The Echolone Mine (57 page)

Quilla created
puffed cheeks and then deflated them. “This is beyond my
experience.”

It was as if
he had not spoken, for Elianas had, indeed, focused anew, and
Torrullin’s gaze sharpened.

“How do you
explain Kalgaia over a so-called dream?”

Torrullin
reached over, gripped that sensitive hand and squeezed it. “Step
from those shadows, Elianas, and assume responsibility.”

Quilla,
sensing confrontation, moved out of the way.

“Are you
saying I did it?” Elianas demanded.

“I did not
understand until Cassy told me you killed a man before you wed,”
Torrullin said in a low voice. “Back then I thought you went
insane. I did not understand, because you could not kill me, you
killed another, then another, and then, Elianas, more! Every
attractive man.”

Elianas tore
his hand away, swearing at the pain. “You lie.”

Torrullin’s
chair crashed back and he rounded the table. He took the man by the
neck.

“I lied to
you, to protect you. Whatever happened between us, you were still
my brother, a man I loved as a man loves a brother, and I have been
protecting you from this ever since. Do you not wonder why my wings
are so fucking massive? They are there and they are huge, because I
have lied to you for many thousands of years,
and
I killed
the witnesses to your crimes. Should I have let you hang, or better
yet, take that knife to yourself?” Torrullin released him. “I did
worse than you, to assume the blame. I made a mess of
everything.”

Elianas was
shaken, ashen and wordless.

Torrullin
swung back. “Funny thing is, the more I did to protect you, the
more I came to feel for you what you felt for me and that was when
this sick dance started.”

Quilla moved
into a corner of the kitchen, understanding why they wanted no one
to hear this. His tiny hands were pressed tight to his cheeks, eyes
going from one to the other, at a loss how to end it and how to fix
it. He already knew it could not be repaired, and by no means they
could return the gloss of lies to hide it again. Yet he hoped he
could help, somehow.

“Everything I
am is a lie,” Elianas said.

Torrullin
paced forward. “Do you remember?”

“Yes, I
remember.”

“Then tell me
why, Elianas. We are now stripped bare of civilisation, so tell me
the truth. Why?”

“Men do not
sleep with men. My father told me that, Nemisin told me that and
Cassy told me that. Do you recall what happened to Klemin? Nemisin
had him tortured for sleeping with a man. It was not done, and yet
I was attracted to you … gods, I hated myself.”

“I was taught
the same lessons.”

“You were
stronger.”

“No, you saw
yourself through the eyes of a prudish society. I was born in an
era when it was acceptable.”

“Not to the
Valleur.”

“No, but we
are sorcerers and the line appears between men to prevent transfer
of power. We were taught the lessons to avoid it. Elianas, truth, I
did not know either, not until that night.”

“Lord Sorcerer
did not know?” Elianas sneered.

“Lord Sorcerer
had never been in that position before.”

“Saska told me
I must know myself to understand your goal, the fact that you love
me. Whom do you love, Torrullin? The Elianas that was or the
twisted soul I am now after ages of lies?”

“The Torrullin
that was loved the Elianas that was. I love the one that is.”

“More esoteric
bullshit.”

“Then do not
ask a stupid question. Who the fuck cares who loved who when and
why? This is now and lies are laid bare. Gods, what the hell do you
want, a bloody resume of how love works beyond betrayal, lying,
murder and cover-up? It probably isn’t love anymore, but who cares?
I am sick of explaining, of reasoning everything into a tight
little niche where everything could maybe, just maybe, stay put
after a cursory examination, for that way it can be overlooked.
Damn it, truth? I hate that you put me in a position where I chose
a completely different future. I hate that I annihilated a city and
a people over your fucking disgust. I hate you, is that clear
enough?”

Elianas gave
an enlightened, sarcastic smile. “Ah, the real Torrullin.”

“Fuck
you.”

“Relax, this
is tit for tat, my brother. I hate that you came into my life with
your lovely, enchanting tricks to take over a gullible mind, and I
hate that you taught me well. I hate that I was used against you,
and you were set against me. I hate that you are exactly the man I
wanted to be, but cannot hope to … let me finish! I did not set out
to betray you, and yet once started wanted to finish it, thereby
laying attraction to rest. Kill something beautiful, right, and
then beauty cannot accuse you again? You foiled me, and I hate you
because of it.”

