The Nemisin Star (60 page)

“Broken.”

She held
Taranis’ blade up significantly.

“I have no
need of a sword now.” She put the blade in one of the boxes and
left the study murmuring about jewellery.

“You all
right, my boy?”

Torrullin
laughed, “I will ever be a boy to you.”

“Yes,” Vannis
said, laughing also.

“Vannis, thank
…”

“Hush, I don’t
need the words.” They grinned at each other. “Go, Torrullin, do
what you feel is undone.”

“What about
you?”

“I have
nothing I value now, and my staff, no doubt, took what they
considered worthy heirlooms to the islands. I have sent the Oracles
to Kismet.”

“That is not
what I meant.”

“Farewells? I
did this before, son; I do not need to suffer it again. The only
farewells I need make now are to those here.”

“Raken will be
waiting on the other side.”

“Yes, and we
can now be together always. I am, finally, to be happy.”

“I am glad,
Vannis,” Torrullin said. “Be sure to send my love.”

“That I will,”
Vannis returned, his throat tight.

Torrullin left
the study … and walked into a steaming Cat on the balcony.

Graveyard
Site

He took her
outside the Keep, but noticed Quilla and Dalrish in conversation on
the battlements.

Dalrish looked
down and although the distance was too great to discern expression,
either way, it had to be curiosity on the Xenian’s face.

Cursing,
Torrullin took Cat’s arm and transported to the Graveyard. “Why are
you angry?” he demanded. “Is it not better that I go first, rather
than watch you grow old and die?”

She gasped and
slapped him hard. “You unfeeling brute! I don’t want you to
die!”

“Get used to
it, Cat; there will be no changing at this late stage.” He put a
hand to his smarting cheek.

She heaved
out, “Would it be that bad to watch me grow old?”

“It’s the
dying I have a problem with.” He shook his head, not understanding
her. “Cat, everyone else has accepted this, why not you?”

“I too have a
problem with dying, Torrullin. I’m no seer or sorcerer, but I know
I’m not to live long … I have only now! What is left to me when you
are gone?”

He gripped her
wrists and held her. “Life, Cat! An oxygen rich world! The sun!
Your family! A brother who will return to you and show you wonders
you have only ever dreamed of.”

She did not
struggle. “You have done that.”

He shook her.
“What have I shown you? Disappointment, anger, pain. There is more
out there for you!”

“I love you,
Torrullin.”

He threw her
from him. “I told you never to tell me that.”

“I wasn’t
going to!” she shouted, hurling the words. “But I thought you’d be
around. I - I could live with it, you know, while you were
somewhere close, but … Christ Almighty,
why?
” She kicked the
ground in a fury. “Don’t give me that crap about saving the
universe! I may not know you very well, chum, but my intuition
tells me you want this, that you want to run away!”

He burst out
laughing. “Yes! Yes, Cat! Thank all gods, someone sees through
me!”

“
Why
?”

“I have had
enough! Can you understand that?”

She presented
a serene gaze. “Yes, I can understand that.”

Ruefully
shaking his head, Torrullin sat with his back to an unused crypt.
Cat joined him, sitting close, and looped her leg over his; after a
moment he put his hand on her thigh, stroking it absently.

They sat on
for a time in silence.

“How will it
happen?”

“I don’t want
to talk about it,” he said.

“I get that,
but Vannis said the Throne will … that I don’t get.”

“The Throne
has much power and comes first and last in all matters Valleur, and
is therefore cloaked first or last in relation to the other sites.
On the day of reckoning I will cloak the Throne, but the Lifesource
will be operational, as will this Graveyard.”

“So?”

“The Throne is
also a weapon, Cat. It has never been deliberately deployed as I
intend, but the theory exists and is based on sound principles. It
will implode, drawing all matter within a radius of a hundred sals
to it; destroying everything utterly. Fortunately, Torrke’s
mountains will contain widespread destruction, but the valley will
be obliterated.”

“Why so
extreme?”

He could
explain it, but had neither the heart nor the energy. “Force,
coercion, mastery. I am ensuring Margus will not come forth with a
last minute sneak.”

