The Echolone Mine (65 page)

“Fine.
Where?”

“The lake,”
Elianas suggested. “The moon has risen.”

Torrullin
stared at him. “You are aware of the moon before a
confrontation?”

“Elemental,
that’s me. Well?”

Torrullin’s
eyes narrowed. “Lead the way.”

Elianas gave a
mock salute and was gone.

Torrullin
stared at the empty space, muttering, “What is he up to?” He then
turned in a slow circle. “All is secure. Let’s go.”

Elemental
magic begins with nature’s beauty. Harnessing it to effect, whether
benign or to cause harm, is sorcery.

Steps of the
Magical Condition

Avaelyn

E
lianas was on the lakeshore looking for all the
universe like a marauder in the night.

The moonlight
cast him in silhouette, its bright beam a streak across the water
that ended at his feet, and his cloak moved in the low breeze.

Torrullin
hissed when he saw him.

Tristan
frowned. “Is something wrong?”

Torrullin was
silent and then, “Just stay like that, Elianas. See how long you
can stand it.”

Mocking
laughter came at them.

“Bloody man,”
Torrullin muttered and set about conjuring a meal. Every so often
he glanced at Elianas, shaking his head. When a sumptuous feast was
ready for consumption, he sat and started to eat. Tristan, bemused,
folded down and began wolfing in food.

“What’s he
doing?”

“Nothing.”
Torrullin was clearly peeved.

“Torrullin,
sort it out. You need a clear head.”

On his feet
immediately, Torrullin strode to Elianas. He took the man’s arm and
pulled him roughly along the shore until they were beyond
hearing.

Tristan chewed
on, wondering when he would get the opportunity to eat properly
again.

The thought of
going into Lethe was more and more uncomfortable.

“Tristan’s
right. You are messing with my head.”

“He said
that?”

“It’s what he
meant.”

“He means you
are letting me mess with your head.” Elianas walked on. “We have
gone beyond reasonable tally, Torrullin. I am weary of this.”

Torrullin was
behind him, keeping pace. “That was not the impression I had in the
cave.”

“Maybe I
cannot help myself.”

“Nonsense.”

“Your wings
spread first and you dared do so in this reality.”

“What the fuck
do you want from me? Really?”

Elianas swung
around and stopped. His features were in shadow. “Ceasefire.”

Dead
silence.

“Ceasefire,
Torrullin. A mutual ending of hostilities.”

More
silence.

Elianas
laughed. “I knew you would not agree. This is not my war, is it? I
am fighting your war.”

“Elianas, when
you stand in the beam of the moon you are not saying
I want to
end this
. You are saying
look at me and know me.
”

“Yes.
Exactly.”

More silence,
and then, “Maybe you need to be more specific.”

“Maybe, my
brother, you should look harder. These days you delve no further
than surface.”

“You halt me
as I look deeper.”

“You halt
yourself. I have not given as much as I do now.”

Torrullin
muttered an oath. “I remember the night you stood in icy water and
shouted at the moon. I remember the wounds you had and how you
dared the gods to scoop you up in the beam to take you away forever
and, by god, I remember how angry you were when I pulled you away.
Do you know why I did so? It was not because I thought you were
being fanciful and it was not the sight of your blood dripping into
the water or that I thought you might be cold … or crazy. I pulled
you away because I thought you might succeed. I was being fanciful,
but I was also terrified I would blink and you would be gone and I
would not again find you.”

Torrullin took
a step that took him right into Elianas’ space.

“Do not tell
me I look no further than surface. I know how much you mean to me
and I also know I am not alone in this.”

“Do you know
why I wanted it to take me? Did you understand and do you
understand why I request ceasefire? The reason is the same for
both. Can you answer?”

Silence.

“Do you know
why I was angry, and do you understand it is that anger I remind
you of now?”

Torrullin
lowered his head. His forehead rested on Elianas’ shoulder. “I am
lost, I think.”

