The Echolone Mine (69 page)

Torrullin
looked down on the dark head. “We had no choice.” He hunkered. “It
is the Syllvan who concern me, Elianas. They cannot abide Shadow
Wings.”

Tristan sat.
“They do not judge, not like that.”

“I am not
worried they will judge us; I am worried they will judge the use of
our wings.”

“Why should
they?” Elianas murmured. “We would use them to their
advantage.”

Torrullin
pushed himself up again and then leaned forward to stare into the
water. There was no reflection. “Using the wings removes our sense
of judgement.”

Elianas sucked
at his teeth. “We are not near that point.”

“We must be
wary, though.”

Elianas looked
away. “I wonder where this is.”

“They will
know,” Tristan said. “What was that strangeness after Glare?”

“Discouragement. Some portals are like that. Others, as you know,
are like antechambers with veils.” Torrullin gave a wry smile.

“Tian says
Digilan is a direct transfer.”

“Actually it
isn’t - there is the mist - but, yes, it is more direct.”

“A father-son
connection,” Elianas murmured.

Torrullin
inclined his head. He stared deeper into the water, wondering why
it had no reflective properties.

“If that
strangeness was all portal, then this is Lethe, right?”

Elianas said,
“A realm of Lethe, hopefully.”

“Realm or
reality, who knows,” Torrullin murmured.

“It isn’t
Oblivion, mercifully,” Tristan sighed.

“There is no
reflection in the water,” Torrullin said. “Thus there is no sense
of self, at least not here.”

Elianas made a
sound in his throat. “I sense myself.”

“For how
long?”

“Torrullin, do
not get esoteric again.”

“I am not,
idiot. It is a valid question in this place.”

“You are
judging too soon.”

Torrullin
looked up into the trees. “We are summoned.” He strode away from
the water and into the forest.

The four
remaining Syllvan were waiting. The one who earlier requested
privacy spoke first.

“A
question-answer mode of communication is not viable now and thus we
dispense with that formality. We speak now without nuances.”

Torrullin
nodded. “We are saddened by the loss of your brethren, as you must
be. We hope to right this wrong.”

“Our brethren,
as you put it, Elixir, are evolved onward. This is not cause for
sadness, but a cause for inner joy. It is not a wrong that requires
justice. However, a wrong is being worked against Reaume and that
has need of your particular skills.”

“I freely
offer it.”

“We thank you,
but Shadow Wings are dangerous anywhere and most specifically here.
You must not use them again.”

“I must
qualify. We shall not use them, unless we have no other
choice.”

“That is
acceptable,” the Syllvan they aided earlier murmured. He leaned
towards his companions. “Had they not come on their wings, my
brothers, I would not now be speaking to you.”

“We are not
afraid of dying,” the third Syllvan sighed.

“Agreed,
brother, but Reaume still requires sentinels. Some of us must
survive.”

“Very well, we
accept the qualification.”

Torrullin
bowed over his hands.

“May I ask
where we are?” Tristan said.

“This is Lethe
where Oblivion might catch you unaware. We, the Syllvan, left
Reaume to bring the fight here; this was decided upon as a
safeguard. Fight on the borders and the land between and hope to be
victorious, and in the meanwhile Reaume remains unscarred. Lethe,
however, slowly saps from us recognition of purpose, and we can
only hope the same disadvantage applies to the Dryad.”

“Is Reaume
unscarred?” Torrullin asked.

A long silence
and then four unblinking gazes settled on Elianas. “The Danae has
come with Alhazen energy. We pray now that Reaume is
unscarred.”

Elianas drew
breath. “You did not say my name before in the grotto.”

“A word of
power should not be uttered in Reaume. Lethe is more forgiving.”
The authority figure had spoken and he added, “We have been waiting
long to say your name, Elianas Danae.”

“Why?”

“You are the
oldest blood in existence. You are special.”

Elianas
glanced at Torrullin.

“The Valla is
older, yes, but not so his blood.”

“Did you know,
Elixir?”

Torrullin did
not look at Elianas. “I know.”

“Had it been
different, the Danae would be rulers of the Valleur.”

“I am
aware.”

