Lore of Sanctum Omnibus

by Elaina J Davidson

  Elianas threw his hands up. “No privacy anywhere. I am heading to the kitchen for a drink.” He headed out, but halted beside Sabian. Lifting a hand to the man’s shoulder, he quietly said, “My thanks, my friend.”

  The fair man nodded.

  Elianas left.

  “Sabian?” Torrullin straightened his tunic.

  “He expended much and it was a great risk. Still, he remains Alhazen, Torrullin. This is why I received the sliver. Not only was I to pull him back to this reality, but needed to yank Alhazen as well. It was … hard.”

  Torrullin swallowed. “And?”

  “Alhazen is a lesser power.”

  Torrullin frowned. “He lost some during the realm transition you bore him through?”

  “No, Torrullin. I mean Alhazen is lesser to Danae.”

  Torrullin closed his eyes. The Danae; how many had now mentioned it as a title of supremacy rather than the name Elianas was given in birth? “What is Danae, Sabian?”

  “At this point I have suspicions only.”

  “Likewise,” Torrullin muttered, opening his eyes. “Keep an eye, will you? No, do not spy on him; see what comes up when you use other methods of research.”

  Sabian inclined his head.

  “I need a drink, too.” Scowling, Torrullin headed to the kitchen. In the doorway he stopped. “Thank you for being there for him.”

  Sighing, Sabian followed.

  Chapter 13

  Life is tenacious. Never be too hasty. Look, listen and know.

  ~ Survivor Manual ~

  Balconaru

  ON THE OTHER SIDE of the city, a colossal and ornate iron gate hung askew.

  Alik breathed out relief when it came into view. This terrible traverse through stones and paths of only death was about to end.

  Teighlar, walking ahead, leading her horse, came to a halt. “Lowen, do you feel it?”

  The Xenian clambered from her mount. “I see it also.”

  Alik slid to the cobbles. “What is it?”

  Teighlar lifted an arm. “The barriers are still in place.”

  His daughter squinted, but could not see anything, unless one counted the intermittent spark on an iron spike there to the left … ah. “Now what?” she asked.

  “Something happened to Tannil,” Lowen frowned. “His thoughts no longer countenance this; therefore he has not released the barrier.”

  “Damn it, how does what you say even make sense?” Alik blurted.

  “Lowen is correct,” Teighlar muttered. “The man’s eye is no longer on this horse race.”

  Alik threw her hands into the air, muttering under her breath.

  Scooping up a loose cobble, Lowen tossed it at the gaping gate.

  A sonic boom reverberated throughout the city. The stone skittered in the air as if tracking against glass and hurtled to the right.

  Teighlar snorted. “You know, I think Ancients should have their own bloody realm, a place where they can play chess only with each other.”

  “That would put you in that game, Emperor,” Lowen pointed out.

  He grinned at her. “Imagine it. Me, Torrullin, Elianas, Quilla and Sabian moving pieces the size of mountains because we are bored with the status quo.”

  Lowen rolled her eyes.

  He glanced at Alik. “I am an Ancient, yes.”

  “You need to tell her everything soon,” Lowen said. “Whether you like it or not, here she is, very much part of everything.”

  “I am aware. First we find a way out of this.” Turning the horse, Teighlar started tracking the city’s wall.

  Alik, after a moment, followed.

  Lowen, knowing there was no exit elsewhere, went looking for clean water. The canals throughout the city were soiled with blood and flesh. She found a trough near the gate before a building that had every appearance of a stable, and led her horse to it.

  Leaving the reins to trail, she left the mare to her business, and sat on a nearby stone bench to think.

  Grinwallin

  DECHEND PACED THE Great Hall.

  Under his cloak he clutched the portal box. He was in quandary. By his estimation, time enough had elapsed for the Emperor to return from wherever Alik and Lowen vanished to. Should he wait more or should he have someone use this damnable box to find three missing people? Perhaps that someone would end up the fourth.

  To do nothing, however, did not sit well.

  Decisive then, he strode down the tier steps.

  TIANOMAN CHAFED AGAINST the restrictions of living in a house.

