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Authors: Elaina J Davidson

Tags: #dark fantasy, #time travel, #apocalyptic, #swords and sorcery, #realm travel

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BOOK: The Nemesis Blade
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Caballa?
Tristan asked.

Which one are
you?

Tristan.

Tristan … and
I sense Teroux and Tianoman alongside you. Tristan, I cannot listen
to three of you over this vast distance.

May they
listen in?

Yes.

Thank you.
Caballa, we need to see you.

Why? Are you
in danger?

No, but
Torrullin may be.

Torrullin
knows how to look after Torrullin. Tristan, I know you are Valla
and have the right to command me…

Not unless I
am Vallorin, Caballa.

I had this
conversation once with your father, a long time ago. You are Valla;
you may command.

I choose
not to; I am asking. Something is amiss with everything,
Tristan responded.

Currently I
sit with two Kaval. Rumours of an army, three kingdoms, and Lowen
is missing. Something is decidedly amiss, but Torrullin is aware
and is already dealing with it.

Lowen is
missing? No wonder he acted crazy.

How do you
mean?

I think he is
dreaming, Caballa, and I think it is about Lowen. We did not know
she is missing, but it makes sense now. He spoke of layers of rock,
time going backward and it frightened us. We believe he needs
you.

So you took it
upon yourselves?

Yes.

Torrullin does
not need me, Tristan.

I think you
are wrong.

If he does, he
may call.

We need you,
too.

Caballa’s eyes
snapped open. Damn and blast.

Caballa?

She stared at
Saska, but was not seeing her. Hearing the echo of Tristan’s call,
she debated whether to ignore him. Seeing Saska was about to speak,
she re-entered the communication.
Tristan? How do you know he is
dreaming?

Relief from
Tristan as he sent back,
I dream. I know the signs.

How does he
seem to you?

Confused,
overwhelmed. Like the time before he became Elixir. He may be aware
of the situation and he may be countering, but I doubt he is
prepared for what he will discover and, Caballa, if Lowen is
missing …

She is missing
in time.

Gods, and whom
do you think will fetch her? This may be another altering for
him.

She swallowed
before she sent,
Return to Valaris, Tristan, and take Rose with
you. I shall come to you there.

Elation from
Tristan, and then doubt.
Why do I need Rose?

She is able to
use the chain for you and, as she is listening in, she knows too
much now. Rose, sweetie, can you hear me?

Rose took
over.
I hear you, Caballa.

Shut the
Vallas out.

Rose did so.
They are deaf now.

Go with them,
Rose, but do not play with them. These are powerful men and they
can squash you.

Maybe I should
stay here.

If you do not
go, Torrullin will send someone to extricate you. You do not want
that.

What do I
know, for Aaru’s sake?

You are a
farspeaker, sweetie, and all you need is listen afterward to the
echoes. Dangerous for you. Go with them, but stay with Tristan, for
he has the intelligence to ignore your lures. Understood?

Yes.

Good. I
shall see you on Valaris shortly.
Caballa severed the
connection. Poor Rose. “I am going to Valaris,” she said, looking
at Saska.

“Are they in
danger?”

“They may
be.”

“When?” Saska
asked in a small voice.

“In the
morning.” She glanced at Prima. “Ask Sabian about the Three
Kingdoms of Orb; that is what you are after.” Caballa looked next
to Declan. “Agnimus has changed form and personality and cannot be
found while you seek what you saw of him on Valaris. You must find
the altered man. There are precedents for this amongst the lore of
the Ancients - Sabian will know.” She rose. “If you will excuse me,
I need to pack essentials.”

“Gods,
Caballa!” Saska jumped to her feet.

“You should
come with me.”

Saska
withdrew. “No.”

Caballa smiled
with understanding. “I will return after I’ve spoken to the
Vallas.”

Saska nodded
without speaking.

“Caballa,”
Declan frowned, and then did not know what to say.

Prima said it.
“There is a meeting in the Dome in less than a week. The Dome will
be floated on Averis Lake before Elixir’s villa on Sanctuary. You
should be at that meeting, Valleur seer, perhaps even with the
Valla heirs.”

