The Echolone Mine (26 page)

“You are
thinking, Torrullin. Speak with your gut.”

“My gut tells
me to stay away from him.”

Elianas
grunted, half amused, half angry.

“And you?”
Saska prompted.

Declan busied
himself with the fire, listening intently.

“My gut has
led me astray, Saska. I do not trust it.” For once there was no
underlying taunt. Elianas said, “My gut told me to study magic. It
took me to my father, who took me to Nemisin, who had me taken to
you, Torrullin. My immediate instinct was to stay with you, no
matter what happened. I always followed the inner prompt and look
where it got me, look what it did. Now my gut tells me to stay away
from you. I aim not to listen.”

Torrullin
grinned. “I am ignoring mine also.”

“Why?” Saska
burst out.

“Prophecy,”
Elianas said immediately.

“Fate,”
Torrullin said simultaneously.

“Who wrote
it?” Declan asked.

“We did, the
day I achieved immortality,” Elianas murmured. “We swore to remain
together until the end.”

Declan rose and stretched and flexed his wings nubs. His
wings had not returned after the long dunking; he had not mentioned
it once. “The glyphs said
Lords of all,
bring forth the shadows
. Both of you,
dragon and sword, so put sleeping together aside. Embracing rather
than fighting does not figure. You are delving too many opposites,
and that isn’t unbalance. You create balance by attempting to think
in every opposite.”

“You have a
point.” Elianas sounded surprised.

“I choose to
follow instinct,” Declan said. “I agree we could now be in the Path
of Shades, the area where unbalance rules. There may be a veil
between this and balance, and we must find it.”

“The Path of
Shades does not look and act like this. We have walked there, and
this is not it. There is no balance or unbalance on the Path, no
light, no dark, no everything, no nothing,” Torrullin said.

“Gods,
you
said we may be within the Path of Shades.”

Torrullin
nodded. “Yes, within, not into, not inside.”

Elianas
laughed. “Try and explain that!”

“Yes, try,”
Declan snapped.

Torrullin
thought a moment and then stood. He found a long twig and drew two
parallel lines in the sand, about a foot apart. He jabbed at the
centre space between the lines.

“That is inside. It is the middle of a path, the part away
from the edges.” He jabbed again, more arbitrarily. The point of
the twig landed slightly to the left of his centre mark. “That is
into. A random point.” He gestured at the centre mark.
“
Inside
suggests
specific choice. In other words, you walk where you feel
safe.
Into
suggests a specific arrival site, a choice to begin a
journey.” He looked up. “We did not choose a site on the Path - the
door was a devised means - and we certainly did not choose to walk
where it is safe. Had any of that happened, we would know the Path
as the shades and shadows you imagine. We would also be able to
leave right now.”

Declan
inclined his head. “I begin to understand. Your mind is filled with
nuance, Elixir.”

“And
nonsense,” Elianas muttered.

Saska pointed
at the lines. “Explain the within part.”

Torrullin
sketched an arc through the air from one line to the other.
“Imagine this path in three dimensions.” He then sketched the same
arc over Saska. “The space we walk in. The laws of physics state
different matter cannot occupy the same space at the same time. We
displace air when we walk along a path.”

“This is not
physics,” Declan frowned.

“No,” Torrullin agreed, “for we walk in the
displacement
. We are
within. We are inside the inner, where inside and into have no
bearing.”

Declan covered
his mouth, squeezing his cheeks. “Gods.”

Elianas
grinned. “Not bad, Torrullin.”

Saska shook
her head. “We’re not displacing. The displacing already exists and
we are within it.”

“Energy, not
matter,” Torrullin murmured.

Elianas
twitched.

“Energy.”
Saska snapped her fingers. “Potential, kinetic, chemical, light,
and so forth. It flows and changes and halts and is.” She paused.
“How does one become matter again?”

Elianas closed
his eyes.

Torrullin
murmured, “That is the answer we seek. Somewhere beyond this state
of energy is the true Path of Shades, all around us. Find the
answer, and we are on the Path. We exit and thus reconnect balance
to unbalance, and save this age.” A sardonic half-smile accompanied
the latter.

