The Echolone Mine (32 page)

“Then I shall
fill in the blanks,” Tristan said.

“Why?” Erin
frowned.

“Because
Torrullin needs our help, as does Declan.” Tristan glanced at Lowen
again. “And Saska.”

She sucked at
her teeth, saying nothing.

They waited on
him, practised in waiting, knowing questions at inception could
delay a telling.

Tristan
shifted to a more comfortable position. “I will not bother you with
how we entered into the realm of Time, or how we left. I need you
to understand what happened in there, for those results we now
grapple with. First result, Torrullin is an Ancient …”

Fuma smiled.
“We guessed that already.”

“Good, then
you are not surprised. Torrullin took us back to Nemisin’s time,
seeking to redress the crime of Orb. When we got there we realised
we had altered that ancient time. Nemisin was not the bloodthirsty
monster we envisioned and he had not built the mountain enclave. He
hadn’t even conceived of the Throne. We understood, if he did not
do so, our entire future would cease. No Dome, no other races, no
Valleur future, nothing would be as we know it.”

“Bugger,” Erin
muttered.

“We had to
force Nemisin into achieving these things, including the massacre
of the Diluvans. Orb had to be attacked for Grinwallin to be, for
the Luvans to evolve, for the Senlu, and for the Valleur of this
time.”

Erin said,
“Impossible. Huge achievements. You would still be there.”

Tristan
nodded. “Correct. There was another way, and we used it. We
employed the void Grinwallin protects. In that Void lay all
futures, all pasts, all worlds and spaces, and we could restore the
status quo by sacrificing ourselves to it.”

“A mighty
risk,” Fuma frowned.

“It worked,”
Tristan said. “Teighlar no longer desires redress, Grinwallin isn’t
a threat, the Valleur have their long history, ancient enemies are
now allies and the rest of us go on as before.”

“But?” Belun
prompted.

“There were
side effects.”

Quilla sighed.
“I wish I had known of them before.”

“I am certain
Torrullin feels the same,” Tristan agreed. “Before the Time realm
we knew a universe on the scales, seesawing between balance and
unbalance, and we functioned in it without thought for what would
happen if the scales stopped moving.”

“A good
analogy,” Quilla murmured.

“The scales
have stopped,” Tristan said. “The Void restored us a present we are
familiar with, but it also gifted us perfect balance. This will
lead ultimately to stasis or anarchy, and appears to be heading
towards stasis.”

“Apathy is a
step into stasis,” Belun said. “I see. We cease growing,
experimenting, inventing, learning and fall into apathy and from
there into the death stasis brings to everything. We will accept
it, because that is the perception of balance in this present.”

“Exactly.
Balance itself is good, but lack of movement is not. We require
unbalance to restore that movement. My friends, that is where
Torrullin is right now. In unbalance. He seeks to reunite the
two.”

“The door on
Echolone,” Fuma murmured. “Declan mentioned something about balance
and unbalance.”

“Yes, and
Declan entered with Torrullin.”

“Trust Elixir
to do such a thing,” Erin muttered. “I assume he has run into a
snag?”

Lowen spoke.
“May I, Tristan?”

“Go
ahead.”

“After the
Void those of us who had visions in the past were sightless. This
was the first indication something went wrong. Then Quilla spoke to
Torrullin about the door on Echolone and the important fact that
those who didn’t have visions in the past suddenly did. The clear
opposite took us to Echolone. You, Erin, had a vision there, while
I no longer saw anything. Torrullin saw only darkness, as if the
future had ceased to exist. The actual deciphering of the Avior
glyphs led us to conclusions about balance and unbalance.
Torrullin, Elianas, Saska and Declan entered and visions were
restored to us. This is a small return to unbalance, a gift in
sacrifice, as the Void demanded, but it will not last long.”

“How does
Torrullin need us?” Fuma asked.

“Caballa and I
see what is beyond the door,” Lowen said. “We think they are
trapped.”

“Torrullin
can’t be trapped,” Belun said. “He can figure anything out. By god,
he will shatter the realm if necessary.”

“He has no
power, Belun,” Tristan said.

Belun stared.
“Impossible.”

Tristan shook
his head. “I have conferred with the Syllvan. It is possible and,
further, they have changed state. They are no longer matter; they
are energy. And they are within the Path of Shades.”