She stared at
the tall, formal Prima. “The Dome is coming through
atmosphere?”

Declan
grimaced. “Bait and threat in one guise. This is no small danger we
are dealing with.”

“Gods,” Saska
murmured.

Caballa sucked
breath in and then, “Perhaps I will be at that meeting, yes.”

Sabian looked
from one to the other, blue eyes wide. “Orb is Sanctuary, do you
know that? The Three Kingdoms of Orb are Sanctuary … and the Dome
is to go down there? That is absolute madness.”

There was
silence. Then, “We should take him to Torrullin now, Siric.”

Declan nodded.
“Agreed. Maybe the Dome’s descent may be arrested.”

Sabian
blubbered, “I cannot speak to Elixir; I shall lose my voice!”

Prima gave a
grim smile. “He does not need you to speak with words, Master
Historian. You are coming with us and we are going now. Where is he
at present, Declan?”

“Grinwallin.”

“Then to
Grinwallin we go. Sabian?”

“Now? I have
nothing packed!”

“You will be
returned soon and if not, we shall provide. Now.” Prima was firm
and held his hand out. “My Lady, it was good to see you. Please
forgive this rapid and rude departure.”

Saska nodded
as if she had lost the ability to speak.

Declan kissed
her cheek. “I will come back with news soon, all right?” Then he
gripped a stubborn Sabian, glanced at Prima and vanished with the
historian. Prima gave a grin, bowed and followed the Siric’s
signature.

Leaving Saska
and Caballa staring at each other.

Chapter
13

 

The real truth
lies in Grinwallin’s secret escape routes. Not even the Senlu have
discovered those. One day you will remember those hidden spaces,
when you need to find a way out … or a way to somewhere. It will
lead you to the Luvan truths. And other secrets.

~ Rixile to
Elixir, Grinwallin

 

 

Grinwallin

 

T
orrullin had not spent real time in the inner city of
Grinwallin.

He knew of
ways, one of which led to the crucible chamber, another leading to
the mortuary and another to the Healer’s Cavern and he would
probably not get lost.

Now he no
longer knew where he was in relation to the Great Hall and had no
idea where Teighlar led the way to.

All he knew
with certainty was that Grinwallin, city inside a mountain, was
larger than imagined. It always stumped him, Teighlar’s claim that
ten million could pack into the city if crisis loomed, and now he
understood that assertion. There were more caverns inside than
homes outside, more infrastructure than was apparent from the outer
walls, and he knew there was a massive system below even these many
levels where Grinwallin’s industry flourished.

“Teighlar, is
there another exit from the mountain?”

“There was
once.”

“Why past
tense?”

“Cave in.”

“Where?”

The Emperor
threw an unreadable look over his shoulder. “Why do you need to
know?”

“Oh, I don’t
know, in case of an emergency?”

“You expect
something like that?”

“No, damn
it.”

Teighlar went
on walking. They had to move in single file, for the tunnels were
narrow. He held a torch aloft for light.

A while later
he said, “There is a river below. If one follows it downstream it
leads to an exit, but only water passes now.”

“I did not
know there was a river.”

“Now you do,”
Teighlar snapped. “How in hell do you think we manufacture on the
lower levels - carry water down?”

“Why are you
angry?”

Teighlar
stopped. The smoke from the torch obscured his face.

“This is
private, Torrullin. Even an Emperor bound to his city needs keep
certain facts close - perhaps especially a man who cannot ever
fucking leave here.”

Torrullin
stared through the haze. “Give me that thing; you are smoking us
out.”

Silence, and
then a bark of laughter. “Fine, Enchanter, give me one of your
globes.” He up-ended the torch, extinguishing it violently.

An acrid aroma
nearly choked them.

“Gods, what
did you kill it on?” Torrullin muttered and a moment later passed a
lit orb to Teighlar. He created one for himself also, and peered at
the ground. “Bloody hell, smells like piss.”

Teighlar gave
a genuine chuckle. “Rats. We are pretty deep.”

“Near the
industry caverns?”

“No, we
bypassed them a while back. Lower.” He gave a dry snort. “The river
is above us now.”

Torrullin
looked up. “Why does that make me feel uncomfortable?” The ceiling
of the narrow tunnel, to his relief, was bone dry.

