The Echolone Mine (77 page)

The season was
the same as expected in real time, but there was no Keep, no fawn
road meandering east and west, no Graveyard, therefore no sacred
sites and no Throne. Either this plane had moved in different
directions in an earlier time or that illustrious time was yet to
be.

Four men stood
on the rise where the Keep was in another place and gazed around
them, each awed and humbled for different reasons.

Torrullin,
murmured, “This is the valley I discovered after awakening from
Rayne.”

Tymall said,
“They never came here.”

“Raw beauty,
untamed power remains, and it will ever be,” Elianas said, looking
up as an eagle flew over.

“This is a
world untouched,” Tristan added.

A few moments
of silence ensued as each struggled to accept a new concept of
Valaris and then Torrullin asked, “
They
never came here”?”
He stared pointedly at Tymall.

“As Tristan
said, this is a world untouched. There has been no Valleur
settlement and certainly no human invasions either. There are no
sacred sites, not here, not anywhere on this planet. No light
beings, no darklings, no draithen, no Vallas, no Darak Ors. This is
a Valaris uninhabited and untouched. It is pure, a world without
the drawbacks of sentience.”

Elianas
remarked, “I cannot think that such purity would appeal to
you.”

Tymall sent
him a blistering look. “Then you do not know me, do you?”

“Enough,”
Torrullin said without heat. “Ty, did you choose this?”

“Did I
orchestrate this meeting, is that what you ask?”

“That is my
question.”

“No.”

Elianas
snorted. “Please.”

Tymall
shrugged. “I have no need to lie to my father, but believe what you
will.” He looked at Torrullin. “An hour ago I was minding my own
business, spending time with a healer, in fact, a new arrival, and
hoping he could restore me sexual function …” Elianas pulled a face
and Tymall glared at him. “Unless you lose it, Danae, you cannot
know what I mean, you who lust after my father …”

Elianas
snarled.

“Enough!” This
time the heat burned in Torrullin’s tone.

Both men
subsided and Tymall went on, “The healer irritated me and I was
about to kick his arse into the mists, when I felt a shivering in
my penis …”

Elianas
doubled over to hide his face.

Tymall glared
at him once more and then chose to ignore him.

“You know all
I can do is take a piss, so I was … hopeful. Hope is all I was to
have though, for the next instant brought excruciating pain, and I
did kick his bony arse out of there. That was not the end of it,
for I felt impelled to rise, to walk, to leave the palace, to cross
the drawbridge and enter the mists, impelled by a pulsing pain in
my penis. It hurt left when I was to go left and right when - you
get the picture. It was bound to get my attention, and I stood at
the site of portal where I last spoke to Tian and was told I could
exit safely into a realm where Digilan could not do anything to
Valaris, where another Digilan already held the status quo, and I
need not be afraid of causing harm. Did I want this, and did I want
to see my father in this place where it was safe to walk in
sunshine and not mist?
Did I want this
, the voice prompted?
Yes, I did, and thus I listened to the how, and here I am and here
you are.”

“How did the
voice sound?”

Tymall
shrugged. “It was a voice. I cannot say whether male or female,
speech or thought. It just was.”

“Gods, this is
stranger by the minute. This is like Lethe,” Tristan muttered.

“It
is
Lethe.” Elianas slapped at his thigh.

“Lethe, Reaume
or Ariann, we are not out and the planes are brought closer to
bedevil us,” Torrullin understood.

“Or herald
oblivion,” Tristan whispered.

“What are you
talking about?” Tymall demanded.

Torrullin
threaded a hand through his hair in obvious frustration. He frowned
at Tymall. “Which words did you hear? Did anything set it apart? An
accent, perhaps?”

Tymall’s eyes
flicked about. “I told you, there was nothing to hold onto. Are you
suggesting this isn’t an alternate and we could be fucking with our
realities? This means somebody wanted me out of Digilan.” He paced
away, agitation in his steps.

“He duped me,
the barrier between this and there is now made up of Shadow Wings,”
Elianas muttered.

Tymall growled
in escalating fury. “Will someone explain?”

“Do you feel
as if you came here of your own will?” Elianas demanded of him.