  There was nothing wrong with the Valla home in Grinwallin, but the walls began to close in on him. Back at the Keep he could walk through the Dragon doors when he needed more space; here there was a passage between living and sleeping areas.

  When a knock sounded at the front door, he nearly kissed the air in appreciation of the distraction.

  Dechend stood anxious on the threshold.

  Tianoman stepped back, gesturing.

  Wordless, Dechend entered. With clearly trembling hands, he set the plain wooden box on the low table amidst armchairs and bookshelves.

  “Teighlar is missing as well,” he stated without preamble. “You may not leave here and technically you will not be leaving, but …”

  Tianoman sat to stare at the box. Be careful of what one wished for, bloody hell. “What do I do?”

  “Focus on their location and open the box.” Dechend drew a hopeful breath.

  The Vallorin lifted his gaze. “Call Torrullin next, Elder, if this does not work.”

  Dechend nodded.

  “Tell Aislinn, will you?” Tianoman closed his eyes and lifted the lid.

  Balconaru

  A DISTURBANCE BEHIND THE stable block caused the mare to prance.

  Lowen rose and carefully headed to the corner, only to nearly succumb to fright when Tianoman strode from around that same corner. “Tian!”

  He frowned, looking around. “Where is this?”

  “Balconaru.”

  He lifted an eyebrow at her.

  “Ganimidian Galaxy.”

  His jaw nearly unhinged. “Why?’ he finally managed.

  Lowen burst out laughing and retreated to the bench. There she sat shaking her head.

  “Lowen?” He sat beside her.

  “Why are you not wearing a sword, Tian? You hardly ever wear one.”

  He shrugged, leaning back. “I forget to put it on. With Lunik around I feel as if it threatens him.”

  “Everything is crazy,” she whispered. “It has got to the point where I don’t know what is real anymore. Go for a ride in the morning, land up in a galaxy bloody far away a few sals later, in a dead city with Ancient overtones. How is this reality?” Waving her hand, she added, “Never mind, but I think I will start wearing a sword.”

  He scratched at his head, uncertain what to respond to. “You can fight?’

  “Krikian taught me …” Lowen paused there. “Krikian. Rings. Rings, Tian!”

  “I am sorry?”

  She loosed a loud whistle. Then, lifting her tunic, she undid the small pouch strung from her belt. Shaking it, she tipped it over. Six small objects tumbled out, one rolling into the cobble grooves.

  Tianoman scrabbled after it, to retrieve a ring.

  “Tweezers, nail file, hair clip, lighter and two rings,” Lowen murmured, taking it from him to match it with another on her palm. Shoving the other items away, she stared down at them. “Krikian and I used these to draw the doorway to Torrullin’s Hounding realm.” She looked up.

  “Will they work?” Teighlar called out as he and Alik closed in. Hooves clopped rhythmically on the stone.

  “If we believe, yes.”

  Alik led the mare to the trough and joined them. “There is no other exit. What do these rings do? Hello, Tian.”

  “Dechend, I take it?” Teighlar said.

  Tianoman merely grinned their way. “Hello, Alik.” He added, “The rings work in tandem, though. One to create a doorway; the other to hold
the return path open. I am assuming we do not want a door to here held open. Someone would have to stay behind for that. Will one alone work?”

  “They work together,” Lowen said. “I will wear both simultaneously, creating an exit while closing it behind us,” Lowen said. “All I need do is believe.”

  Teighlar perched on the arm of the bench and snapped his fingers to conjure a flask of wine. Passing it to Alik, he said, “Too risky. I say we wait for Torrullin.”

  Lowen glared at him. “Are we unable to think for ourselves, Emperor? Can we not act without his permission?”

  “Whoa, lady seer, and where is that coming from?”

  “Sorry,” she muttered, looking away.

  “Torrullin deals with his home’s annihilation right now,” Tianoman said.

  “His home’s what?” Lowen blurted. She put a hand to her mouth, and understanding bloomed in her gaze.

  Teighlar lowered the flask from greedy lips. “Now that will put a bull’s-eye on Tannil’s forehead.”

  “Bloody hell, it happened,” Lowen whispered. When they glanced at her, she muttered, “Something I saw a while back.”