“Did you ask
about Elianas’ power?” Quilla asked.

Tristan
nodded. “And stumped them.”

Quilla
sighed.

Belun rose.
“Who is this Elianas?”

Tristan hung
his head.

“He was on the
journey through Time?” Fuma questioned.

Tristan
straightened. “Torrullin will probably have my head for discussing
him. Hell, even the Valleur Elders don’t know of him yet.”

“I think you
had better tell us,” Erin said.

“Elianas is an
Ancient. In fact, he was Torrullin’s apprentice during the time of
Nemisin. He is a dark Valleur, a master sorcerer, an enchanter and
more, like Torrullin. They are brothers, bound by power, family
connections and a history so long we cannot begin to imagine it.
Simply, Torrullin forgot his Ancient status, and Elianas went into
hiding, in the Valleur Throne.

“I assume the
Throne was a way to bring them together in a time they were both
needed. We could argue we tweaked with Time and thus influenced the
Void and its outcome, which led to the Path of Shades and the
current predicament. Elianas has retained, apparently, a form of
power that might influence energy, and yet it may take too long to
help Declan and Saska.

“I want to
help my grandfather from this mess not because I think he cannot
help himself, but because I do not want to see the man who emerges
after his friend Declan has succumbed. I particularly do not want
to meet the man who loses his wife in there.”

Lowen rubbed
at her brow and inhaled a mighty breath.

Erin sighed.
“How can we help, Tristan?”

Quilla
murmured, “I do not think we can.”

Tristan said,
“I refuse to believe that.”

“What did the
Syllvan say about using a Tracloc?” Quilla asked.

“It isn’t a
good idea.”

“Did you speak
to Tymall?”

“I was warned
not to tell him,” Tristan replied.

“Ah, the
threat of Digilan,” Quilla murmured. “Tymall will move worlds to
help his father.”

“But not
Saska,” Lowen said.

Erin’s head
moved from one to the other. “You have been aware of this situation
for some time. The Kaval, it seems, is last resort.”

Tristan
murmured, “Not intentionally.”

“Torrullin
will hate that we discuss this,” Lowen murmured. “That is why. He
will hate particularly that we have spoken of Elianas.”

“Is Elianas
that important?” Erin frowned.

Tristan
scratched an eyebrow, Lowen looked away and Quilla sighed.

“Ah, say no
more,” Belun said.

Fuma leaned
onto the slab, frowning at Tristan. “What is it you think we can do
to help?”

“We need to
know how the Path of Shades operates.”

“Only a
familiar can tell you,” Fuma said.

Tristan’s eyes
lifted to Lowen. “Torrullin said you know the Path.”

“I don’t know about
know
, but I have experienced
it.”

Erin craned
past Fuma. “Really?”

“Reincarnation. But,
but
. I didn’t reincarnate the way
Torrullin did, not via birth. I merely flitted in and out enough
times to claim a seven times born state, which has the drawback of
bringing on the Path. I suspect Elianas did as I did, flitted in
and out, but we had to do it more than seven times to claim true
immortality. Elianas, of course, wouldn’t regard the Path of Shades
as a drawback …”

“Enough,
Lowen,” Tristan snapped. “We are not here to dissect him.”

She inclined
her head. “Someone should dissect him.”

“Lowen. The
Path.”

“Fine. What
can I tell you? That it is as its name suggests? It is, but
multiply what your imagination conjures a hundred fold. That you
need duality to negotiate the ways? Indeed you do, or it will take
your life or, in Torrullin’s case, whatever sanity he has left
…”

“Lowen!”

“Sorry, but it
peeves me he did something this stupid.”

“You were
prepared to go in with him,” Tristan pointed out.

Quilla said,
“This is not helping.”

Lowen took a
breath. “The Path as I know it tells us nothing. I haven’t walked,
merely seen it.”

“Is it an
actual place?” Fuma questioned. “I always thought it was a
description of the soul’s dilemma.”

“Well, it is,”
Lowen said. “Apparently, it’s a real part of Reaume also, which I
was unaware of. Torrullin, blast him, probably knew.”

“Can you
access the Path?” Tristan asked.

