The Echolone Mine (3 page)

He leaned
forward.

“We came to
grief over diamonds, when we should’ve learned our lesson on other
worlds.” He leaned back again. “They were alluvial and the river
nearby held those riches, enough for anyone to dip a pan into, but
ownership of the water became a debated topic. The settlers on one
side claimed it belonged to them, while those opposite claimed
likewise. Villages up and down the river were of similar belief. A
new world, and within a year we were at war. Other continents,
towns and regions weighed in and took sides, and the war spread. On
a particularly hellish day the river ran red, and it finally
brought the settlers back to their senses.

“They began to
talk again, and it was decided a bridge of stone would be built
across the river, one that would stand the test of time, and upon
this bridge would be a diamond house. All stones would be brought
there, sorted and valued, and every prospector allocated hereditary
land as payment. The diamonds were for trade with other worlds and
goods would be equally shared between regions. The diamonds
therefore belonged to all and the water was for crops and drink,
not for pollution with human lives.

“There were
problems, such as who would run the facility, and the design of the
bridge almost sparked another war, but it was built. It virtually
crippled us, for manpower was taken from other survival pursuits,
and folk concentrated more on finding the stones to claim land for
perpetuity than on growing food and building homes. An economic
disaster, a political lesson. All said and done, it worked - for
five years.”

Weth paused
and then laughed. “The diamonds dried up.” He cleared his throat
and went on. “The building on the bridge was demolished and the
materials used for other purposes. Some wanted to dismantle the
bridge itself, but that was stupidity. A bridge, after all, is a
safe way across a river. The Bridge of Foolish Dreams - idiots.
That is the known tale, on record in the economic section of any
library. Its erection gets brief mention in the history books.”

“There is
another tale,” Elianas murmured.

“The reason
for the Brothers of the Bridge.” Weth pointed a finger at
Torrullin. “You seek the past of others, those less connected to
the Valleur. I’m sorry to disappoint you, for that is a Valleur
bridge.”

Of course it
was. Torrullin sighed. “How?”

Weth smiled,
looking from one to the other, and then he was markedly intent.

“I told you
the design nearly sparked another war, and it was so. We had
drawings of beam bridges, truss, cantilever, even suspension, and
all were lovely. Most were impractical and meant too much resource.
The beam bridge was sound, but how long would it last? The river
could flood and did. A two hundred foot span is not that great, so
why suspend and cantilever? The practical solution was an arch
bridge with foundations of rock and stone; done properly, no flood
would damage it, and it could also be raised above potential flood
level. Thus it was decided.

“Quarrying for
suitable rock commenced, pink stone the choice. Then we ran into a
snare. Spacefarers had no idea how to tool rock into precise shape.
We were not yet at the point of concrete and steel. Much stone was
destroyed in attempting to learn ancient lessons fast, and the
project almost came to a halt. Folk began looking at discarded
designs again. Then two strangers came - stone masons.

“They
apparently heard of our dilemma and decided to offer their
services. They were feted and feasted, believe me, such was the
relief, but nobody thought to ask exactly where they came from or
why a pilot and a team of engineers would bother to relate the tale
of a simple bridge abroad. They tooled, instructed, laboured and
created, and finally the bridge was finished and it was lovely. The
two stayed on to affect repairs should it be necessary and later
were asked to maintain the bridge.”

Torrullin
leaned forward. “This part of the tale should be transparent
also.”

Weth leaned
closer. “One would think so. Beacon forgot their contribution.”

Elianas said,
“They were made to forget.”

Weth smiled.
“Yes.”

Torrullin
pinched the bridge of his nose. “They stayed to protect the bridge
and their descendants became the Brothers, right down to you.”

Weth leaned
back. “I am part Valleur, yes.”

And that
explained that.

Elianas
muttered, “My god, always with the influence.”

Torrullin
glanced at him. “It is a sacred site. The Lifesource of
Beacon.”

Weth sighed.
“Someone knows at last.” A moment later he smiled. “Someone
knows
at last.”