  “All of it means Torrullin may take a while to focus,” Tianoman said, frowning at them. “I say we try Lowen’s rings.”

  “I agree,” Alik added.

  “No, the Emperor is correct. It is too risky.”

  “Who said that?” Tianoman said, on his feet, eyes darting. “Do you have another with you?” he demanded of Lowen.

  The sound of Teighlar drawing his sword answered that question.

  “Show yourself!” Teighlar bellowed.

  From the shadowy arches opposite, a man and a young girl emerged, dirty, blood-streaked, clothes torn, both in bare feet.

  Teighlar saw his Senlu in their red hair and pale skins, while Lowen noticed they were taller than average, even the girl. She promised real height in maturity. Alik was mesmerised by the girl’s green eyes. It was akin to gazing into a mirror. The man’s was blue, like her father’s.

  Tianoman stepped forward, drawn to the grief exuding from both. “How may we help you?” he asked, holding his hands out to them.

  Lowen swallowed. That was why Tianoman wore no sword. He saw hearts first.

  “We are beyond help in this place,” the man said, “but we thank you for the sentiment.”

  “Get us out,” the girl whispered.

  “Hush, Urial.” The man bowed to Teighlar and when he straightened, he touched his cheek. His tattoo read as Luvan. “My Lord Emperor, my name is Freman and this is my daughter Urial. When the golden man came we hid in the cellars below the cisterns.”

  Teighlar sheathed his sword. “Well met, friends. This is Tianoman, Vallorin of the Valleur …”

  “He is Golden?” the girl whispered fearfully.

  “Tian is not the enemy,” Teighlar said, clearing his throat. He felt suddenly sorry for the young man. This was the first time Tianoman had been face to face with the prejudice many races harboured for the Golden, the might of the Valleur.

  “We will help however we can,” Tianoman said, remaining expressionless.

  “This is Lowen,” Teighlar continued.

  “You have incredible eyes,” Urial said.

  Lowen smiled. “As do you.”

  “And this is Alik, my daughter.”

  Both father and daughter bowed low. “It is good to know the bloodline continues,” Freman said as they straightened.

  Alik cleared her throat, glancing at her father.

  “I assume then you know who I am,” Teighlar muttered.

  “Alexander,” Urial nodded.

  “How can you possibly know?” Teighlar touched his cheek in reference.

  “After Danaan’s volcanoes erupted, ships returned to Orb, my Lord. They arrived soon after an inundation there, but discovered the ruins of Alexander’s Palace. Survivors told of the biological ship that went elsewhere to form the Luvans. We read between those lines and kept our history alive.”

  The girl said, “We knew the day would come when the reincarnate emperor walked the streets of Balconaru.”

  Teighlar looked around him. “I hope I am not the herald of destruction.”

  “No, my Lord. This no one read in any lines,” Freman responded, his eyes tearing.

  “Is there a chance anyone else is still alive?” Lowen asked.

  The girl shook her head. “We have searched.”

  Lowen lifted her fist. “Why are these a risk?”

  Urial pulled a face and turned to her father. He glanced at her and heaved a great sigh.

  “There was among us a sage by the name of Illin, may Eurue take his soul, who possessed twin rings. When the destroyer entered our city days ago, Illin used his rings to draw a portal for escape …” Freman paused there, and then went on a rush. “The first deaths occurred in the portal. It closed on many half in, half out, severing limbs …”

  Urial sobbed. “My mother!”

  Freman drew her close. “Twin rings need two, lady, and one of the two must stay behind.” He squeezed his daughter’s shoulder and stepped away from her. “I shall do so if you will gift my daughter a life away from …”

  “No!” Urial shouted.

  “Over my dead body,” Teighlar stated. “We wait for Torrullin.”

  “Torrullin? Elixir?” Freman breathed.

  Tianoman’s eyes narrowed. “You have heard of Elixir?”

  “Yes. He is a trueblood like the Dani here, like the Senlu, he who is of two great bloodlines. We are part Danaan and part Danae. He is part Danae and part Lorin. We thus share a genesis.”

  “How is that trueblood? A mixture, not so?” Teighlar frowned, unconsciously massaging his heart. Shared genesis did not sit well with him.