“Excellent. We
hate each other. Maybe now compromising situations go flying into
the ether. A relief.”

Elianas’ eyes
hooded. “Except for one thing.”

“Lethe?”

“Besides
that.”

“Please
enlighten me.”

“Your ultimate
goal.”

Torrullin
snorted. “What would you know about it? You are only beginning to
see straight now.”

Elianas moved
forward, then past him and behind the counter, where he fished out
the brandy bottle. He poured two liberal measures into the two
closest mugs, and pushed one in Torrullin’s direction. He knocked
his back in one gulp, and then drew deep breaths. He poured again;
Torrullin ignored his. Elianas slammed the bottle down.

“I did not
remember we were awake that night, but whether asleep or otherwise,
the impact, I believe, was the same. I still fell into an abyss,
and you still came to my rescue. Lies? Yes, but let us be honest.
Would it have played out differently? No, for the real lying began
after Kalgaia and, Torrullin, it did not bother us. You could have
thrown the truth at me any time and I could have seen through
subterfuge, that is the real truth. Becoming Enchanter was
deliberate choice, choosing immortality was conscious decision, and
perpetuating past transgressions suited us.

“The Path of
Shades was not shied from and neither was the long-winded method of
hiding until we could reunite in a time we understood would be new.
We are exactly what we chose to be, and what we were before was
simply the beginning of a long journey to where we are now. This
includes the dance, the attraction, the goddamn line, and shadow
wings, my brother.

“These are not
niches allowing tight fits, and nothing is overlooked. Do we hate
each other? Yes, but not enough to overshadow the rest of it. You
said on Luvanor we are either moving in opposite directions, or we
walk so close we think we are opposite. Which is it?”

“Close,”
Torrullin admitted. He reached for the mug, sipped.

“And we come
to your ultimate goal. You and me, Heart’s Desire, across the
line.” Elianas lifted his mug in a mocking toast. “I am not blind,
Torrullin. I know well it goes beyond power.”

“And your
goal?”

“Mine was to
complete betrayal, to dominate, to take your power from you, to
leave you alone and powerless on one side of the line, while I go
forth from the other side.”

“Liar,”
Torrullin said.

Elianas
shrugged. “I said ‘was’.”

“And now?”

Elianas stared
at the counter for a long time before lifting his head.

“I kneeled in
the trampled grass where many ill stood in hope, returned from the
dead, so to speak, and you called me Heart’s Desire without giving
thought to lines and power. Your goal is to cross the line and
retain what we have; mine is to avoid it at all costs, because I,
too, desire to retain what we have. Lies aside, and everything
else, I am afraid I would succumb and I am also afraid I would win.
Neither option sits well.”

“Why not?”

“I would be
bereft. Eternity alone is loneliness.”

“Eternity is a
long time, yes.”

“And now there
is Lethe, and the line must be crossed to enter. Despite
everything, we are at the point where we change our futures
again.”

“Earlier we
did not care.”

“Earlier there
were lies.”

“Earlier there
was attraction.”

“There still
is.”

Torrullin
closed in to stand opposite him, the counter between them. “Heal
that hand; it’s irritating me.”

With a frown
it was done.

“You are
right. We made our choices back then. Love, hate, it doesn’t
matter. I lied to you and about you; did I protect you or myself?
Whatever it was then, I chose the path deliberately, as you did.
The fact that you now know your guilt certainly doesn’t mitigate
mine. We proved recently going back to change the past is a bad
idea, but even if we could and it worked, it doesn’t change the
echoes in sacred space. Yet here, right now, we have a rare
opportunity to deliberately alter the path.” Torrullin leaned on
the counter. “Elianas, you see my goal wrong, you see me as someone
you cannot be. My god, do you think a version of myself is
attractive to me?”

Elianas’
eyelids flickered. “Am I not a version of you?”