Elianas’ chest
rose and fell. “Yes, you are, and thus we fight on. We continue to
dance.” He lifted Torrullin’s head and his fingers spread over
those cheeks before he stepped away. “We need to talk to Tristan,
set his mind at ease.”

He stepped
around Torrullin to return to where Tristan ate.

Torrullin
returned more slowly, deep in thought.

Tristan
dreamed.

He was in the
Throne’s presence back at the Keep, except it was different. The
walls were not fawn stone, but ebony black, and the dais seemed an
extension of it, while the small space was hexagonal and far
larger. A blue star on a rounded ceiling gave off eerie light. The
Throne was most changed. It was a-fire, a cold blaze, and in that
illumination was a figure embraced by two fiery arms. He dared step
closer to see who it was. The fire touched him and he was shivering
cold.

Torrullin.

Tristan
awakened and sat up, disorientated.

It was dawn on
Avaelyn, and beside him Torrullin slept.

On his other
side Elianas twitched.

Elianas
dreamed.

In his hand
was a bloody knife and he stared at it, and then moved his gaze.
Someone lay nearby; a hand clutched at a neck, a man dying. He
stared at the knife again, and dropped it. He crawled. There was
blood everywhere, he could not see the man’s face and did not know
how it happened. Had he done this?

He reached
out. And snatched his hand away. Ice cold. How? The man was alive,
if dying. He reached out again to wipe blood from the face, to know
who it was, to help.

Torrullin?

Torrullin -
dying.

He screamed
soundlessly, and fought free of his sleeping bag, lurching from
it.

He stared
down, at Tristan’s stark face, and Torrullin, fast asleep.

It was
day.

Tristan stared
up at Elianas, seeing there the remains of a dream, something like
to his.

“Elianas, I
think he’s in danger.”

A nod.

“I saw him
embraced by the Throne on fire. I had a similar dream a while
back.”

“I saw him
dying with his throat slit and the knife was in my hand.” Elianas
fell to his knees. “Dear god, I would never do that to him.”

“Our concept
of fear. The worst fate we can imagine.”

Elianas
blinked. “Murder.”

“The
Throne.”

“He cannot
die,” Tristan said. “Why see him dying?”

Elianas
twisted his neck to relieve tension. Rubbing it, he said, “Change.
There is utter change on the way. Do not tell him. If he expects
change, he will seek it.”

Tristan saw
the wisdom and nodded after a moment.

Torrullin
murmured and rolled in his bag.

Both looked at
him, but when he opened his eyes a moment later he saw Tristan
pulling boots nearer and Elianas stretching and staring over the
water.

Right, we’re
talking family again. best folk in the world … and also the
harshest judges.

Tattle

Valaris

A
islinn told him something was wrong, although she
could not explain herself.

It did not
feel right, she said, there was danger on the way.

Valleur
trusted other Valleur and their sensory perceptions and thus
Tianoman, disquieted, spoke with Yiddin and Vanar. Yiddin told him
something was a-foot in Grinwallin, something to do with Torrullin,
and pray, he asked,
who is Elianas?

Tianoman gave
an innocuous explanation, spoke with Aislinn and took himself to
Grinwallin.

The Dome

Belun
dreamed.

Of Declan,
last and lost Siric.

Had it been
another prompting him in a dream visitation, he might have ignored
it or brushed it away to attend to another time, but Declan was
specific, and when Belun shook from the fog of sleep, he entrusted
the Dome’s helm to Fuma.

Filled with
misgiving, he went to Grinwallin.

Sanctuary

Teroux was in
conference with the facility’s co-ordinators, a task he
enjoyed.

Nothing better
than streamlining. He thought of it as a way to aid the lost. Why
bog them down in paper when it was succour they needed?

Rose knocked
and entered without apology. She went directly to him and whispered
in his ear. He excused himself, and they went out into the
corridor.

She told him
the farspeaker chain was alive with new nuances and most of the
whispering was about Torrullin. She told him to go to
Grinwallin.

He went back
to the conference to briefly inform them he had been called away
and Rose would take his place until he returned.

He evaded all
questions, kissed Rose on the cheek, and left.