  “Lorin are Golden,” Tianoman murmured, watching the man carefully.

  “The Golden came later,” Freman denied.

  “How do you figure?” Tianoman murmured. “Be certain, sir. This is my grandfather we discuss now. He will read knowledge merely by looking at me … and you.”

  “Elixir is your grandfather?” Freman breathed, and snatched at Tianoman’s hands, to lay his forehead upon them. “Forgive me, young lord!”

  “Jeez,” Lowen muttered, “never can you escape that man’s influence.”

  Alik flicked a glance at her.

  “Explain yourself, Freman,” Teighlar said. “Torrullin himself told us the Golden are also called Lorin.”

  Again, the man glanced at his daughter. She was markedly silent, although her gaze moved from one to the other continuously.

  “If I have my facts in order, Torrullin Valla was born in a stagnant cycle many ages after the birth of the ancient Valleur. He walked the Great Curve until he discovered himself back at the start of the Valleur genesis. His second cycle, and the one he agitated for change.” Freman paused, clearly uncertain of his reception.

  “Continue,” Tianoman murmured. “We are aware of this.”

  Exhaling his relief, the man went on. “Logic dictates there is a period in time Torrullin Valla is wholly ignorant of.”

  “The ages between original Valleur birth and his own,” Lowen understood.

  Freman bowed over his hands. “Indeed. The time of the Lorin.”

  Teighlar snorted a laugh. “That bloody man gets the laurels even in his absence!”

  Lowen spread her hands. “See what I mean? No escape from the oh-so-bright Torrullin Valla.”

  “You do not like Elixir?” Freman frowned.

  “She loves him, father,” Urial murmured.

  Of course it confused the man even further. “Then … never mind.”

  “Torrullin is my truest friend,” Teighlar said.

  “Ah, I understand. It is about the shadow he casts.”

  “Who are you?” Tianoman demanded.

  Finally the man from Balconaru smiled. “I am Freman.”

  Tianoman crossed his arms over his chest and tapped a foot.

  The man’s smile widened. “
Freman Ilk. Lore Master.” He touched his head. “My duty is to remember everything.”

  Silence ensued.

  Then, from Alik, “How old are you?”

  Freman smiled at her. “An insightful question. I am very old.”

  “Not from your Lorin time hopefully,” Lowen muttered.

  The man laughed lightly. “No.”

  Teighlar abruptly moved back to the stone bench. “We have a wait before us, I am afraid. Torrullin is otherwise engaged in this present. These nuances will pass the time. Lucky I am an Enchanter, because I am bloody starving.”

  He snapped his fingers, and fruit, breads and more wine appeared before the bench. He sat, snatching up a bunch of grapes. “That man peeves me,” he muttered as he sucked at a juicy orb.

  “My father?” Urial growled.

  “Torrullin.” Teighlar snorted. “Bloody man.” Irritated, he waved at the food. “Please, help yourselves.”

  The girl needed no second invitation.

  Alik kneeled beside her. “I am sorry about your mother. I lost mine too, very recently.”

  Urial blinked and then nodded.

  “We should bury the dead,” Tianoman said to Teighlar and Freman.

  Lowen shook her head. “Tristan can send the Gravedigger Guild in, Tian.”

  “And how long do we wait here while they focus?” Tianoman frowned.

  “Torrullin will be along sooner than any of you give him credit for. He will need the distraction.” Lowen shrugged and chose a peach from Teighlar’s conjured hoard.

  Freman leaned in and took up an apple. “There is a small park not far from here more conducive to waiting and talking.”

  “Eat first,” Teighlar muttered, swigging back the wine.

  Avaelyn

  TORRULLIN FETCHED THE SPHERE from the cottage on Mariner Island, returning to Avaelyn with it.

  In his brief absence Tristan had ordered Belun to move the Dome back to safety, and Caballa had started a strong coffee brew. Elianas wandered through the dwelling, deep in thought.

  Unwrapping the strange object as he entered the kitchen, Torrullin asked, “Where’s Elianas?”

  “Behind you. Stop checking up on me.” Elianas sauntered in.