The Echolone Mine (75 page)

“It is and so
is Ariann. Lethe will be a barrier far sterner now, but I think you
are aware the realms are too linked to place an unassailable divide
between them. A time comes when all realms must flow into each
other. For now, all will be quiet, particularly Reaume. The Syllvan
will require time to restore the Gatekeepers. If you are able, stay
away as long as you can and, Torrullin, close the entrance that
heralds Digilan; the Syllvan will be too engaged on renewal to
watch it as closely as it must be watched.”

“Why this
aimless wander in Lethe?”

Ixion grinned.
“Weariness leads to a desire for an ending. Your aimlessness
brought you here at a point where you were willing to be done in
order to go home.”

“You turned
him to stone,” Tristan frowned. “Where is aimless and acceptance in
that?”

“And I had you
on a torture bed, yes,” Ixion murmured.

Torrullin
swung around. He stared at Elianas. “Is this true?”

Elianas
inclined his head.

“Were you
bound?”

Silence.

Torrullin
wandered closer with measured steps. “Sacrifice, my brother, is
that it? What did you surrender to free us?”

“I told you,
not here.”

Torrullin
halted before Elianas. “Was this journey about you? Tell me that at
least.”

An unblinking
stare. “No, it was about you.”

Torrullin
licked his lips. “Crap.”

Blink.
“Believe it.”

Torrullin
glanced at Tristan. “You?”

“Hell, I know
less than you,” Tristan muttered.

Torrullin
moved away. He ignored Elianas, until he swung around to catch the
dark man in the act of pinching his nose with a hand that clearly
shook. Elianas froze, dropped his hand and swore.

Tristan drew
breath, then jerked when Ixion tapped him on the shoulder and bade
him retreat, saying there were certain matters that required
sharing, matters not revealed to Elianas, matters to be told to
Torrullin when he was less concerned with the dark man, matters
Tristan would have to reveal, for he, Ixion, was leaving and would
be gone before Torrullin finished with Elianas over there, and he
was not returning. His time was now complete.

Reluctantly
Tristan retreated with the generic man and was soon spellbound by
what Ixion told him in a measured voice and showed by placing
fingertips on the pulses at his wrists.

Torrullin
meanwhile stalked Elianas, who walked in the opposite direction,
saying, “Torrullin, this isn’t the place. Let that clown do his
vanishing trick and take his clever words with him, and let us be
done with the Syllvan and out of Lethe, and then we may discuss
what happened here today with greater equanimity.”

“We require
equanimity?”

“We do. Now
let it rest.”

“Elianas.”

The dark man
stopped. “Do not use that tone with me. I am not a child.” He
spread his hands. “Look at this place, Torrullin, this is the
between, the nowhere and all over. This is no place to settle a
dispute.”

“A dispute was
settled here though?”

“Not ours,
never ours. Gods, do you want all of it now? Do you even know what
you did today?”

“Why don’t you
tell me?”

“Elixir was in
stone, Ixion’s containing, and Elixir fought to get out and as he
fought he visited destruction on the weak worlds. I had to stop you
before you did the same to Valaris. I had to make a choice and I
stand by that choice, but what form it took is not to be told you
here. Gods, be patient, will you? We get to the finer points soon
enough.”

Torrullin
swirled his tongue in his mouth, eyes darkening with renewed ire.
“You saw the destruction I was causing? Did he show you? No? Then
how do you know? Is it not likely he used a plausible scenario to
force your hand?”

A brief
silence. “It is not impossible, but even so, there was Tristan. He
was bound, gagged, blindfolded and strapped to that contraption
over there, and he was trapped in a glass cage I was unable to
break into. Was I meant to leave him like that, because maybe it
was in my imagination? Be real, will you? I had no choice.” Elianas
paused and then hurled out, “I am happy with my choice, know that.
I do not give a shit what you think. I am relieved certain matters
are now beyond my control, and yours. Now, again, I ask that we
leave this to another time and place, so we may exit Lethe without
further sacrifice. Torrullin, Tristan can still get out alive now.
How far will you push this before you see it?”