She licked dry
lips. “I wouldn’t dare.”

“Can it be
done?” he insisted.

“Of course it
can be done, but, Tristan, firstly, I have no experience, and,
second, they are not inside, they are within. Not even a Tracloc
can do so. Damn it, you know I would do this if I had the
knowledge.”

“Inside,
within?” Belun frowned.

Tristan
explained the concept as Caballa explained it to him, using the
straw and the ant.

“Good god,
man,” the Centuar blurted at the end of it, “we must get them out
of there.”

Tristan spread
his hands.

Belun set to a
furious pacing. He snapped to Erin. “What of doorways?”

“This wouldn’t
be a doorway. It would be a flaw, and finding a flaw, whether from
within or without? It’s almost impossible, more accident than
deliberate.”

Belun pointed
an accusing finger. “You said ‘almost’.”

She was
thoughtful and glanced at Tristan. “Amunti’s mother Amdel is
conversant in shifts, flaws and the like. When we were
investigating a way in to find Lowen, she told me one couldn’t find
a doorway, it presents itself when you are ready for it. Look and
ye shall find.”

“They are
looking, Erin,” Tristan murmured.

“Yes, damn it,
you must have something better than that,” Belun said.

Erin ignored
the Centuar. “The way out will be there when they are ready, but
perhaps they do not determine readiness, Tristan. We are discussing
the Path of Shades here and I doubt the rules are the same.
Further, if it’s true unbalance, then every law we govern ourselves
by has no sway there. Even if we did enter and even if there was a
doorway, we can’t open it. We would be working from balance. Where
is the bridge?”

Tristan rubbed
at his cheeks and then swung into motion. “This was a waste of
time.”

“I told you we
had to wait,” Quilla murmured.

Lowen hurtled
up. “Well, I agree with Tristan! We must be able to do something.
They have no power, food, no way out …”

“There is,”
Fuma said.

Belun paced
nearer and with him, Tristan.

Fuma stood.
“You say they are energy, not matter?”

Tristan
nodded.

“Then there is
something we could do.”

Quilla, tiny
birdman, hopped onto the slab to see the Deorc properly. “How?”

“Erin
mentioned bridge,” Fuma murmured, “and it put me in mind of how
energy can be joined. A bridge between two flows, right?” He paused
to look at Tristan again. “This Elianas can influence energy?”

“We think so.
Nothing is certain.”

“I think he
might be Alhazen.”

Quilla sighed.
“I understand.”

“I don’t,”
Tristan snapped. “Explain.”

Fuma said,
“The legend of Alhazen is old, and tells of a man who is more than
matter, one who controls flows of energy. They say he breathes to
create new space.” He paused, and then, “He uses as fuel the senses
of touch, sight, smell, taste … Elixir’s abilities.”

Tristan stared
at him. Everyone else was silent.

Fuma drew
breath. “In the Path he will build bridges and every span will join
two flows, forming connections and, eventually, direction. I see
now how they would escape, but it would take too much time for
those who would succumb to the pressures. Energy compresses and
expands and, to flow with it, one would need fuel, which you say
they do not have … or Elixir does not.”

Quilla
murmured, “His internal fuel cannot disappear.”

“Ah.” Fuma
frowned. “I need Jonas in here.”

Tristan
glanced at Belun, who stalked to the console to send the call. “Why
Jonas?”

“The man is a
boffin with hidden information,” Fuma murmured. “I want him to
ferret through that machine of his to find the fastest and most
effective way of creating an energy field to pull all flows to
it.”

“Gods, Fuma,
that will pull everything, not only the thing within the Path!”
Erin gasped.

He looked at
her. “They need a second to have direction clearly
established.”

“It’s too
risky!”

“Do it,”
Tristan commanded, and paced to the console.

Lowen and
Quilla looked at each other and both headed to the computers.

“Fuma, it’s
dangerous,” Erin muttered.

“My dear, I
prefer danger to a slow death by apathy, and I certainly would
rather face this than the wrath of Elixir after he has lost his
wife.”

Erin was
silent and then jerked her head in agreement and joined Lowen and
Quilla. When Jonas sauntered in, a smile on his face, Fuma took him
and marched him directly to the machines also and set him to
ferreting with a barely decent explanation.