“And the
curse?” Elianas demanded. “A sacred site cannot function under a
curse.”

“A ploy. One
we had to, um, fatally apply on occasion.”

“Destroy a
sacred site,” Torrullin murmured, “and you destroy much along with
it.”

Weth nodded.
“A few fatalities prevent a greater catastrophe.”

“Give me your
hand.”

“I am not kin,
my Lord. I am of a long line of stone masons - master builders.” A
smile erupted, for it would ever describe the Valleur, in part.
Nevertheless, Weth extended his hand.

There was no
kinfire. The handgrip transformed into ritual arm clasp and then
both men sat back.

Weth steepled
fingers once more and said, “There are others like me out there.
Valleur who separated from their society to protect ancient sacred
sites, or build them where they were missing. I don’t know who they
are or where exactly, yet I feel the pull of a universal net.
Without the net greed could not be contained, evil would flourish
and warmongers would be parking their battleships in every sky.
Evil is, greed is, war is, I know, yet it would be worse were it
not for the sacred sites and their keepers.”

This was
new.

And old.

Elianas paced
thoughtfully and then asked, “Why is it we do not feel it?”

Weth looked up
at him. “’We’?” His amber eyes travelled over Elianas. “You are
Valleur?”

“Yes. Why do
we not feel it?”

Weth glanced
at Torrullin and found there confirmation of Elianas’ claim. “The
nobles looked up and out; we looked down and back. The two ideals
didn’t touch.” He sized Elianas up again. “You must be a
noble.”

Elianas
swore.

Torrullin
interrupted. “Weth, my friend, I am about down and back, and so is
Elianas, and we have not felt it.”

Weth inclined
his head. “I’m aware of your powers, my Lord, but these are worlds
connecting, not people. Unless you seek the net, it isn’t
there.”

“Does the
physical actually exist - I see.”

Weth smiled.
“You do, yes.”

“Who started
this, and when?” Elianas asked.

“We aren’t
meant to reveal it.”

Torrullin
shivered. “Nemisin?”

Weth shook his
head.

“Lord
Sorcerer?” Elianas whispered.

Weth threaded
his hands through his fair hair. He glanced swiftly at Torrullin
and then looked away. “Ah, no.”

“Weth.”

The young man
could not deny the pull. “My Lord?”

“Talk,”
Torrullin commanded.

Elianas came
to sit on the armrest next to Torrullin, and both watched the
younger man.

Weth was in
quandary.

“He is infused
with mental denial to this question,” Elianas said. “Added
protection for this net. Probably why we do not feel it. No source,
no vibrations in the spaces.”

Torrullin
nodded, and was now utterly intrigued. They could not walk away
from this without the complete tale. He reached over to touch
Weth.

The young man
jerked and then slumped. A moment later he began to speak. “You are
the Lord Sorcerer, my Lord Elixir, are you not?”

“I was. That
time has passed.”

Weth nodded.
“But you will know whom I speak of when I say Nemisin’s daughter
Cassiopin instituted the sacred world connection.”

Elianas froze.
Colour drained from him.

Oh … fuck.
“Why?” Torrullin asked.

“She said to
keep the links open wide, to maintain the connections that are
past, present and future, to protect the Valleur heritage through
all time, to mute the greed of the races that come after.”

“Noble of her,
but what was the real reason?” Torrullin ached to lay a hold of the
paralysed man beside him.

“To ensnare
her husband.”

Torrullin put
a hand on Elianas’ thigh, not caring what Weth would think. His
fingers sank in and held on. “Why?” he asked again.

Weth
swallowed. “She had a terrible husband. One of their daughters’ was
fixated in scandal over him and another was destroyed by irrational
anger against her father. Cassiopin herself committed suicide not
long after the net started its growth, and Nemisin protected her
reputation by throwing a screen around the truth, but we know how
it was; it is part of the continuing connection.”

Torrullin
inhaled, breathed out. Everything inside him shivered with dread.
“I thank you for this truth, my friend.” He reached over and
touched the young man without releasing Elianas. “You will now
forget you told me.” He sat back, his expression carefully neutral.
“Weth, my friend is unwell.”