It halted
further argument. Torrullin was aware sacrifice had been in the
offing, a necessary device to appease the fates, and he knew before
entering Lethe.

Elianas had
known, as had Quilla, Teighlar, Declan and even Caballa. They
assumed the sacrificial lamb would be Tristan, and now Elianas
pointed out that death could be evaded. In fact, he said it had
been avoided, but would hold only if questions ceased.

Torrullin
sighed. “Fine. Another time and place.”

Elianas paced
forward. “This damnable place is strange. Where are the rules? We
have not done anything and we expected to fight Dryads.”

“I freely
admit I am relieved we avoided it, especially now we know they are
Syllvan in nursery. At least the Syllvan will be happy with the
outcome, even if Ixion did engineer this sorry mess.”

“You know he
engineered it?”

“It was
obvious the instant I heard him. He needs to move on. I hope he did
not exact too high a price from you.”

Elianas
sniffed and gazed into the distance. “I think not.”

“Can it be
undone?”

Elianas
returned his gaze to the fair man. He ambled nearer and placed his
hand on Torrullin’s shoulder.

“It cannot be
undone, but it can be remade with time. If you ask that I remake
what I lost, however, know your words must have great power and
terrible truth in the asking or we find ourselves sundered in a way
neither of us have foreseen. Something would be broken, perhaps
irreparably.”

“Or the way is
made new and the properties of battle are altered. A challenge,
Elianas?”

“Indeed, my
brother, but you must be prepared to pay the price also.”

Torrullin
moved out from under that hand. It was, this once, too heavy.
“Fine. I promise to think before asking you to do anything to alter
the sacrifice of today.”

“Today cannot
be altered, not ever.”

“Let us be
gone from here,” Torrullin said. The dark man had shown strength
today, and the uncertainty instilled in him a sense of
displacement, therefore a sense of vulnerability. He did not
particularly enjoy the feeling.

Together they
headed back to Tristan and Ixion, and found the generic man gone.
Tristan gazed back at them with an enigmatic expression and both
men groaned, recognizing the expression for what it was - future
trouble.

“Let us go
home,” Torrullin suggested.

“Yes, let’s do
that,” Tristan said.

Aw, hell,
appearances
are
deceiving!

Tattle

T
he way back to the Syllvan at rest was easier than
the way in.

They
discovered the trunk sentients in the same state of hibernation and
it took concerted calling to wake the four creatures.

A period of
explanation followed, which they did not interrupt, not even to
enquire after what Elianas sacrificed, and then a period of
appreciation ensued.

Thereafter the
Syllvan clambered ponderously to their ‘feet’ and stated they were
returning to the grotto, there to commence the process of
reinstituting the gatekeeper system.

Once that duty
was successfully completed, the men returned to the site of portal
and found the way barred. Fortunately the Syllvan were aware of the
dilemma, and they were taken up by the Gatekeepers of Reaume and
released via the grotto into Valaris.

Never had a
world’s air smelled as wholesome.

Valaris

They barely
arrived to know themselves back on Valaris before Torrullin had a
hold of Elianas’ arm and dragged him aside.

Tristan
threaded an irritated hand through his hair and moved away to abet
them in the need for privacy, although he doubted Elianas welcomed
it. The dark man was not fighting the coercion, but it was also
clear he was not happy.

Torrullin
stopped, and flung Elianas aside. “Talk.”

Only silence
ensued.

“Fine,
I
will talk,” Torrullin muttered. He hooked his thumbs into
his waistband and paced nearer. “Before we entered Lethe we knew
there would be sacrifice.”

Elianas
interrupted. “Hogwash, Torrullin - we suspected. And everyone
thought Tristan would pay the price, while Tristan and I thought it
would be you. Well, hello, my brother, every expectation we had has
come to naught.”

Grey eyes
silvered. “You thought I would pay a price?”

“Yes, but it
has not happened.”

“Wrong, it
has. I sacrificed you.”

Elianas
inhaled raggedly. “What do you mean?”

Torrullin lost
interest in the conversation. “I am heading to Grinwallin right
away. Gods, go home, will you, and think about what you say to me
next.” He gestured at Tristan, calling out, “Grinwallin!”