“Why is Moss
here?”

“He has
knowledge to reverse the effects.”

“He was a
scientist, true, back before he so-called disappeared.”

“We should
have asked you about your cousin, I see.”

“Why do you
want to run, Torrullin? Tell me,” she murmured, running her fingers
over his hand. It had stilled on her thigh as he talked.

He managed a
smile. “I don’t have the time to take you through my strange life.
Six thousand years in five minutes? Cannot be done. You are of the
rare kind, Cat, you see
me,
and that means a great deal to
someone who is Vallorin, Enchanter, or Destroyer to others. You are
not attracted to my power …”

“Of course I
am.”

He glanced
sideways at her. “And if I was to lose it entirely?”

“I’d still
love you. The man is more important.”

His gaze
turned outward again. “Exactly. Others do not feel that way.”

“Saska,
surely?”

“Saska has
power also. Like to like. She would be forced on and away, with
regret naturally, but she wouldn’t stay.”

“That is
terrible!”

“Reality.”

“Basically,
you’ve had enough of your pedestal,” Cat said after a long and
thoughtful silence.

His body shook
as he laughed soundlessly. “In a nutshell.”

“You are rare,
too, then. Most folk love their pedestals.”

“Even for them
the glamour fades.”

“Was it always
like this for you?”

“I was happy
as a child until I realised what it meant to be Valleur. Perhaps if
I was a trueblood it would have been easier, I don’t know, cannot
know. I started running before my mother died and when she did die
I ran harder. Emotional races. After the Immortality Ritual it got
worse; I had to keep moving physically as well to mask agelessness.
I had to run from many who sought to use my power. I wasn’t always
successful and that made me really peeved at the universe in
general, and myself in particular.”

Torrullin
paused, watching his thumb make circles on her thigh. “This last
incarnation - Rayne to Torrullin - is the one I found roots.
Family, friends, a home, wife, sons, a people - it has been good. I
could slow; I could eventually stop the race. I know who I am
finally, and accept the good with the bad. Finally, peace as well?
No, no peace, for I became this, this … super being, and the
expectations that created has sometimes brought me close to the
brink. Even to Destroyer. Many times have I desired to lose who I
am in him. I would not have to think, to peel back the layers, I
could just act and bugger the consequence.”

His hand
splayed in stillness on her leg, his gaze faraway. “I don’t go now
because I’m afraid of sliding into that addiction. I need peace and
that translates as I need to be alone.”

“Is that
peace?”

“The real
question is whether I shall be alone. But, yes, for me it will be,
for a time.”

She leaned
against him, “I’ll be alone, after, here, in my heart.”

“I am
sorry.”

“I’ll manage.
Will you say farewell to me now, and after I’ll take Lowen and go
to the islands. Finish it now. Moss can follow when he is
ready.”

He drew her
closer and kissed her. “I should have stayed away from you,
Cat.”

“Maybe, but no
regrets here.”

She climbed
onto her knees, dragged him down until he lay flat, and then
clambered onto him.

Laughing, he
abetted her in the actions that placed her temporarily in control,
and then he did the same in removing their clothes.

Tristamil had
returned to the Keep when they got back, and was in a sombre
mood.

He took one
look at his father with Cat and understood without judgement.

“Get Lowen and
Dalrish,” Torrullin murmured to Cat. Nodding, she left and he
approached his son. “Tris?”

“I am alive …”
Tristamil did not see his father flinch. “… but it feels as if my
heart is torn from me. I left it battered back on the beach in
Luan. Don’t tell me it will be all right.”

“It is never
all right.”

“Do you love
Cat?” Tristamil pounced.

Torrullin
considered. “With time, perhaps, but it was doomed from the
beginning. I did love your mother, know that, and know that I
understand what you are going through.”

Tristamil
snorted. “What about Tymall?”

Torrullin’s
heart lurched. “What about him?”

“You cannot
leave him waiting to hear his sentence.”

“I have been
to see him.”

A loaded
interlude. “When?”

“Last night.”
Torrullin walked away.

“Tell me!”