Weth was all
concern. “You are welcome to use the bedrooms …”

“Ah, no, but
thank you. I must take him from the city. I believe it influences
him negatively.” Torrullin forced a smile. “You have been most
helpful and we hope you continue your work here. We shall return
soon.”

Weth nodded
and was clearly confused by the sudden end to sharing.

Torrullin rose
and, without breaking contact with Elianas, helped him stand.

A moment after
they were gone.

Do you ever
escape your past? Can you?

Tattle, in a
philosophical moment

Elsewhere

“B
itch!” Elianas spat out. “Fucking bitch!”

He flung
himself away.

Torrullin
said, “Had you betrayed her with another woman she would have moved
on, but you betrayed her for a man, Elianas. No woman forgives that
easily.” He closed in and took his shoulder roughly, swinging him
around to face him. “Nemisin carries the blame here, not you. He
knew how you felt and still insisted the marriage go ahead. He
didn’t care about his daughter or you, only his power.”

Elianas glared
at him. “I should have refused.”

“You were so
young,” Torrullin murmured.

“But you were
not!”

Torrullin
nodded. “I must take part of the blame, yes.”

Elianas pulled
away. “I hate him, I hate her … and I hate you.”

Torrullin said
nothing.

Elianas pushed
him. “I hate you! Had I never laid eyes on you I would have wed
without burden, watched my daughters grow into women I could be
proud of, and I would never have chosen immortality! Nemisin would
have ignored me and …”

He stopped
there, breathing hard.

Torrullin said
quietly, “Had I never laid eyes on you I would have wed without
burden, watched my sons grow up without the influences of my past,
and I may never have chosen immortality. Nemisin would not have
feared me … and I would now be nothing.”

Elianas bent,
hands on knees. He took in deep breaths. “What does she want of me
now, after all this time?”

“A woman’s
revenge. You have to know what you did to her, for she could not
tell you in life. Yet, Elianas, she did a good deed also. Weth was
right in saying evil, greed and war has been contained. Have we not
wondered why worlds do not annihilate each other with frequency of
battle? Why do most stand together to fight the darak kind
instead?”

Elianas
nodded, still bent over.

“Of course,
this means the past is no longer adrift,” Torrullin added. “The
future, however, seems darker than ever.”

“Bitch,”
Elianas muttered.

“She was a
good person.”

Elianas
straightened. “I fucking know that!”

Torrullin
reached out …

… Elianas
flinched away. “Don’t touch me.”

Torrullin did
not move again.

Elianas did.
He stood close and stared and then moved his gaze over the face
before him. “God help me,
now
I desire you.”

He flung away
and, giving the finger over his shoulder, continued walking.

Ymir

Torrullin
tracked Elianas to Ymir and knew exactly what the man came to
do.

He climbed a
set of stairs in a dank stairwell and kicked a scarred door open.
The fair-haired man Elianas had bent over a couch squawked, but
Elianas simply looked up, dark eyes unreadable. He had not yet
undone his breeches.

The aroma of
cat piss filled the air, almost but not quite masking the scent of
spent semen.

Torrullin
strode across, flung the naked man aside and gripped Elianas by his
hair. “Do not be stupid. God knows what you will pick up here.”

Twisting his
hand further in, he walked towards the gaping door, pulling Elianas
along without a care for how he hurt him.

Elianas,
wordless, went along.

The naked man
screamed obscenity.

Outside in the
dark quiet of the city Torrullin slapped Elianas. “What are you
thinking? This isn’t you.”

Elianas stared
at him and then swung about on his heels and walked.

Torrullin
caught up and said no more.

On the
outskirts of the city, before the high walls, Elianas halted. “I
suggest you get Lowen to do this with us.”

“Why?”
Torrullin snapped. His gut wrenched. Lowen could do that to him,
anywhere, even absent.

“So she stands
between us.”

“No.”

“Yes. Either
you get her or I will do it … or I
am
going to force you
over the line.”