to interpretation. I assume, however, it would take quite an event. When should be infrequent, around once every age, but someone could manipulate the timing. Why? Energy requires it. Change of state to herald renewed strength.”
Eyes locked. “Tymall attempted to rob you of your energy in the dungeons.”
“He came close, yes. Whether or not he would have pushed me over that line, I do not know. He needed you to find me hurt, but I know he desires nothing more than seeing me dead.”
Torrullin lifted his fingers. “Now that I know, he will push for the ultimate result.”
“Yes.”
Abruptly Torrullin bent over, heaving hands on knees. “Fuck me, quite the secret.”
Silence.
Torrullin straightened to thread his hands through his hair.
“I cannot die, Torrullin. I leave for a time, the real truth, and it feels like death to those left behind … to you. I hope to avoid it, because you recently admitted a long wait will shatter you anew. I will, however, return when the transmutation is complete. How long the separation will be, could be, must be, I do not yet know.”
Torrullin forced his hands to stillness, hooked them into his sword belt. “How long have you known this?”
“Since the Path of Shades.”
“How did Tymall find out?”
“Shadow Wings, you idiot.”
“No, that is too simplistic. I possessed them first and I did not even suspect.”
“Releasing them was tantamount to a manipulation of energy, a surge of knowing which became Tymall’s when he reached for another chance at life.” Elianas prodded at Torrullin’s chest. “Had you repossessed your wings before now, you would have known also.”
Torrullin’s face shuttered. “And that is the real reason you choose to tell me. You seek understanding now before the shades inherent in wings drives me to something … rash.”
Elianas stared at him. “Now you read nuance that does not exist.”
“I wonder.”
“You are angry.”
“Hmm, imagine my anger had I come to this knowledge with bloody wings riding my back.”
“You are being selfish.”
“Yes. Forgive me.” Torrullin’s eyes were silvery. “I do not know how to accept this yet.”
Elianas shrugged. “I get it. Imagine how it rankled when I discovered this truth. We spent long years and ages together only to suffer enforced parting; I had thought that done with.” Elianas paused there, and frowned.
Torrullin said, “You are thinking I would want this. I want to die; I will try and take it from you. Can I? Take it?”
“I do not know.” Dark eyes bored into grey. “But if you succeed in the trying, know this, I shall die and cannot ever return.”
Torrullin closed his eyes.
Elsewhere
THE FAR END OF THE passage shifted. A wobble that warped the centre to pull it left while above and below it meandered to the right. Beyond was darkness.
Sabian held a hand aloft and came to a halt. He stared and stared, his vision tunnelling along the dank rock on either side.
It shifted again.
He could swear it was nearer.
“Turn around,” he said, “and carefully go back the way we came. Try not to make a sound.” He looked over his shoulder. “Not a footfall.”
“It relies on vibration for direction,” Caballa murmured, staring ahead.
“What is it?” Lowen said.
“Perhaps the extent of the reach of whatever holds this place together.” Sabian shrugged. “Not everything can make sense here.”
They retreated. A step, two, three, and nothing happened. The wobble did not encroach. Cranckshaw stumbled. A dull thud echoed along the rock.
&n
bsp; Sabian glanced back and hollered, “Run!”
The shifting in reality appeared to solidify, and it seemed as if a mouth formed in the centre of the darkness. A mouth voracious, spiked teeth, a raw red throat. It had more to do with fear than reality - if reality as concept could be applied - but none there gave thought to that.
Lowen gripped the architect and hauled him onward and behind her Caballa and Sabian’s footfalls reverberated as if they were the bass accompaniment of death’s opera.
They rounded a corner, and fell into darkness.
Main chamber
A SONIC BOOM SOUNDED, causing everyone to freeze in position.
“Is that Horatio?” Tristan demanded.
Tymall shook his head immediately and watched his feet as if attempting to see through stone. “That would be the alarum for intruders.” He lifted his head. “Four.”
“Who? Bannerman?” Tianoman said.
“Bannerman would request entrance. And although Horatio surrounds us with his entire army at the moment, neither he nor soldiers dispatched to that end seek admittance on the sly.” Tymall smiled. “It appears the Dome left without all on board.”
Torrullin strode nearer. Elianas, markedly silent, remained in the shadows. “Who is it?”
Tymall shrugged. “Hard to tell while they fall in the dark.”
“Father.”
Tymall shifted his gaze to Tianoman. “A trap, one that will hold them at the end of the journey, not harm them.” He returned his focus to Torrullin. “Among them is Lowen.”
Elianas swore in the shadows.
Tymall laughed.
“Take us to them,” Tristan said.
“And why should I listen to you, Skyler? Should you not concentrate on aiding your injured?”
Torrullin raked a hand through his hair and pressed his lips together. Frustration with the situation would see him do something stupid merely to shift the dynamics. Change ever heralded different paths.
Tymall’s watched him. “He told you.”
Lore of Sanctum Omnibus Page 179