The fourth
Syllvan sighed. “He has done too much off the pure path to restore
himself to such a position.”

Torrullin
briefly closed his eyes. “I am not innocent myself.”

A long
silence.

“I said, I am
not …”

“We heard. We
choose not to answer.”

“They mean you
did less wrong, Torrullin. You killed less,” Elianas muttered.

“No, Danae,
that is not what we mean. Elixir killed more, if you seek numbers,
yet his reasons were sounder. It does not make him an innocent,
only less guilty.”

Elianas spread
his hands eloquently.

“The degree
between less and more, Elianas, is truly infinitesimal.”

Elianas closed
his eyes. He shook his head.

“Vengeance
murders the pure path.”

Elianas
snapped, “I get it.”

“Do not anger.
We are not judging.”

“Gods,”
Elianas muttered. He sat. “My entire existence is characterised by
revenge. How do I not anger and how can you not judge?”

The head
Syllvan spoke. “The thirst for vengeance commenced with the
disappearance of your father, Elianas.”

The dark head
swung down.

Torrullin
breathed through clenched teeth, suddenly and brightly enlightened.
He leaned in and dragged that dark head up. “I swear on Tristamil’s
soul I had nothing to do with what happened to your father. Not by
design or default. Dear god, Elianas, is that what you carry
around? Have you blamed me all these ages?”

Elianas jerked
his hair free. He rose fluidly. “Nemisin told me Lord Sorcerer
orchestrated my father’s disgrace.”

“Nemisin
lied!” Torrullin spat out. “He sought to use you.”

“He obviously
succeeded,” Tristan murmured.

The Syllvan
said, “It has become clear to us what was unclear before. The power
that is Alhazen has the ability to bridge between vengeance and
true justice.”

“What does
that mean?” Elianas snarled.

Silence.

Elianas stared
at each of them and then, “What happened to my father?”

The fourth
Syllvan replied, “He was in love with Nemisin’s wife and some said
Cassiopin was his daughter …”

Elianas
blanched.

“It is untrue,
but the point is, many knew there was a relationship between
Tingast Danae and Valeri of the Lorin. They were not lovers, but in
Nemisin’s eyes they were. He loved Valeri, however, and would not
set her aside or insult her by accusing her of cuckolding him. He
knew she was not, yet regarded her friendship with Tingast as a
form of betrayal. Thus he set out to disgrace Tingast by slow
degrees. Rumours of ill will, words of shady dealings, conspiracy
and, worst of all, that the man was a paedophile.”

“Goddess,”
Elianas whispered.

“Unfortunately
for Nemisin, few believed it. Tingast was a good man and many
rallied to his side. Valeri flew into her husband in a rage over
the whispers and demanded he fix it. Nemisin promised, and not long
after Tingast vanished. Some said it was guilt, others he had been
murdered, but Nemisin had an alibi and that alibi was his wife.
Valeri, in fact, did love her husband and thus did not suspect him
of wrongdoing, but neither did she believe Tingast guilty of
anything other than a good heart. She believed, as many others did,
that another murdered him, but she alone did not think her husband
gave the command. He did give the order, and in later years told
you it was Lord Sorcerer. He gave the order to another, however,
and Lord Sorcerer knew none of it.”

Torrullin
said, “I investigated your father’s disappearance upon Valeri’s
command, and that, I believe, was when Nemisin’s enmity of me
began. The stupid man thought I was trying to seduce his wife.
Nemisin, while stupid in love, was not so in other areas. He
covered his tracks well. There was no proof of murder.”

Elianas said,
“So much of what came after was based on what I thought you did to
my father … and to me.”

“Why did you
not accuse me? We could have stopped the cycle of violence before
it began.”

“I loved you
before I hated you.” Elianas put a hand to his chest. “I thought I
would have to walk away.”

Torrullin
turned aside.

Elianas went
cold. “Torrullin, forgive me.”

“It is too
late, Elianas. I am aware the real bastard is Nemisin, but if you
loved before you hated you should have known different. I
understand more clearly now why certain events followed, but they
cannot be undone. Forgiveness will not undo ages. I have now lost a
whole piece of you. Let me deal with it.”