Elianas said,
“We are energy, is that what you are saying?”

Something in
his tone caught their attention, most particularly Torrullin’s.
“Elianas?”

The dark man
stared at the lines in the sand. “Imagine something and it is
created. Set it between light and dark and it achieves alchemical
perfection. It is the fuel energy requires.”

Elianas looked
up and found Torrullin’s gaze on him.

“I believe it
is time I tell you of the power matching that of Elixir.”

Chapter 21

Shadowland.
Path of Shadows. The Shadow Road. The Shades. Shadow and Shade. The
Path of Shades. Many names for the space between.

Universal
Oracle

Valaris

Month of
Istelgor

Menllik

I
n the last two days the wind veered
between warm and icy.

Spring was
around the corner, it said, but the cold was not done. A slight
thaw was swiftly followed by renewed ice. Tristan, pacing the
patio, wished fervently for warm weather. His pacing, though, had
as much to do with keeping warm, as it had to do with forcing his
thoughts into coherence.

His main
dilemma at present was whether to inform Teroux and Tianoman of the
situation.

He tracked
Caballa to this cottage under renovation, recognised it was for the
two of them, but the appreciation, the sharing, was overlooked, and
would be unspoken for the foreseeable future. He discovered Caballa
and Lowen locked in trance as he arrived … gods.

Tristan halted
and stared over the snow-covered landscape.

The women saw
the four beyond the door, in total darkness, then drowning in pea
soup and thereafter stranded on an island. That was not the worst
of it. Apparently all four were without their powers. Would they
get out?

Lowen left
yesterday upon his command, ordered to return to the Dome to inform
the Kaval of developments, but Caballa was inside entering and
exiting trance with too few periods of rest between. She searched
for fresh glimpses, perhaps an answer, an answer, as he tried to
tell her, they had no way of relaying back to the four.

Tristan swore
soundlessly, feeling helpless. This morning he went to Echolone to
collect Caballa’s trove of rugs, and lingered to speak with
Allith’s father. Anethor revealed they, too, had a return of
visitations from the spirit world, but could not add clarity to a
cloudy situation. He thus returned with rugs and no new
insight.

“Tristan?”

Her voice
sounded thin and stretched, and he quickly entered the cottage. She
was in the small and empty room she set aside as a study, sitting
cross-legged on a threadbare carpet.

She was pale,
hair hanging limply, and his heart constricted. “Caballa, please,
enough,” he murmured as he sat beside her.

She found his
eyes slowly. “I know my limits and, yes, I have reached them. I
need to sleep.”

Relieved, he
was on his feet again. He bent and lifted her into his arms and
carried her through to the bedroom, and laid her on the huge bed
she discovered in Galilan. The bedroom was beautifully done in warm
tones and romantic lanterns. and on the bed itself was pure comfort
and luxury. Downy-soft quilts in rich burgundies and coffee-creams,
with fluffed pillows to lay a head forever upon.

“I can
manage,” she smiled at him.

“I know, but I
want to do this.” He proceeded to undress her with gentle hands and
then rolled her into the soft luxury.

“That’s
all?”

He sat and
took her hand. “My head is in a whirl and you need to rest
now.”

“You won’t
go?”

“I will be
here, promise.”

She sighed and
then, “You fetched the rugs?”

“Yes. Quite
the collection.”

“Liar. You
haven’t looked at them. Fetch the wine-red one. It has brown and
gold edges.”

“Now?”

“I want to see
what it looks like … chose it for this room …” Her eyes closed and
she forced them open. “Please.”

He understood
it was normality she was after, not aesthetics, and went to sort
through the rolled stack near the front door. Muttering, he sorted
through all before he found it at the bottom. Of course, at the
bottom. Hefting it, he returned to the bedroom. Caballa was fast
asleep.

He smiled and
laid it out on the dark floor, and had to admit she chose well. It
completed the room.

“Go see Tian,”
she murmured sleepily. “It looks good, doesn’t it?”

“I thought you
were asleep.” He crossed to the bed.

“Almost.”

“It looks
fantastic,” he said, leaning in to kiss her.

