The Echolone Mine (88 page)

Wild, wild
acclaim. “Tian! Tian! Tian!”

Torrullin
bowed and moved to the gathering in the centre.

Nemisin was
there. “You are stacking the odds.”

A stare. “And
you haven’t?”

“My turn,” and
Nemisin moved to head out.

“You do not
get to speak,” Torrullin said. “You had your turn in past
ages.”

“Watch
me.”

“Nemisin, make
another move, and it ends right now.”

A moment of
indecision, and he must have read something in Torrullin’s eyes,
for Nemisin murmured, “Very well.”

Torrullin’s
gaze shifted to Tianoman. “How are you?”

Tianoman
glanced at the host beyond the firelight. “You incited them on
purpose.”

“The last
thing I need is the Throne under me. I believe you are the
brightest future.” He closed in. “I am aware how angry you are, and
grief is a force waiting to be unleashed, but I am going to embrace
you. I want to do so because I love you, but I also want them to
know that I love you and my support is with you in every way.”

Tianoman moved
into that embrace without hesitation. “I embrace you because I love
you also.”

They grinned
at each other as they moved apart, and this time the acclaim beyond
the fire was at fever pitch. Shamans shivered as they understood
how much power lay in a Valleur host. The Kaval glanced at each
other.

Nemisin
growled, “Low blow, Torrullin.”

“Deal with
it.”

“Shall we
begin?”

“Elianas isn’t
here yet. We wait for him.”

“Ah, the lover
boy. How sweet.”

“You have
Cassy, Tian has Tristan. I need someone to pick up my pieces as
well.”

“Ah, you
reckon there will be pieces. How enlightening.”

An enigmatic
stare. “Push, Nemisin, I dare you.”

Nemisin
laughed and lifted his hands in mocking surrender. “I am not doing
anything.” He laughed again and then wandered off to snag Cassy.
They fell into low conversation.

Torrullin
glanced at Sabian, who nodded. Torrullin then made his way to the
Kaval, standing as a group to the left of the Throne. “Spread out
more. Be the voice of reason if this goes to hell. Use this chant -
ali tremen ke
- to appease the Valleur if they unleash the
power of one voice. It means ‘hearth and home’ and is in the
ancient dialect only Vallorins can know. They will listen, it will
speak to them, and they will return to their homes. Say it as many
times as you need to, for it does no harm.”

Anxious gazes
met his and one by one they nodded.

“Tell a few
shamans also, and do not give up.”

Belun
whispered, “What are the dynamics here?”

“They are torn
in loyalty. Nemisin has ancient status, historical significance,
and I, well, for some reason I am large and bold in Valleur
psyche.” He paused to smile. “Tian is the best hope for the future.
But how do they choose? Has what I indicated been sufficient to
sway? Thus, whoever wins out this night has claim to their loyalty,
but reason might dictate the Throne makes a mistake if Tian isn’t
chosen. It means civil strife. It also means the one voice
phenomenon might be in opposition, and that is huge danger for
Echolone this night, and the Valleur wherever they are after this.
Say the words.
Ali tremen ke
. Say it until you are hoarse,
and pray it does not come to that.”

“Gods,” Amunti
muttered.

“Spread out
unobtrusively after I walk away. Erin?”

“All is ready.
Northwest of the Throne.”

“Well
done.”

“Surely that
will incite violence?” Fuma murmured.

“It might, if
he wins and is then removed.”

“If he wins,
does he stay?”

“No.”

The Kaval
glanced again amongst themselves. Greater odds, then.

Torrullin
bowed, and moved casually back to the Throne. Gradually the Kaval
dispersed and prepared as commanded. He took a place beside Sabian
and murmured, “Northwest of the seat. A corridor has been
prepared.”

“How do I open
the door?” Sabian murmured back.

“He is part
Dragon and you are now his sword. Hold onto him, touch the two
symbols and push. And then you have a choice.” Torrullin moved his
head to glance at the fair man. “You are welcome in this realm,
know that.”

“Where,
Torrullin? Valaris feels odd, Sanctuary is too needy and Akhavar is
both too old and too new now. Where?”

“The Path is
far worse.”

“Maybe, but I
shall have a goal.”