“It gets even
spookier soon and the river will be the least of your
concerns.”

“The paintings
are down here? Lowen came alone?”

“Apparently.”

“The woman has
guts,” Torrullin muttered. “Why down here?”

“Safety.”

“From
what?”

“Gawpers,”
Teighlar murmured. “You will see soon enough.”

“Who were the
artists?”

“Ah, at last,
an intelligent question.”

“Now you are
pissing me off.”

Teighlar
rounded a bend and said, “Duck as you come around …”

A curse told
him his warning came too late. He laughed, enjoying Torrullin’s
discomfort.

“From Luvan
records we know there was a powerful brotherhood at one time, an
order of priests and magicians. We also know this brotherhood,
B
rotherhood, at one time usurped the hereditary royal line,
ruling in their stead and keeping royal blood ignorant of their
claim to rulership. A time came when the royals were no longer
duped and prepared for centuries to retake what was rightfully
theirs. In fact, that day came when Grinwallin was built and ready
and empty. The royals, unbeknownst to the Brotherhood, were the
power behind the building of Grinwallin and they brought the people
into the new city, ruling again from that auspicious day. That was
when real strife began - royal versus Brotherhood. The paintings
you are about to see were rendered by both royals and priests as
they pitted their wits against each other.”

“Magic?”

“Most
definitely.”

“Therefore the
safety issue. Why did the Senlu not destroy them when they took
over from the Luvans?”

“They are
indestructible. No fire, no water, no burial, nothing mars them.
They are as fresh in colour and impact as they were millions of
years ago.”

“Smacks of
foretelling.”

A sigh up
ahead. “Interesting you get that without seeing them.”

The tunnel
declined and commenced a wide curving. A chill seeped in.

“Teighlar,
there are Luvan records?”

“Idiot,” the
Emperor muttered. “There are Luvan records.”

Torrullin
stopped. “I need access.”

“They were
sealed away by an ancestor of mine and even I do not know where
that place is. What I told you is from what is described in our own
annals. I swear this, my friend; I have never seen the actual
records.”

Torrullin
nodded. “You looked for them?”

A ghost of a
smile. “In ninety million years of wandering these halls as little
more than a wraith I grew bored. Yes, I have searched, dug, opened
caverns, pulled away rock falls … and found zip.”

Torrullin
walked thoughtfully onward. That, then, was his next challenge.

Teighlar,
watching him, smiled. “If you find them, I shall eat my horse’s
dung.”

“You’re on,
Emperor.”

Chuckling
together they went on.

 

 

Sanctuary

 

Jimini,
returned to her usual guise, wandered the villa in dispirit.

How had the
Emperor seen through her? Gods, the man was good. He should be
Kaval.

She entered
the bedchamber where earlier she dressed in Lowen’s clothes and
opened the doors of the closet. There was not much, but what there
was, was pure Lowen.

In her mind’s
eye she saw the Xenian in the Dome, sometimes in breeches for a
mission, sometimes in flowing skirts and fringed tunics, and always
incredibly arresting. She was not a glowing beauty as some women
were; she was more about planes and shadows, emphasized by her dark
hair. And she was tall, lean, fearless, with the bluest eyes.

Lucky, Jimini
thought enviously. She closed the doors, feeling intrusive.

Returning
downstairs, she was at a loose end and hated it. Keep occupied was
her motto, for then the demons could not creep up on one. Idleness
allowed the devils supremacy.

Perhaps she
could return to the Dome, but Belun would hate interruption. Biting
back an oath, she headed for the kitchen. Maybe something to
eat.

She was
cheerfully frying onions when Chaim found her.

Jimini eyed
him. “He wouldn’t like you coming into his private space.”

“I also know
he is not here,” the spymaster muttered.

“Why
are
you here?”

“I need your
help.”

She lifted
brows. “Want to talk while I cook? Hungry?”

He looked over
the array she had spread on the counter. Chicken salad, fresh
bread, bacon, the onions sizzling away, and coffee brewed
somewhere.

“I am hungry,”
he grinned, and then, “Is it all right?”

BOOK: The Nemesis Blade
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ads

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