Grinwallin

Teighlar and
Quilla were hunched over a table, both red-eyed from lack of
sleep.

Not only had
Torrullin and Elianas not come as expected, and neither had Tristan
returned, but the two worked at strategy to foil Torrullin in his
intent.

The Great Hall
was silent this early in the day and would remain silent, for
Teighlar issued a command it was to be bypassed until he
countermanded the order. If he needed to tackle Torrullin, he
preferred to do so without Senlu witnesses, without his guards
interfering.

Caballa joined
them. She said without preamble as she sank into a chair, “Lethe
can kill Torrullin.”

Teighlar shook
his head. “Impossible.”

Quilla’s hands
curled together. He opened his mouth and closed it.

Teighlar went
cold. “Can he?”

Caballa
covered her face. “I hope I am wrong.”

Quilla’s tiny
hand gripped her wrist and he included Teighlar in what he said
next. “You must swear not to tell him. That man would welcome
death.”

Teighlar said,
“Quilla, can he die?”

“Can a true
Immortal die? No. Can Torrullin die? That is the real question.
Swear it.”

“I swear,”
Caballa said.

Quilla
released her and stared at Teighlar.

“Gods, I would
not tell him. I know he has a death wish. Of course I swear.”

Tianoman
entered and noted the three at a table cluttered with used mugs and
glasses. He shivered, and braced himself as he approached.

Caballa saw
him first and rose to bow. “My Lord Vallorin.”

He nodded and
then, “Is it Lethe? Has he gone in?”

“Not yet,”
Caballa murmured. “We’re trying to stop it. My Lord, how do you
know about Lethe?”

“I just know.
Caballa, sit, you look as if you are about to fall down. Teighlar,
what is it? Why stop him?” Tianoman drew up a chair. “How does
Lethe fit in?”

“It borders on
Reaume and Ariann, a staging area.”

“Ah, that
explains the dream,” Tianoman muttered. “Where are they?”

“We do not
know,” Quilla said. “We expected them for the crucible last night,
but they did not arrive.”

Tianoman
frowned and glanced at Caballa again. “And Tristan? I was sure he
would be in on this.”

“Tristan is
with Torrullin.”

Tianoman
swore. “He is in big time.”

Caballa stared
at her hands.

Then Belun
made himself known. The Centuar strode in, shouting, “Where’s
Torrullin? The man must stay away from whatever bloody realm he’s
choosing to enter now!”

“Belun?”
Quilla frowned.

“Don’t pull a
horse tail before my eyes, birdman! Declan came to me in a dream
and told me to stop this madness! Where is he - oh, hell, he isn’t
in, is he?”

“Not yet. Sit,
my friend. Maybe you are loud enough for him to hear,” Teighlar
murmured.

Belun,
muttering, sat and glared at everyone, but before he could say
anything a third person put in an appearance.

Teroux stopped
when he saw the gathering. “Well, seems you leave me out
again.”

“I just
arrived,” Tianoman said. “Aislinn said something was wrong.”

“Oh. Rose told
me the same thing.”

Quilla smiled.
“It is good to know you are tuned in, you two. Come, Teroux, and
let us tell you what we know.”

The
explanations were brief and Teighlar said nothing of what
transpired in the Luvan cave, but his intensity drove the tension.
Thus, although the explanation was abbreviated, there was no doubt
regarding the danger of entering Lethe.

Caballa said
nothing about Torrullin dying and hoped it was symbolic for
profound change. Change she could accept, whatever form it
took.

Quilla said
nothing about the line or how to cross it. Belun, Tianoman and
Teroux, therefore, did not receive the full picture. No one at the
table had one.

While in
animated discussion, everything stilled around them. They fell into
silence and each in his or her way faced the arches.

The three men
walked in with cloaks swirling, hands on swords, dressed alike,
withdrawn. They walked in tandem, almost in slow time, and it was
not an act to garner support or to instil control; it was, simply,
the way of it.

Caballa
groaned. “He is going in with them.”

Tianoman
hurtled up.