“I did until I
found myself stuck here.”

“Thus was I
duped into doing something exceedingly stupid.”

“Gods, we sent
the Syllvan out of hiding,” Torrullin groaned.

“And revealed
the grotto to the Dryads and Ixion,” Tristan murmured.

“Will someone
please put me in the picture?” Tymall demanded.

Elianas looked
at him almost pityingly. “Hold onto your cloak and staff now,
Warlock, for this will not be pretty.”

Tymall
swallowed. “I left my accruements behind.”

Torrullin
touched his brow significantly. “Nobody can take that away.”

He referred to
the hidden circlet Tymall as Warlock wore on his brow, for it was
part of the power a Warlock could wield not only in Digilan, but in
other realms also.

“Agreed, but
how effective is it if the Danae word of power causes little
disturbance?”

“Hopefully we
will not need to find out.”

Elianas
wandered to a copse of varied trees, all of them in autumn regalia,
and sat in the carpet of leaves. He leaned against the nearest
trunk, sighed, and his eyes closed. Tristan, after a slight
hesitation, followed suit, sitting against a neighbouring
trunk.

Torrullin,
frowning, watched them and thought he gradually lost his grip on
everything. He indicated with his head to Tymall that they do the
same and the two headed into the dappled shadows.

Elianas opened
one eye. “Try creating something to drink.”

Torrullin did
so and all four were relieved to see a bottle of wine appear in his
hands. “At least the Enchanter still functions.”

Tymall leaned
over to take the bottle. He pulled the cork free with his teeth,
and spat it out to take a huge swig. Lowering the vessel, he said,
“Someone had better get to talking.” He drank again and passed the
bottle to Elianas.

Torrullin
spoke. “A tale of titans at war. The Syllvan of Reaume versus the
Dryads of Ariann. The battle had adverse effects on our reality and
we suspected it would get worse. Someone had to go in.”

“Obviously,”
Tymall murmured, amused.

Torrullin went
on over the interruption. “Eventually it would have affected
Digilan also. The problem was the actual entry point, the Syllvan
grotto being sealed while the battles raged. This is where Lethe
takes on importance. Lethe borders both Syllvan and Dryad
territory. We entered and found the Syllvan with only four
gatekeepers remaining. We had to find a workable solution and
thought we had, in the form of Ixion.”

“Father of the
Centuar, according to legend,” Tymall frowned.

“Ixion is
merely a chosen name for a remarkable being in this instance. He
aided us in creating a barrier between Ariann and Reaume and thus
ended the confrontation and we could go home. We find ourselves
here, but whether Ixion did this we do not know.”

“It seems
obvious he had a hand in it,” Tymall murmured. “Why would he call
me, though?” Tymall watched Elianas. “Something was given to create
a barrier between the two territories and you claim to be the one
duped. What did you surrender, Danae?”

Elianas opened
his eyes and said, “Shadow Wings.”

Tymall
blinked. “Shadow Wings?”

“Yes,
Warlock.”

Tymall rubbed
a hand over his face, then, “Impossible. Do you know how old you
must be to possess such wings, and what you must be capable of
doing?” Tymall halted the flow of words, noticing how those dark
eyes shifted infinitesimally to his father. “Father?”

Tristan
watched Tymall, his gaze unblinking. He wondered what Tianoman saw
in this man as a father.

Torrullin
sighed. “Elianas released his wings, yes, and may have been led
astray.”

“Poetic,”
Elianas murmured. “Led astray by wings not earned in good
deeds.”

Tristan said,
“What about
your
wings, Torrullin?” Immediately he realised
his error.

Elianas gave a
wry grin and subsided against the tree, leaving Torrullin to deal
with the aftermath.

“Wings? You?”
Tymall whispered. “How? And how does he get them? Damn it,
Enchanter,
I
have no wings!”

Torrullin did
not know what to say. Had he known more about the purpose that
brought Tymall into this situation, whether by choice or duping, he
may have had an inkling as to how to proceed. It was one thing
telling Tristan about their wings and darker secrets, but telling
Tymall, Warlock of Digilan, could lead to trouble. Tymall never
allowed opportunity to pass and, truth be told, he could not afford
to, not in the realm of mists and evil.