Tristan
inclined his head and was gone from there.

“Wait,”
Elianas blurted. “Torrullin, for god’s sake …”

“We are the
gods, Elianas. You use our names in vain.”

A slow blink.
“Fuck off.” Elianas was gone.

“Yes, brother,
that is highly likely,” Torrullin whispered and followed Tristan to
Grinwallin.

Grinwallin

It was morning
in the Senlu city and a wet fog drifted in to obscure view of the
continent beyond the plateau.

The steps of
the portico were slick and dangerous. It was early, an hour when
few were about. As Torrullin trod the stone steps he wondered for
the first time how much time Lethe had sapped from the linear
concept in this reality.

Lethe was a
realm of hours interspersed with periods of oblivion. Add it up and
the sum could be a few days at the most, but what happened beyond
was not often measured the same here.

The Time realm
took a year out of reality when it was mere days, and the Void took
three years when it was only moments, and the Path of Shades took
lifetimes as well as lives.

He slid on the
portico and righted himself with a muttered curse. A white-faced
Tristan tore through the arches, skidding to a halt when he saw
Torrullin.

“Hell, Tris,
slow down,” Torrullin said. He shivered in the cold and looked down
into the silent city. “It must be earlier than I think.”

“That’s just
it,” Tristan whispered, “
when
is it? Where is everybody,
where is Caballa?”

Torrullin
frowned. “Meaning?”

“It’s empty.
There isn’t a soul in the Great Hall, not a sound or smell.
Torrullin, it has an air of abandonment.”

Torrullin
strode past him, paling as he went. A discordant note had sounded
and it meant something was indeed wrong.

He entered the
great space where the Senlu at any time of day and night could be
found and discovered the eerie silence Tristan turned round and
around in moments ago.

Tristan was
behind him, a heart beating rhythms of fear.

Torrullin,
sending a puzzled glance his way, wandered to a nearby pillar. He
squinted in the wintry gloom at the spring vines he knew curled
around the pillar, and drew a breath and stepped away.

“Check the
library,” he told Tristan as he set off towards the stairs that led
to the royal chambers.

“What does
this mean?” Tristan asked, heading to the library. His voice echoed
in the space.

“We could be
in the wrong time,” Torrullin called out. He climbed the stairs
swiftly and vanished into the system of grottos Teighlar uniquely
made his own. He was out an instant later, and stood
hyperventilating at the top of the stairs.

Tristan, upon
an ashen exit from the library, stared up. “Wrong time or wrong
realm?”

Torrullin took
in several breaths before he could force himself to move calmly
down the stairs.

“Wrong plane,”
he said after a few more moments of silence and self-debate.
“Teighlar’s apartment shows no sign of ever having been renovated,
the paint on the pillars isn’t just faded; the pillars have never
been painted. What did you find in the library?”

Tristan stared
at Torrullin. “Nothing, not even a shelf, not a rusted nail or a
torn page.
Nothing
.”

Torrullin came
to a halt, blinked owlishly in the gloom, and then headed back out
into the wintry city. He stood on the portico staring down.

Tristan joined
him.

“The Syllvan
would not make this kind of error, sending us into another plane. I
doubt they have the means to do so, mistake or not. Ixion would not
need to flout his power and the sliver has moved on anyway.” He
glanced at Tristan. “Do you know anything of the sacrifice Elianas
made?”

“You think
Elianas caused this? Goddamn it, Torrullin, where’s Caballa in all
this?”

Torrullin
gazed outward over the snowscape that was Tunin continent. “Caballa
is safe where you expect her to be safe. This place does not
interfere with that.”

“Would there
not be a Caballa here?”

Torrullin
shrugged. “Maybe, maybe not. I cannot tell from this kind of
abandonment. Tristan, talk to me about Elianas.”

“There is
nothing to tell. I don’t know. How did this happen? It’s not
Elianas, he wouldn’t do this.”

“You don’t
know him the way I do.”

Then the dark
man put in an appearance. He alighted on the slippery portico,
stumbled, and found his footing. A moment later he studied their
expressions and then he nodded and faced the view.