Nemisin was
returning. “Then make a home on Avaelyn.”

Sabian hissed
through his teeth. “You would offer me that? Why?”

“I know what
it is like to be regarded as a Darak Or, and then the hardship in
clawing a way back from it. You do not have to stay, but there is
space enough for you to find your purpose again in private. The
offer stands.”

Torrullin
moved away as Nemisin started trading stares with Tianoman.

Sabian
mentally bowed. The question of who deserved his true loyalty had
now finally been laid to rest. The only issue remaining was how
best to serve that loyalty. Take Nemisin away forever to ensure it
stayed that way, or become Torrullin’s silent sword arm should he
need one?

Torrullin
meanwhile confronted Cassy. “You could have started fresh, Cassy. I
thought you hated the yoke of this particular father.”

Her eyes
glittered when she looked at him. “I do, but he is also my Vallorin
and I owe him my allegiance. Truth? I hate that he returned, I
despise that he uses my network, and I loathe that I must now bow
to him again, but I realise also if I break oath I am worthless as
both daughter and Valleur subject.”

“So you help
him … and hope for?”

“I hope he is
victorious over you and I hope that young man over there is
victorious over him.”

“You want to
see me squirm, is that it?”

Her stare was
direct. “Yes.”

“Why
exactly?”

Torrullin’s
shoulders abruptly stiffened … and she sighed. “That is why. He
arrives and you do not even have to see him to know he is here. And
he looks for you first.” She lapsed into silence, and then Elianas
was beside him.

“Cassy. In the
last few hours I prayed you will stand on our side of the
line.”

“Clearly you
did not pray hard enough, Elianas.”

“Clearly,” he
echoed, and then, to Torrullin, “How is Tian?”

Torrullin
jerked his head to indicate they move away, but Cassy laughed.
“Don’t bother - I’ll go.” She flounced off.

Dark eyes
bored into grey. “Are you holding?”

“Yes. Where
were you?”

“Preparing.”

“For?”

“Every
eventuality.”

“A hard
task.”

“Hard enough.
How is Tian?”

“In better
form than I had hoped. He might win this.”

“Good.”
Elianas drew breath, and then, “The seat is no longer sentient. It
may hark to a different harmony.”

“I know.”

“If it goes
for the longest ruling Vallorin, it is yours.”

“And if it
goes for ancient loyalty, it is Nemisin’s.”

“Thus is the
young one in the middle. He needs be strong.”

“He has a son,
and he desires that his son become ruler after him. I believe he
has that strength.”

“And we shall
support him.” Elianas murmured under his breath, and then, “One
voice is present here. Who brought them? This is a dangerous
situation.”

“They are
here, and one voice can be a support.”

“Only if Tian
is victorious without a shadow of doubt.”

“Hearth and
home, Elianas, and prayer.”

A small smile.
“I do not do well with prayer.”

A laugh. “I
don’t either. Come, let us begin this farce.”

Three Elders
and three Valleur were summoned to bear direct witness to the
procedure.

Nemisin did
not like it, but he understood the need for veracity. The six men
would not in interfere. They were there to listen to the manner of
calling and to the reaction given by the Throne. Yiddin was among
them, and tasked with declaring the victor to the gathered. He
paled, knowing the danger, but bowed and accepted the duty.

The six took
up position paces removed from the Throne, in line of sight. The
three contestants would stand before them one at a time. Tristan,
Elianas and Sabian moved to the left, while Cassy stood alone to
the right of the tableau.

Yiddin was
also tasked with order, and he called it. “Torrullin, Nemisin,
Tianoman. In that order three times. Every response will be noted
and calculated, and the winner will be declared after.”

Unless the
Throne reacted in a manner to leave no doubt.

Thus Torrullin
was first. He stood with the knot of six behind him and gazed
towards the golden seat. Then he stepped away.

Yiddin snagged
him. “You did not call.”

“That is my
choice.”

Yiddin stared
at him, and sighed. Gods, this could get bad. He nodded and
returned to position.

Nemisin
sneered. “Not playing, Lord Sorcerer?”

“Do your
thing.”

Tianoman
stared at him with wide eyes.