Then there was
his disappointment over what Elianas sacrificed; he could not
believe the man was prepared to let go.

He looked at
his son and knew he dared not trust him. He loved him, but trust
was another matter.

After an
unpleasant silence, he said, “I cannot tell you more than I already
have, I am sorry.”

Tymall pulled
a face. “I expected you to do this.”

“You are
Warlock, son.”

“As if I have
forgotten recently,” Tymall muttered. He glanced at Elianas and
then studied Tristan more boldly. “You know, don’t you?”

Tristan
shrugged.

Tymall lifted
one shoulder in resignation, and said, “At least I am free of
Digilan for a time; this is a gift I shall not misuse.” He glared
at Elianas. “If you relinquished true Shadow Wings, I am
impressed.”

Elianas
smiled.

Silence
descended for a time as four minds wrestled individually with the
uniqueness of a strange situation.

How do you
grapple with slippery nuances and then hold onto a facet long
enough to affect the change required to alter a situation or
perception? Faith, reader, and self-belief.

Book of
Sages

Alternate
Valaris

“T
here are challengers in Digilan not backed by the
Magi, and one in particular stands out. I think he might have the
support of the Mor Feru; he isn’t one himself, but there’s a
gathering movement among the draithen that smacks of cohesion and
leadership. Digilan moves across a few realms and it is possible
someone in Digilan is pulling the strings.”

Elianas
murmured, “We were warned about this. Likely, then.”

“Who is the
challenger?” Torrullin asked.

“His name is
Adam - human. That is all I know,” Tymall responded.

Tristan said,
“Ixion mentioned finding Sabian when realms overlap.”

“That means
Nemisin,” Elianas growled.

Torrullin
sighed. “Did Ixion ‘mention’ how to find Sabian?”

Tristan’s eyes
shifted. “Sort of.”

Elianas leaned
his head back and closed his eyes. He already knew what Tristan
meant, and also understood it could not be easily said and then
discussed before Tymall.

“Sort of … you
are not sure or don’t want to say?” Torrullin snapped.

“I don’t want
to say.”

“Tymall is as
stuck as we are. Say it.”

Tymall’s gaze,
Tristan noticed, was sharp and he listened intently. “Fine. We’re
talking the Goddess of Souls here.”

Tymall was
confused, and it was satisfying, but Elianas was so silent it was
discomfiting.

Torrullin did
not move his gaze from Tristan, knowing every nuance was read. “We
need more detail than that.”

Elianas
sighed.

Tymall asked,
“Who is the Goddess of Souls?”

No one
answered. No one even moved.

Tymall got to
his feet, frustration evident in every movement. “Being trapped
here means being trapped here until something moves us onward and
closer to a solution. Warlock has nothing to do with it, as Elixir
and Alhazen has not. Gods, I get the trust issue, and I will
further admit you are right, but now you have to risk it.”

Still no one
said anything, although Torrullin moved his head to check on
Elianas. The man did not move. “Elianas, for Aaru’s sake.”

Without
opening his eyes, he responded, “Torrullin, he is your son.”

Torrullin
stood, paced away, stopped, looked at Tymall critically, and paced
more. Coming to a halt directly before Elianas, he kicked at his
feet.

Elianas opened
one eye.

“This concerns
you as much as it does me.”

“Agreed, but
you take the responsibility.” Elianas closed his eye again.

Tymall
approached. “How does it affect him?”

Torrullin
sighed and moved away. Tristan noted Elianas’ chest rise and fall
in silence when Tymall moved on as well.

“The Goddess
of Souls is seen only when two like powers clash,” Torrullin said.
“Thus only Elianas and I see … it.”

Elianas’ eyes
snapped open and he studied Tymall intently.

“It? Goddess
is female.”

“It is a name,
a term, for a collection of wise souls, and has been coined
Goddess.”

“And why is
that? Goddess implies power.”

“That would be
right.”

“Father, stop
beating about this tangled bush.”

“Simply put,
it is a line preventing sorcerers joining forces, clashing or one
taking power from the other. The power lies in agony.”

Tymall paced.
“That tells me nothing.”