“No!” He
slapped the counter. “You are unique. In many things we are alike,
but it is the nature of sentience, the common bonds to hold
different souls up for recognition, but I am amazed by the rest of
you. It is in difference we celebrate our real bonds. How you view
your world is not how I view mine, and yet, here, we may use that
difference to choose, for once together, to go on in a way not
foreseen the night we fell asleep on a ledge.”

Quilla,
forgotten, held his breath, eyes shining. Yes. This was Torrullin,
the One. This was nobility and it could rise above everything.

Elianas’ hand
shook as he raised his mug to his lips. “You are nobler than
I.”

Quilla’s heart
sank.

Torrullin’s
eyes narrowed. “There are still lies between us. I would we speak
of them now.”

Elianas’ mug
slammed down and he swiped it away. “Give me your hand.” He held
his out.

Torrullin did
so, watching him warily.

Elianas turned
that hand palm up. He traced a finger over the palm lines.

“No kinfire. I
wanted there to be kinfire, Torrullin. I wanted to be your brother
of the blood and despised myself for wanting something
unattainable. I thought if we were true brothers, I could cease
thinking the thoughts I fought daily. They were disgusting … and
now are familiar old friends.”

He closed
Torrullin’s fingers into a fist, wrapped both his hands around it
and held the connection suspended in the air between them. He
stared into Torrullin’s eyes.

“I see your
goal. If we cross the line, our blood mingles. On the other side of
it, if it works the way you intend, I shall be a brother of the
blood, and when we do this again …” He shook the connection. “…
there will be kinfire. You call me your brother, but only you have
known how much you really mean it.”

Quilla drew a
shaking breath.

Elianas went
on. “This is why you fought attraction, me, yourself, and every
other. Your Heart’s Desire is Elianas Bloodbrother.” He lowered the
connection and then let go. “Am I right?”

“Yes,”
Torrullin said. He was elated Elianas understood.

“There is much
in the way of that goal. To get to that point, Torrullin, we will
have to be anything but brothers.”

“Our great
dilemma.”

“No, your
dilemma. I no longer hark to kinfire.”

Quilla pressed
his hands to his cheeks again.

Torrullin
stared at the dark man. “Will you trust me with your hand?”

Elianas drew a
breath, but nodded.

Torrullin
supported it with one hand. With the other he drew a line from
wrist to fingers and then from thumb to pinkie. Elianas’ skin split
open and blood welled up. He then placed that wounded hand on the
counter, briefly checking Elianas would not withdraw, and did the
same to his hand. When blood came, he pressed down. He led their
hands like that, waiting until their combined blood began to seep
onto the counter.

Elianas grit
his teeth … in denial. Torrullin looked at him, and pressed
harder.

Kinfire flared
bright and blue.

Torrullin’s
blood had entered Elianas’ cells.

Elianas
stared, fascinated.

“Tell me again
you no longer want this,” Torrullin murmured.

Distress was
stark in dark eyes, and then the shutters came down. He gave a lazy
smile, reached over with his free hand to clasp Torrullin’s neck
and leaned over to claim those lips briefly, and then, “Tell me you
do not want more of that.” He retreated. “Lift your hand.”

Torrullin,
expressionless, did so. Kinfire extinguished. He healed his
hand.

Only Quilla
saw naked pain cross Elianas’ noble features, and then it was gone,
and Elianas healed himself.

Silence
descended on the kitchen.

Torrullin’s
loud finger snap was like a thunderbolt.

Both Quilla
and Elianas flinched.

The blue
lockbox appeared on the table and Torrullin unlocked it and then
gazed into the corner where Quilla was.

“Read it,
Quilla. Then you will understand why tonight brought revelation.
Elianas, stay away from me, understood?” He did not look at
him.

A sarcastic
laugh. “Oh, understood.”

Torrullin
left.

Quilla
approached the box. “Elianas, is it so bad to accept a blood
connection?”

The dark man
rounded the counter, rubbing his hand. “What he wants is an ideal,
Quilla, a perfect and acceptable ideal. It is also the main reason
he regards his surrender on that ledge as betrayal - his.
Unfortunately, Torrullin is not enough of an idealist to accept
such a perfect solution.”

Quilla
blinked, surprised.