Torrullin
shook his head and headed for the stairs. Lowen and Dalrish
descended with Cat behind them.

“I will ask
him myself!”

That caused a
father to halt in his tracks.

Dalrish
paused, sensing something, and held Lowen back. Cat stopped on the
step behind them.

Torrullin
turned. “Do you love me, Tris?”

“You know I
do.”

“Then, son, in
the name of that love I ask, nay, I command, that you do not go
near your brother. Do this one final thing for me. Please.”

Tristamil’s
face changed. Confusion to stubbornness. “I need to know. He is my
twin!”

“
I forbid
you to go to him!
” Torrullin hollered as if volume would aid
him. “And before I set a foot forward again, I shall have your oath
on it!”

“
Why?
”

“If I wanted
you to know I would not be asking this.” Torrullin stared at his
son, bending his will.
Do not cause me to force you in this
manner, Tris.

Tristamil
clutched at his head and shouted, “Fine! Have it your way!”

“You are to
stay away from him. Swear.”

“Fine, I
swear, but after you are
dead
…” the last word a sneer, “I
don’t have to keep this oath.”

“After I am
dead, Tristamil, it will no longer matter.” Torrullin turned from
his son to face the three on the stairs. He drew a calming breath
and then, rattled still, raised a hand. “Five minutes, if you
will.” He strode back to Tristamil, collared him to push his son
before him. “I love you, and because I love you I want to spare you
the result of last night’s visit, but you will know soon enough.”
He ceased pushing at the edge of the mosaic pool. “I admit the real
reason is that I spare myself. I hope you are able to forgive me
for what comes next, but I had no choice.”

“I do not
understand.”

“I know,”
Torrullin said, laying a gentle hand on his son’s cheek. “Forgive
me.”

He walked
resolutely away, leaving the young man to stare after him in
consternation. When Torrullin reached the stairs he passed a
shaking hand over his face, emerging with a smile, one that did not
quite find his eyes.

Behind,
Tristamil turned to make his way indoors.

“Cat says she
and Lowen are to leave for the islands,” Dalrish prompted after a
moment.

“Yes. Quilla
will transfer them.” Torrullin speared Cat with his gaze. Emotion
on top of emotion … and face the music. “I cannot do this right
now.”
Face the music, Torrullin.
He pushed past them to
sprint up the stairs.

“Torrullin,
you promised!” Cat shouted after him. “I can’t stay here!”

“Leave him,”
Dalrish said. “He will be back soon.”

“Torrullin
needs to calm down,” Lowen said. “Silly man. I’ll go speak to him.”
She started back up the stairs.

“Lowen,” her
father uttered, and she stopped. She opened her mouth to speak and
then turned and ran up. Dalrish glanced at Cat. “He won’t hurt her,
will he?”

“Hurt Lowen?
Not in a million years.” She descended the stairs and headed for
the kitchens.

Torrullin
halted before Tymall’s door, a door now always closed.

Lowen set off
after him.

He opened the
door to Tymall’s suite, closed it. A moment later she stood there
and was uncertain.

“Come in,
Lowen.”

She went
in.

The rooms were
untouched. Tymall’s clothes lay untidily on an armchair in one
corner and his closet gaped open. The bed was made and a silk
dressing gown lay in a shiny puddle in the centre. A few books and
writing utensils stood in readiness on a small desk before the
window, but the dark drapes were drawn. It was stuffy and gloomy,
the carpeting an indeterminate colour.

Torrullin
stood at the foot of the bed, looking at Lowen, who went directly
to the windows to open the drapes.

Light flooded
the space and a fresh breeze wafted in soon after as she pushed a
sash open, stirring papers weighed down with a heavy book. She
turned. The carpet was dark blue, the walls dark green. Everything
in the room was dark … surely that revealed the man? She had been
in Tristamil’s rooms and there all was light and airy with touches
of brilliant colour.

Putting aside
those thoughts, she crossed to the closet, shifted the doors
closed, and only then did she give attention to the father sitting
on the edge of the bed.

“You should’ve
come here before to face his ghost.”

His head
lifted. “He will be a true ghost soon.”