“What is the
true justice in this?” Elianas shouted at the Syllvan.

“It has
already begun,” one said. “Inside. You are now changed.”

Elianas
breathed in, out. “How does that help Torrullin?”

“It helps you,
and you must help him. Build the bridge, Elianas Danae.”

“The bridge is
built with the stones of truth,” the fourth Syllvan added.

“Huh,”
Torrullin muttered. “Bullshit.”

Elianas
stilled. “Truth?”

Torrullin’s
head swivelled.

“You carry a
truth, Elianas, which would set you free,” a Syllvan said.
“Torrullin carries a truth that will release him. This dual secrecy
is the basis for brinkmanship and yet you know vengeance was
manufactured by another, and you must know the duty has fallen to
you to speak first. In that, you then help yourself and it could
force admittance from Elixir. This is where justice prevails.”

Elianas looked
to Torrullin.

Another
Syllvan spoke. “Be warned. Lethe subverts truth. If both desire a
lasting solution to your battle, do not speak truth in this place
between. Keep it for when there is quiet, when you are not required
to fight for others. Wait until you know the moment is real.
Unfortunately, much lies between this moment and that.”

Torrullin
paced forward. “We are being selfish.There are greater issues at
hand. Tell us what you know of the Dryads.”

Elianas turned
blindly away. Even Tristan could tell Torrullin distanced himself
from even the possibility of forgiving Elianas.

Torrullin,
finally, had found a focus for ages of anger.

“Ariann
encompasses twelve universes and eighty-nine realms,” the ‘central’
Syllvan began.

“This is a
tiny figure compared to the responsibility of Reaume, but Reaume is
older, more settled, and has greater governance. A long time ago we
balanced the scales and found a way to look forward and back to
understand and know. Ariann is growing at a greater pace and its
gatekeepers flounder in the confusion of time.

“We were once
vines also. We understand their confusion and we realise their
immaturity. We know they must look outward before they are able to
find the foundations that are the roots from which trees may grow
mighty and patient. We found our patience over many eons; they are
still too young. In their youth they are impetuous, selfish,
greedy, impatient, and they do not see they are the new Syllvan.
This is our dilemma. Not only do we have to protect Reaume from
them, but we cannot afford to kill them, for they are our future
brethren. Ariann is the nursery in which Syllvan are grown.”

“Hell.”
Torrullin paced more.

“Like all
children they test the boundaries,” another murmured. “When we
asked whether Elianas had inadvertently fallen into Ariann from the
Path of Shades, we accidentally reminded them they have power. We
also gave them impetus. The children have not tested the boundaries
in a long time.”

“Tell them who
they will be,” Tristan frowned.

“That is not
how a Syllvan is grown. Telling a thing is not the same as knowing
a thing.”

“But they are
killing you. How can you accept that?”

“It is time
for renewal, young lord. As we die, thus they grow and, as they
age, thus more vines sprout.”

“What happens
to you?”

“There is no
death. We become for a brief period bipedal, a short learning
interlude, and we walk among the broad normality that is sentience.
Few see us, but we see you, and then, when the music soars, we
meander onto a different plane. There is peace and there we shape
the seeds that are sown anew in Ariann.”

“Light
beings,” Torrullin whispered. “Taranis saw you as a young boy.”

A ponderous
nodding. “Taranis had extraordinary sight. Your father not only saw
us at the Well of Crystal Sound, but he heard the music that set us
free. It shaped his future. It gave life to you, Torrullin.”

“The
music?”

Elianas’ hands
clenched under his armpits as the Syllvan replied, “Indeed, my
friend. The music.”

Torrullin
stilled, staring at them. “Vannis claimed he helped your kind go
free when the settlers desired to destroy you.”

“Vannis
Lorinin Valla is revered among the Syllvan.”

“Lorinin?”
Torrullin whispered.

“Yes, my
friend. Vannis held the keys. He always held the keys.”

“Where are
they now?”

“In your
heart. You are Lorinin also.”

Elianas
doubled over, hyperventilating. The Syllvan gazed at him in mute
understanding. “You are
Lorinin
?” Elianas questioned from
that bent position. “Gods, I am so blind. I was so blind.”