Her eyes
closed and he retreated.

The Keep

Tianoman was
in the same place Torrullin was usually found in the past - his
study.

He looked up
and smiled. “I heard you were in Menllik. Took you long enough to
show your face. I was going to drop by, but, well, Vallorins don’t
do that.”

Tristan
laughed and flung into a chair. He gestured at the untidy,
paper-strewn desk. “And this?”

“Trade deals,
letters of recommendation for new ambassadors, requests for
political alliances, boring shit, yet it must be done.” Tianoman
pulled a face. Then, “Is Caballa ill?”

“Visions,”
Tristan replied. “That’s why I’m here.”

“Ah. Fancy a
walk on the battlements?”

Tristan
rose.

Tianoman
paused over that revealing motion. “It is bad, right?”

“It’s
bad.”

Tianoman
pushed himself up, stretched and joined his cousin. They climbed up
to the battlements without talking.

Once up there
Tristan took a few long strides back and forth. “Been cooped up,”
he explained.

“And I
unfortunately do not have much time,” Tianoman murmured. “I have a
Beacon delegation arriving in half hour.”

“To discuss
Echolone?”

Tianoman’s
eyes narrowed. “How do you know?”

“The Kaval
pledged Echolone support. Don’t let them steamroll you. They want
mining rights, have promised patient, low impact delving, and we
will ensure they keep their word.”

Tianoman
licked his lips and then, “You are not here to discuss
Echolone.”

“Actually I
am, but not mining in particular.” He sat on the low parapet and
explained, finishing with Caballa’s current state of
exhaustion.

Tianoman had
listened in silence, and remained silent.

“Tian?”
Tristan shivered in the cold air.

“Does Teroux
know?”

Tristan shook
his head.

“Don’t tell
him yet. He remains vulnerable.”

As Vallorin,
Tianoman had the right to demand that, but as cousin Tristan
understood what he meant. “Agreed.”

Tianoman drew
breath, released it and leaned on his arms upon the low wall.
“Hell, how does he get himself into these fixes?”

Tristan stared
at him and then snorted amusement.

His cousin
gave a lopsided grin.

There was a
commotion in the courtyard. “Your delegation has arrived.”

Tianoman
shrugged. “They are early; let them wait.” He sat beside his
cousin. “There’s not much we can do.”

Tristan
grimaced. “I am thinking there is. Digilan. I look like Torrullin.
I could ask the Syllvan to open a portal for me …”

“Why, Tris?
Digilan is no joke.”

“Tracloc.”

Tianoman
blinked and was thoughtful. “If a Tracloc could get in - and if
anybody could, it’s one of them - he could lead them out. But,
Tris, ask the Syllvan? How do you even contact them?”

“I was in the
grotto. I could retrace the way out to get back in.”

“Would they do
this?”

“If they think
I am Torrullin.”

Tianoman
stared at him. “You look like him to within a hair, but you are not
Elixir. They will know.”

“It’s worth a
try.”

“Yes, it is, but let me think on this more. Maybe I can help,
maybe they will open a portal for the Warlock’s son or maybe my
presence will distract them into thinking you are Torrullin, and
maybe, Tris, you should speak to Maple first. He is Tracloc and he
is in
this
universe.”

“I spoke to
him yesterday,” Tristan admitted. “He says without Digilan’s
influence over him, he hasn’t the same tracking skills, or not for
realms. He also says I must be mad to consider going into
Digilan.”

“He is
right.”

“Torrullin
would come after us, Tian.”

“I know. Let
me think about it.”

“Fine. I
promised Caballa I would be there when she wakes. Go talk to your
delegation and we’ll meet up tomorrow - say, lunch?”

“Your place,”
Tianoman agreed.

Menllik

Swinging
together on the hanging seat later, Caballa under Tristan’s arm,
they discussed what she had seen.

It was late
afternoon, and cold. The sun hid behind dark clouds.

“There was no
light beyond the door and I don’t know how they got out, but they
did. The next sight was of them enveloped in green denseness. Saska
couldn’t cope and Declan nearly drowned. Torrullin and Elianas had
to breathe for them.”