Nemisin
stepped up, folded his hands across his chest and bowed. A
collective and expectant breath drew in all sound amid the
gathered. Nemisin bent his will and mind at the golden seat, and
called. He did so in silence, and yet the sound reverberated
through to every magic user on that tundra.

Tarlinn, it is
I, Nemisin, your maker and ruler and partner. Come to me,
brother!

Tarlinn.
Ancient Valleur for brother-in-arms. Nemisin had named his
Throne.

It could be a
telling difference.

Every watcher
felt the seat of power resonate. It did not move, but it heard.

Nemisin bowed
again and stepped away. “Beat that, Tianoman.”

Tianoman was
regal as he took up position. He said, “You know me. I shall not
employ tricks, for I believe you are able to reason beyond
sentiment. You are an ancient, and you see with the eyes of time,
and thus you will make the informed decision. The Valleur revere
you. I revere you.”

Again there
was resonance.

The Valleur
went wild.

Tianoman bowed
and stepped away.

On Yiddin’s
face there was obvious relief. If one read results there, Tianoman
was ahead in the game.

Torrullin
smiled.

Nemisin was at
his side. “This time you call, Torrullin. This is not a fair
challenge if you keep silent.”

“I do not care
about fair. I want Tianoman to walk away the victor, as he should
be.”

“You will ever
wonder who it really belongs to.”

Torrullin
hissed in his ear, “I know who it belongs to, idiot, and it is not
you.” Smiling serenely, Torrullin again stepped into position.
Again he did not call. He gave it a few seconds and moved to step
out …

… the golden
seat transformed.

He swung
back.

The Throne
glowed as if lit from within. An aura of white light pulsed around
it.

Terrible
silence reigned.

Yiddin was so
pale it seemed he was about to collapse.

Torrullin was
not far from it either. He gasped out, “No! You know my heart! It
is not right that I be Vallorin!”

The Throne
pulsed.

The light did
not retreat even when Torrullin stalked off. He walked directly to
Elianas. “It is going wrong.”

Elianas
murmured, “Maybe it is making the right choice, my brother.”

Tristan asked,
“Can you not command it to stand down?”

Torrullin
threaded a hand through his hair. He drew a ragged breath, and
around the edges of his eyes spots of darkness skittered. “No, not
this time. But I can be something it will repudiate.”

Elianas paled
markedly. “Then you will not get to morning whole.”

Torrullin
stared at him. “So be it.”

Sabian, silent
on the other side of Tristan, made his choice.

As Torrullin
moved away and Nemisin, glaring his hate, stepped up, Tianoman
massaged his heart to still the erratic thumping. Elianas moved to
follow … and Tristan held him back.

“It’s hard,
but this time you must let him do as he sees fit.”

“You do not
understand.”

Tristan leaned
in. “I think I do. I also know you are Nemesis.”

Elianas
scowled at him. “What is that supposed to mean?”

“The Syllvan
said you are his nemesis …”

Elianas yanked
his arm free.

“… and then
they qualified that statement,” Tristan said. “They revealed you
would be Destroyer’s Nemesis.”

Elianas
halted.

Tristan pushed
it home. “If he is sundered this night with Destroyer in control,
and you pick up what is left, Elianas, you will save his soul for
eternity.”

Elianas bent
over, hands on knees, and hyperventilated.

Tristan laid a
hand on that tense shoulder. “You have to let him break.”

Elianas
straightened and stood as if turned to stone, his face becoming a
blank mask.

Tristan
whispered, “I am sorry.”

Nemisin
meanwhile took his place. Before he opened his mouth or could use
his mind to issue a summons the Throne dimmed. A second later the
glow was gone.

If that was
not a statement of intent, what else to call it?

Nemisin
blanched, and then issued a loud call, “Tarlinn, come to me!”

Nothing
happened.

Nemisin opened
his mouth, and Yiddin said, “You had your chance.”

Nemisin cursed
and moved away.

Sabian
murmured to Tristan, “Tarlinn; close to Torrullin, not so? Brother
in arms, and who fits that description most? I think old Nemisin
made the gravest error in giving it a name.”

Tristan
nodded.

Elianas said
nothing. He did not move either, but his senses tracked the fair
man stalking nearby. He could feel the darkness settling in there.
Soon Torrullin would be beyond usual recall.